Paradise

by Michael R. Watson

  “How do we get past him?” whispered Taylor.

  “We’ll backtrack and work ourselves around him,” answered Damon.

  “It’s too dangerous,” replied Taylor, taking off toward the man on guard.

  “No!” yelled Damon in a loud whisper. The last thing he wanted was to make their presence known. He stayed where he was, helplessly watching Taylor dart from tree to tree, working his way to the unsuspecting guard, using the shadows for cover whenever possible.

  Taylor made it to the opposite side of the tree where the sentry sat. He looked back to Damon who tried to wave him off, shaking his head no. Taylor pulled a knife, its blade glistening in the moonlight. There was nothing Damon could do, except watch. Taylor acted quickly, reaching around and thrusting the blade into the man’s chest. The man, sleeping, hadn’t had a chance, dying instantly, his head slumping forward. Taylor waved the furious Damon over. Now, the townspeople would know someone had been there. Exactly what Damon and the governor hadn’t wanted, and Taylor knew it. Damon looked at the dead sentry. He appeared to still be sleeping.

  “You idiot!” shouted Damon in a loud whisper, backhanding him. “What were you thinking?”

  Taylor took a step back, wiping the blood from his lip and holding the knife up. “Don’t ever do that again, or I’ll kill you!”

  Damon had had it with Taylor. He had served his purpose, was out of control, and had become a liability.

  “Get going,” said Damon, ignoring Taylor’s threat.

  “They’ll just think someone from inside the community did it,” Taylor tried to explain.

  “From what you’ve told me about them, it’s not likely.”

  When they reached the rope, Damon told Taylor to climb first. Taylor grabbed the rope and placed his first step on the cliff wall, beginning to pull himself up. Damon pulled his own knife and stepped toward Taylor, quickly placing one hand over Taylor’s mouth and thrusting the blade upward into the small of Taylor’s back. Taylor gasped as his grip tightened on the rope momentarily then released, dropping heavily to the ground. Still conscious, he looked up at Damon. “Why?” he uttered.

  “You couldn’t be trusted,” Damon stated matter-of-factly.

  Spitting blood, a brief laugh escaped Taylor’s lips at the irony. Then he was dead.

  Damon grabbed his arms and began to drag him. At first he was just going to find a place in the heavy brush to leave him. Then he began to think. Since the sentry had been killed, it would be difficult to keep their intrusion a secret. Or would it? Maybe Taylor had a workable explanation after all. Perhaps he could change how it was perceived. Not too far away they had passed a cemetery. He smiled as a plan began to form. He drug Taylor’s body to the cemetery and not seeing anyone around, placed him on the fence near the gate, his arms spread apart, his chest out. He would be easy for the townspeople to find. With the tip of his knife he carved “A GIFT” into Taylor’s chest. Now, he hoped, whoever saw him would assume Taylor killed the sentry, and someone from their own community had then taken matters into their own hands as retaliation. Then, there wouldn’t be any reason for them to believe he hadn’t acted alone. Damon stood back and admired his handiwork. Hearing voices, he scrambled back into the brush. Cutting a limb off a bush, he quickly swept the drag marks, returning to the rope and beginning the climb.

  With Taylor dead he was sure they’d consider the danger to be over. There was no reason to believe they would come looking for him. Back on top he recovered the rope and worked his way silently back to where they had left the horses tied up. He untied the reins of Taylor’s horse and set him free, slapping it on its hind quarters. Finding a single horse would support the idea of one intruder, contributing to the deception. Damon began the long ride back to Sector 4. The governor would be pleased to learn the valley did exist and had all the resources he had hoped for.

  * * *

  We woke to the repeated clanging of the church bell. I quickly pulled on my jeans and boots, grabbing my pistol as I rushed outside. The sky was just beginning to lighten. Several people ran by, including Levi.

  “What’s going on?” I asked him.

  “It’s your friend Taylor. He’s at the cemetery and he’s been killed. And the man we had on watch is dead too.”

  Levi was one of the few people in the community who openly blamed me for bringing Taylor there.

  I couldn’t believe my ears. Taylor had come back? Again? Alone? Why? Sarah came to my side, taking my arm, followed by Christopher and Cindy.

  “Did he say something about Taylor?” asked Sarah.

  I started not to tell her, knowing they had become friends of sorts while I’d been away. Even after everything Taylor had done, I knew she still had a connection with him and didn’t think of him in the same way I did. Reluctantly, I said, “Taylor’s dead.”

  Sarah became weak in the knees, cupped her hands over her mouth, and sunk to the ground as she began to cry. Cindy placed an arm around her shoulder, but showed no emotion. She had come to accept what Taylor actually was.

  “Stay with your mother,” I told Christopher and Cindy. “I’ll be back in a little while.”

  “Dad, can I come?” asked Christopher.

  I hesitated. Christopher was almost a man now. I nodded. “Okay, come on, but stay close.” We both rushed toward the cemetery. When we arrived there was a large crowd already gathered. I made my way through the crowd to see what everyone was staring at. Taylor was hanging spread-eagle on the fence with the words “A GIFT” carved into his chest. The body of the community’s sentry had been laid nearby. Samuel was examining both bodies. He slowly turned to face the crowd.

  “Does anyone know anything about what happened here?” asked Samuel, and then, looking from face to face, waited patiently for anyone to speak up.

  The crowd remained silent, a few looking around for some kind of response, and a few weakly shaking their heads.

  “They were both killed with a knife,” stated Samuel.

  He looked in my direction. I had an idea of what he was thinking.

  After a few additional moments of silence, Samuel concluded no one was going to speak up.

  “Could a couple of you men help me get him off the fence?” asked Samuel. “He shouldn’t be left up there as a public exhibit. And Mark’s body needs to go to the stables.”

  Ryder and Darby, standing nearby, stepped forward and began to untangle Taylor from the fence and ease him onto the ground.

  “Mark!” yelled a woman from the back of the crowd. Everyone turned to look, stepping back to clear a path for her. “Mark!” she repeated in panic.

  “Someone, stop her!” shouted Samuel.

  But it was too late. She stopped and glanced at the man being removed from the fence, then saw her husband, stumbling and falling onto his body, crying uncontrollably.

  “Could some of you help Mrs. Newman home?” suggested Samuel.

  A couple women came forward, trying to console her and to lift her to her feet, but she fought to stay with her husband. Only with help, she was helped home.

  “Go on home, folks. We’ll let you know when we figure out what happened here. Right now, I’m going to guess Mr. Grey killed Mark Newman while he was on guard duty last night and then someone killed Mr. Grey in retaliation.”

  Paradise didn’t have a town marshal and they’d never needed one. If anyone had a dispute, they came to Samuel who acted as mediator. Crime of any kind had never been an issue. Without an official title, he was their marshal, counselor, and on Sundays, their preacher.

  The crowd slowly began to disperse after taking one last look at Taylor’s remains. Mark’s body had already been removed to the stable where it could be prepared for burial.

  “John,” asked Samuel, “could you stick around for a bit?”

  I nodded and turned to my son. “Christopher, go on back and check on your mom. I’ll be along soon.”

  “It was like he was two different people,” commented Christopher, staring at t
he body for a few more moments before turning and slowly walking away.

  “What do you want us to do with him?” asked Ryder.

  “We’ll bury him here with Mark and everyone else,” replied Samuel.

  “He doesn’t belong in the cemetery with the good people of Paradise!” yelled Ryder.

  “Everyone deserves a decent burial, Son.”

  “He doesn’t and I won’t help dig his grave!” shouted Ryder as he stormed off. Darby shrugged his shoulders to Samuel and followed after his friend.

  “Would you give me a hand, John?” asked Samuel. “Let’s move him to the back of the cemetery.”

  They carried him through the gate and set him along the back fence where Samuel took off his jacket and laid it across Taylor’s face and chest.

  Now alone, Samuel stepped up to me, looking into my eyes, “Did you do this?”

  I was taken aback. “Of course not. Why would you think such a thing?”

  “You are one of the few people who wanted to see him dead.”

  “I think there were more people than you think,” I countered.

  “Well, anyway, I know you felt responsible for bringing him here. And the only other person who immediately comes to mind is the Widow Wilkins, since Taylor was responsible for her husband’s death. But since she’s eighty years old and not physically able, I don’t think she’s a very likely candidate. So, that leaves you at the top of the list.”

  “I’m not sorry he’s gone, but I give you my word I didn’t have anything to do with it. Maybe whoever was responsible is afraid to come forward, even though he did us all a favor.”

  “There just aren’t many men here who are capable of doing something like this,” said Samuel.

  “Except for me, you mean.” I thought about Ryder and Darby. They were just as capable, probably more so from what I had witnessed, but I wasn’t going to mention them. “I’m not sure it’s much of an issue anyway. He killed Mark while he was on duty, not a threat to anyone, and in return someone killed Taylor. I, for one, am relieved we don’t have to worry about him anymore.”

  “If you didn’t do it,” continued Samuel, “then there’s still a killer among us, whether they were justified or not. I have to think about the community. Do you think there’s still a reason for these people to be afraid? I can’t reassure them until we know for certain who did it and why.”

  I didn’t have an answer for him. I only knew that I was innocent, but someone had done the community a favor by giving them “A GIFT” and I for one was grateful. I had spent many sleepless nights remembering the things Taylor had done and stressing over what he might do next.

  Sarah was no longer crying when I returned to our cabin. She was busy at the stove preparing a breakfast for us. Our family sat together at the table, blessed the food, prayed for Mark’s wife, and ate together in silence. Taylor’s name was never mentioned.

  That evening, at dusk, the entire community gathered for the gravesite services. Mark Newman’s service was first. Samuel said some wonderful words over the young man followed by two songs. Mark’s newlywed wife, seated near the gravesite, was inconsolable. After the service, the young widow was escorted away. The members of my family were the only ones who remained behind with Samuel for Taylor’s service, receiving disapproving stares from the others as they wandered away. I was only there at Sarah’s request. Ryder and Darby leaned against a tree in the distance, watching. As Samuel began to speak, Sarah began to cry once again. The words he said over Taylor were brief and I was thankful.

  Afterwards, Samuel, Sarah and the children headed to the Town Hall where the community had already gathered for a potluck dinner. I stayed behind, motioning for Ryder to join me. He came over accompanied by Darby.

  “Did you do it?” whispered Ryder. “It’s okay if you did. I would have done it myself if given the chance.”

  “No, I didn’t,” I said. “And that’s the same thing your dad asked. So, are you saying you didn’t do it?”

  “Sorry to say, but no, I didn’t do it either.”

  I looked at Darby, Ryder’s constant companion.

  “Don’t look at me.”

  “Well, someone did,” I said, speaking the obvious. “Have any ideas who could have?”

  “None. But someone brought a horse into the stable today. It could have been his. It had the Guard’s markings on it. Levi said it was found roaming free above the rim.”

  “A Guard’s horse? It probably was Taylor’s then. Maybe we should take a look around up there. Does Levi know exactly where it was found?” I asked.

  “If he doesn’t, I’m sure he can find out,” answered Ryder.

  “It’s too dark to do anything now. Let’s meet at the stable at first light,” I suggested.

  “What are we going to be looking for?” asked Darby.

  “I’m not sure. Just a hunch. If you were Taylor, would you have come back here alone?”

  * * *

  Levi led me, Ryder, and Darby to where the horse had been found grazing.

  “Ryder, why don’t you come with me,” I said. “We’ll go west along the rim from here. And Darby, you and Levi check it out to the east. Keep your eyes open for anything suggesting Taylor wasn’t alone. If you find something, signal us with a single shot into the air and we’ll do likewise.”

  Darby looked at Ryder. It didn’t occur to me until then he probably didn’t like the idea of me telling him what to do. Ryder nodded and Darby and Levi rode off.

  Ryder and I rode side by side watching the ground for hoof prints.

  “I’m not seeing anything,” said Ryder.

  “This may not be the way he came to the valley. Maybe Darby and Levi will have better luck.”

  “Stop! Look here!” Ryder said excitedly, as he dismounted.

  “Did you find hoof prints?” I asked.

  “I found something better. Footprints.”

  I dismounted and joined him to get a closer look.

  “You’re right. No mistake about it,” I agreed. “And there are two sets headed toward the rim.” I began to look around further. “Here’s another set! From one person, leading away from the valley.” I looked in the direction they led and saw nothing but scrub brush and sand.

  “This is what we were looking for, wasn’t it?” asked Ryder.

  “Exactly what we were looking for. There were two people.”

  Ryder pulled his pistol. “Want me to signal the others?”

  “Sure, go ahead,” I answered.

  Ryder pulled his gun and fired a single shot into the air. He had fallen into the position of leader of the Raiders partly just by chance, being in the right place at the right time. The men liked him and gladly followed him. Another reason was he had grown up in the area and knew it well, occasionally accompanying his dad when looking for supplies, and frequently sneaking off as a boy to explore the surrounding area. He was a natural leader, and smart, and it came easily to him.

  It was comforting to know Ryder was willing to let me take the lead on this without any hesitation. Perhaps it was our age difference, me as a middle-aged elder, or because I seemed to have some of the same values his father did.

  At about one hundred yards from the rim the vegetation became dense, making it harder to follow the meandering footprints through the tall grasses and heavy brush.

  We saw Darby and Levi approaching. Ryder explained what we’d found.

  “You know, John, we don’t know whether either set of these footprints belonged to Taylor,” mentioned Ryder. “It could have just been someone from the valley.”

  “I know, but who else would have a reason to be up here, and on foot. If I’m right, these footprints should lead back to where they tied up their horses. Levi, could you check it out?” I asked.

  He smiled at being given the responsibility. Still young, he liked being given the opportunity to prove himself.

  “I’ll go with him,” offered Darby.

  Levi’s smile faded away. “I don’t need
any help!” snapped Levi.

  “I’d feel better if we stayed paired up,” I suggested. “There could still be a killer on the loose. Okay?”

  Levi thought about it as he looked around. Knowing I was right, he nodded agreement. He and Darby led their horses back to the north, away from Paradise and the rim. Ryder and I followed the footprints back toward the rim’s edge.

  “Look here,” said Ryder. He pointed to the trunk of a mesquite tree. “See where the bark has been worn away recently? I’ll bet this is where they tied a rope so they could get down.” At the rim, the area had been trampled by activity. I looked over the edge. It was a vertical drop of twenty-five to thirty feet to the valley floor. I could see where the sandstone cliff face had been scuffed up as someone rappelled down.

  “This is definitely where someone went down,” I said. “If you’ll bring a rope, I’ll go down and take a look around.”

  Ryder quickly returned with the rope and tied it to the same tree the intruders had used and threw the coil of rope over the edge.

  I grabbed the rope and turned my back toward the valley, pulling the rope taut and setting both feet on the edge of the rim. Then, with one small step at a time, I lowered myself down the cliff face.

  Ryder watched from above to know when I’d reached bottom.

  “See anything?” shouted Ryder.

  I didn’t answer right away, looking closely around the immediate area. “It would be easy to stay concealed from the town down here.” I paused while continuing to search the area. “I see drag marks. It looks like a person was drug away from the cliff.” Then I noticed my boots were coated in sand. I scraped away the top layer of sand with my hand. Underneath, my boot was covered with blood. Someone had kicked clean sand over the blood-stained earth in an attempt to hide it.

  “I think we just found where Taylor was killed,” I announced, looking up at Ryder.

  “Do you want me to come down?” asked Ryder.

  “No. I’m going to follow these drag marks. I think we both know where they’ll lead. I’d appreciate it if you’d take my horse and meet me at the cemetery. Would you have Darby and Levi join us?”