Sacrifice

by Michael Arches

  I ignored my agony and pulled with both arms on the sides of the rocky gap, lifting my body up and out. The snow had stopped, but damn, it was colder than ever and windy. My body armor and helmet didn’t help much. Whine later!

  My walkie-talkie in my pocket erupted with conversation. Instead of listening, I looked around for Wilcox. Her motionless body was splayed across the snowy mountainside a dozen feet away. Her back had bent back on itself until her head almost touched her butt. Her devil worshiping days were over.

  I pulled out my walkie-talkie and hit the call button with a gloved finger.

  “This is Hank. I’m at the eastern end of the drift on the Two Hundred Level. Water seems to have eroded an opening into the mine. Wilcox got out this way then tried to blow me up. Sandy’s near here, unconscious. Diabetic coma, I think. She needs urgent medical care.”

  Two pairs of snowshoes lay nearby. They told me Wilcox and Kirkpatrick hadn’t been planning to walk back down one of the zigzag roads. I glanced up to the north. We were almost at the top of the mountain, and the Buttermilk Ski Area was just on the other side of the ridge. If they’d planned ahead for this escape, they could have hidden ski gear up at the resort and skied down the empty slopes to escape. We never would’ve figured out their plan in time. This was why they hadn’t just run at the end. If I’d followed them out of the mine, I would’ve warned everyone in time to catch them in the resort.

  Linda broke through my thoughts. “Hank, we’re already on the way to you. We heard two earlier explosions. Then a third, much louder.”

  “I’ll tell you all about it later. Hurry. I hope we still have a chance to save Sandy. Trace didn’t make it. I’ll fire shots off every few minutes to guide you to my position. I have to get back inside before I freeze to death.”

  That led to many more questions and comments, but I wasn’t dressed for a subzero gabfest. Getting back in without falling was a bitch, but I avoided any serious bruises. The change in temperature was dramatic and welcome.

  Chapter 23

  I found that if I stood very close to the opening, standing on the crate, the walkie-talkie worked, but the cold was much worse. Couldn’t stay there for long. Every so often, though, I approached the opening, stuck my pistol out, and fired a round.

  Linda and Manny reached me first. Then Skip came a moment later and grinned at me.

  After looking me up and down for a second, Linda said, “How’d you get knocked around so much?”

  “Tell you on our way to Sandy.” I pulled out my pen light to lead them. Skip stayed at the opening to direct the EMTs our way when they showed up.

  While we hurried along the drift, I briefly described how I’d gotten shot and almost blown up.

  When I finished, Manny said, “I’m devastated about Trace.”

  I patted him on the back as we strode toward Sandy. “I’m so sorry, too. It happened so quickly. An explosion threw off a random rock that bashed in his helmet. Could just as easily have been me.”

  Manny said, “This’s a rough way to make a living. God, I hate to think about the pain I’m going to cause his wife and kids when I tell them.”

  That choked me up. Couldn’t speak or breathe for a moment. So much suffering for no good reason.

  Before we reached Sandy, Boomer bayed. Linda ignored him and dropped to her knees in front of the unconscious woman. “Oh, God, she’s so pale. I hope we got here in time.”

  I did, too, and kept my doubts to myself. Didn’t want anything to distract Linda when seconds might count.

  I held my flashlight on her as she pulled a black leather case about the size of a paperback out of her backpack. Like an expert, she loaded a syringe with glucagon and pulled back one sleeve of the parka to inject Sandy.

  “If anything will save her,” Linda said, “it’s this stuff. But she might be dehydrated, too. While we wait for the EMTs, I’ll get an IV drip going.”

  Once she hooked up the IV, I stood to hold the bag over Sandy.

  She didn’t move but seemed to breathe easier. I kept hoping she’d open her eyes or speak, but it didn’t happen.

  Manny said, “I’d like to recover Trace’s body tonight, if possible. I’m going to summon a half-dozen of his squad partners. I know you’ve had a helluva day, but would you mind showing us where he is?”

  Recovering our fallen was an essential part of the Marine code. “Sure, we definitely don’t want to wait.”

  He left to make arrangements. I stood in the gloom holding the IV bag and petted Boomer.

  “Are any of the cult members still on the loose?” I asked.

  “Don’t think so. Randy said earlier that they grabbed four more who’d come for the ceremony. I think they’re all accounted for.”

  A couple of big EMTs with huge backpacks and a litter arrived. They took over caring for our patient.

  Linda, Boomer, and I sat against a wall. My mind seemed ready to shut down, but so many loose ends to tie off still. Couldn’t leave yet.

  “Tell me more about Wilcox throwing that stick of dynamite,” Linda said.

  I did, and when I got to the point where I almost hit the adit wall with it, I started laughing so hard I couldn’t breathe. God, you’re a wreck.

  Linda laughed, too, but not nearly as hard. Then, she said, “You going to tell Willow how you almost blew yourself up?”

  That was an easy question. “Have to, or when someone else blabs, she’ll never trust me again.”

  We watched the EMTs work on Sandy. They took her out of my parka, placed her in a mummy-style sleeping bag then strapped it onto their litter. She looked like an enormous silkworm in her green cocoon.

  I got my oversized black parka back, and I was glad to have it. The mine was bitter cold close to the opening to the outside.

  We walked back to the exit. It took five people to turn Sandy sideways and lift her out into the frozen starry night. A snowmobile with a large sled waited to carry her down the mountain.

  -o-o-o-

  I was beat, but hot coffee and two raspberry jelly donuts perked me up. I talked to Randy on the radio about the dogs, and he promised to work out a way to get the mutts out of the mine safely.

  Manny eventually came back with six Glenwood cops, two Aspen cops, and two litters. One was for Trace, and the other for the bastard who killed him. Manny also brought an assistant coroner and my office’s chief crime scene tech, Keith Sato. He was a wiry, white-haired man who knew forensics like few others on the Western Slope.

  He smiled at me. “Tough day, eh? I figured since you’re showing Manny what happened down below, I’d tag along with one of my crew and collect the evidence down there now. That way, we don’t have to worry about someone sneaking in later and compromising our crime scene.”

  I checked my phone. It was already after eight p.m. The time had flown while I’d been traipsing around in the bowels of the earth. “Works for me.”

  Skip agreed to keep an eye on Boomer, and I led the group to the cave in.

  Long before we reached the cane corso, I could hear his low rumbling woofs. It sounded like thunder.

  Manny asked, “What the hell is that?”

  “It’s supposed to be a demonic hellhound,” I said. “Giant motherfucker.”

  When we approached, I pointed out the glowing red dots in the distance and described confronting him.

  Manny shuddered. “Wouldn’t want to meet him alone at night.”

  The dog stopped barking when we got closer and wagged its tail. I unhooked his leash from the wooden spool he was attached to and brought him along.

  When we reached Trace on the Four Hundred Level, the coroner first examined Trace then Hinckley, who’d killed my fellow Jarhead. I stood out of the way and said a prayer for my friend’s passage to Heaven. He’d make a fantastic guardian angel.

  Soon, the two bodies were ready to be moved, the dog and I followed the cops carrying the dead. Both of the Aspen cops stayed behind to protect
our crime techs as they processed the area. Unfortunately, we had no guarantee that some other asshole wasn’t lurking in this dark and depressing tomb.

  -o-o-o-

  I made it up to the exit under my own power but by the time we finally arrived, I was fading fast. Stood out of the way while Manny and the other cops maneuvered the two litters to take the strapped-in bodies up and out onto the frozen mountainside.

  While we’d been below, more lab techs had come to process the drift area, searching for hard evidence to back up my ridiculous story. In addition, Randy had sent up four animal control officers to grab the two dogs.

  “I’m really worried,” I said to their chief deputy. “Both mutts are going to freak out when you try to push them up and through that narrow slot.”

  “No shit,” he said. “We’re going to have to knock them out. I brought along two cooked hamburgers dosed with a sedative. Then, we’ll strap them to stretchers and pull them out the same way Manny’s cops just did.”

  In no time, the dogs were gone. I tried to follow Boomer and climb out, but my left arm wouldn’t move anymore. With a lot of joking around, the guys pulled and pushed me up and out of hell. My shoulder and ribs hurt even more than when I’d climbed out earlier. I’m getting too old for this shit.

  A steady stream of snowmobiles came and went on the zigzag road. I rode behind the driver of the snowmobile that hauled Boomer down the mountain. Randy had quite the operation going in the cabin below. Cops and various experts swarmed all over.

  Couple of guys carried Boomer inside the cabin, and I followed. Randy noticed me and waved me over to where he was sitting at an old table in front of a hot wood-burning stove. Damn, that felt great.

  “About time you got here. You know the drill. Give me your weapon and tell me what the hell has happened since I last saw you.”

  Actually, a lot had happened, and it took me a good twenty minutes to hit the high points. In the middle of my spiel, Boomer woke up and came over to check me. We’d both lived through one hell of a day.

  When I mentioned the last explosion, the one that sent a rock my way, he held up his hand to stop me. With a walkie-talkie, he asked an EMT to join us.

  I continued my summary while the female med tech removed my parka, the top half of my body armor, and my uniform’s shirt. I sat there in a bra, not feeling self-conscious because everyone was busy with important work. Randy turned his head and pretended nothing weird was going on.

  The EMT poked and prodded at a spot on my shoulder that was incredibly sore. A couple of times, I had to stop my summary to grit my teeth.

  Then, she said the usual. “You’ve got to go to the ER to get that checked. Feels like a broken clavicle.”

  “Collarbone?” I asked.

  “Yeah,” she said. “Happens all the time.”

  I hated hospitals, particularly when I was the patient. Randy knew that, and before I could bitch, he said, “No choice. Gotta go. You’re on admin leave anyway. The ambulance will take you and Boomer at the same time.”

  I started to argue about being bossed around, but he put up his hand. “For once in your life, Hank, just do what I say, okay?”

  I rolled my eyes but followed the EMT out to her ambulance. The ride out was slow because we’d gotten at least eight inches of snow. Each of the many bumps made my body ache.

  -o-o-o-

  At the ER, Dr. Dan rubbed his hands together with glee. “About time you got here. Been waiting around for two hours since I heard you got banged up. Tell me where it hurts.”

  The short answer was, all over. The EMT waved goodbye and headed out again, probably back to the mine. The surgeon took me to an exam room and checked all my wounds, including the wrapped ribs. More poking and prodding.

  Willow showed up while I was waiting for an x-ray. She had lots of questions for the doctor. I guess, she didn’t trust me to give her the full story. I was too tired to worry about it.

  After the x-ray confirmed the earlier diagnosis, Dr. Dan wrapped my arm and gave me a half-dozen oxy pills. Only enough for a few days.

  “How’s Sandy?” I asked as we were about to leave.

  He smiled at me. “You saved her life. That has to be a good feeling. She’s sedated, and her blood-sugar level is safe again. Sleeping with a mild sedative. Hasn’t come around yet. Check in her mom in the morning, but it may be a full day before Sandy recovers consciousness, if she ever does. I fear she might’ve slipped past the point of no return.”

  I said a silent prayer for her recovery.

  Willow drove me and Boomer home in her new Porsche SUV. Her 911 was terrible in the snow, so she got a Cayenne turbo hybrid. I’d tried to talk her into a Jeep, much cheaper and perfect for winter driving, but no go. Not stylish enough, apparently.

  Chapter 24

  A good night’s sleep made a world of difference. The ribs felt better, and as long as I kept my arm wrapped to my chest, the clavicle just ached.

  While we were eating breakfast, Willow hit me with the question I’d been expecting for over a week.

  “You’ll only quit when someone hits a vital organ and puts you in a coffin, right?”

  Couldn’t deny it. “It’s my calling. To serve and protect. It sounds corny, but I love helping innocent victims and putting bad guys in jail.”

  “Or in the ground,” she said. “How many have you killed?”

  “Not sure,” which was the truth, “and I don’t want you adding them up for me. Every one was a legitimate shooting.” Or dynamiting.

  I braced myself for the bad news. She’d already worried enough for a lifetime.

  “If you weren’t so entertaining when you’re not chasing criminals, I’d have to ask you to leave. Plus, I love Boomer, despite his many bad habits. Actually, you both have too many faults I’m forced to overlook. But I can’t bear the thought of living without you.”

  I fought a grin and tossed a piece of bacon at the mutt. “Did you hear that, buddy? We’ve charmed our way into her heart. We get to stay until we really piss her off.”

  She leaned over the small table in the breakfast nook and kissed me. “Something like that, but different.”

  Relief flooded through me, but I tried to appear nonchalant. “Are your parents still planning to come on Saturday to meet the barbarian?”

  She nodded. “I’ve warned them that you’re rough on the edges. In fact, you’re rough all over. They love the fact that you carry a gun at all times so you can protect me.”

  I made a mental note to play up the tough gal part of my personality for my potential in-laws.

  -o-o-o-

  I’d almost finished loading the dishwasher—which was lots harder with only one arm—when Randy called.

  “How’re you doing?” he asked.

  “I’ve been better, and I’ve been worse, much worse,” I said. “Any loose ends on rounding up the cult members?”

  “Nope,” he said. “According to that bastard Leo, we’ve arrested, shot, or blown them all up. Pitkin County is safe again, just in time for Christmas.”

  “Better late than never.”

  “Amen,” he said. “Other than checking on you, I’m calling with three things. First, the legal eagles want to make sure we have all the evidence we need before we formally crucify the four assholes I arrested last night. Second, they want to talk about a deal for Leo. And last but not least, the DA has a press conference scheduled for one p.m. If you have the time, we’d love your views on all the above. Meeting at ten.”

  I’d taken some meds so couldn’t drive. To Willow I asked, “Would you be willing to run me into town later for a meeting at the office?”

  “Bien sûr, madame. I have to find more for presents for your relatives and mine.”

  I hadn’t given much thought to Christmas yet. To Randy, I said, “I’ll be there at ten. At the press conference, you speak for the office. I’ll be there to answer any unusual questions you can’t, but you’re the actin
g sheriff.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  -o-o-o-

  While waiting for the meeting, I called Phyllis Pollock to check on her daughter. “How’s she doing?”

  With a hitch in her voice she said, “No change from last night. Dr. Longfellow says it’s too soon to expect anything, but I can’t keep myself from worrying. And listen, before anything else, I want to thank you for risking your life for her and helping her get out of that hellhole. I know it was awful with the cave in and everything.”

  “My pleasure. Sandy and I had a chance to chat before her condition worsened. She’s a wonderful person, but I’m surprised you’ve heard details about last night already.”

  “It’s all over the news,” Phyllis said. “Angelina Esteban had a special half-hour show this morning on Denver’s Channel 5. And Aspen Public Radio has been updating nonstop.”

  With so many cops involved in the raid yesterday, I shouldn’t have been surprised that somebody had blabbed. Maybe lots of them.

  Before signing off, I asked Phyllis to call me as soon as Sandy’s condition changed. My stomach turned queasy as I thought about how long she’d been unconscious. What if she never wakes up?

  -o-o-o-

  Right at ten, Willow dropped me off at the district attorney’s Aspen office, which was next to mine. This case was a big deal for Malcolm Younger. It’d been quite a while since local law enforcement had arrested four people on multiple-murder charges. In their conference room, I also met Sarah, Randy, and Manny.

  “Glad you could make it,” Younger said. “You look surprisingly good for someone who’s been shot three times and blown up just as often.”

  I wasn’t sure whether that was a compliment or an insult. He’d always been standoffish, one of the local movers and shakers who’d favored Randy in the election. I glanced at Sarah to get her view, and she slightly rolled her eyes.

  “I’m hanging in there,” I said, “but I am jacked up on the hard stuff. Hope to be able to keep up with the conversation.”