Joe looked at Clive to make sure his friend was fine, and when the two nodded at each other again, they continued forward. It was likely that there was no exit at the other end of this tunnel. That meant that Slaughter Okoro had backed himself into a corner, placing his trust in his guards who were now dead.
But Joe couldn’t be sure if Slaughter was alone down here, even after killing his bodyguard. There could be another. He hadn’t gotten a proper count of the Okoro gang members who were dead on the ground. Joe was sure this was the last one, but there was also the possibility that there were more than had been previously reported. If there was even one more person than just Slaughter down here, it would be dangerous for Clive and Joe.
Joe held out a hand, motioning for Clive to stop. When the Warlord complied, Joe took a deep breath and wiped the sweat from his forehead.
“Slaughter!” he yelled out. “You ain’t got a chance, you hear? You put your gun away and we’ll think about just tying your wrists together.”
The two of them waited almost a minute for an answer. Finally, the Okoro leader spoke from the room ahead. “I would rather you killed me. At least that way I would get the chance to take one of you with me.”
“It ain’t worth it, Slaughter,” Clive answered.
There was another long pause, and Joe thought that perhaps Slaughter was surprised to hear more than one man’s voice.
“It would be a shame for you to kill me before I could tell you something you ought to know,” the man said.
Joe looked at Clive who shook his head, his eyes narrowed.
“Sounds to me like you’re bluffing,” Joe said.
“It certainly is a possibility,” Slaughter said. “I’m coming out to show myself. Don’t fire on me.”
Joe’s grip on his gun went tighter as he pointed his gun at the room opening. A shadowed figure stepped out in front of the light, but there was enough of a glow for Joe to recognize the gang leader.
The man held his pistol pointed upward in one hand, and in the other was a book Joe had never seen before. He didn’t have to have a wild imagination to know that it was none other than The Book of Time.
“We could stand here all day,” Slaughter said, “and talk about what we should do, but we don’t have the luxury of time.”
“What are you saying?”
Slaughter grinned, his eyes glowering in the lamplight. “I have to say that I am surprised to see the Warlord and his minion down here with me. I knew I was being tracked, but I had thought it was by someone else. What’s the matter? Have you not grown tired of being dragged by my horses?”
“We didn’t track you,” Clive said. “We came in from the south.”
“Then my pursuers are near,” Slaughter said.
Joe didn’t take his eyes off the man. Something wasn’t right. What did Slaughter hope to gain by telling them this?
Slaughter shrugged. “It might already be too late.”
“Who was tracking you?” Clive said.
“It would seem that we might like to work together,” Slaughter said, ignoring Clive’s question. “At least for the next few minutes.”
“Why?” Joe spat.
“For one thing, you have killed all my men. And I have killed all of yours. Yet there are only two Rangers tracking me to this very spot. I should think three against two would make better odds than two against one.”
“You would take us to a fight so you could slip away,” Clive said.
“If we can murder the Rangers together, then we can finish our little standoff and kill each other as was intended,” Slaughter said with a smile.
Joe shook his head. “I’m a pretty decent shot. I figure the chances of me and Clive against two Rangers is probably better than if all three of us go back up together. Better to have my enemies in front than behind and in front.”
Words formed on Slaughter’s lips, but the man never got a chance to say them. With barely a thought, Joe pulled the trigger and the bullet went straight through the man’s heart.
Shock spread across Slaughter’s face as blood drooled from the wound in his chest. Then, he fell forward and died.
The two wasted no time, snatching the book from Slaughter’s firm grip. Clive was the one who wrenched it from the gang leader’s hand, and then handed it to Joe.
“I believe this is more important to you than it is to me,” he said.
Joe studied it, noting that it wasn’t The Way. The two of them scanned the room where Slaughter had been, making sure there was nothing else that might be of use. The room was empty save for a single table where the book had probably sat.
Joe reached down and felt Slaughter’s clothes, then produced another book from his coat. He held The Way up in the light. “You think we need this?”
“We got what we need,” Clive said.
Joe smiled and nodded, dropping The Way to the dirt floor and tucking The Book of Time under his arm.
The two then continued forward through the darkness until they reached the ladder and climbed back up into the cabin. The rooms were all empty of anything living. That included Edric.
Joe called out his name several times, but each time he got no answer. Clive and Joe looked at each other, wide-eyed.
When they moved to the front of the cabin, they saw two men standing in front of their horses probably twenty feet from the front door.
Joe swore under his breath and motioned for Clive to stay low. It wasn’t so much that the two men made him nervous, but that one of them was a man Joe had never seen and the other was Edric, standing next to him as an ally.
It was Clive’s turn to swear. “That’s Ranger Bastion!”
“Who is that?”
“A man who might be worth killing if you can get the shot.”
“Warlord!” Bastion called out. “I’m here under direction of President Jacob DalGaard. I am authorized to kill you, but it is preferred that you and your bodyguard are kept alive. So, we can do this peacefully. It’s your call.”
The two of them were crouched among the dead bodies in the front room. Sweat dripped down their faces despite the cold. Clive looked at Joe and shook his head. “I don’t see a way out of this one.”
“Why can’t we fight them?” Joe said.
“Slaughter said there were two of them. I don’t think he meant Edric. There’s another one watching from somewhere else.”
“What’ll it be, Warlord?” Bastion shouted again.
“Even if we could take them out,” Clive said, “the other Ranger would shoot us from somewhere.”
“But you’ve seen the future,” Joe said. “You know that I go into the book and tell you about myself.”
“And you make sure that’s all you do,” Clive said.
“What do you mean?” Joe asked.
“I mean I’ve changed my mind. I don’t want you to tell me how I die.” Water formed in his friend’s eyes. “I never wanted this job, you know. I think it was meant for you.”
Joe shook his head. “You ain’t thinking of doing something stupid, are you?”
“Maybe stupid. Definitely dangerous.”
“What exactly?”
“I’m gonna walk out there and distract them. You’re gonna take them out.”
“Edric, too?”
“Don’t you see? Edric’s the reason the Rangers are here. He sold us out. Sending hawks to a girl across town.” Clive shook his head and spat. “I should have seen it. The boy came in so sly. So coy. Should’ve known he was working for the president. Now he thinks he can get this book.” Clive scratched the side of his face. “If I don’t make it out of this, I want you to lead the Renegades the way they’re supposed to be led—the way it was always meant to be.”
“There’s another way, Clive.”
“Well, they mean to keep us alive according to Bastion,” he shrugged. “Maybe this’ll be easier than we think.”
Ignoring Joe’s protest, Clive stood from his spot and walked slowly toward the door. “I’m comin
g out!”
His gun was raised high in the air. Joe clutched the book with one hand and with the other he had a white-knuckled grip on his pistol. He dared to look over the window sill through the broken glass to see Edric and Bastion pointing their guns at Clive.
“Where’s the book?” Bastion demanded. “And your other man?”
“He’s got the book,” Clive said. “And he’s hiding.”
Bastion chewed at the inside of his lip, not taking his eyes off Clive. Edric looked in every direction, his eyes darting from one place to another nervously.
Joe didn’t know exactly what he was watching for. The Ranger and turncoat were within view but it would take a near-perfect shot for each of them.
“Why do you want the book?” Clive asked.
“The president wants it,” Bastion said. “I don’t ask questions.”
“My men would be most upset if you kill me,” Clive said.
“I believe so. That’s why if you just give me the book, I can look the other way and let you and your man go.”
“I’d rather die than see the book fall into the hands of a man like Jacob DalGaard.”
“That’s not for you to decide,” Bastion said.
“Ain’t it?”
Clive brought his gun down in a flash and only got one round off before both Bastion and Edric filled him with bullets.
Joe didn’t have time to scream out in shock or horror, he didn’t have time to feel remorse for his friend. The only thoughts passing through his mind was to pull the trigger and aim straight. His first bullet went between the men, but his second, third and fourth found Edric in the knee, stomach, and throat. His fifth, grazed Bastion’s shoulder, and the sixth landed square in the man’s chest.
Joe fumbled with the cylinder and loaded six more bullets as Bastion screamed out in an aggravated pain. Joe brought up his pistol and tore out of the cabin. Bastion brought up his gun weakly, but Joe shot the man in the chest four more times, throwing him back to the ground.
His hands shook violently as the smoke settled around him. Edric and Bastion lay dead on the ground, and Clive was sputtering blood from his lips as he clung to this world with every bit of energy he had left.
There seemed to be no sign of the third man anywhere. Joe knew it was reckless, but he had to be by Clive’s side as he took his last breaths. There could have been a different way. Why did Clive have to die like this?
He had the man’s head in his lap and their eyes met. Too many times had Joe seen the death of someone close. Images of his mother’s gaze, her bloody lips flashed through his mind. He was a child again, under his bed, watching his mother die in front of him.
Tears stung his eyes and mingled with the sweat on his cheeks. Fluid drooled from his nose as he wept uncontrollably.
“Joe,” Clive whispered. “Don’t tell me. Don’t tell me.”
Why wouldn’t Joe tell him? If he could keep Clive from sacrificing himself?
“I won’t,” Joe promised, though he wasn’t sure it was a promise he could keep.
For years, the man in his arms had shown Joe the way to live in Galamore. He had opened his eyes to a new life, a new way of thinking. Clive had been more of a father to him than anyone in recent years. The two were close souls, kindred spirits, bound together by a life of similarity.
Then, Clive breathed his last breath, closed his eyes, and died.
Joe pressed his forehead against Clive’s, sobbing uncontrollably. He was so distraught by the death of his dear friend that he didn’t hear the footsteps of the mysterious stranger behind him. He didn’t even know anyone was there until something struck him in the back of the head. He was conscious only long enough to know that he should have been more careful.
Nate
Winter, 903 A.O.M.
Nate woke up on his back, his rifle digging into it uncomfortably. Above him were leaves of green, mixed with awakening buds that were ready to sprout on every branch. This was a sign of spring. He sat up quickly, to look in every direction. All around him were bushes and trees of various shades of green, intermingled with pockets of wildflowers of every color. This place was the perfect representation of The Book of Life. Bees buzzed from flower to flower. Birds of all kinds chirped in every direction. A slight breeze moved by Nate calmly and at the perfect temperature. He felt like he’d awoken in the Garden of Eden.
When he studied the ground before him, he noticed a pathway curving around the edge of a dense forest—to where, he could not see. One of the first things to come to Nate’s mind was that this was a deceptive place. How could a utopia such as this be a place from which no man had ever returned? Perhaps none of them had died. What if it was such a wonderful place that all of them chose to stay here instead of going back to their world of death and hardship?
Unless this was some utopia that beckoned people to stay, then it was all a dangerous illusion. In either case, Nate would have to remain careful and be sure to keep his mind focused on his objective: to find the relic key. That was the goal to all of this. If he got to the key and brought it back to the world of Galamore, he would be the first to do so. That idea, however, gave him less confidence. There was a reason why no man had ever returned from this place, and he aimed to find out why.
Nate decided to walk down the path, as it seemed there was no other place to go. The path was soft with green grass, winding downward along the border of a forest to his right. To his left was a cliff face that showed a canopy of a forest beneath him. It seemed he was on the side of a mountain. For the longest time, the path continued downward until it started to climb back up. It veered to the left. Then to the right. He walked silently for several long minutes, only the bugs and chirping birds kept him company.
There was no sign of anyone else walking through here. Perhaps Kellen and his ravagers had awoken on a different path. Nate couldn’t imagine those terrible creatures in a place like this. It wasn’t for them. They couldn’t appreciate the beauty, the splendor of nature surrounding them. Perhaps that was what made them more of a threat.
He wondered what it took to obtain the relic key—if there was a test he needed to pass. He couldn’t imagine what that might be.
He continued upward for a while. Eventually he saw a valley to his left; on the other side was a massive rock mountain with a waterfall sprinkling downward. Nate briefly wondered if he had somehow died, and this was paradise, but he quickly pushed the thought out of his mind. There was no paradise waiting for men like him.
He probably walked another two miles before he finally saw Kellen and his six ravagers. He crouched next to a tree as he examined the area. The seven of them marched up a set of stone steps, leading to a large, metal gate. The gate was constructed of thick bars, and looking through it, he could tell that the stairs continued upward, but he couldn’t see much past that.
The stairs were stark white and looked to have been cut out of the side of the mountain. Grass and bushes full of flowers lined the sides of it. Somehow Nate knew that if he wanted the relic key, he’d have to follow those stairs.
He knew it wouldn’t be as simple as that. How many men had come here throughout the years thinking the same thing? He feared that only death waited on the other side of the metal gate.
From his hidden vantage point, Nate watched as the group of seven approached the gate. At the center of it stood a guard—a man with a sword and a shield. Nate thought for sure that Kellen and the ravagers would engage the man in a furious fight, but Kellen and the guard only spoke for a moment before the guard opened the gate and they walked through unscathed.
He squinted his eyes at this, wondering what Kellen might have said to the guard to let him through. Did he need a password? Did Kellen know some secret required that no other man knew?
Sitting here and watching would do nothing. If he wanted to get to that key before Kellen and the others, he had to move. Questioning every little step would cause him to miss whatever opportunity he might have.
He moved
ahead, his hand resting on his pistol at his hip. When he reached the bottom of the large stone steps, the guard looked at him with no surprise on his face, no look of concern whatsoever. It was as if the soldier regularly saw men come through here expecting to come away with the relic key, only to be destroyed upon entering through the gate.
Nate took each step slowly. When he was only a few feet away, the guard looked at Nate.
“Why do you come to my gate?”
Nate thought about the question for only a second. He didn’t want to get it wrong. What if he said something he wasn’t supposed to and the guard turned him away? Nate supposed he could try to shoot the man.
“I’ve come for the relic key,” Nate said. He swallowed, hoping it was all right to tell the truth.
The man looked at Nate with a raised eyebrow, then his eyes traveled to Nate’s hand where it rested on his gun. “You carry death with you. This is The Book of Life.”
“I carry only protection,” Nate said, patting his holster.
“Those weapons are more dangerous to you than they are to anything you might face,” the guard said. “Including your friends who just passed through. Do you mean to kill them?”
“Only if they stand in my way,” Nate said.
The guard nodded. “I will let you enter as I let everyone enter.”
“Then why are you here?”
“To warn you,” he said. “It would be better for you to run off into the forest and live as a beast the rest of your days than to attempt to take these stairs.” He shook his head as he reached for the latch at the gate and pulled it open. “But no man heeds my warning. No man has ever heeded my warning. And all of them die.”
Before Nate took a step forward, he looked up at the stairs before him. He could see Kellen and the ravagers climbing steadily onward. It wouldn’t be difficult to overtake them. Though, to defeat them was a different story.
“Forgive my asking,” Nate said, “but is the relic key at the top of the stairs? I assume it is, but I’d hate to go all that way and find out that it’s somewhere else.”
The Outlaw's Quest (Keeper of the Books, Book 2) Page 29