Edge of Darkness

by Barker, Freya

  “Hanging in, Son?”

  I nod at him. I figure he can fill in the ‘barely’ on his own.

  “Bones. Look at the pictures,” Luna says, handing them over to her husband.

  “Always thought it was strange he wasn’t there during that face-off with Chains last year. Those two always got into shit together.”

  “What does any of this have to do with Lissie?” I snap impatiently.

  “What if whoever killed those two in Telluride and shot Lissie did it because of something in this box?” Luna suggests. I immediately grab another handful of pictures and start flipping through them. Ouray does the same.

  “What the fuck?” he says, and my eyes are drawn to the picture in his hand. It’s a campground or a tent camp or something.

  “What is it?”

  “See that rim in the background?”

  I lean in a little. “Is that Smelter Mountain?”

  “Sure is,” Ouray confirms. “This shot could’ve been taken from Wildcat Canyon.”

  Luna snags the picture from his hand. “The training camp?”

  “Would appear so,” Ouray says, putting the next picture down on the counter, tapping it with his finger. “And there’s the reason someone is shitting their pants.”

  The picture shows a handful of young kids posing in front of the tents, with rifles slung over their much-too-small shoulders. Proudly standing behind them, like a pair of fucking misguided parents is Chains and Bones.

  “Fuckin’ knew it,” Ouray grinds between his teeth.

  Just then Luna’s phone rings.

  “Roosberg. You’re kidding me? Yes. On my way.”

  “What’s going on?”

  She turns to me. “Tracker. Lissie has a tracker on her. Jasper has a bead on her.”

  CHAPTER 30

  Lissie

  I GASP WHEN liquid splashes my face.

  “Open your eyes, bitch. I waited long enough. I need you awake for this.”

  I try to move but a hot pain shoots through my injured shoulder, and I realize my arms are tied behind me. We’re outside somewhere; I can smell the damp earth and feel the cool night air on my skin. I open my eyes a crack. Trees, lots of them, and the large man holding a bottle of water and sporting a nice cut on his face from the wire I hit him with. Good.

  What’s not so good is the look on his face. I’d much rather have seen anger or rage than the excitement in his eyes.

  I don’t know how long I’ve been out, but in that time he managed to get me away from the car, into the woods, and tie me up.

  “Who are you?” I croak, hoping if I can keep him talking, I can distract him from whatever it is he’s thinking of doing to me.

  “You’re just as nosy as that other bitch was.”

  “Who? Dani?” Saying her name, I suddenly remember where I’ve seen him before. That Vegas picture, he was in that group.

  “Dani, Tammy, every fucking bitch I know. Always asking questions, sticking their noses where they don’t belong. Told Chains she’d bring trouble, but he liked stickin’ it to her. Kept her around longer than I woulda. Then the idiot got hisself killed, and left me to take care’a that bitch when she started diggin’, lookin’ for her kid.” He scrapes his throat and hoarks up a gob of phlegm he lets fly just inches from where I’m sitting. “Then fucking Tammy answered the goddamn club phone, and I knew that was gonna end up being trouble too. Didn’t take long either. Took care’a her and I shoulda put a second bullet in you too.”

  While he’s been talking, I’ve been testing the zip tie around my wrists. It’s snug, but not so tight I can’t move at all. I steel myself against the pain in my shoulder and rotate my wrists to try and loosen the tie.

  “Was gonna bide my time and finish the job quickly, but then I saw you with that bastard, Yuma.” He laughs, working up another ball of spit. “Stroke’a luck, since him’n me have some unfinished business you’re gonna help me settle first.”

  He doesn’t have to spell it out; I know exactly how he plans to do that when he starts unbuckling his belt.

  “What unfinished business? What did he do to you?” I hurry to say, trying to keep him talking while I work my binds. It feels like I have a little more room and I need my hands free if I have any hope of fighting him off.

  “Sonofabitch as good as killed Chains. Came gunnin’ for him last year, got hisself shot in the process, but his brothers were right behind, taking Chains out. We had plans, him’n me, big plans. Chains was gonna put the Moab Reds on the map…”

  I barely hear what he’s saying, but I notice his hands have stilled while he’s talking. I use the reprieve to try and pull my right hand free. I grind my teeth against the pain of skin tearing and force on.

  “…Figure it’ll be good payback he finds his bitch was taken in every hole before she was killed right here on Arrow’s Edge land.”

  Knowing what’s about to happen is bone-chilling, hearing it spelled out in so many words sends me into sheer panic.

  When his hands get busy again I push off with my legs and scramble backward, while yanking as hard as I can on the tie. It could be the blood making my hand slippery or my thumb pulling out of the socket, but with a scream I finally pull my hand free.

  He clearly didn’t expect that, and for a moment just stands there with his jeans halfway down his legs, staring at me with his mouth open.

  The brief reprieve is all I need to get my wits about me. Ignoring the pain, I push myself up on my feet, turn and force my legs to move. Behind me I hear him curse, but I don’t stop moving, blundering through the underbrush as I try to create some distance between us.

  When I hear a shot behind me as wood splinters from a tree trunk barely a foot away, I know I’m in deep trouble.

  Yuma

  “Can’t have you running off half-assed.”

  Ramirez steps in front of me.

  “You’re out of your fucking mind if you think I’m waiting around here. You’re wasting time, move the fuck out of the way.”

  “Don’t know if that—”

  “Outta my fucking way!” I bellow, shoving Ramirez aside.

  “Hustle,” Ouray says, already waiting with Nosh by his truck.

  Luna just tore out of here after sharing Greene had traced the signal to Arrow’s Edge land, just north of the shooting range, when Ramirez tried to hold me back. She’s at best a couple of minutes ahead of us.

  On the drive up the mountain, Ouray has the clubhouse on speakerphone. He sends Honon and Tse to grab weapons from the office, head for the gun range, and then orders Wapi to arm himself and hole up inside the boys’ dorm until further notice.

  Nosh taps me on the shoulder.

  “Tell Ouray to drive up to the campground and take the dirt road from there to the back of the property. No way anyone would get past the guys in the clubhouse.”

  “Nosh says take the back way from the campground.”

  “Yeah, thought about that.” He looks at me. “You armed?”

  “Nope.”

  “Check the glovebox.”

  I pull out the handgun and make sure it’s loaded. I focus on the weight of it in my hand. Despite the fact it’s been quite a few years, it feels comfortable against my palm.

  Ouray’s phone rings.

  “Hey, Sprite.”

  “Ramirez called. No guns, Ouray, we need him alive.”

  “Babe,” he mumbles, but his meaning is clear.

  “Jesus. At least tell me Yuma isn’t armed.”

  “Sorry, Luna,” I answer for him.

  “Fucking hell. You lose your cool and shoot, Yuma, I swear—”

  “He won’t,” Ouray snaps. “Unless absolutely necessary. I trust him.”

  I file that vote of confidence somewhere deep so when I’m not sick with fear over Lissie, I can take it out and let that trust settle deep into my bones.

  “Good enough. No offense, Yuma.”

  “None taken.”

  “Gotta go, I’m pulling into the compound
and Gomez is already here.”

  “Be careful,” Ouray tells his wife, but she already hung up.

  We’re just coming up on the turnoff to the clubhouse but keep going straight instead. A few miles up the road, we hit the entrance to the campground, which—aside from a couple of RVs—is pretty much abandoned this late in the season. Ouray drives to the southeast corner where an old logging trail runs all the way into our northern property line.

  Nosh taps me on the shoulder again.

  “Stop before the next bend. There’s a clearing beyond, too exposed.”

  I relay the info to Ouray, who pulls the truck to the side where Nosh indicates.

  “Rifle in the lockbox,” he signs to my father.

  Even at his age, Nosh is the best marksman the club has. He fetches it from the back and closes the gate carefully, while we do the same with the doors. Until we know the situation we’re getting into, we’ll move quietly.

  Ouray leads and stops us when the trees open up. A black sedan is parked near the far edge of the clearing, and we wait to make sure there’s no movement.

  “Stick to the tree line,” Ouray orders.

  We’re about halfway to the vehicle when a shot rings out.

  Ouray immediately stops us with his hand up, but my entire being wants to run as fast as I can in the direction it came from. Uphill from us.

  “Wait,” he warns me, grabbing on to hold me in place.

  I’m about to shake him off when we hear a second shot, followed by a loud yelp. That’s when I take off running, hearing Ouray’s footsteps close behind me. The blood is roaring in my ears, drowning out the noise I’m sure I’m making as I barrel through the trees.

  How much noise becomes clear moments later, when I come upon a scene that has my heart lodge in my throat.

  Lissie is on her knees, facing me, behind her Bones is holding her up by her hair with one hand while the other presses a gun to her head. Her face looks like it’s been through a meat grinder but her eyes are alive and sharp.

  “Looky here. Even better,” that piece of filth spouts with a grin. “Now you can watch your bitch die.”

  “You’re the one gonna be dead before you have a chance pull the trigger.”

  “Nobody’s gonna die today,” Gomez’s voice sounds behind us, as he and Luna catch up.

  Lissie’s eyes are holding mine. I know she’s trying to tell me something when she looks down and up again, bulging her eyes, before glancing down again. That’s when I notice her hand forming letters.

  “D…I…V…E…R…S…I…”

  She doesn’t need to finish; I know what she’s telling me. I give her the faintest of nods, and watch as her fingers count backward from three.

  “Hey!” I yell, diving to my left. Bones is briefly startled and in that moment, Lissie throws herself forward and out of his reach.

  Then I hear a shot ring.

  Lissie

  I spot Nosh while the guy is taunting Yuma and momentarily distracted by the arrival of the FBI.

  He is maybe fifty yards behind his son, mostly hidden by a tree as he catches my eye and gestures down to the ground.

  With the barrel against the side of my head, I’m afraid to make any moves. I focus my attention on Yuma and silently urge him to look at my hand, while I spell out what I need with the ASL alphabet I’ve only recently learned.

  The moment he yells and makes a sudden move, I can feel the cold steel move from my head and I immediately throw myself down.

  I can feel the reverberation of the shot in my bones and am afraid to move. Even when voices start yelling out and I feel bodies move past me, I stay with my face pressed in the dirt. Then I’m carefully rolled on my back and Yuma leans in my face.

  “Lissie, baby, say something, are you okay?” His hands roam over my body while I try to catch the breath I’d been holding. When he inadvertently touches my shoulder I cry out. “Fuck,” he hisses. “I don’t know where I can touch you.”

  “I’m okay,” I manage.

  “You’re bleeding.”

  “Help me up.” With his arm around me on my good side, he helps me into a sitting position. “All the way up,” I insist, and with infinite care he helps me get my feet under me. I look over my shoulder, but all I can see are the backs of the FBI agents blocking my view of the man. “Is he dead?”

  “No. Missing a hand, though.”

  “Didn’t know your father was such a good shot.”

  “Steadiest hand in the county,” Yuma says with some measure of pride. “Fuck, Beautiful, I’ve never been so scared in my life.” He presses his lips against my forehead before he asks, “Can you walk?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then let’s get down to the clubhouse and call you an ambulance.” I start to protest, but he beats me to it. “No arguments, baby. I’m never leaving your side again.”

  With his arm to stabilize me, we start walking away from the scene. I don’t turn around once.

  Yuma ignores the calls for us to wait and keeps us moving. When we pass Nosh, he leans in to kiss my cheek.

  “Smart cookie,” he rumbles appreciatively when he falls into step beside me.

  “Thank you,” I mouth at him, which earns me a wink.

  CHAPTER 31

  Yuma

  “TAKE A BREATH, brother.”

  I tear my eyes from Lissie, where they’ve been glued as she’s being looked over by Sumo and Blue, two of the fire department’s EMTs. The stubborn woman refused to be taken to the hospital, insisting whatever injuries she sustained are superficial; only scrapes and bruises.

  Tse is leaning on the opposite side of the bar.

  “Your girl’s all right. Tough as shit. A little banged up, but that’ll heal.”

  “You a fucking doctor now? She admitted she got knocked out, man.” I still think she needs to be looked at properly.

  “And she’s being looked at. She’s stubborn but not stupid. I’m sure if those guys have serious concerns, she’ll go.”

  We lucked out with the full moon tonight; otherwise, this whole thing could’ve gone down an entirely different way. I can’t stop thinking about what might’ve happened. That was a risky move by my father, shooting at that distance by not much more than the light of Luna’s flashlight shining on his target.

  My eyes find him sitting at the far end of the bar with Ouray and Ramirez, sipping a beer. He’s staring hard at the EMTs fussing over Lissie, when he suddenly turns my way.

  “Should’ve killed the bastard,” he signs.

  He’s talking about Bones who’s on his way to Mercy in the second ambulance, his right hand unrecognizable, with Gomez and Luna following right behind.

  “Thanks, Pop,” I mumble. The old man reads my lips and nods. I turn my attention back to Lissie, muttering under my breath, “Fucking need a drink.”

  “I’ll get you a coffee,” Tse, who hears, quickly offers.

  Not long after Blue and her partner start packing away their supplies, I approach them.

  “Everything all right?”

  “Bullet didn’t do more than graze her this time, but she’s still coming to the hospital,” Blue, who also happens to be Tony Ramirez’s woman, says firmly.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Blue raises an eyebrow at Lissie, who is glaring at her. “I’ll let her tell you.”

  “Babe?”

  Her face is scraped and swollen, already starting to bruise when she finally turns to me.

  “They say my thumb has to be set at the hospital.”

  “Your thumb?”

  She holds up her right hand, the thumb standing out at an odd angle. I hadn’t noticed it; I’d been too focused on the blood dripping down her hands from her torn wrists. I ignore the mutinous look on her face and lean down, kissing her angry mouth.

  “Let’s go and get this over with.”

  I help her out of her chair, and with a quick explanation to the guys, guide her outside, and climb into the back of the ambulance with her.
/>
  “Call when you guys are ready,” Ouray says, having followed us out of the clubhouse.

  “Thanks, brother. Tell Nosh to get some rest.”

  He gives me a two-fingered salute and raps his knuckles on the back of the ambulance before closing the door.

  “Yuma?” The fear Lissie had been hiding behind her bravado is suddenly starkly visible in her eyes.

  “Yeah?” I reach out and gently stroke a strand of hair from her forehead.

  “I don’t want any drugs. Please? They were pushing last time.”

  Blue looks up and jumps in. “Won’t be much fun without, Lissie. It’s painful.”

  “She’s an alcoholic,” I explain and add, “We both are.”

  “Gotcha. I’ll make sure they know.”

  _______________

  In the end, we only spend a couple of hours in the hospital.

  Lissie’s right hand is in a splint she’ll have to keep on for six to eight weeks. That news didn’t make her happy. She’d busted a couple of stitches in the wound on her shoulder, but didn’t need any new ones placed. Still, she’ll be limited in what she can do, which means I’ll be sticking around to do them for her. Not exactly a hardship.

  “Where to?” Ouray asks, once we settle into his Traverse.

  “Clubhouse okay with you?” I ask Lissie, leaning between the front seats. I notice she has her head turned to the window, but I catch the strain on her face in the side mirror. “Lissie?”

  “Sure,” she mumbles distractedly.

  I have a feeling the adrenaline, which kept her going, is fading now and so is her resilience.

  “Clubhouse it is,” Ouray says. “Take the room behind the office. Lisa cleaned the sheets earlier this week.”

  Nosh and Tse must’ve gone to bed, because Brick is the only one still up when we get there.

  “Almost five in the morning, brother,” Ouray points out to him. “What the fuck are you doing up?”

  “Just got back from checkin’ in on Lisa and the kids. How are you doin’, doll?” he asks Lissie, turning to her.

  “Tired.”

  “That’s my cue,” I announce, and with my arm around her waist, lead her to the back.

  “Wow,” she says when I open the door to Ouray’s old bedroom, now usually reserved for guests. I’m not about to share there’ve been times I’ve used this room, because none of that matters anymore.