Dancing With the Devil

by Maria Herren

  "It's Jesse Mitchell. You awake?"

  "Hey, Gator," Eric said, fumbling to switch the coffee pot on. "I've been waiting for your call. What time is it?"

  "Time for you to wake up, pretty boy. We've got to get busy," Jesse said.

  "What? What do you mean?" Eric decided that brewing a new pot was too complicated of a task for the moment and gulped at what was left. "I talked to your father," Jesse said.

  "I know. He told me. Met me at the airport. Said you were pissed that he got your number."

  "Are you awake yet?" Jesse asked.

  "Not yet. You always used to call me on my birthday. What's the date today?" Eric asked, running cold water in the sink and adding ice from the honor bar. "Hold on a second," he added, putting down the phone and submerging his head in the icy water. A minute later he slung his head back and reached for the phone. "I hear they've been keeping you pretty busy, Jesse."

  "Yeah. It's nice to be popular in this business. I don't do as much traveling as you do. I've never been real good with languages."

  There was a small silence while they congratulated each other on being alive and well.

  "So, my father told you what I'm working on?"

  "Yeah. He thinks you've bitten off a little more than you have to. He thought maybe you'd let me help you out."

  "Really? I've done a lot more than this on my own," Eric asserted.

  "Yeah, maybe," Jesse said.

  "What do you mean? It's just two hillbillies with some guns and knives. I can handle it," Eric repeated.

  "It sounds like they're two well connected hillbillies," Jesse said.

  "Not anymore," Eric told him. "From what I understand the connection has been broken."

  "Oh, I see. Do you really think their big boss will walk away from this one?"

  "Meaning what, exactly?" Eric asked him.

  "Meaning this has been a pretty big net for a small fry. Think about it. There's got to be a little more going on here," Jesse told him.

  "I don't think so. She was just with the wrong man in the wrong place at the right time," Eric said, warily, wondering how much Jesse knew.

  Jesse shook his head. "You're part right, Eric. Sit down and listen to your brother in arms." He paused for several seconds. "Are you sitting?"

  "None of these chairs looks comfortable," Eric told him.

  "Fine. However you want to take it, brother. I want to get behind you on this one but I've got to know exactly where we stand. Okay? Jesse asked.

  "Okay, Gator."

  "This woman who's the hostage ... is she the same woman we drank the bottles of whiskey for after you got that letter?"

  "Yes. Same woman," Eric admitted.

  "Right. Now just to get this in perspective, do you remember when we played cards that I won all of your money ... twice?" Jesse asked.

  "It was your lucky night. Generally I'm a much better player," Eric acknowledged.

  "Yeah, I know Eric. That's exactly my point. The only time I've ever seen you totally out of control was that night, and it was because of the way you feel about this woman. Can you see where I'm going with this?"

  "I see where you're going, Gator, but you don't have to," Eric said, pouring just the right amount of water into the coffee maker to get the maximum return. "I don't need a babysitter. It's an in and out job."

  Jesse leaned back and rubbed his forehead. "All right. Obviously I'm not presenting this very well. I'm not asking for a babysitting position. I think by now you know how I run my show. Tell me I'm right."

  "You're right," Eric told him.

  "What I'm trying to tell you is that I'm prepared to take some paid vacation time to soak up the sun with you, as long as we're walking in with the same expectations," Jesse finished.

  "Alright. I'm here. Didn't ask you to call. Glad to be having this conversation. I'm going into this without thinking about me, which I always try to do to a lesser degree."

  "I'm listening. Keep talking," Jesse told him.

  "I'm going in with everything I can and low expectations," Eric said. "Alone. I didn't ask for anyone because I can handle this."

  "I'm going to be as blunt as I can," Jesse interrupted. "I haven't worried about you for more than a minute on any of the assignments that I've known you've handled for the last few years. I know why and where you've traveled because I work hard to keep up," Jesse paused to light a cigarette and start the CD player.

  "Always Elvis?" Eric asked.

  "For now. I can change," Jesse told him. "Still smoking?"

  "Yeah. I've switched to lights."

  "They'll still kill you," Eric offered.

  "Now you see what I'm talking about! I didn't call you blind. I've really been thinking about this," Jesse said.

  "It shows," Eric acknowledged.

  "So just listen, okay? I'm looking at the terrain I'd have to deal with. I've always worked better than you in the landscape. This doesn't require any special language skills since it's in our backyard. Your father told me you've been globe-trotting, so I know that you're tired. We agree it's a one man in and out - you can be the president. Let me do this for you, brother," Jesse pleaded.

  There was a long silence which Jesse found encouraging. "I just don't want you dying on the cross of a simple cause, Eric," Jesse added. "You've got too much wrapped up in this to be smart when it counts."

  Eric put down his empty coffee cup and paced the length of the room. "You don't love her, Gator."

  "Nope. Never had the pleasure."

  Eric sighed. "You've worn me down. You know I won't let you go alone. I'll call you in half an hour on your secret number to let you know where and when to meet me."

  "Don't make fun of the bat phone!" Jesse protested in mock outrage. Then he began to sing, "Happy birthday to you ..." and hung up the phone.

  Eric dialed the front desk. "What's the date today?" he asked.

  She told him and he smiled. "Send me a filet, rare, a few shrimp, Tabasco, a glass of your finest red wine, and what the hell. Put a birthday candle in the steak."

  Twenty-One

  They moved quietly up opposite sides of the mountain. Only hours earlier they'd been poring over maps of the area.

  "They need to be relatively close to water and the nights are near freezing so they're probably close to the stone for warmth. Looks like we've got a lot of choices," Jesse said.

  "I think you're right about that. Water's only coming from two sources. They straddle each other out here in the open before they split for separate sides," Eric said, pointing to the map. ''Not enough protection near there for them to spend the nights. My guess is somewhere right before or right after they split."

  Jesse leaned in and stared intently at the web of lines. "Yeah. That makes a lot of sense to me. Too bad they don't run a little closer together after the cut," he leaned back and smiled at Eric. "Honey, it's your choice. Which side do you prefer to sleep on?"

  They left the jeep in the bushes at the bottom of the mountain. Looking up the first craggy cliff they quickly checked their gear.

  "Got it all together, Gator?" Eric asked.

  "Yeah, I even got extra!" Jesse smiled.

  "Unless I hear from you earlier, Jesse, I'll meet you where they cross," Eric said, smiling back and hugging him, hard. "Thanks for coming with me, brother."

  "I wouldn't have it any other way. I'll see you at the cross."

  "Right. See you then," Eric told him.

  Eric was climbing fast and hard. The night had been clear at the base of the mountain but now he was in the darkness of the undergrowth and he focused on the smells and sounds of his new world. He broke a limb with his thigh with a sound that reverberated off the tree and caused an owl to screech in alarm, searching for the intruder with her penetrating gaze. Eric slowly pulled his hood further over his head and knelt quietly in the pine needles. He waited half an hour until the bird was calmed down and then longer to make sure no one had been paying attention. It was a good hour before he moved again.
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  He was wading briskly through the freezing water, working hard to keep his circulation alive when he caught the brief smell of smoke. He froze and waited. There was no light and the smell of smoke was faint. Too fresh to be coming from an old campfire, he thought, working more slowly through the water.

  He pulled himself out of the current and edged into the woods with his knife in his teeth, following the elusive trail of smoke. He pulled himself up a tree and watched Jesse enjoy a strong hit before he flipped his cigarette into the rushing water.

  He whistled softly, but Jesse hit the earth anyway, spinning toward the sound with his gun aimed toward the tree.

  They faced each other in the darkness.

  "Goddammit, Eric, you're pretty quiet for a big guy," Jesse said, standing up and walking toward the tree. "Light on your feet for so much mass, you know what I mean?''

  "It's all muscle," Eric laughed.

  They stood together beside the rushing water. "I thought I was making good time, Gator," Eric said. "You're really fast. Did you go all the way up to the break and circle back?"

  "Yeah. There's nothing on my side. I just wanted to make sure you've got no trouble."

  ''Nothing but the second-hand smoke I'm breathing from you," Eric said. "You wouldn't have noticed it at all if you hadn't been downwind."

  Eric walked forward on the small stones and stared up at the cliff.

  "Gator, you say there's nothing going on from here to the split. Let's get back that far, together. We're going in on my time, so slow yourself down and work on my count." He looked sharply at his friend. "Remember, Jesse, I'm the president on this one."

  "Yeah, I remember," Jesse agreed, plodding one foot in front of the other. "Thanks for not shooting me from the tree."

  "You're welcome. Thanks for coming back to check on me," Eric said, looking over his shoulder, but Jesse was already gone. "Don't screw this up for me, Gator!" he pleaded to the empty air.

  ⇼

  Jesse lay silently in the underbrush and listened to the two men talk. He'd found their lean-to several minutes earlier and was going to turn back as per his agreement with Eric, but the animosity that he felt slowly propelled him forward.

  They had a small campfire burning and the smaller brother sat close, curled in a tight ball with his head on his knees. The tall one kicked some of the twigs that had fallen away from the fire back in and showered sparks onto his brother's bare forearms causing him to jerk backward.

  Jesse could see the tears that streaked down his face before he lowered his head, again. The tall one stood over him and drug him back by his thin hair, shaking his head with disgust. "Aww, shit, Jack! Don't start that again!" he growled.

  The wind shifted and Jesse's nostrils quivered at the metallic assault from the smell of fresh blood that came from the two men.

  "Leave me alone!" Jack whined. "Don't touch me!"

  "Whatever," Jerry said, letting his hand drop. "It's your turn to get some water, but I don't want to have to wait forever and then have to drink your fucking tears. She's not going to wake up for awhile, and if she does I don't want you talking to her. Do you understand me?"

  Jack nodded and the tall man unstrapped a canteen from around his neck. "Be good, little brother," he said, laughing crazily as he passed by Jesse.

  The young brother didn't bother to lift his head.

  From his vantage point on the ground Jesse squinted through the flickering fire to watch a quick shadow of a figure emerge from the other side of the flames. Eric's knife was drawn, held loosely, expertly in his hand. He shifted it quickly between his fingers catching a blue glow while he stalked forward.

  Jesse tensed against the hard dirt when Eric dropped silently into a crouch and glared into the shadows, knowing better than to make one wrong move. Eric had felt his presence but he couldn't make out Jesse's form, plastered so tightly into the ground. Slowly, Jesse eased up two fingers in the universal sign of peace, watching intently the way that Eric bounced the knife, ready to roll instantly in either direction to sustain the least amount of damage. He knew the instant that Eric saw his signal. Eric's forearms tightened while he briefly lowered the knife and gave a nod in Jesse's direction.

  Jesse allowed his body a shudder of relief while he and Eric stared through the flames at each other listening to Jack sobbing against his knees.

  He eased his own knife so that Eric could see it and pointed to the crying man, then gestured quickly toward the lean-to with his head, knowing how badly Eric needed to get inside.

  Eric agreed instantly. He lifted a closed fist, then held up three fingers in quick succession.

  "Yhhhhhh," Jesse hissed, in and out.

  On three they exploded together, Eric darting for the cover of the door and Jesse sprinting forward to grab Jack around the neck, catching him in mid sob, dragging him backward.

  "Gotchyyyy!" he whispered, holding the blade tight against yielding flesh.

  Jack was stunned. His bloodshot eyes were hard to focus; his arms were flailing uselessly against the ground.

  "Not ... a ... sound," Jesse spoke softly in his ear. "You're already dead."

  Jack went limp, his eyes beginning to roll upward.

  "No!" Jesse commanded, jerking him back to consciousness. Jack tried hard to focus and make the shaking stop. He attempted a loose-lipped smile while he watched a grim shadow dance across the face of his attacker.

  The questions came fast and ran together in a sing-song voice. All one question. "Who ya' got'n there, whatcha' been doin', who's inside?"

  "Ju ... just her," Jack stammered, mesmerized by the intensity of the questioner. "We ... we've .. ju .. just been here f...for a vuh ... vacation!"

  He was insanely proud of completing his sentence and he smiled again into the merciless dark eyes.

  "Who gave ya' those scratches on your face?'' Jesse asked, toying with his prey. Jack struggled to work his head out of the vice of the crotch that held him.

  Useless. He started to cry again. "I was ... puh ... pickin berries."

  Jesse's eyes glistened, reaching for Jack's hand and spreading it against his thigh.

  "Who ... who are ya'?" Jack stammered, drooling slightly. "Puh ... police?" he asked, hopefully.

  Jesse had been in this position too many times before. He was on autopilot with a small part of him hoping the man beneath him would be able to say something to change his mind, knowing that it wouldn't happen.

  "I'm the man who wants to know who gave you those scratches, you weak little bastard!" Jesse said in his ear.

  Jack swallowed, feeling the hardness of the knife against his fingers, staring upward.

  "Did ya' rape her, Jack?" Jesse questioned softly, caressing his neck with the knife.

  Jack finally nodded against the sharp edge and giggled. "Yuh ... yeah. Luh ... lots of times," he slid his eyes sideways. "I'm purty shure she luh ... likes me better than muh ... my brother."

  Jesse jerked his head back and slit his throat.

  He waited until the steady stream turned into frothy pink bubbles then lifted his limp arm and wiped his bloody knife against the sleeve, swiveling on his ankles to check his back and both sides of the fire.

  We're going to have to pick up the pace and get her out of here, he thought. He stalked forward and entered the darkness of the lean-to.

  ⇼

  At first he could only smell. The smells seemed to linger in layers. There was the smell of sex, there was fear. He could feel the horrible anger and pain that hung in the air. "Eric?" he whispered, peering into the dimness.

  He knew what he was looking for and his trained eyes adjusted quickly to the absence of light. He wanted to see Eric busy in the process of getting Charly movable.

  "Ohh ... ohh Jesus," he muttered, squeezing his eyes tightly against the pathetic image of Eric holding Charly in his arms, rocking gently back and forth, softly stroking her hair. "Is ... is she still alive?" he asked, hesitantly.

  Eric nodded. "They hurt her pretty bad
, Gator," he said, tears falling down his cheeks. "I don't want to get up and drop her or something," he said, uncertainly.

  This is what I was talking about, Jesse thought to himself. He's useless. Out loud he said, "I understand, brother. We've got to get moving, okay? So why don't you give her to me," he gently suggested.

  "No!" Eric said, fiercely. He was in some state of shock.

  "Yeah, okay, it's all okay," Jesse murmured, reaching around Eric to check for a pulse on Charly. It took several seconds to feel a shaky beat. He dropped to the ground and sat close, pulling the two of him toward him in an awkward embrace.

  "She's still alive," he told Eric.

  "I know, Gator," Eric responded.

  "Good. That's real good, because it's going to take both of us knowing exactly what's going on to keep her alive and get her back down the mountain to someone who can take care of what's wrong. Someone who can fix her back up."

  "Like a doctor," Eric suggested.

  "Exactly like a doctor," Jesse agreed.

  Jesse stopped Eric from making another mechanical caress. "Do you hear me? Do you understand that we have to leave right now?"

  Eric leaned back in Jesse's arms. "I hear you. I understand. I can't believe that anyone could hurt her like this. Tell me that you made the bastard suffer," he pleaded.

  "Not enough. I didn't know what they'd done," he said, listening to the air wheeze in and out of the punctures they'd made in Charly's neck.

  He took a deep breath and swallowed hard. "We have got to move quick if you want to keep her alive. Her pulse is unsteady. It's a big mountain and this is a bad situation." He stopped and searched his partner's eyes. "We can move, now, or you can rock her to death."

  They stared at each other.

  "It's your call," Jesse said softly. "You're the president. If you want to pull a suicide tell me now."

  Eric put his fingers against her neck wounds. "Do you really think she can make it, Gator?"

  "I can't tell you that, Eric," Jesse said, taking in the blood on the walls, the floor, some spatters that had made their way to the ceiling. "I can tell you that she's put up a hell of a fight already."