Malevolent

by David Risen

  Rider noticed a distinct lack of any life.

  No birds in the jagged, trees to either side of the broken road.

  No animals.

  A hushed silence fell over the thick woods surrounding them as if the mountain were waiting and listening – plotting something wicked.

  Rider followed her along silently, trying to concentrate on the music in his head rather than his aching thighs and straining lungs, when a terrifying sound from the mist stopped him in his tracks. The rope between him and Amelia snapped tight.

  He heard her stumble. He couldn’t see her now though the rope was only fifteen feet long.

  “What is it?” she said.

  Rider pressed his index finger over his lips.

  The cold wind ushered the sound again – barely audible over the hissing through the treetops.

  “Help me,” the voice cried.

  “Did you hear that?” Rider said.

  Amelia appeared through the mist looking about with fear in her eyes.

  “It’s a trap. Don’t leave the road or you’ll never find your way back.”

  Rider shook his head tightly. “What if it’s not?”

  She frowned and squinted through the fog. “We can’t pay any attention to that right now. We have to reach the city.”

  “You can’t,” a male voice said only a few feet off the path.

  Rider’s hand found the gun on his belt. He unsnapped the holster and pulled the Glock in one motion, aiming the pistol in the general direction of the voice.

  “Who’s there?” Amelia hissed.

  “I might ask you the same.”

  “Who’s talkin?” Rider repeated.

  “Settle down there pumpkin. I have a 20 alt 6 pointed right at your noodle. I’m going to come out of the fog slowly so you can see me.”

  The man appeared from the fog as if he were made of it.

  He was a six-foot-tall, lanky individual wearing a wool-lined bomber’s jacket. He carried himself like a soldier with his eyes trained through the sites of his rifle.

  He had white blond hair high on his pasty head, and thick glasses.

  Less than ten feet away from him, he dropped his weapon.

  “You’re not poachers or you would have brought something bigger than that pea shooter. So who are you and why are you here?”

  Rider pumped his head once to the right like a pitcher shaking off a bad sign from a catcher.

  “The lady asked you a question, and I’m in no mood to bullshit.”

  “I just saved your bacon, buddy. No one who ever walks straight up the road toward the city ever comes back.”

  “And how would you know?”

  The man flashes a wry grin. “You don’t believe me, fine! It doesn’t make a damn to me.”

  He motions toward the road.

  Rider snarled. “Why would you care?”

  He sank a little. His eyes said years of sorrow and regret.

  “I lost my girl up there. I think the government ran a weapons experiment around here. You go that way, and your face starts buzzing and then you start feeling sick. If you continue you get radiation poisoning.”

  Rider exchanged perplexed expressions with Amelia, and then he pointed his no-bullshit eyes once again at his host.

  “We’re here to find my sister,” he lied. “She went hiking, and got lost. We were able to track her here.”

  The man gave him a cynical grimace. “And what was her name?”

  Rider furled his brow. “Lauren Rider.”

  The man licked his generous lips. “My name is Gage Kinder. I work for the National Forestry Service. I’m an independent contractor, but when someone goes missing they usually give me a heads-up. I haven’t heard anything.”

  “That’s because they gave us a big middle finger. We need to get into that ghost town.”

  Gage turned his palms up. “The only way into that city without dying is through the old mine shafts. When my wife, Lilly went missing, I sent robots in. I guess I can show you how to get in from there.”

  “Yeah?” Rider said.

  He sighed. “I have a map back at my cabin, I can show you were the entrances are, but you’ll be on your own.”

  Rider’s eyes narrowed with a look of amusement. “And why would that bother me?”

  The man sighed and looked down at the ground.

  “Because the mines are dangerous.”

  Rider nodded and grinned humorlessly.

  “This is my baby sister.”

  Gage nodded. “Okay, then let’s go.”

  Rider squinted over the Glock and then glanced at Amelia. “Anything weird about him?” Rider said.

  She shook her head.

  Rider nodded and glared at Gage. “Don’t Park Rangers usually wear uniforms?”

  Gage gave him a sad smile. “I’m an independent contractor. I monitor the wildlife and track poachers.”

  Rider nodded again.

  “You got anything that proves that?”

  Gage gave him an innocent look, and draped the rifle over his shoulder with the leather strap.

  “I’m going to reach in my back pocket for my ID.”

  Rider nodded. “Do it real slow.”

  Gage dropped his right hand, reached in his back pocket and came out with a battered, brown trifold wallet and tossed it on the road before Amelia.

  Rider eyed it and then glanced at Amelia. “Go get it.”

  The broken road crunched beneath her feet as she edged up to it, squatted and picked it up from the ground, and then she opened it, removed two cards from within and squinted at them.

  “Well?” Rider said.

  “I don’t know what National Forestry Services Cards looks like, but it seems legitimate. It has a watermark and a hologram. It says his name is Gage Kinder and that he works for the University of Tennessee Wildlife services. His driver’s license agrees.”

  Rider glanced at Amelia.

  “That mean anything to you?”

  Rider furled his brow. “So, I’m going to put this gun down, but don’t do anything stupid.”

  Gage nodded.

  Rider dropped his pistol.

  “We should go,” Gage said. “You need to be done with everything you have to do before dark. You don’t want to be out after that.”

  An hour later, Rider sat at the table inside a wooden cabin that stood at the face of a deep gulley watching Gage like a cat stalking a mouse.

  Amelia sat at the table beside him uninterested – pawing through the maps of the mine shafts.

  Gage largely ignored Rider who rested his hand on the butt of his Glock. He built a fire in the woodstove, and set about the task of boiling water in a teapot.

  Once the water was on the metal plate on top of the stove, Gage reached into a footlocker resting at the footboard of his tiny bed, came up with a traffic-sign orange toboggan, and passed it to him.

  “Poachers come up here sometimes. Wear that, and you won’t end up being a head on someone’s mantle.”

  Rider smiled with his eyes. “So how long have you been up here?”

  Gage bunched his lips and nodded, and he stood in place for a moment staring as if lost in his own thoughts.

  “Approximately five years.”

  Rider’s eyes narrowed to slits. “So why do you not have more stuff here? I see bunk beds and a fridge. No photographs, no personal stuff.”

  Gage shrugged. “I’m not sentimental.”

  Rider nodded.

  Gage gave him a quizzical look. “What’s with all the pointed questions?”

  “Can’t be too careful. Bad boys like to hide out in places like this.”

  Gage shrugged. “Well, I’m not a bad guy. There are no bad guys really.”

  Rider gave him a screwed-up look.

  Gage deflated, something sad twinkled in his eyes. “There are no boogey men. The entire world is the design of a master, and none of it makes any sense to the likes of us. We see the rules written all around us, but all of them are writt
en in a language that we don’t understand by a being who’s intellect and wisdom dwarfs us all.”

  Rider tightened his lips. “You sound a lot like a real bad boy I ran into.”

  Gage shook his head. “No, I’m not a boogey man. Not really.”

  Rider leaned forward. “Not really?”

  Gage sighed. “When I was younger and much more foolish, I did some things that cut me off from my family and everyone that I cared about. No one liked me much, and I didn’t care for them either. But then you get older, and you begin to see things differently. You realize that those who swim upstream don’t live very long.”

  Rider shook his head. “So, this girl you talked about. Why do you not have any pictures of her here?”

  He shook his head. “Ever lost someone you care about? I had to get rid of it or it was going to drive me crazy.”

  Rider smirked. “Not me. When my daughter died, I kept everything that belonged to her exactly the way it was when she died.”

  Gage smiled. “I’m sorry to hear that. How long ago did that happen?”

  Rider cackled and shook his head. “We’re not talkin about me.”

  Gage looked down at the wooden floor. “I looked for Lilly for two years. I even went so far as to borrow robots from the university and guide them through the mine shafts. I’ll always love her, but you have to assume that something got her.”

  Rider laughed humorlessly. “Well, brother, from where I’m sittin love is usually just two in the bed trying to make three.”

  Gage looked crestfallen.

  “Then you are lost.”

  “And you’re a douche.”

  Gage sighed with frustration, and paced over to a Coleman cooler where he pulled a Ziploc bag of sandwich meat and bread. He sat it on a cutting board on the counter, and began assembling a sandwich. Then he glanced back over his shoulder at Rider.

  “I understand how you feel about your loss. When we’re all immature, we look around us at all that we have, and all of it looks ponderous and coincidental like the meandering ramblings of a crazy person.

  “What we hear in books is that ‘love conquers all.’

  “‘God never gives us more than we can handle.’

  “‘The truth will set you free.’

  “‘The divine right of all men and women is to live in a fair world.’

  “‘Good always triumphs over evil.’

  “‘What doesn’t kill you only makes you stronger.’

  “But then we compare it against the world we live in and we find that none of these things are true.

  “Love fails.

  “God routinely gives us more than we can handle.

  “The truth can leave you in the worst cage of all.

  “Life sucks and it’s not fair.

  “There is no good and evil.

  “What doesn’t kill you usually diminishes you to the point that you can’t function.”

  Rider sneered. “Get to the point.”

  “Everything is for multiple reasons. There’s any number of angles here. Why did I just so happen to be walking by when you were climbing to your death? How do you know that the death of your daughter didn’t set cosmic events in place that are of the utmost importance?”

  He turned to face Rider and held up his index finger. “The average person lives about seventy-five years. Who the hell, besides God, can possibly imagine how many things one person might change just by being?

  “I fuckin hate philosophy.”

  “That’s quite enough out of both of you,” Amelia said sitting up straight and refolding the note. “All of this crotch grabbing and posturing is making my head hurt. Let’s just discuss how we’re going to get in the city.”

  Gage nodded, and then like a good little waiter, he carried three wooden cutting boards with sandwiches upon them over to the table. He placed one before Rider, another before Amelia, and another in the empty slot on the other side of the table. Then he produced three coffee mugs and sat them before each cutting board.

  He removed the teapot from the wood stove, poured hot water in each of them, and then he pulled a jar of Sanka from the cabinet above the sink.

  “I only have Instant,” he told Rider, who was sill watching him like a hawk.”

  Rider eyed the mug and then gave Gage a look of suspicion.

  Gage’s eyebrows spiked over his glasses. “You’re going to have to take your hand off your pistol if you want to eat.”

  Rider said nothing and made no movement.

  Gage shrugged and sat before him and sucked the mayo off his thumb. Then he eyed Amelia.

  “Do either of you have a map?”

  Amelia reached down to her feet and took her charcoal backpack from where she placed it, propped against the wooden chair, sat it in her lap, unzipped it, pulled the tattered map from within, and passed it to Gage.

  He unfolded it and smoothed it out on the surface of the wooden table by his makeshift plate. Then he pointed his eyes over the top of his glasses at Amelia.

  “Where did you find this fossil?”

  Amelia rolled her eyes. “Ebay.”

  Gage eyed Amelia a moment longer, and then he reached inside his bomber jacket and removed a Cross pen, twisted the tip out and drew five asterisks on the map at different locations.

  He drew the number 1 by the asterisk closest to their location and looked up at Rider.

  “I’ve marked all the locations, because some of them may have caved in. Try this one first. It’s a short hike from here and it’s located near an old pond they used to call Rusty Lake.”

  Rider gave him a shrewd look. “What should we do if we get in trouble?”

  He shrugged. “I have flares. I would send you with a walkie but they don’t work up here. I have a satellite phone, but I need it for work.”

  Amelia shook her head. “We didn’t expect to have help anyway.”

  Gage licked his lips and looked at her.

  “You have to stay here with me in case something goes wrong.”

  Rider’s eyes bulged with terrible alarm. “No way. We don’t separate. That’s the deal.”

  Gage shook his head. “There’s no safety in numbers up here. If there are two of you you’ll both die. You’re not really so selfish that you would expose her to that kind of risk, are you?”

  Rider leaned forward and sneered. “If one of us is in an accident, our goose is cooked.”

  He nodded. “But I’m looking, and she’s tough-minded. You, on the other hand, are not only tough-minded, but you’re in great physical shape. You also know how to handle yourself.”

  Amelia touched Rider’s hand under the table.

  “You’re right about that, but there are things about me that you don’t know,” Amelia said.

  “Okay, fine,” Gage said holding up his hands, “but if something happens, cell phones, ham radio, and walkies don’t work up here. And I can’t go with you.”

  Rider’s eyes narrowed to slits. “Why the fuck is that?”

  Gage grinned. “I have my tracking the wildlife, and I have to stay here in case I have to bail your ass out.”

  Amelia shook her head. “He is making sense.”

  Rider gave Gage a humorless grin.

  “It ain’t happenin, motherfucker.”

  Gage sighed and sat back in his chair looking up to the wooden ceiling.

  Then he lowered his head and looked directly into Rider’s eyes.

  “If you want my help, you’ll do it my way.”

  “Who says I need your help?” Rider growled.

  Gage’s eyebrows spiked over the rims of his glasses.

  “You have any idea what you’re up against? Black bears, grizzlies, mountain lions, copper heads, rattlesnakes, real inhospitable terrain. . . .”

  “Yes, they were. They were here about three and a half hours before you, which reminds me.”

  He’s not lying, said Amelia in his head. And I can talk to you from a distance. When you find a way inside the city, I’ll joi
n you. Until then, it may be a good idea for me to stay here and watch for any sign of the sisters.

  Rider looked at her as if she betrayed him.

  I don’t like this motherfucker. Not only is he trying to separate us, but he knows way more than he’s tellin. This situation stinks.

  Amelia nodded and looked back at Gage.

  “You will leave here. If you ever return, your spirit will shatter like broken glass.”

  Gage laughed. “This is my house. If you don’t like it, you can leave.”

  Amelia looked at Rider, bunched her lips and shrugged.

  I still don’t believe him, Rider thought.

  I can see everything he’s thinking about in my head. And I can communicate with you wherever you are. If you run into a problem, I’ll be able to help.

  Rider glared at her.

  I’m a regular guy. You can kill things with your mind. All I have is a pistol.

  Amelia reached up and touched his forehead.

  Rider saw it all. The sisters wheeling a vault out into the road and opening it.

  Lauren discussing Rider and Amelia.

  Gage watching it all from a tree stand.

  Rider shook it off and snapped his holster back.

  “What was that?” Gage said.

  Amelia shrugged.

  Rider looked back at Gage and sighed. “I guess we’ll do it your way.”

  Gage nodded. “Then you don’t have any time to waste.”

  He stood and pulled a rifle from a gun cabinet behind him, checked the magazine to make sure it was loaded and passed it to him.

  “You’re gonna need something a little more powerful than that dart gun you’ve got on your belt. There’s coyotes, black Bears, grizzlies, and mountain lions on this mountain. If you see one, shoot first and ask questions later. Go to the places I’ve marked, and search for a mine opening.”

  A tough, forty-minute hike and two near death experiences later, Rider found the first possible mine entrance on the map.

  It was a flat clearing on the upper third of the mountain with a bowl carved in the middle full of stagnant water surrounded by trees except for the far end, where a sudden cliff fell at least 200 feet.

  If he weren’t so cold from the wet, near freezing temperatures – if his socks weren’t soaked through from the five deep mud holes he planted himself in – Rider might have thought the area an interesting spot to rest.