Death Canyon

by David Riley Bertsch

  He walked the perimeter of the house first, gun at the ready. No sign of the intruder. When he got back to the side door near the garage, his eyes were well adjusted to the lack of light. At the top of the slope there was a quick flash of movement.

  He gripped the pistol firmly, ready to fire. Another movement.

  Come out, you sonofabitch!

  Jan’s breath was hastening. He hadn’t done this in a while. He reset his grip and put his finger on the trigger.

  In a blur of speed, a coyote spooked from the edge of the driveway and ran down the slope behind the house. Jan took a slow, deep breath, lowered his weapon, and walked toward the door.

  Fucking coyotes! He longed to be back in civilization.

  As he was opening the door, something unexpected happened. The frightened coyote came flying back up the hill and ran down the driveway in the opposite direction. It was out of sight in a matter of seconds.

  Jan connected the dots quickly: Someone or something had spooked it back up the hill.

  * * *

  “What was that?” The look of fear was apparent on Noelle’s face despite the darkness. All of a sudden, her breaths were coming quickly as she turned to face the source of the noise.

  “Just a coyote. I’m gonna walk over to that one to see if it’s the same as this.” He pointed toward a tree a hundred feet to his left. “You go check out the next closest tree on the other side. Let’s meet back here in a few minutes. Make it quick. Be careful.”

  Noelle nodded and started off toward the next tree. Something didn’t feel right to her. They shouldn’t be separated in this darkness. If something happened it was always better to be together.

  What if that animal is the owner’s guard dog and alerted them to our presence?

  She tried to remind herself to stay cool. Panicking wouldn’t help her any.

  She looked up to the top of the hill again. Above it, clouds were moving in and blocking the limited light from the sky. She looked back for Jake but he was already out of sight. Shit! She glanced up again at the darkening sky, afraid that she might not even find it back to the first tree. Stay calm.

  Noelle hurried to the second tree. The whirring noise was the same as the first. Although she already knew what she would find, she put her hands on the trunk of the tree. It was warm and vibrating. Another fake.

  What was that? She spun around quickly, but nothing was behind her. She focused her attention back on the tree. She must be hearing things.

  She had seen something similar only once: a cell phone tower in the national park that was built to look like a tree so it wouldn’t be an eyesore to visitors. These couldn’t be cell towers. They were too close together.

  What in the world? Some kind of observatory?

  A sense of dread washed over her. Whatever it was, she had to get Jake and get out of there as soon as possible. Noelle turned and started walking quickly in the direction of their meeting point.

  Before she made it back, there was a flash of light near the base of the hill to her right. In the second or so that the flashlight was illuminated, she saw the profile of a man approaching another man from behind. Noelle held her hand over her mouth to stop the scream that welled inside her. She heard the dull noise of a short scuffle and then the piercing bang of a gunshot.

  Noelle fell to the earth with a thud to stay out of view, should the man with the light look around for other intruders. Sure enough, a beam wandered in a 360-degree search pattern over the flats. It passed over her without pause.

  Thank God!

  The beam settled on the hill up toward the direction of the house. Noelle did her best army crawl to see what was going on.

  Her heart was beating out of her chest. Behind a small, scrubby sage bush, she stopped and peered through the thin branches. A man was holding a small flashlight with his teeth and dragging another man’s body by his feet. She couldn’t tell which one was Jake.

  She moved a bit closer and blinked a few times to help her blurry vision in the dry, night air. She looked up at the man, who had stopped to adjust his grip on the body. It wasn’t Jake in front. This man was much larger.

  Jake’s dead.

  Noelle was too panicked to process the thought at that moment. Her mind frantically searched for a way to get to her vehicle and out on the open road. She had to go get help.

  * * *

  Jan took Jake through the side door and into the garage. He opened the garage’s wood-paneled door and then walked out to drag him inside. The automatic light from the door opener illuminated the body ever so slightly.

  “Jake fucking Trent.” He pulled the body into the garage, took one final look around outside, and closed the door.

  * * *

  Back in the darkness, Noelle crept toward her truck. She’d left her phone on the passenger seat, but the chances of finding reception in these hills were slim. If she could get reception, she would call the cops first. If not, she’d try to start the truck and get as far across the flat and away from the house as she could. It would draw attention, but it was better than trying to sneak back down the driveway. She couldn’t know for sure if the man was waiting outside for her.

  It wasn’t long before her plans changed. The phone wasn’t on the passenger seat where she’d left it. She searched the floor of the vehicle, under the seats, and on the ground alongside the doors.

  Noelle walked around the front of the car to the driver’s side. She sat down and reached for the ignition. The keys were gone. She looked around the cabin. Nothing. The man must have found the truck and taken the keys and her phone. Worse yet, if he found both her phone and Jake’s, he would know that there was another person somewhere out on the dark sage flat. He would come for her next.

  A strong quake rattled the truck. The panic inside Noelle was growing exponentially. She searched for Jake’s phone or anything that might come in handy, stopping to look outside in case the man was approaching the car. After a few minutes, she stopped and sat back in the driver’s seat.

  Not knowing what to do next, she banged both fists on the steering wheel. Jake is gone and I have no way to get help. Her only option was to climb the hill to the house and try to get to a phone or a vehicle without being detected.

  You can do this, Noelle. She tried to summon courage in herself. Her mind played pictures of her childhood, her mother, Jake Trent.

  Let’s go.

  Before she started up the hill, she grabbed the tire iron from the spare tire kit in case she had to defend herself. Then she opened the glove box for the small pocketknife she kept there. Beside it was Jake’s phone.

  Thank God.

  Noelle grabbed the device, turned off the interior lights, and closed the door.

  * * *

  Makter was speeding along the curvy back road toward the house. In the backseat were a twelve-gauge shotgun and a nine-millimeter pistol, both under an old sleeping bag. He had to get it done tonight: convince Jan to be a part of it and head back down to Jackson to kill Trent. He had no idea of the surprise that awaited him in the house’s garage.

  * * *

  Jan was still in the garage dealing with his unexpected visitor. He froze when he heard the knock.

  Makter? Or does Trent have backup coming?

  More knocking. Rather than going to the side door, Jan pulled the Glock from his waistband and walked quietly to the front door. He opened it without a sound and crept around the corner of the house to ambush his visitor. When the end of the driveway came into view he could see a vehicle, though it was impossible to identify in the night. A figure stood at the side door, also veiled in darkness.

  “Don’t fucking move! Don’t turn around; don’t do anything!” Jan was a dozen yards from the intruder. His Glock was aimed right between the man’s shoulder blades.

  “It’s just me! It’s Mak!” He glanced over his shoulder. “Put the fucking gun down, Jan! Jesus!”

  Jan walked over to Makter and grabbed him by the shoulder. He violently spun
him around so his back was against the door and he could see his face “What the fuck, Mak? You’re lucky I didn’t blow your head off. What the hell are you doing up here?”

  “I came to talk, all right? I came to talk!” His hands were up in the air in the surrender position.

  “Get inside.” Jan pushed him through the door and into the house. “I’ve got something to show you.”

  * * *

  When Makter saw what the garage contained, he couldn’t believe it. He let out a high-pitched, jackal-like howl.

  Jake Trent was bound to an oak kitchen chair. Duct tape held his ankles to the legs of the chair, and his hands were tied behind him. He was conscious, but there was duct tape over his mouth and blood oozing down over his right eye and onto his cheek.

  “Is he hit?” Makter checked Jake’s physical condition.

  “Just a bump on the head.”

  Makter giggled, anxious at the thought of torturing Jake Trent.

  “Don’t fucking laugh!” Makter immediately fell silent as his old friend demanded. “How do you think he got up here?”

  “How should I know?” Mak’s voice revealed anger. He was sick of playing second fiddle, and the sight of Trent bleeding made him see red. “I did my job! I told you we needed to kill him!”

  “You didn’t do your job, obviously. If you had, Trent wouldn’t have been snooping around the house tonight!”

  “What was he doing up here?” Makter asked, repeating Jan’s question, looking closely at the gash on Jake’s head. Jake stared straight ahead.

  “I don’t know, you idiot! You must have led him here!” Makter fell silent.

  Jan spoke again. “It doesn’t matter anymore. You fucked up! You pay the price! I’m getting in my car and I’m driving to the airport. Then I’m flying somewhere far away before this place blows. You do what you want to Trent, but you stay in this damn house until that phone rings and someone tells you otherwise. Or you don’t get paid.”

  “What if he told someone about this place?” Makter gestured toward Jake. “Then what? What if the cops come?”

  “Then you deal with them. I’ll see you around, Mak. Thanks for the shitty work.” With that, Jan walked out of the garage, through the short hallway, and out into the night air.

  “Shit!” Makter looked at Jake for a second, and then ran after Jan.

  A deep, trembling earthquake shook the house. The tremor precariously skittered Jake’s chair a foot to the right.

  Outside, Makter was screaming. “What happened to you, Jan? I used to look up to you! Now you’re so weak, it’s disgusting! You’re no better than me!” Makter stood near the garage door and shouted at Jan, who was approaching the car.

  “Bullshit, Mak. I’m the same as always. Maybe I was no better than you, but you’ve lost your fucking mind! I always knew you were a little batshit, but this is a whole ’nother level! I asked you to do one simple thing for me, and you created this fantasy, this sick fucking world where you play with people like they’re your pawns. You slaughtered innocent people down there for the sport of it—only a lunatic would think what you did was necessary! You need help, Mak. See a fucking therapist, I’m gone.”

  “Take another step and I’ll kill you.” Makter had his own pistol drawn.

  There was silence for a moment, and then Makter spoke again.

  “The days of you telling me what to do are over.”

  * * *

  Jake looked around at his surroundings. Sweat beaded on his brow. His head was pounding from the blow. He looked to his right—two more feet and he would be close enough to the garage door track that he might be able to use its metal edge to fray the rope that was binding his hands. Keep arguing; give me a few more minutes. The only other thought on Jake’s mind was finding Noelle and making sure she was safe.

  Now it was Jan shouting outside. “Listen, you maniac, I’m leaving now. You play out whatever sick fantasy you want with Trent. By the time you’re done, this whole mess will be over. You’ll get paid. I’ll get paid. We’ll both be richer men.”

  Jan’s message sounded surprisingly like a plea.

  “You’re not going anywhere.” The resolve in Makter’s voice was disconcerting. “You’re gonna die with Trent, you prick. I’ve spent my whole fucking life in your shadow. But you were always weak. You think you can control everything, understand everything, by being rational?”

  Makter laughed loudly again.

  “You wanna know where the control is? It’s right here in my hand, Jan. If you want control, you take it, you don’t ask for it. You don’t reason your way into it.”

  The earth was belting out a coincidental harmony to Makter’s rage. Jake was six inches away from the track now—the quakes sliding him closer and closer. He used his core to hop the chair the rest of the way. The bouncing made his agonizing headache much worse. When he got there, he spun around so the vertical rail was perpendicular to the rope binding his hands. He made small sawing motions to wear away at the rope. Because the edge was rather smooth, it was tedious work. He took breaks every thirty seconds or so to catch his breath.

  “Who’s in control now, Jan?” Makter cocked the gun and pushed it hard into Jan’s cheek.

  “Listen, Mak, if we both get in the car right now and get out of here, we’ll be safe. This thing is gonna blow.”

  “You can’t talk your way out this time, Jan. Get inside.”

  Instead of following Makter’s orders, Jan lunged for the gun. They wrestled to the ground.

  Jake heard two gunshots, then the sound of a car spewing gravel against the garage door.

  Jake worked harder yet to free himself, but before he could do so the side door opened. Jake froze. It was Makter. He spoke in an uneven tone. Adrenaline. Rage. “Trying to escape, huh?” He pulled the chair to the center of the garage. “Not gonna happen, asshole. It’s just you and me now. Jan will bleed out before the end of the driveway.”

  Jake remained quiet, his mouth still taped shut. Makter was breathing hard. There was blood on his shirt. He had both guns now, the nine millimeter from his own backseat and Jan’s Glock. After checking the magazine of the Glock, he put it on another chair that was sitting nearby and continued to hold the nine millimeter in his right hand.

  He ripped the tape from Jake’s mouth forcefully. “I’d like to hear you scream before you die.” There was a crooked smile on his face.

  Jake had once feared Jan much more than Makter, if only because of the scope of Jan’s criminal network. Now, Makter’s insanity was much more horrifying.

  Jake’s training was guiding him. Don’t bother talking to him; you’ll only make it worse. Stay quiet and wait for your opportunity to disarm him.

  He felt around with his fingers. There were only a few strands of rope intact. Be patient.

  * * *

  Pressed against the hillside, Noelle heard a car leave, so she crept up and surveyed the scene from behind some brush. There was one car remaining, but nobody was outside. She crept in closer and looked in through the window. The house still seemed empty.

  Noelle ran in a hunched position to the far side of the sedan. Once there, she dropped down to the ground again, where the car concealed her from the view of anyone who might be left in the house.

  She tried the handle on the passenger side but it was locked. With no idea whatsoever about the intricacies of a car’s ignition system, she couldn’t possibly hot-wire it. Even if she could, breaking the window would probably trigger an alarm.

  She started to make her way back over the hill. She needed to rethink her escape. Suddenly, she stopped. A scuffle from inside the garage. An unfamiliar voice was shouting. She moved closer to the garage door so she could hear.

  The moment Noelle’s ear touched the door, she heard something terrifying: “Not gonna talk, huh? That’s fine. Let’s go outside. We don’t want to leave too much evidence, but of course you know that. Then some worm like you might track me down.”

  Jake? Her heart pounded wildly.


  The garage door began to climb. Noelle ran, but it was too late. The killer saw her feet dart from the door and around to the other side of the car parked outside. He cocked the nine millimeter and cautiously moved out of the garage.

  “Come out, come out, whoever you are!” Noelle held her breath. Makter’s tone changed from playful to matter-of-fact. “Okay, well, if you don’t come out with your hands up, I’ll put a bullet in the gas tank! How does that sound? Ever seen anyone burn to death?” Makter again waited for a response. Noelle remained quiet, holding her hands over her mouth to stifle her own heavy breathing.

  The madman changed his tone again. He was shouting now. “Okay, well, how about this? I’m guessing you know a guy named Jake Trent. If you don’t show yourself, I’ll put a fucking bullet in his head!”

  Noelle paused. “Okay! Okay!” she shouted back. “I’m coming out!”

  Makter couldn’t believe he had heard a woman’s voice.

  “What a pleasant surprise!” he hissed as she walked out from behind the car.

  35

  THE HOT ROCK TRACT

  Noelle walked around the front of the car with her hands up, just like the man demanded. Makter followed her in and closed the garage door behind them.

  She tried her best to keep her hands from shaking, but the pistol aimed squarely at her chest didn’t help any. Squinting to recognize the man bound to the chair, she could barely tell it was Jake. He was bruised and swollen. Blood glistened on his face in the dim light.

  “A sexy one, too! Damn, I sure wasn’t expecting that.” Makter had an evil grin on his face. “Get over here, now!” He led her into the garage and sat her down on the cement floor ten yards from Jake. Rifling through a bin near the door, he found the roll of duct tape. “Perfect.” He tapped her playfully on the forehead with the roll.

  Makter started with her ankles, wrapping them tightly and thoroughly. While he did so, she could sense the evil in the man. It wasn’t just the anger and fear of a criminal interrupted; it was the noxious aura of a man with horrifying intentions. Whether they were aimed at her or Jake or both, she couldn’t tell.