by BJ Bourg
Ahead of us, the terrain was rugged and it rose precipitously. Jimmy, who was still carrying the AK-47, had disappeared around an outcropping of rocks to the right. Duke had veered left and was heading straight for a stucco-style house that stood amongst a network of fences and gates that secured a dozen or so horses and cows. I went after Jimmy.
My thighs screamed as I advanced up the steep slope and approached the rocks behind which Jimmy had disappeared. I stopped when I reached the outcropping of rocks. I wasn’t sure if it was a subconscious tactical move or if my legs had simply quit working for a second, but they certainly burned from the exertion of the steep climb. Taking a haggard breath, I did a quick-peek around a large rock. Jimmy was still running. He twisted his head around to check my progress, and I could see he was trying to fit another large magazine into the rifle.
Knowing I had to reach him before he reloaded that weapon, I burst out from behind the rock and sprinted for all I was worth.
“Put down the rifle or I’ll shoot!” I hollered. As though the exertion wasn’t bad enough, the yelling had just about done me in. I found myself fighting for air and my chest burned. I began to wonder what was wrong with me. I’d never felt this way before. Was I having a heart attack? I’d never been winded so quickly and my breathing had never seemed so shallow.
I was closing in on Jimmy and he could feel it. He stopped trying to load the rifle and, instead, turned to face me, swinging it like a club. I was still twenty feet away, but he began swinging it back and forth, as though it would create a force field behind which he could hide. He was screaming like a madman, his eyes wide and his teeth bared. His long, receding hair was disheveled and gave him the appearance of a wild animal that was cornered.
I slowed to measure my approach and to try and catch some air. I knew I had to fight, and I wanted to do so with an adequate supply of oxygen. He had just taken a swing to his left. I waited until he’d reached the very end of the swing. That was when I made my move.
I closed the distance between us in a flash. He yelped as he realized I was upon him and he was helpless. Since both of his hands were attached to the rifle, he couldn’t block the punch I leveled at his chin. He was a heavy man and he went down hard. To my surprise, I went down with him. My best guess was that I had expected him to stay upright and had overextended my reach, which caused my right foot to slip out from under me on the smooth rock. My momentum did the rest.
I hit the ground on a forward motion, landing on top of Jimmy, but sliding forward. He helped me along be giving me a shove, and I suddenly found myself suspended in the air. I began to wonder at the strength of this man and how on earth had it been possible for him to fling me into space, but I then realized I had fallen over the cliff. At that same moment, I heard gunshots in the distance.
Confused, I clawed at the empty space around me like a wild cat fighting for its life. I saw the sky in one moment and then golden rocks in the next. Somehow—in what was either a fortuitous event or divine intervention—my right hand brushed against something round and rough. I clamped down as hard as I could. The rest of my body continued falling, but pulled up short when my arm reached its full extension. Thankfully, my grip held.
My shoulder ached, for it had been wrenched violently when my arm went taut, but I was relieved to be alive. I did what one should never do in such a position—I looked down. My head spun and I instantly became nauseous. Seventy feet below me was a dry river bed filled with large boulders and hard-packed earth. If I fell, there would be no surviving the drop.
I slowly lifted my head—still trying to catch my breath—and saw Jimmy standing on the ledge above me, a wicked grin playing across his lips. I also saw a small juniper tree growing out of the side of the rock. I had grabbed one of the branches. While it had felt sturdy when it broke my fall, it sure didn’t look like much.
“What’s the matter, boy?” Jimmy’s tone was mocking. He was calmly reloading the AK-47 as he spoke. “Can’t breathe? You see, the air’s thinner up here in the mountains. You’ve got to learn to do more with less. When I was down in Louisiana, I felt like I was inhaling pure oxygen. It made me high. It was like a natural drug.”
“Why’d you do it?” I asked, trying to stall for time and search for a way out of this dire situation.
“For the money, of course.”
“No, why kill the boy?”
“Oh, that.” The magazine locked into place and Jimmy allowed the rifle to dangle in his right hand, the muzzle aiming in my direction. “We were almost home free when that little shit came snooping around. I knew if we left him alone he would direct the authorities to Bud, and I knew if we killed him the authorities would be crawling all over that area and probably find the grave. It was a no-win situation, and you have to make the best of what you’ve got, you know? We hung around town for an extra day to see if it had caused a stir, but there are too many hotheads in your little shit town. Sooner or later, I would’ve dropped one of those Cajun assholes and we would’ve gotten picked up. That would not have been good for our plans.”
I was still breathless and my right hand was aching. I couldn’t hold on forever. I was eventually going to slip. Moving my feet very slowly—careful not to put undue strain on my grip—I felt for a foothold in the rock.
“Did you kill Bud?” I asked, still exploring the wall with my foot.
“It doesn’t matter who killed Bud,” he said dryly.
I finally felt a tiny opening in the rock. I applied pressure with the toe of my right boot and it held. Relieved, I glanced back up at Jimmy. He had closed his left eye and was focused on the front sight of the rifle with his right eye. I couldn’t be positive, but it looked like he was aiming directly at my forehead.
“Why’d y’all wait so long to retrieve the money?” I asked in a conversational tone, trying to keep him talking.
“Retirement,” he said absently.
“Retirement?”
“Yeah, the normal retirement period is thirty years.” He shifted the muzzle of the rifle from my head to my right hand, as though trying to decide if he wanted me to die instantly or fall to my death. “Had we begun spending the money right away, we would’ve attracted too much attention. Had we stashed it on our ranch, someone would’ve found it. But after thirty years, no one would’ve remembered that old heist—that is, until you came along and screwed up our retirement. For that, you’ll have to die.”
“Had you not killed Zeke McKenzie, you’d be enjoying your retirement right now.” Putting most of my body’s weight on my right foot, I adjusted my grip on the tree branch. “Look, I think we can work something out. If you kill me, you’ll certainly get the firing squad—isn’t that still an option here in Utah?”
“That’s how real men decide to go out.” He grinned wickedly again. “Are you a real man? Do you want to fall to your death like a little bitch or be shot like a man? Pick your poison, son. You’re getting the death sentence, and you get to decide how you’re leaving this earth. As for me, I’ll be long gone before they even find you and your partner. You heard those gunshots, didn’t you? Yeah, you did. That was my dad taking out your partner. It’s over for you, boy.”
As I stared up into his gray eyes, I knew I was looking into the eyes of an animal. Even if this man didn’t need to kill Zeke, he probably would’ve done it for fun. There was no talking him out of killing me and there was no stopping him. I had lost my pistol when I’d grabbed for the branch and, while I’d prefer to go down fighting, I couldn’t even reach him.
“Or you can beg for your life like a little bitch.” Jimmy chuckled. “What’s it going to be?”
“You can go to hell, Jimmy,” I said, holding my head upright, ready to accept my fate. “You’re a coward and a loser. You’ll never amount to shit.”
Jimmy snarled and pulled the trigger.
CHAPTER 41
When Clint Wolf had turned to pursue Jimmy Smith, Leah had broken away and made a beeline for Duke. The elderly man could run
fast for his age, but he was no match for Leah. She closed the distance within a minute.
“Duke Smith, you’re under arrest!” Leah shouted as she came to within twenty yards of the heavy man. “Stop running and get your ass on the ground!”
As though he could feel her bearing down on him, Duke reached toward his belly with his right hand and whipped around in midstride. Detecting the subtle movement of Duke’s right hand, Leah dove to the ground—dipping her shoulder as she did so—and fell into a tactical roll just as Duke began blasting shots from a semi-automatic pistol.
When Leah came out of her roll, her pistol was up and she returned fire. While all of Duke’s bullets ricocheted harmlessly off the orange rocks to Leah’s left, four of her seven shots found their mark. Duke’s T-shirt was white and the red blotches that appeared when he was struck by the bullets provided instant feedback.
Two of the bullets struck Duke in the lower abdomen, but they didn’t slow him down. Seeing the red blotches low on his torso, Leah raised her aim slightly and her next two rounds struck her attacker higher—one in his neck and the other in his chest. Duke stumbled forward, but managed to regain his balance and keep from falling. He opened his mouth to voice an objection, but he was unable to utter an intelligible word. He clamped his mouth shut and tried to lift his gun hand, but was unable to do so.
“Drop the gun!” Leah said, rising slowly to her feet and keeping her pistol trained on the man.
Duke clutched at the holes in his chest with his left hand, as though trying to stop the blood from flowing. Finally, with a befuddled look on his face, he sat down hard on the ground and slumped over.
Leah moved in quickly and kicked the pistol away from Duke’s outstretched hand. Seeing he was no longer a threat, she holstered her weapon and gently rolled Duke onto his back to assess his condition. He was definitely gut shot and would die without medical assistance. The wound to the right side of his neck apparently clipped a nerve, because his right hand hung limp at his side. The chest wound most certainly missed his heart, but it had probably penetrated the upper portion of his lung.
Leah snatched her portable radio from her belt and, after giving her location and announcing that shots had been fired and one suspect was down, she requested immediate medical assistance. Even as she made the request, she knew there was no way the medics would arrive in time to save the man.
Although Duke had just tried to murder her, she tried to make him more comfortable. She ripped the sleeve off of her shirt and pressed it to the wound in Duke’s neck, because it was bleeding more freely than the others.
“Mr. Smith, I’m not going to lie to you, it’s bad,” she said in a solemn, but kind, voice. “You’re dying.”
He let out a grunt, but nodded. “I…I know. I can feel…can feel it.”
“Do you believe in Heaven and hell?”
He nodded again.
“Well, if you want to make it into Heaven, you need to confess your sins.” Leah leaned closer to his face. “I need you to tell me who killed the young boy in Louisiana.”
Duke shook his head and closed his eyes.
“His name was Zeke McKenzie,” Leah said more forcefully, “and he was fourteen years old. His family deserves to know who did this to him.”
Duke opened his eyes and Leah was sure she saw tears leaking down his face.
“Please,” she said, “help me give the family some closure.”
“Jimmy,” Duke said in a hoarse and weak voice. “Jimmy hit him…hit him…um, with a shovel.”
“Did he catch you guys digging up the money?”
Duke closed his eyes and gave a half nod.
“Who killed Bud Walker?”
Duke opened his mouth to speak, but a sudden gasp ripped from his throat. Blood gurgled from his throat. His eyes widened. He reached for Leah’s face with his left hand, but she pushed it away. He lay there struggling for air, clutching wildly with his left hand. Fear filled his eyes.
“Hang on, Mr. Smith, help is on the way,” Leah said soothingly, knowing it was a lost cause. She didn’t bother asking another question, because he was already gone.
Leah quickly stood and glanced toward where she’d last seen Clint Wolf. A frown played across her mouth as she realized that her interaction with Duke Smith had taken several minutes. Clint should’ve been back by now with Jimmy in handcuffs. She was relieved to not have heard the report of that AK-47 again, but she was troubled that Clint had not reappeared.
As she sprinted in the direction of the rugged terrain where Clint and Jimmy had disappeared, she hit the magazine release button on her pistol and quickly replaced it with a fresh and fully loaded magazine. She ran up a steep slope and headed for an outcropping of rocks. Once she rounded the corner, she found herself in a stretch of rugged territory. She stopped briefly and surveyed the area. Thinking quickly, she figured there was only one route Jimmy could have taken, and she headed in that direction.
She had run about a hundred yards when she rounded another corner and came upon a scene that terrified her. Still running forward at a full sprint, she immediately interpreted what she was seeing.
Jimmy Smith was standing at the edge of a cliff, and he was aiming his AK-47 at Clint Wolf, who was out of sight over that cliff and somewhere below Jimmy. She also knew there was no way she could get off an accurate and lifesaving shot on a dead run, so she did the only thing she could do—she closed the distance in several bounding steps. Without uttering even a whisper of a warning, she jumped into the air and kicked Jimmy right in the back with both of her feet. Simultaneous with him pulling the trigger, the heels of her boots crashed violently into his back and bent him in half in the wrong direction.
Leah fell to the ground with a thud just as Jimmy disappeared over the edge of the cliff. Without wasting any time, she scrambled to her hands and knees and crawled rapidly to the cliff’s edge, calling out Clint’s name.
CHAPTER 42
Just as Jimmy pulled the trigger, I kicked off with my right foot and lunged to the left, trying desperately to maintain my grip on the juniper tree. My body swung wildly in that direction. I kept my eyes fixed upward, but stared dumbfounded as Jimmy did a violent pelvic thrust right over the edge of the cliff. The AK-47 flung from his hands and he screamed all the way to the canyon floor.
As I swung back toward my right, I explored wildly with my right foot until I reclaimed the foothold. After checking to make sure the rugged rocks below had served up justice, I glanced up to see what had caused him to plunge to his death.
“Clint!”
I heard Leah’s voice a split second before I saw her face appear over the ledge. When she saw me, she sighed audibly.
“Thank God you’re alive.” She shook her head. “I have a feeling your wife would’ve killed me if anything bad would’ve happened to you.”
Forgetting my plight for a moment, I asked what gave her that idea. I hadn’t heard Susan say anything protective or threatening.
“It’s just the way she looked at me when we left the station,” Leah said. “I could tell she’s very particular about your backup.”
I laughed and then asked if she had any ideas. “I’m afraid this tree will break loose if I try to pull myself up to the ledge.”
“It will,” she said as she examined the trunk of the tree. “Don’t move. It’s barely hanging on as it is.” She scrambled quickly to her feet. “Duke’s truck has a winch on the front bumper. Just stay put for a few minutes.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” I hollered after her disappearing figure. I glanced down again and gulped. If the tree broke loose, I’d be joining Jimmy, who had entered the afterlife in a splattered mess. I put more of my weight on my right foot and hugged the rock wall, praying that Leah would be back soon.
The heat from the rock wall burned my face. Sweat poured from my forehead and burned my eyes. I tried to blink them away, but it was no use. I dared not reach up and wipe my eyes. As I stood there clinging to life, I couldn’t help
but smile wryly when I realized I was the very definition of a cliffhanger at that moment.
I didn’t have to wait long to hear the rumbling of the old Silverado. Thanks to the large boulders that littered the ground above me, Leah would not be able to get the truck close to the edge, but it turned out not to matter. The winch cable was long enough to reach me, and she was soon standing at the edge of the cliff.
“I’ll drop this down to you,” she said, holding up the end of the cable, which she’d fashioned into a loop. “As soon as you’re situated, I’ll have to go back to the truck to retract the cable.”
I reached for the cable with my left hand and pulled it as far as it would go. I had to lift my left foot high, but managed to fit it into the loop. Saying a silent prayer, I flexed the muscles in my leg and pulled on the juniper branch, slowly lifting myself. I was almost upright when the juniper branch suddenly snapped.
Leah screamed as I fell. My left hand nearly caught fire as it slid rapidly down the cable. I squeezed for all I was worth, but it didn’t even slow my descent. When my hand broke free from the cable, my body unfolded violently. My heart nearly leapt to my throat as I slammed against the rock wall. Miraculously, my foot had snagged in the loop and I was left hanging upside down, a mere seventy feet separating me from certain death.
“Oh, my God, Clint, are you okay?”
“Just pull me up,” I whispered, afraid to breathe. “Just pull me up.”
I heard her boots clattering against the rock as she rushed back to the truck. Within seconds, the cable jerked. I gasped out loud.
“Shit!” I took a calming breath. I was not ready to die, and I certainly didn’t want to go out like this. I stole a glance at my boot as the cable began to pull me toward the rim. The loop had tightened around my boot and was strangling my ankle. It hurt, but I didn’t care. I just didn’t want it to let go.
Leah had fed the cable over a large boulder near the rim and it allowed the cable to lift me above the edge of the cliff. As soon as my head was clear of the edge, I clutched at the boulder and pulled my body away from the drop-off.