Dead Fall Back

by Tony Masero

  It took him an hour to reach the crest of the hill, from there he looked back down at Dead Fall Back.

  The road was invisible from up here, lying in a riverbed of pale mist. He wiped his brow with a shaking, briar scratched hand and looked at the sun again for direction. Panting, he sat for a moment on a boulder. Drawing strength back into his limbs. He had come to know the forest well over the years but until now had only chosen easy routes to cross it. Today was calling on reserves of energy he no longer had. Rising with a groan, Leban set off again down the sloping side towards the highway.

  The bear was half asleep.

  Already it was slipping into its winter hibernation mode when it heard and smelled the man coming. The creature had found a cavern amongst the rocks and was preparing itself for the deep rest through the winter months that nature called for. The man smell disturbed it, irritation needling the sleepy beast into restless aggression. It rose with a soft growl from its den and moved out following the scent wafting on the brisk morning air.

  Unknowing, Leban hurried on, uncaring now about how much noise he made as he guessed he was far away from the dangerous men around the town. He swung down the slope, grasping at branches and stepping over the rough rocky ground as best he could. It would not do to twist an ankle or bust a leg up here; no one would find him in the dense forest. The small clearing was a godsend and when he reached it, Leban sunk down with relief onto the level patch of scrub grass. He untied his coat and bundling it into a pillow he lay his head down with the promise it would only be for a moment of rest. Leban rubbed his aching legs and was about to loosen the ties on his boots when he heard the coughing growl.

  The creature appeared at the far side of the clearing behind him. It looked small to Leban at first, a bumbling ball of fur partially hidden in the shadows. He sat up slowly, hand reaching for the bundled coat and readying himself to flee. The bear watched with dim black eyes, its head swinging from side-to-side, wet muzzle scenting the air. Then it raised itself up to its full height on its hind legs and roared. Leban´s eyes widened as he felt the impact of the terrifying sound and saw the beast standing tall above him. The slobbering mouth peeled back to expose sharp yellow teeth and the raised paws threw out long curving black claws.

  “Oh my Lord!” sighed Leban in awe.

  The bear dropped to all fours, swinging its head from side to side. Readying itself for a charge. Leban fumbled at his coat pocket, his fingers desperately searching for his hunting catapult. He tugged at its silvered frame and the prongs caught at the ragged edges of his pocket. Frantically he ripped the thing free, tearing the pocket open and spilling the ballbearing shot out onto the grass at his feet. With both eyes on the bear his fingers scrabbled on the ground searching for a metal ball. Finding one he slotted it into the holder and pulled back the heavy rubber band to its full extent.

  He was a good shot with the weapon, having hunted in the woods for years using it, and he did not miss. The curved arms of the catapult slung the ball hard and fast and it zipped across the clearing in a flash of reflected light to strike the bear full in the face. The creature roared and swiped at its jaw as if stung by a bee. Leban was already loading another ball. He fired again, the shot slapping the creature beside the eye. It spun its head aside, roaring and thrashing at the invisible enemy. Leban loosed again and again. Loading and firing as fast as he could discover the shot on the ground. The bear mumbled now, growling and turning away slowly from the rain of metal. It slunk back into the clearing edge, bustling quickly into the surrounding cover.

  Leban stood panting, his eyes wild with fear and anger.

  “There yuh go!” he shouted after the creature. “Bet ya never seen a David an´ Goliath act like that, huh? Yuh big bugger.”

  The bear answered with a mournful growl and Leban thought the better of it. Gathering his fallen coat ran out of the far side of the clearing and down onto the hillside below.

  He crashed unheeding through the undergrowth, fleeing with all the nervous energy he could muster through thorn and whipping branches. It was only when he reached a rocky streambed that he stopped, flopping down beside the trickle of water and burying his head in the cooling stream. He rose sobbing for breath, his face streaming with water. Leban rolled over and looked at the clearing sky above and wished he were safe back home and not out here playing at being a noble citizen. He bathed his scratched arms and face, letting the cold water run over his body and revive him. His shirt was torn to ribbons and one leg of his trousers flapped loose about his leg.

  “Man,” he thought. “I do look a sorry mess. They´s never gonna believe a word I say down at Minerstown p´lice lookin´ like this”

  Wearily, he took his bearings and stood up reluctantly on tired legs, ready to continue his journey.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  It took Summersby and Legrand another half an hour to get the crate loaded into the trunk of Jason´s vehicle and back down to the station.

  Stoeffel was busy ushering people out of the office with dire warnings to stay inside and off the streets. The town mayor and the bank manager were proving to be the most vociferous in their concern and it took all of Stoeffel´s powers of diplomacy to calm them down. He was surprised to hear that they had heard nothing from Bubba Rose and it only deepened his concerns about the man´s involvement.

  The three of them hauled the wooden box into the station and dumped it on the floor with relief. Legrand went off to fetch the toolbox from the storeroom while Summersby poured the last of the coffee

  Stoeffel had made earlier.

  “Jeez, Chief. Why´d you have us bring that thing down here? It could have stayed where it was and we´d have opened it up right there.”

  Stoeffel ran an eye over the crate. “If the stuff in there is what I think is in there, we need it here. The whole business could hinge on what these guys are up to in this town. How about if this is their hoard of coke? Without it to shift we have some sort of edge over them.”

  Legrand returned with the toolbox, he took out a pair of tin snips and promptly started to cut through the wire bands. When he was through, Summersby helped with a crowbar and they began to lever up the wooden top. It fell free with a screech of bent nails and dropped back onto the station floor. Inside, almost buried by a cushion of polystyrene chips and fluffy toy lambs, lay Brian Links. His mouth was taped over hard and he was bound with wrappings of strong packaging tape looping his body. His eyes were wide open and they rolled wildly as he looked up at them. There were bruises on his face and dried blood ran down in a ribbon from a wound on his brow.

  “Well,” said Legrand dryly, looking at all the toy lambs. “He ain´t no Good Shepherd but at least he´s alive.”

  The three men lifted Brian out of the crate and Stoeffel began to cut through his bindings with his pocketknife. Summersby picked up one of the toys and turned it over in his hands. With a sudden sharp wrench he twisted off the head from the body. A small plastic sack full of powder dropped onto the floor and burst open in a splash of white.

  “Gotcha,” breathed Stoeffel, stripping the last piece of tape from Brian´s mouth.

  “Chief,” gasped Brian. “I didn´ know. Lord, I swear it. I didn´ know.”

  “You didn´t know what, Brian?”

  He pointed at the pack on the floor. “I didn´t know Bubba was into this.”

  Summersby leant down and stuck a finger in the exploded pile. He tasted it and looked up.

  “Guess you were right, Chief. It´s cocaine, sure enough.”

  Stoeffel looked at Brian with hard eyes. “Talk to me,” he ordered harshly.

  Brian shook his shoulders uncomfortably, rubbing his hands one over the other.

  “It was Joline and me. We have a thing. We love each other, Chief. I should have told you but I didn´t want Joline to get trouble from Bubba. That’s where I was during that extra time off in my lunch break, I was with Joline.”

  “And the toy lamb? You never bought that in any store, did you?” />
  “No. I stole it. I took it from the Loville possessions. It just seemed right, Chief. They had all this stuff, they wouldn´t miss a damned little toy. And Epsie, you know....” he broke off with a quiet sob. “She looked so pretty, so sweet in her shepherdess getup. All she needed was that lamb there to make her outfit complete. I couldn´t resist it, Chief. Lord, if only I had.”

  “And what happened here?” Stoeffel waved around the office. “Who got you out?”

  “Big fella. The bald headed one with the cut lip who works for Bubba. Name’s Eric. He just come open the cell door with a shotgun in his hand. I came out and there was Leroy, head all broke an´ lying there dead. Man, I could have died myself right then. I thought they was going to kill me too. They hustled me back to the warehouse and beat me some. Tied me up and threw me in that box there.”

  Stoeffel sighed, the others standing in a circle around the crate watching him.

  “You been a fool, boy,” he said, arms folded across his chest.

  Brian hung his head. “I know it, Chief. Believe me I had plenty of time to think on it, tied up in that box.”

  “Here´s what you do,” Stoeffel said decisively. “Your folks are all cut up. The phone and cell net is down so you´ll have get up there best you can on foot and let them know you´re alright. Now, my best guess is that Joline gave us the information that led us up to the Loville place. So she´s in big danger. Do you think you can get her out on your way, I just can´t spare any of these guys right now.”

  Brian nodded. “Sure, I´ll do it. But you´d better know Chief, Bubba Rose is one cold hearted man. He really means business this time. I never seen him so worked up. An´ those boys he has with him, they are somethin` else. You know what I mean?”

  “I hear you, son. Now you get along fast and see you stay out of sight on the way, y´hear?”

  Brian slipped out the door and Stoeffel turned to the others. “I have some bad news to tell you fellas. Ayleen didn´t make it. They´ve mined the road. Blew her and her car away.”

  Legrand looked down at his boots. “Aw, no. Hell, that is too bad.”

  “So we have no help coming?” asked Summersby.

  “Well, maybe we just have to hold out a while longer. That old fellow, Leban Griss in on his way to Minerstown on foot.”

  “That old man?” asked Legrand incredulously. “It´ll take him all day and then some.”

  Stoeffel shrugged. “Maybe, but he´s a vet and done some heavy duty in his time. I think he knows his way around. He´ll make it, maybe quicker than you think.”

  “Sure hope so,” breathed Legrand. “We´re running out of staff fast here.”

  “You´re right there, Jason. Reminds me, does anyone know where that Jimmy Luke is?”

  The other two shook their heads negatively.

  “Okay,” said Stoeffel. “Let’s get this box out of the way. We´ll lock her in the storeroom for now.”

  The three of them pushed the crate along the corridor and into the rear storeroom. Stoeffel locked the door and gave it a satisfied pat with his hand.

  “That´ll do her for now.”

  They were on their way back along the corridor when the sudden sound of gunfire froze them in their tracks. In a cacophony of noise, the front of the station erupted in a crash of broken window glass and splintered woodwork. Aluminum blinds splayed out in crazy patterns and thrashed across the front office as a chain of automatic shells continued across the building, smashing into the front glass panel doors and imploding them into a spray of glittering splinters. Ragged holes appeared along the opposite walls inside the office, spouting clouds of broken plasterboard.

  “Automatic fire!” Shouted Stoeffel, dropping to his knees and hugging the protection of the corridor wall. “They´re trying to knock us out.”

  The firing ceased and there was only the tinkle of falling light fittings and the rustle of broken blinds. Stoeffel poked his head around the edge of the corridor wall. The office was a disaster zone. Everything inside had been shredded. Dust and smoke filled the interior.

  “You still standing, Stoeffel?”

  It was Bubba Rose bellowing at them from the street outside.

  “I hear you, Bubba. What are you trying on here?”

  “Just you don´t worry your head about that, Chief. All we need is a little time out here. Now I got men positioned all around so you just stay inside and no harm will come to you. Just need a couple of hours, that’s all.”

  Stoeffel hunched over peering out through the shattered station doors, trying to make out the position of the marksman.

  “We have your crate of goodies in here, Bubba. You want to come in and get it?”

  Bubba laughed loudly. “No, Chief. You have a crate of goodies. Believe me, buddy, that ain´t it all, not by a long shot. No it ain´t. What you have there is no more than a little taster. You´re welcome to try it out any time. Call it a little going away present.”

  Stoeffel glanced over his shoulder in dismay at the other two.

  “It won´t work, Bubba,” he shouted. “They´ll come get you, one way or the other.”

  “I don´t think so, Chief. We got it figured, we´ll be long gone before anybody gets in here.”

  “You cut that little girl, Bubba?”

  Bubba Rose paused. Stoeffel could see him standing boldly in the middle of the street holding an automatic rifle one handed over his shoulder.

  “Why not?” he shrugged. “Fucking kid had my sheep.”

  “That was mean work, Bubba. A bad thing to do.”

  “Stoeffel, it weren´t nothing but just another little nigger gal an´ I offed plenty of them before now. Now you listen up, I got snipers positioned front and back. These boys were Uncle Sam´s best so you show as much as a tip of that busted nose of yours and they´ll take your head off, you hear me?”

  “I hear you.”

  Stoeffel watched the tall figure turn and walk away out of sight. He scrunched around and indicated to the other two that they should move further down the corridor.

  “We´re safe here unless they got a 90 mm out there,” he said. “This here is a brick support wall.”

  “They got us sown up though,” said Legrand.

  “How many ways out of here?” asked Summersby.

  “Just front and fire exit at back,” answered Stoeffel. “It’s a police station. Entrance and egress is kept to a minimum. Even the lights in the roof were sealed up after 9/11 in case some terrorist decided to toss a grenade in.”

  “Then what do we do?”

  Stoeffel unhitched his two-way. “We´ve only got one man left on the outside now. It has to be him.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Brian made it a block away before he heard the sound of shots ripping across Main Street.

  He had kept to the narrow side streets and alleys after he left the police station, moving tenaciously in the general direction of the Rose warehouse. His concern for Joline had mounted in his chest with every step. Keeping to the shadows he edged his gaze back around the corner of the shuttered Tea Shoppe and looked back down Main Street. He heard and saw the shouted exchange between Stoeffel and Bubba Rose, clenching his teeth angrily at the mean confession of his sister’s murder.

  Now certain that Bubba and his crew were occupied elsewhere, Brian made the most of the opportunity and hurried on over to the warehouse. The front doors were open and inside a deathly stillness filled the darkened offices. Brian moved cautiously inside, passing Bubba´s gross vermilion office with barely a glance. On tiptoe he advanced down the corridor towards Joline´s room.

  Around the door he saw her legs first, stretched out on the carpeted floor. Those wonderful slender limbs he knew so well. With fear biting at his chest he rushed into the room and bit down on his lip at what he saw. Joline lay in a pool of her blood, a glazed expression in her eyes. Bubba had cut her. Cut her deep on the face, slicing open both her cheeks and slitting up one nostril. He had made a mess of her looks. The greatest punishment he could
think of for such a beautiful woman.

  Joline stared back up at Brian numbly until slow recognition filled her gaze. Then her hands moved up to cover the cuts, her expression crumpling.

  “Oh, Brian,” she moaned. “He hurt me so bad.” Blood pumped from the flayed edges of her open wounds as she spoke and it ran down between the fingers of her hands.

  “Joline,” Brian mumbled, kneeling beside her. “Oh, baby. Oh, my baby girl.”

  He unzipped the front of the prison overalls he still wore and pulled the tee shirt underneath over his head. With quick motions he ripped the thin cloth apart and made a swath of bandages to cover Joline´s face. Quickly he lifted the slender form into his arms.

  “Come on, honey. I´m getting you out of here.”

  Brian ran. Dragging Joline in the crook of his arm, he headed out of the warehouse and running at a trot uphill, they started for the outskirts of town. A fit young man fired with desperate energy, he helped Joline along the sidewalk as fast as he could, making good time as he climbed the hillside of Lodrun´s east side and heading for the overlooking outskirts. By the time he reached his parent’s house, sweat had soaked his face and his heart pumped loudly in his head, the breath rasping in his throat.

  “Momma!” he called breathlessly, bursting through the front door. “Momma, you gotta help me.”

  Ruth and Reason Links jumped up from the breakfast table and stared in awe at their son and the limp blood stained woman he held in his arms.

  “Oh, Brian! What have you done?” his mother gasped.

  “No, Momma. It wasn´t me. It was Bubba Rose, he done this to her,” tears flooded from his eyes as he fought to catch his breath. “This is my Joline. She´s my precious. My only one. Momma, help me please.”

  They laid the girl on a couch in the front room and Ruth ran off to fetch antiseptic and hot water to wash the wounds. Reason looked down at his son kneeling beside Joline, her hands clasped in both of his.