"Yes."
"We’ve got to get out in the open where they can see us."
They walked west and followed the narrow road through the pines. The heat was like an oven, and the mosquitoes swarmed them. He limped on his ankle, and Amy shifted to help him walk.
"You’re cut, Josh. Your lip looks horrible. And you smell terrible. What is it?"
"Methamphetamine."
She pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and held it over her nose. "What happened in that shack?"
"We’ll talk about that later." He paused. "Did Billy Ray keep you over at his ranch house?"
"Yes.”
"Did Trace do anything to you...?"
She shook her head. "No. Nothing like that."
"Thank God." He squeezed her again. "We’ll have plenty to tell." He looked up, the sound of the helicopters drowning out their words, the shadows of the craft sweeping over an open flat field in the valley between two ridges. They walked through the trees into the field and waved. Two Army National Guard helicopters landed forty yards away. Dust swirled around them, and Josh shut his eyes and held Amy’s face to his chest until the engines wound down.
When he looked up, he saw Sheriff Gottschalk handcuffed inside one of the helicopters. Four men in fatigues and bullet-proof vests jumped down and ran toward them. They had blackened their faces, and they carried assault rifles. They wore caps with letters: OBNDD. A heavily built man with a square face and gun-metal gray hair reached them first. His eyes looked white against the charcoal.
"You Josh Wade?"
"Yes sir. This is Amy."
"I’m Brewster Pace from the Oklahoma Bureau of Narcotics and Dangerous Drugs." He turned and signaled to the other team members, sweeping his arm toward the east. In a moment the others were moving into the trees toward the meth shack. "Talk fast. Don’t leave anything out."
Josh talked.
"So we got one hog-tied in the shack and one dead in a snake pit in the minefield?"
"Yes."
Pace spoke into a radio, passing this information along to his men. Then he looked at Josh. "Did Tom Sixkiller say where he was going?"
Josh swept his hand toward the northeast. "He said he was going out there. Where you would never find him."
Pace nodded. "We’ll see. Now let’s get you back to the park.”
* * *
Josh winced as a balding, pink-faced doctor dabbed at his cuts in a first aid tent at the park. Ed Wade watched, his arms folded across his chest, his eyes a mixture of anger and relief. Joe Buck sat on a wooden bench with Wake McKenna. Joe tore off a bite of Red Man, stuffed it in his cheek, spat a stream and glared at Josh. A nurse tended to Amy’s wrist abrasions.
Ed Wade said, "What am I going to do about you?"
"Beats me."
“I’m so happy to see you both alive, it’s hard to be mad."
Josh smiled at Amy. "We’re happy to see us alive too."
Ed sighed. "Are you going to go through the rest of your life like this, just tearing off into hell when you feel like it?"
"Most likely.”
Ed nodded. "Well, I guess you were right this time."
Amy said, "It was all my fault. If I hadn’t gone off in the woods with Wilma ...."
"It didn’t make any difference," Josh said. "Trace would have found a way."
"Hold still," the doctor said. He was sweating, the collar of his plaid shirt soaked. "The methamphetamine got into your cuts. Your lip is split and will require stitches. Your ankle is swelling; we’ll need x-rays. You’re dehydrated. I’m sending you on the helicopter to Senoca Hospital."
Josh looked at Joe Buck. "Did you get No. 88 fixed?"
Joe spat another stream of tobacco. "Me and Ed and the men cleared the debris from her. We was lucky there was no damage we couldn’t fix on the spot. She’ll do for the return trip. One of the men will fill in for you as fireman." He looked at the tourists, who were laughing as they boarded the passenger cars. "Half of those people think it was all part of the show."
Josh looked at Ed. "Dad, I know I’ve been some trouble for you.”
“Some trouble?"
"But I’ve worked hard this summer."
"I’ll give you that."
"I ask a favor now."
Ed sighed. "What? You want to go back on No. 88?"
Josh nodded.
"I don’t know...."
"Please, Dad. I’ll shower so Joe and Amy won’t get sick. These cuts have been treated. The ankle’s already numb.” He paused. “Please, Dad. Let me see this through.
Ed Wade scratched his balding head and looked at the doctor.
The doctor sighed, gave Josh a long look, then nodded at Ed. "I’ll be in the first car if you need me. But when we get back, he’s mine."
"Joe, can you put up with him for the return?"
Joe worked the tobacco around his mouth and spat twice. "Aw hell, he’ll do for one more run."
After Josh showered, he hobbled out of Wake’s cabin. His clothes still smelled like meth, and his ankle and cuts were killing him, but at least he was clean. He saw Liz Dannuck, the lizard boot lady, smiling at him.
He limped over to her. "Well, did you have a good time, Miss Dannuck?"
She smiled. "You were right, Josh. I did have the time of my life. How did you stage all that?"
"Stage it?"
"I mean, God, what a show! Explosives. SWAT teams. I thought the Bear Song Dance was good, but that was just the start of the show."
"Miss Dannuck?"
"Call me Liz."
"Well, Liz," he said, looking into her blue eyes, "after the dance, it wasn’t a show."
"It wasn’t?"
"No ma’am."
Her eyes widened. "You mean...."
“Right.”
She looked over at Ed Wade, giving him a long stare as he got the passengers aboard. Then she looked back at Josh. "Could you and your dad put on this dance thing again? Without the blood, bangs, and narcs?"
"Where?"
"Down in the Big Bend Country of Texas."
Josh scratched his head. "Why?"
"Why? Because I’m the Texas State Tourism Director, and I’ve got a checkbook, that’s why?"
Josh’s eyes widened. "Well, that’s for my dad to say. But knowing Dad, he’ll find a way to get it done."
* * *
As No. 88 approached the eastern edge of Senoca, the sun was sinking low. Far to the northeast, over the Kiamichi and Ouchita Mountains, a thunderhead was building up, its top tinged with sunlight, then fading to gray and black. Heat lightning flashed in the middle, and Josh counted the seconds until the thunder rumbled. Rain would drench those mountains tonight, he thought, and Tom Sixkiller would get wet. Josh reached into his pocket, where the witchcraft pouch would have been, and felt the necklace instead. As he took it out and put it on, he wondered about his friend, out there somewhere.Run like the deer. Fly like the hawk. Blend with the trees. Survive. Come back some day, and I’ll return this to you.
Josh saw the Dairy Queen and smiled. As usual, Sammy Jack Pricer and his buddies were leaning on the Corvette. Josh reached over and gave three blasts on No. 88’s whistle. Sammy Jack threw a salute in return. Josh pulled Amy over to him, forgetting his throbbing ankle, his split lip, his hunger, and the fires raging in his cuts, the memory of snakes slithering around his ankles. This was the moment he had worked for—the Choctaw Railroad had won.
The Witchery Way Page 15