by S. W. Lauden
CHAPTER THREE
It was pitch black and freezing cold. Again.
Marco wrapped his arms around his bent knees and rocked in place to keep warm. Bears were no longer an issue since Magnus and his men started sealing him into the pit at night. Now the only monsters he fought were the ones he conjured himself. Most of them, these days, looked like some version of Magnus.
He spent many sleepless nights throwing pointless punches into the surrounding darkness. Rattling the chain clamped to his ankle, and shouting into the void. Sometimes he made promises to get his revenge on Magnus. Other times he prayed out loud that Greg would come to rescue him.
And in the morning they would rip the plywood back, letting the sunlight blind him. Magnus was there to greet him for the first few days, coffee in hand and a smile on his face. He always seemed excited for Marco about the backbreaking work that lay ahead. Lately, it was just his soulless soldiers with their guns and grunted orders.
Marco wondered how many more nights like this he could survive, when somebody pulled the plywood back. Stars filled the night sky behind the woman who peeked down at him over the edge of the pit.
“I have something for you. From your friend Greg.”
She tossed down a folded blanket that hit the ground with a dull thud. He reached over and immediately wrapped it around his body. The unexpected warmth was better than any drugs he had ever taken.
Marco looked up to thank her, but his guardian angel was already gone. The last sliver of light disappeared as she slid the plywood back into place.
›
“Wake up, love birds.”
Greg saw a strange look on Magnus’s face when he opened his eyes. It was a cross between fury and joy. Then he saw the rifle in the old man’s hands, and felt the tip of the barrel pressed against his chest. Kristen was already up and getting dressed, but Magnus told her to stay put.
“I’ve got something to say to the two of you.”
She had practically moved in with Greg over the last two weeks. They’d spend their days apart, but come together every night when the long workdays were done. Greg was spending most of his time with Magnus, following in his shadow, learning everything he could about Grizzly Flats. He had no idea what Kristen did with her time, or what her role was in the organization. Only that Magnus seemed to trust her more than the other girls. That made Greg want to trust her less, when he wasn’t clinging to her to get him through the long nights.
Kristen dropped her dress and climbed back on top of the bearskin. Greg could feel her trembling next to him. He took her hand in his and squeezed it tight. If Magnus noticed, he didn’t let it show.
“We need to talk, Greg. It’s time for you and I to come to some kind of agreement.”
Greg’s eyes flicked to the gun barrel. There had to be a right way to respond, but he couldn’t decide what it was.
“I’m listening.”
“I’ve shared my master plan with you. You know everything about my business plan, but time’s running out. It’s becoming a distraction. That stops right here, right now. I’ve already told you that I want you to come work for me—with me. We would be partners, splitting some of the profits. I also told you what I would do if you refused my offer.”
Greg could picture Marco with a gun to his head somewhere in the camp. The image made his stomach turn. He nodded, trying hard not to show any emotion.
“I need to know your answer right now.”
“What exactly would this partnership entail?”
“I need somebody I can trust to keep the cash coming in while I work with the other team on perfecting Grizzly Bear.”
“Why me?”
“I don’t have a lot of other options at the moment. From what I’ve seen you know how to handle yourself.”
“And you’ll kill Marco if I say no.”
Magnus swung the rifle from Greg’s chest to Kristen’s forehead.
“Not just him.”
Kristen was digging her nails into the palm of Greg’s hand now. She shut her eyes and gritted her teeth. Greg thought about wrestling the gun away from Magnus, but knew who would pay the price if he failed. There really wasn’t much of a choice.
“I need to see Marco first.”
Magnus lifted the rifle, turning to face the exit.
“Boys! Bring him in.”
There was a scuffling sound outside of the tent. Greg watched the flaps of the door split open. Marco came flying through in a pool of sunlight and dust. His hands were tied tight in front of him, but he still managed to break his fall. He stood up and shook the hair from his face.
“What the hell’s going on, dude?!”
“Your friend and I are in the middle of a negotiation. He requested your presence.”
Marco went to look at Greg, but overshot the mark and landed on Kristen’s naked body instead.
“Hey, you’re the chick that—”
“That put the honey all over you?”
Greg looked over at Kristen. The way she interrupted Marco made it seem like she was hiding something. Whatever it was, he didn’t want to discuss it in front of Magnus. Greg figured he could ask her about it later, when they were alone.
“Marco, you doing okay?”
“Not as good as you, from the looks of things.”
“Are they feeding you?”
“Getting a little burned-out on baloney and beans, but I’ve had worse. One thing’s for sure, bro. It’d be nice not to sleep in that pit for change.”
Greg swung his head to look at Magnus, trying to contain his anger.
“He sleeps with me from now on.”
Magnus grinned.
“I’ll agree to move him into his own tent if it’ll make you feel better.”
“Hell yeah you will.”
Both Greg and Magnus turned at the sound of Marco’s voice. He had his chest puffed out like a strutting rooster.
“And I want my iguana back.”
Magnus threw a punch, knocking Marco to the ground. Greg lunged, but Kristen held him back. All he could do was scream.
“Leave him alone! I’ll do whatever you want.”
“I assume we have a deal then?”
Magnus took a step forward with his hand out. Greg brought his up and they shook on it.
›
Greg’s first day on the job started immediately. Kristen tried to pull him back to the cot once Magnus left, but he managed to get his clothes on anyway. There were some things he needed to figure out if they were going to get out of Grizzly Flats in one piece. He had more than just Marco to worry about now.
She held up one of the ropes and flashed a wicked smile.
“Next time I might have to tie you up myself so you can’t get away.”
Greg turned to leave, but stopped.
“What was Marco talking about earlier, when you cut him off?”
She tried to act surprised, but her eyes betrayed her.
“It was cold last night, so I snuck a blanket out to him. No big deal.”
But it was a big deal to Greg. He bent down and gave her a kiss before he said goodbye.
Magnus was waiting for him in the stadium with three of his men; none of them could have been older than twenty-one. They were wearing thick leather gloves and fully-loaded backpacks. One of them handed Greg some identical gear, and Magnus started barking out orders.
“I need you to get a better sense of the property, so I’m sending you out with these three. Booby trap blew a big hole in one of the fences on the far side of the main field. Don’t do anything stupid, partner.”
Magnus winked as he gave Greg a fatherly slap on the back. His three escorts took off at a fast clip, jogging out of the camp and all the way across the field. Greg was in pretty good shape from all the hiking he’d been doing, but still a little stiff fr
om the blast. He did his best to seem like he was keeping up, while also keeping his distance.
Greg tried to remember the details of their route, memorizing every turn they took. It all seemed at least a little familiar thanks to the map that Kristen had shown him. He still wasn’t sure if that was a brave or stupid move on her part, but he had to admit that it made him trust her more.
Small clusters of women popped up between the plants to watch as they passed. Greg guessed they were doing some harvesting, but he didn’t have the first clue about marijuana cultivation. He was several yards behind the rest of his crew when he saw them stop. One of them pulled out a map and studied it while the other two scanned the nearby trees and rabbit trails. They were having some kind of hushed debate when Greg caught up.
“This the spot?”
The guy closest to him motioned to a shattered fence post. There was another one in better shape a few yards in the other direction. Greg figured that this was close to where he had entered Grizzly Flats.
“Should we get to work?” Greg said to the guy next to him; but the guy with the map answered.
“Hang on. We’re trying to figure out if there’s another trip wire right here.”
The kid spun the map ninety degrees, as if reading it sideways would help.
“Is that a master map?”
“Supposed to be, but it doesn’t make much sense.”
“Let me take a look.”
“That’s okay, we’ve got it.”
They huddled and exchanged a few whispers. The map got folded up and put away before Greg could see anything. Wire and tools were starting to come out of the backpacks when there was a rumbling sound in the distance. They all turned in the direction of the rapidly approaching noise. The first shouts came from somewhere in the middle of the field.
“Helicopters!”
Greg watched as heads dropped from view across the leafy green horizon. The rest of his team did the same, ducking behind boulders and backing-up against trees. Greg stayed right where he was, trying to play dumb for as long as he could. The Sheriff’s Department helicopters were in full view when somebody yanked him to the ground.
“Are you crazy?”
Greg looked up at the sky as the whirlybirds buzzed by. It seemed like they might be moving too fast to even notice what was going on beneath them. Or maybe these officers were already on Magnus’s payroll.
The helicopters echoed away into the distance just as quickly as they had arrived. Greg cursed under his breath as he stood up to dust himself off. One of the trio slapped some wire cutters into his hand and they all went straight to work on mending the fence. They were done in a couple of hours and back in camp just in time for lunch. Greg didn’t see Kristen around, so he grabbed a tray of food and took a seat next to Magnus.
“We had some unexpected visitors out there in the fields today.”
Magnus snorted and took a drink from his mug. He wiped his lips with the back of a dirty hand.
“So I heard. Friends of yours?”
“I was about to ask you the same thing.”
“Hard to keep track. Seems like they send new recruits up here for training.”
Greg gave a dismissive snort.
“Yeah. They save the cushy desk jobs for us veterans.”
“Well, at least the rookies are cheaper to bribe. By the way, don’t be surprised if there’s a different Ursula in your cot tonight.”
Greg stopped mid-bite, a spoonful of beans hovering in front of his face.
“Excuse me?”
“Don’t forget, she’s my girl. You two had your fun, but it’s time to mix things up. Keep it fresh. Cheers.”
Magnus stood up and left. Greg finished his bite and took a look around. Whatever plan was brewing in the back of his mind had just been destroyed.
He was tearing into his sandwich when he heard several explosions in the distance. First, one—followed by two more in quick succession. Each time it got a little closer. Soon they were going off every few seconds. Somebody was systematically detonating the booby traps as they made their way toward the camp.
CHAPTER FOUR
People all around Greg jumped up from their tables and started running. The women made a beeline for the tents, while the men scattered. A few of them headed for the corral to pull out the motorcycles. Two dune buggies tore across camp in the direction of the tent where they were growing the Grizzly Bear. Greg assumed that Magnus must be in one of those vehicles, but couldn’t spot him.
Two men yanked tarps back from where the motorcycles had been stashed and started handing out guns. Greg grabbed a rifle and headed straight for his tent. He had no idea if Kristen would be there in the middle of the day, but he didn’t know where else to look. She had their backpacks ready to go when he arrived.
“We have to hurry.”
“We can’t leave without Marco.”
She took both of his hands in hers and looked him straight in the eye.
“I know. I’ll take you to him.”
The tents on either side of theirs were already collapsing when they emerged. He could hear gunfire on the other side of the camp, and motorcycles revving. The unmistakable scent of burning marijuana choked the air as the field went up in flames. Smoke was closing in all around them as they fumbled along to the few structures that still remained standing. Marco was nowhere to be found, but Kristen wasn’t ready to give up.
She grabbed Greg’s wrist, pulling him along behind her. It was hard to see even a few feet in front of them now, but they managed to find the bear pit. She pulled off the cinderblocks while Greg ripped the plywood back. They raced down the ramp together, but found only dirt and bones at the bottom.
The first shots buzzed by their heads as they reemerged. Greg pushed Kristen to the ground and chanced a look over the edge. He could see the silhouettes of Magnus and a gaggle of goons closing in fast. It looked like they were dragging Marco behind them.
Overloaded motorcycles were whizzing out of the camp all around them, heading for the hiking trails. Greg lifted his rifle and fired, narrowly missing one of the young guards. He fell hard and the others dropped on their bellies beside him. Magnus screamed to Greg over the automatic gunfire that echoed through the camp.
“Now or never! Give me the girl or your friend is bear food!”
Greg looked down at Kristen. She looked back with pleading eyes, begging him not to hand her over. He knew that he needed to save both Kristen and Marco, but he didn’t know how.
Visibility was almost down to zero, and an army of Forest Service, Sheriff’s Department, and Drug Enforcement Agency officers would be on them soon. Greg knew that saving Kristen entailed more than just getting her away from Magnus. He had to find a way to keep her from getting arrested and thrown in prison too.
He lifted her up and pointed toward the field.
“Straight across the middle, where the smoke’s the thickest. Just like on the map you showed me. Don’t stop until you reach the other side. Keep climbing up the slope until you find the trail.”
“Aren’t you coming with me?”
“I’ll be right behind you, as soon as I get Marco. Ready?”
She bit her lip and nodded, stroking his face with the back of her hand. Greg took aim in the direction of Magnus and started squeezing the trigger in a slow rhythm. He wasn’t trying to hit anybody, just buying her some time.
“Go!”
Magnus and his men returned fire, but none of the bullets came close. The fields were engulfed in flames now. Smoke billowed over Greg like whitewash from a massive wave. He thought he could hear Marco whimpering, but tried to block it out. Then he heard him scream.
“Greg! He’s got a gun to my head!”
“Last chance or your friend dies.”
Two stun grenades went off in the stadium, knocking several people to the gr
ound. Dark figures in combat gear were swarming the camp. Greg heard a single shot ring out, followed by a heavy thud and the sound of Magnus and his men running away. He sprang from the pit and sprinted to where he thought Marco might be. He was halfway there when two helmeted figures emerged from the smoke. He put his hands behind his head and dropped to his knees. Tears sparkled in the little red dots that danced across his face.
“Take it easy. I’m a cop.”
It wasn’t true, but it kept him from getting shot. Especially since he was dressed like all the others. They zip-tied his wrists behind his back, leading him out of the camp. There was a command center set up several hundred yards beyond the burning field. A dozen other men in jeans and flannel shirts were seated with their backs against huge boulders. Greg sat down beside them and kept his mouth shut tight.
The gunfire didn’t die down for another hour, getting farther and farther away. Fire planes arrived a little while later and dumped lake water on the flames. The steam it generated brought the temperature up for a few minutes, just as everything got silent again. Agents led the prisoners away one by one for questioning. Greg was practically alone when the sky turned a deep blue, a spray of stars slowly emerging. He looked up, trying to think about Kristen more than Marco—praying his friend had survived.
“You the cop?”
A Sheriff’s Deputy was standing above him. His helmet was tucked under his arm and his face was smeared with greasy sweat. He held his hand out to Greg and helped him up.
“Depends on who you ask.”
“What the hell were you doing all the way out here? You undercover or something?”
“It’s a long story.”
They entered the tent and Greg plopped down into a folding chair. He answered an avalanche of questions, careful to keep his responses short and consistent. His interrogators seemed annoyed at first, but the light eventually went on behind their intense eyes.
“Tell us about your friend.”
“His name is Marco Johnson. Stringy, blonde hair. About five-foot-nine, maybe a buck forty, soaking wet.”