Dark Sky, page 12
part #21 of Joe Pickett Series
The morning was cool and sunny at the moment with little wind, but he knew the weather could change at elevation in a heartbeat and they weren’t equipped for it.
Price said, “Is it true an aspen grove is one of the largest living organisms on earth? That all of the roots are interconnected so that it’s all a single entity?”
“Yes, that’s true.”
“So it’s kind of like the Internet,” Price said.
That made Joe pause.
“Except right now we can access the aspen grove, of course,” Price said with a sour chuckle.
For the first time that morning, Joe smiled. But it wasn’t a happy smile.
* * *
—
Joe shouldered his pack and started walking east again. Price dutifully followed. After a half mile, Price said, “I thought this wasn’t our plan.”
“Just for a while.”
“Can you give me a little more than that?”
Within fifty yards Joe could hear the furious rush of a small spring-fed creek coursing down the center of the drainage over and through large rocks. He turned in that direction until he found a wide bed of smooth, tumbled stones. The tiny creek was feisty and the only glimpses he actually had of it were pillows of foam between river rocks and a few droplets spitting into the air between them.
“In the spring, this is a big creek,” Joe said. “There’s even a waterfall down below. But right now there’s not much water to speak of.”
“I see that,” Price said.
“This is where we cross and go north,” Joe said. “They’ll be able to track us to here and they’ll figure we followed it down. If we do this right, I think it’ll take them a long time to realize we didn’t.”
Price nodded slowly and gave Joe a thumbs-up. “I like it,” he said.
“Step from rock to rock,” Joe said. “Try not to lose your balance and fall. We don’t want any broken bones.”
“No, we don’t.”
Joe dropped to his hands and knees and pushed aside a dying fern that covered a six-inch-wide opening between the rocks. The stream was clear and no more than three inches deep. He bent down, closed his eyes, and sucked in ice water until his throat hurt.
When he was done, he climbed back to his feet and gestured to Price to do the same.
“Is the quality of the water something we should worry about?” Price asked.
“Maybe,” Joe said. “But I think we have more things to worry about right now.”
As he said it, he recalled that he had a plastic bottle with a Katadyn water purification filter in his pack. He hadn’t used it in years, but he thought the filter would still be okay. Joe dug it out and handed it to Price. “Better use this,” he said.
Price reached for it and froze with his hand inches away from the Nalgene bottle. Joe noted that Price’s eyes were focused on something over his shoulder.
“What?” Joe asked.
“I saw movement over there in the trees,” Price said, his tone rising with panic. “I think they found us already.”
* * *
—
Get down,” Joe said, placing his hand on Price’s shoulder and forcing him to his knees. Joe dropped with him until they were both on their bellies on the edge of the creek. They were low enough that the exposed rocks in the creek bed shielded them from being seen by someone at the same level from the other slope. The ground was cold and his body heat instantly thawed the frost from the bunched-up grass.
Joe mouthed, “Where?” to Price, and Price chinned toward a long finger of aspen on the other side of the water. The finger went down the slope until it petered out as it approached a wall of spruce and mountain juniper.
After removing his hat, Joe raised his head until he could see over the top of the rocks in the creek. It took a few seconds before he saw movement—something in the aspens among the trunks. The form was vertical, unlike the blocky outline of an animal. Dark color strobed between pale tree trunks at a slow but steady pace. It was a man and he was moving from east to west, the same direction they’d come.
As Joe watched, the vertical form became Brock Boedecker as he shouldered around a tree trunk and walked toward them. Boedecker gave no indication he’d seen them yet, and his attention was focused up the slope to the east, where the Thomas clan would no doubt come from, Joe thought. Boedecker had left the shelter of the aspens and was now in the open. It was as if Boedecker had been drawn by the water, just as Joe and Price had been.
“He’s coming right at us,” Joe whispered to Price over his shoulder.
“Does he know we’re here?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Is he with us or against us?”
“Don’t know,” Joe said. “Stop talking.”
Boedecker was forty feet away, directly across from them on the other side of the stream. He halted at the edge of the rocks and squatted down to fill his water bottle. Joe recalled Earl ordering the man to give up his sidearm, and he couldn’t determine if he had any other weapons. Like Joe, Boedecker had a small daypack.
Boedecker stood and drank. He was so close, Joe could hear the glugging. The rancher refilled his bottle and then, as he lowered it to slip it back into the side pocket of his pack, his upper body turned, and their eyes met.
Boedecker froze. “Joe?”
Joe reached back and indicated to Price with a hand wave that he wanted him to remain flat on his belly and out of Boedecker’s sight. Then he rose up until he and Boedecker faced off eye to eye. Boedecker made no threatening movements.
Joe unzipped his parka and slipped his right hand inside his coat to where his empty holster was. It was a ruse, but he hoped it would make Boedecker think twice.
“Don’t make me do something I don’t want to do,” Joe said. “You showed your hand back at the camp. I’d suggest you keep moving.”
“It isn’t like that, Joe,” Boedecker said. “I didn’t know how things would go.”
“You were in on it,” Joe said. “What did you do, tell Earl where we’d be camping?”
Boedecker’s eyes darted several times to where Joe’s hand was concealed beneath his coat. He obviously wasn’t sure that Joe wasn’t armed, although the chances of it were unlikely.
“I never told him, Joe. Because I didn’t know where we’d camp for sure when we set off. You were the guide, remember?”
“He knew when we left. He knew which trailhead. And you allowed them to listen to us through the radio in your gear.”
Boedecker didn’t deny anything and, to his credit, Joe thought, he didn’t try to come up with a lie. Instead, he said, “I never thought it would go the way it did. You might not know it, but Earl has a right to be on the warpath. I knew he’d want to confront Steve-2 in person because he couldn’t get near him any other way. But this . . .” Boedecker widened his eyes in disbelief.
He continued. “When Earl sent me away without my horses or my guns, I knew what was going to go down. But I didn’t expect it until it happened.”
Joe didn’t reply. Instead, he gestured for Boedecker to move along.
“I ain’t going by myself, Joe. Come on, man.”
“You got yourself into this.”
Boedecker said, “They’ll kill me.”
“Why would they kill you now? You helped them.”
“Because they can’t leave any witnesses,” Boedecker said. “There’s something you don’t know.”
“What’s that?”
Boedecker pointed toward the east. “After I left camp I ran like a son of a bitch. I heard the shots and it spooked the hell out of me, so I deliberately went in the wrong direction. I figured I’d put as much distance as I could between them and me before I started down the mountain.”
Joe nodded for him to go on.
“I found a dead hunter lying facedown in a little meadow,” Boedecker said. “Lots of blood, and he wasn’t completely stiff, so it happened just last night, I think. I rolled him over and saw the stab wound in his ribs.”
Joe shuddered and recalled the knifepoint at his side just a little over an hour ago. Kirby.
“Who was he?” Joe asked.
“Don’t know,” Boedecker said. “But he looked like one of those millennial types. Long beard, wearing all camo. Young guy. I figured he might have stumbled on the Thomases last night and they took him out. Poor fucker.”
“And you left him there?”
“What the hell else could I do?” Boedecker asked. “It came clear to me right then that Earl doesn’t want anyone to talk about what happened up here. The only people he trusts are his sons. They’ll kill me, and you if they have to. That seems like a good reason for the two of us to stick together. We’re not involved in this dispute.”
Joe thought about it. Boedecker didn’t push him.
* * *
—
Do you have a cell phone on you?” Joe asked.
“Nope. Didn’t even bring it with me.”
“Any weapons?”
“Earl made me drop my .44. I’m unarmed and defenseless. I’ve got a skinning knife and fencing pliers in my backpack, but that’s it. I don’t even have bear spray. I can’t remember the last time I was in these mountains with no way to defend myself. How’d you get to keep your gun?”
Joe kept his hand where it was. He didn’t want to reveal the truth.
“They took your weapon away, didn’t they?” the rancher asked. His eyes twinkled.
Joe let his right hand drop away from the empty holster.
“Yup.”
“You had me going there for a minute, though,” Boedecker said with a chuckle. “Of course, if I would have thought about it more, I’d remember you can’t hit a damned thing with a handgun.”
It was true.
“They were pretty thorough,” Boedecker said. “They had this thing planned out. Earl has been thinking about it for close to a year.”
Joe wondered how Thomas had known about it that long.
“Hey,” Boedecker said, “where’s Steve-2? Did they get him? Was that what all the shooting was about?”
Again, Joe didn’t respond. He recalled that Boedecker hadn’t been there when he and Price had made their run for it.
“The bodyguard made a break for it,” Joe said. “Brad wounded him with his shotgun and finished him off.”
“Jesus.”
“That created a distraction,” Joe said. “I hit Kirby and Earl with bear spray and took off.”
“So Steve-2 got away, too?”
“I reckon.”
“They want him, not us,” Boedecker said.
“What’s your point?”
“If they have him, they might not come after us for a while. If he somehow got away from them during the confusion, I wouldn’t think a guy like that would get very far.”
“Again, what’s your point?”
“I’m just saying, if you and me stick together, we might be able to get down the mountain in one piece. And if we run into Steve-2, well . . .” He let his thought trail off.
“Are you saying we should turn him over to them?” Joe asked.
Boedecker shrugged. But it meant Maybe.
“Do you really think that could happen?” Joe asked. “We’ve already got them down for two murders. Do you really think they’d let us walk even if we gave them Price?”
“Maybe, but probably not,” Boedecker said. “Earl may be inclined to make us a deal—Steve-2 for us. I know I’d make that deal, considering what the guy did to Earl. It would be a good thing for humanity in general, I’d say.”
“I didn’t do anything to that man!” Price shouted at Boedecker as he scrambled to his feet behind Joe. Joe sighed inwardly to himself. The man just couldn’t be silent.
“You had no good reason to betray me,” Price said to Boedecker. “I don’t even know you.”
Boedecker registered his surprise by stepping back a few feet. When he recovered, he said, “I might not have a good reason, but Earl sure as hell does.”
Joe, once again, was confused. There seemed to be a lot going on beneath the surface he wasn’t privy to. But he didn’t want to take the time to litigate it, not with the very real possibility that the Thomas clan could emerge through the aspen at any moment.
He had to think fast.
“You can stay with us for the time being,” Joe said to Boedecker. “We were just about to climb that north ridge and drop down into the next drainage. We thought we might be able to shake ’em.”
“Harder to track over the rocks. Smart. I’ll do my part,” Boedecker said with relief. “I know the country over there better than most. I’ve hunted it all my life.”
“I’m aware of that.”
To Price, Boedecker said, “I didn’t know you were there. I was just spitballing ideas with Joe.”
“Fuck you,” Price spat.
* * *
—
A half hour later, the trees started to thin as the granite wall punched up through the forest floor. It was marked by fissures and ledges that looked difficult to climb, but not impossible. They’d tried to step from rock to rock on their way north to avoid leaving tracks.
Boedecker announced he’d scout to the west to see if there was an easier route to the top than the one they were looking at.
When he was gone, Price turned to Joe. “Were you really thinking about giving me up?”
“Nope, although I’m not sure why.”
Price ignored the caveat. “Can we trust your friend?”
“Nope.”
Price was angry. “Then why are we bringing him along?”
“He knows the country over there, like he said,” Joe whispered. “And I’d rather know exactly where he is at all times.”
Price looked puzzled at first. Then he said, “You don’t want him hooking up with the Thomases and showing them where we went.”
Joe nodded.
“Thank you,” Price said.
“Thank me if we get out of this,” Joe said. “Until then, stick close to me. Don’t engage with Brock. Sound carries up here, so try not to talk—or argue—unless it’s important.”
“That’ll be tough for me.”
“I know.”
THIRTEEN
For the next hour, they climbed up the north ridge. Boedecker led and Price brought up the rear. Joe chose to stay in the middle to keep them apart from each other and to prevent another loud argument. And he didn’t want Boedecker behind Price on the ascent. It would be too easy, Joe thought, for Boedecker to give Price a shove and send him tumbling down the mountain when Joe wasn’t looking. Since Boedecker had already stated his willingness to sacrifice Price to the Thomases to save himself, Joe couldn’t give him the opportunity.
Much of the climb was hand over hand, grasping exposed tree roots and granite outcroppings for balance. The pitch was steeper than Joe had guessed it would be when he’d surveyed the wall from a distance. He also realized as he struggled upward that for the last third of the route the three of them would be in the open. There were very few trees above them all the way to the summit and those that clung to the wall were stunted and sparse. The three of them, he thought, would be easy pickings for a marksman. Joe was well aware of the lethal capability of ultramodern long-range rifle technology. He knew that even from the distance of the valley floor they were vulnerable.
Brock Boedecker chose the route to the top well, Joe thought. He moved steadily and knew how to avoid dead ends and side trips that might be physically less taxing than straight up, but would threaten to rimrock them or make them backtrack. It was a skill born of guiding hunters in rough terrain for years.
Boedecker looked over his shoulder at Joe from time to time to make sure he was still with him. When Boedecker shifted his gaze to Price, Joe could see the contempt in his face. He didn’t seem to really care if Price made it or not.
* * *
—
I need a break,” Price wheezed to Joe. “I can’t get air. The altitude is really getting to me.”
“I know it’s tough, but we’ve got to keep climbing,” Joe said in response. His legs hurt as well, especially the left one, where he’d been shot. The muscles in his wounded thigh were overwhelmed and he felt at times that he was more swinging his leg up behind him than using it to climb. He could feel a sheen of sweat beneath his clothing.
The sky darkened into overcast and it was getting colder the higher they went. Their breaths had turned into cloudy puffs of condensation.
“My thighs are burning,” Price said.
“Shhhh.”
Price cursed at Joe, but he chose not to stop and rest. Joe was thankful for that.
* * *
—
Almost there,” Boedecker said with a voice hoarse from exertion. “I can see the top of the ridge.”
“It’s about time,” Price said.
Joe wasn’t sure how much longer he could go on without a breather. His lungs ached and his knees screamed with sharp pain. He was getting to the point where his hands were trembling and his climbing technique was getting sloppy and imprecise. It was like the end of a long day of fly-fishing, he thought, when he would cast with tired arms and the line would bunch up in the air and fall around his head and shoulders. When that happened, it was time to quit.
But he couldn’t quit now.
Ahead of him, Boedecker cursed.
“What is it?” Joe asked.
“False summit,” Boedecker groused. “I thought we were there, but there’s another fifty yards to go.”
Joe took a deep breath and kept climbing. As he did so, he looked over his shoulder to see that Price had stopped. The man was pressed against the rough granite wall with his eyes closed and his mouth agape. He was heaving in an attempt to get more air.
