Rex Dalton Thriller series Boxset 2

by J C Ryan

  Flo shrieked.

  Junior was flat on his back, screaming at Digger to let go as blood began dripping from where the dog had his jaws locked around his arm.

  Rex kept his Sig pointed at Junior and called to Digger, “Leave it!” He couldn’t spare a glance at Flo, but he called to her, asking if she was all right. A shaky affirmation came from her direction.

  “Yes, I’m okay. Just startled.”

  Startled. After being shot at. This girl’s one cool cucumber.

  Aloud, he called to Barry, who he hadn’t seen or heard since the shot. “Mr. Marks, are you okay?”

  “A little rattled,” he wheezed. “I’ll be all right. Is Flo okay?”

  Rex yelled at Junior. “What the hell was that?”

  Junior was still nursing his bleeding arm. Shakily, he pointed toward Flo as Rex disarmed him and told Digger to guard him. It wasn’t an answer. Rex was livid and didn’t look. Instead he went to Barry. The man was clutching his chest and gasping for breath, pawing at a pocket in his cargo shorts.

  “What do you need, Barry?” Rex asked.

  Within a couple of seconds, Flo was at his side, a look of love and despair on her face. “Honey?”

  “Pills,” Barry gasped, letting his left arm fall to his side as he pushed on his chest with the palm of his right hand.

  Rex dug in the pocket Barry had been trying to reach and came out with a small amber bottle. He read the label and turned to Barry.

  “Nitroglycerin? Mr. Marks, with all due respect, what the hell are you doing on this trek?”

  Flo gasped. “Honey, why didn’t you tell me? I would never have agreed…”

  “And that’s why,” Marks interrupted. “Is it too much to ask to take advantage of an opportunity of a lifetime before I die? And I’m not going to die any time soon, its only angina, not a heart attack.”

  Rex’s medical training in the Special Forces and CRC taught him that angina is a short-term discomfort or pain in the chest caused by the narrowing of arteries leading to the heart and which was brought on by physical exertion or intense emotion and would go away after a few minutes of rest. The nitroglycerin would help to open up the arteries and relieve the condition quickly.

  Flo gasped again and started crying.

  “Just give me a damn pill and find out what Roper was thinking, damn him.” Barry’s color had started to come back, and he was now turning red in the face with anger.

  Rex recognized it as a reaction to the adrenaline spike from the fright. Maybe it was a good thing. But one thing was sure, they were going to have a sit-down talk about whether to continue this journey.

  “Is anyone going to ask me why I fired the gun?” Junior lamented.

  Digger growled in response. That was enough to make Junior turn even paler and shut his mouth.

  Rex left the Markses murmuring quietly to each other and assuring each other they were both okay. He walked over to Junior, who’d sat on the ground, still holding his bleeding arm.

  “All right, asshole. Why did you fire the gun?”

  “Because of that,” Junior answered, pointing again. This time Rex looked. Near where Flo had been standing, a yard-long black object lay on the ground. Without calling Digger off, he walked closer until he made out more detail in the gray gloom of the cloudy afternoon. A shiny black snake with a beautiful yellow-gold band of color wrapped around the middle of its face lay in the dust of the trail. Its head was neatly separated from its body by Junior’s slug. Flo’s footprints were less than six inches from it.

  Rex knew snakes. Identifying every venomous snake known to man was part of his training. This one was an Andean coral snake, Leptomicrurus narduccii. He’d never seen one in the flesh before, but he knew its venom was among the most potent neurotoxin found in snakes, causing respiratory paralysis and suffocation. In Mexico, its cousin was called the twenty-minute snake, because that’s how long you had to live after being bitten.

  Junior had probably saved Flo’s life.

  A flood of relief and remorse flowed through Rex. He turned around and called Digger off.

  “Sorry, man,” he called out. He started across the trail to the clearing where they’d set up camp and handed Junior’s pistol back to him. “The thing is, Digger doesn’t like guns.”

  Junior bristled. “If I’d stopped to explain, Flo would have stepped on the snake and been bitten.”

  Rex nodded. “You’re right. No problem with that. You did the right thing, and I’m sorry about Digger’s and my reaction. Let’s get over it.”

  Junior’s hands curled into fists. “Next time, I’ll shoot the damn dog first.”

  Rex, who was a yard or so away back on his way to the Markses, stopped and turned slowly. He looked Junior straight in the eyes and spoke softly. “No you won’t. You'll be dead before you can pull the trigger.”

  Rex held Junior’s gaze until he dropped his eyes.

  Junior squirmed, and Rex knew he’d come close to voiding his bladder.

  Good – he got the message.

  Rex turned his back on Junior and started walking toward the Markses. He knew Digger would keep the kid from attacking him from behind, and so did Junior, probably.

  He had a very important question for Junior, which was, why are you carrying a gun? It was a catch-22 situation. He couldn't ask without explaining why he himself was carrying. In his case, he knew why. In Junior's case, he’d have to find out without asking. There was more to Junior than met the eye, and it troubled Rex that he didn’t know more about the guy and had begun to trust him so easily.

  You’re getting sloppy, Dalton.

  Flo watched him closely as he approached.

  Rex noticed her stare. Great. Now she doesn’t trust me.

  He forced himself to slow down, look less intimidating, and speak softly. “Are you two all right? Barry?”

  Barry nodded wearily. Rex assumed Flo had given him a piece of her mind about the danger he’d put himself in. He glanced at her and repeated the question.

  “I’m fine. But I’m wondering why either one of you is carrying a pistol. And I saw how fast you pulled yours. You both owe us an explanation.”

  Before he responded to her demand, he made sure she knew it was damn lucky for her that someone had been armed.

  “I’m sorry I overreacted to Junior pulling his gun. Did you happen to look down before you moved from where you were when he did?”

  “No, why would I?”

  “No reason. But if you had, you’d have seen the snake he killed. You were in mortal danger, and he acted to save you. I can’t speak for why he has a gun, but I can say that if I’d seen the snake, I’d have done the same thing.”

  Rex knew he had to give credit where it was due. But if he’d thought it would distract Flo from her original question, he was mistaken.

  “Good. I will thank Junior for that, and he can speak for himself about his gun. My question to you remains the same. Why are you carrying a gun?”

  “Simply put, Flo, I carry a gun for protection. As you have seen, there are wild animals out here, and some can be unfriendly. Snakes, packs of feral dogs, and who knows what else? That’s why I carry my pistol, and why it’s always on me. There could be bad people out here, too.

  “Just so you know, in case you didn’t see it when we loaded up, there’s also a rifle in one of the packs. That’s for bigger wild animals and other threats in whatever form they present themselves.

  “And finally, my take on carrying a gun is that I’d rather be judged by twelve than carried by six.”

  Flo nodded. “All right, I’ll grant you those are valid reasons. I still think we should have known. Concealed weapons are dangerous.”

  Rex didn’t reply. He crossed his arms. That was his last word on the subject.

  Flo got the hint and turned to Junior, who had managed to get himself up and join the group. “Thank you for saving me,” she said.

  “You’re welcome.” Junior cast an injured glance at Rex and Digger
but said nothing else.

  “Now I’d like to know why you were carrying a weapon without telling us,” Flo persisted.

  Junior’s expression took on the spoiled-brat look Rex had first seen in the restaurant days ago. “To shoot snakes with,” he answered condescendingly.

  Flo softened her voice. “Do you know of bandits or other human hazards out here?”

  “No,” Junior snapped and turned away abruptly, leaving the Markses and Rex staring after him.

  “Junior, come back. I would like to look at the wounds on your arm and treat them properly. You don’t want to get an infection.”

  Junior ignored her and kept on walking.

  “What’s got into him?” Barry asked.

  Rex wondered the same thing. Of course, being attacked by Digger and having a gun pointed at him would have put anyone in a sour mood, but something was off about Junior’s exchange with Flo. Rex intended to find out what it was.

  Digger was growling and muttering at Rex’s feet. Rex took him a few yards away from the Markses to calm him down.

  “It’s okay, boy, really. You need to lighten up on him. I’ve got this.”

  Digger turned his head away. Rex took his face in both hands to look him in the eye while he repeated his assurances, but Digger twisted out of his grasp, got up, turned so his back was to Rex, and sat down again.

  “Well, I guess we know how you feel about it. But seriously, stop growling at him, and don’t bite him again unless he attacks one of us.”

  Rex leaned around to see Digger’s face. He was yawning.

  Chapter Nine

  THE NEXT MORNING, Junior approached Rex despite Digger’s continued animosity. He looked nervously at the dog and then appeared to gather his courage.

  “Hey, man, I’m sorry I lost my shit yesterday. Even though your dog doesn’t like me, I’d never do that. I was just upset about the snake and the misunderstanding. And the bite,” he added, looking again at Digger.

  Rex wanted it behind them. They still had to decide what to do about Barry’s angina and increasing distress in the higher altitude. He accepted Junior’s apology with as much grace as he could, and then changed the subject.

  “How much farther to the village do you think?” he asked Junior.

  “We should get there today. Maybe three to four miles.”

  Rex addressed everyone when he asked, “Is it really a good idea to continue? Barry, wouldn’t it be safer for you to return to a lower altitude? I know Flo has been worried about you.”

  Barry took on a stubborn look, and Flo spoke up quickly. “We talked about it last night after we went to bed. Barry says he feels fine, and that he hasn’t needed the nitroglycerin on the hike before. If anything, his condition has improved since we got to Peru. He feels the exercise and fresh air is good for him. He just got a shock from the… incident.”

  Rex nodded. “Okay let’s hope we don’t have more incidents then.” Rex asked Junior if the day’s hike to the village would be as steep as the day before.

  “Yeah, I’m afraid so. But Barry said it was just chest pain, not a heart attack. What difference does a steep trail make?”

  You can’t be that stupid.

  Rex stared at Junior for several seconds.

  The younger man stared back.

  Flo stepped in.

  “Rex, you’re welcome to turn back if you don’t want to continue. But Barry wants to go on, and I’m going with him, if Junior is still willing to take us.”

  Rex couldn’t see any advantage to turn back four miles from where he wanted to be. He could tell he wasn’t going to change Barry’s mind, and that Flo was determined to stay with and support her husband. And above all, he had a gut feeling that no good would come of him leaving the Markses in the hands of the not so capable Junior. Although he couldn’t put his finger on the reason, the kid’s demeanor remained a source of concern for Rex.

  “I guess it’s settled, then. Junior, how long will it take to get there if we keep it very slow, say a mile an hour?”

  “We’d still get there long before dark,” Junior answered.

  “Then let’s load up. Barry, take it slow. As you’ve heard, we’re not far away from the village, don’t push yourself. We’ve got a lot of time to get there.”

  “Will do,” Barry mumbled.

  While they were strapping the tents and other gear back onto the llamas’ pack saddles, Rex found a moment to speak to Junior alone.

  “Please keep it to that pace,” he said. “I don’t think Barry should be going any higher at all, even though he says it’s okay. But at least let him do it slowly, all right?”

  “All right, man. Whatever you say.” Junior’s insouciant grin was back. Rex felt like wiping it off his face, but he refrained. They didn’t need any more discord on this trip.

  ***

  HOURS LATER, A gaggle of children met them on the outskirts of the village. Flo was all smiles as she handed out candy and little gifts. They were carried to the center of the village in a tidal wave of smiling, laughing villagers who came out of their homes to greet them.

  A man of about Rex’s age came out of the adobe structure where the crowd stopped pressing them and greeted Junior. They had a hurried conversation, and Rex saw a note pass between them. He moved forward to hear what was being said, and heard Junior ask when the note had arrived.

  “Seven days, I think,” the man answered.

  Junior frowned. He crumpled the note in his hand and turned to the Markses.

  “I’m sorry, but I have to go. My uncle has been in an accident, and I need to move fast. I suggest you stay here. Alexandro knows the site, and he will take you there tomorrow or anytime when you’re ready. I apologize again, but I have no choice, I need to leave urgently. I’ll be back as soon as I’ve seen to my uncle.”

  Before they could discuss it, Junior had hoisted his back pack and hurried back the way they’d come. Rex and the Markses stared after him, open-mouthed.

  Barry said, “What just happened?”

  “I think we’ve just been ditched,” Rex answered. “But don’t worry. If he’s not back by the time you want to go back, I’ll accompany you, we know the way now. What do you want to do?”

  Flo spoke firmly. “We’ve gone to the trouble of getting here for a reason. That reason hasn’t changed. My husband and I want to see those ruins, and if you’re willing to stay until we’ve done so and accompany us back, we’ll appreciate it very much.”

  “I’m not in a hurry to return. I’ll be happy to stay here for a few days or longer, if the villagers are okay with it.”

  Barry and Flo both sighed in relief and smiled.

  Rex looked closely at Barry. He didn’t seem to be in any respiratory distress. If the ruins were another four-thousand feet up the mountainside as Junior had indicated, that might change. But he didn’t expect it to change tonight or in the next few days. Flo was already trying to communicate with some women who had circled them, apparently to thank her for what she’d given their children.

  He stepped over to translate the Quechuan and told Barry and Flo that the villagers were inviting them to some kind of feast. He wasn’t sure if it was in honor of their arrival or another reason. When he’d finished that, he sought out the man who’d handed Junior the note and who seemed to be a kind of leader in the village.

  “We’d like to pitch our tents nearby. Where would you like us to do that?” he asked.

  The man wouldn’t hear of it, though. He insisted that Rex and his companions take an empty house for their shelter. Rex accepted and led the llamas to the hut, where he unloaded them with the help of several village boys, whom Flo rewarded with more candy. The villagers were so excited to see them and interested in them that Rex could only conclude that having visitors not related to their tribe was not something that happened often.

  He wondered how the note Junior was handed on their arrival had gotten here, and why they hadn’t encountered the messenger on the way. As soon as he’d a
rranged their possessions for their stay, he went to question the man more closely. The man, Alexandro, claimed to be the village leader. He used the term Inka Mallku, which Rex understood to be a high priest in Inca spiritual practice.

  Rex soon learned the probable source of Alexandro’s stature in the community. Inside his hut, where he invited Rex to sit and speak with him, was an ancient CB radio.

  Rex’s bullshit gauge was flashing red lights. So, that note hadn’t been delivered by messenger, it came in on the radio. Interesting. Very interesting. Why didn’t Junior use the radio to contact his uncle then? And if the message came in seven days ago and was so urgent, why didn’t Alexandro send someone from the village to meet them on the trail? Why let them walk all the way there just to let Junior go back all the way?

  Alexandro must have been educated elsewhere, or by missionaries. He could speak and write Spanish, though he seemed to prefer speaking Quechuan. Rex lost track of the time as Alexandro revealed a wider knowledge of the world than he would have expected. While Alexandro talked, Rex improved his own grasp of Quechuan by asking in Spanish about words or concepts he didn’t quite get. Alexandro seemed enchanted by Rex’s interest. If he could’ve stayed here for four to six weeks, he’d become near fluent.

  Rex heard Flo calling him from outside and excused himself to see what she wanted. His first thought was that Barry might have taken a turn for the worse, but seeing Flo’s smiling face dispelled that quickly.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  “It’s time for the feast, I think,” she said. “The women want me to go with them, but I can’t understand what they’re saying.”

  Rex waved at Alexandro, who’d followed him out, and called, “Excuse me, I must help this woman.”

  Alexandro waved back, smiling.

  Rex and Flo approached a group of women who were dressed in traditional, colorful woven serapes and short skirts, with the peculiar flat hats of the region set in rakish tilts on their heads. When he’d first seen the hats, he’d assumed they were shaped that way to allow the women to carry large burdens on their heads, as he’d seen in Africa and elsewhere. However, he soon learned that any burden placed on these women’s heads would have immediately fallen off, as the colorful hats were as angled as the most proper of British royalty would have worn them.