Absolution River (14 page)

The engine turned and turned with no spark. Thirty yards and the guards were closing in on them. Bullets began to strike the truck. The pings of lead striking soft metal resounded throughout the cab. Anders continued to approach, running and dodging zigzag lines to avoid being hit by the guards. Ten yards. Five guards approached right on his trail. Anders leapt into the bed of the truck and immediately took cover.

“What are you waiting for?” Anders yelled.

“It won’t start!”

The guards were now within fifty feet and their shots getting more and more accurate.

“I’m out!” Anders yelled from the back as he laid there in the bed of the truck in the fetal position, his arms over his head and ears to protect his face from ricocheting bullets.

“I’m not,” a nearly imperceptible voice from the passenger’s seat spoke out. Jack had pulled his last pistol from his pants and had it aimed out the window. The bullets were striking the mirror, truck bed, and parts of the engine. Jack fired. The cordite smell in the cab was thick and stung the lungs. Three guards fell on the ground and rolled down the hill. Shot dead. The other two ran in opposite directions, as the exposed hill provided no cover.

The engine fired up.

“Yes!” exclaimed Marie as she threw the transmission into drive and sped off as fast as she could.

The wind was blowing in through the broken glass into their faces. The sunlight was fading as storm clouds began to move in. The rumbling of the thunder not far off into the distance disturbed the first moments of peace they had all had in quite some time. Anders laid back in the bed of the truck in utter exhaustion, thrilled to be alive and missing his daughter. He wondered what his wife was thinking, and hoped she wasn’t worrying too much. Marie looked down at Jack. His eyes were closed with the pistol still in his hands as he was fading in and out of consciousness. Marie leaned over and grabbed the gun out of his hand and laid it down in the middle seat between them. She held her hand to his pulse and it felt strong. With a smile she sped up and continued as fast as she could down the county road, away from the danger, away from that horrible place.

XXVI

The truck approached the city limits of Lakeside along Flathead Lake. They avoided larger cities in case Grimes’ men were still in pursuit. There was no way of knowing.

“We need to get him to a hospital.”

“No, no hospital,” replied Jack. “I just need a first aid kit and rest. Just need to rest right now. I couldn’t handle being in a hospital. At least not until we know it’s all over for good.”

“You could have internal bleeding for all you know, we need a hospital.”

“I don’t, I would be dead by now if I had. I can stich it myself.”

They pulled into a small motel along the water’s edge. It had two levels and a good view of the lake. The structure was falling apart, much like the local economy, the small towns of Montana didn’t get tourists like they used to. It was a flourishing summer hotspot decades ago, but now, simply a motor inn, taking in the occasional weary traveller. The clouds were moving in slowly and their darkness increased in intensity. The daylight had gone and was replaced by a dreary backdrop in an isolated part of the country. People rarely passed by the motel, and this place was not on the way to anything.

Anders paid cash, room 2G. The three entered into the shabby room. Two twin beds and an ancient TV were all the furniture in the room except for a leaning table and a few chairs overlooking the lake. Above the beds were the typical lakeside fake paintings with ducks and cattails often seen in a rented cabin. The bathroom was old but clean and Jack went immediately to the shower.

Before he entered he held his forearm to the doorframe to hold his weight and asked, “Marie?”

“Yes?” She said with a hint of concern.

“Can you run and get me a few things?”

“Of course, what do you need? I’ll get anything.” Marie said with a smile. Her face was bruised and there was mud covering half of her face and body.

“Wait, you look almost as bad as Jack, let me go. What do you need buddy?”

“Just need some rubbing alcohol, some gauze, and a needle and thread. Maybe a clean shirt if they have it.”

“What do you need the needle and thread–wait, how are you gonna stich your own back?”

Jack grinned through the pain, “That’s why I need you pal.”

“Damn, I’m no medic, but I’ll sure as hell try.”

Jack walked into the bathroom and closed the door behind him. His face looked like he was in a rugby match. There were slight burns on his face and arms from the explosion and the mud was deep in every wound. Pulling his shirt off caused almost more pain than he could bear, as the dried blood from his knife wound stuck to his shirt. When he lifted the torn piece of clothing it took the bandages with it and blood began to pour out in waves. He held the wound while hunched over the sink and stood there a moment to collect himself. The hot water of the shower came over him and there was a sensation of pure relief. He had not showered since he left the prison weeks ago except for the ice-cold river near Eli’s place. As the water flowed down his battered and broken body the blood followed with it and trickled down his leg in a watercolor red. The pain and the relief were equal in measure and he thought he could stand there for days.

Marie collapsed on the bed. Her body was still in shock from the last couple of days. Lost in the woods, finding an old man dead, getting tortured with a car battery, enduring a firefight, and now laying here in silence on a bed that may have not been washed in months. She didn’t care. The soft mattress enveloped her, embracing her and sending her quickly into unconsciousness. Her eyes were heavy and burned as they closed.

Jack stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his abdomen as tight as he could while still being able to breathe. The bleeding seemed to have stopped. His face was pale as he looked at himself in the mirror after wiping away the condensation. He opened the door and saw Marie lying on the bed, sleeping hard. Her breathing was heavy and her feet were still on the floor. He bent over and winced with pain as he removed her boots. Pushing her legs up onto the bed, he pulled the bedspread over her and put a pillow under her head.

Anders took the truck and found a pharmacy just up the road from the motel. Frankie’s Pharmacy was displayed on an old rotating sign from the fifties. The building stood alone and the parking lot was dirt. In front were a number of old vending machines issuing out sodas and snacks long since expired. The door rang as he walked through the entrance.

“Can I help you, sir?” said the older gentlemen with graying hair who stood behind the cash register. He wore a pharmacist uniform and his glasses hung at the very tip of his nose.

“Just need some medical supplies.”

“Someone get hurt?”

“Uh, yeah, just a scratch,” said Anders as gave the cashier a polite smile.

The cashier looked at Anders with curiosity, as he was a native with scratches all over his face, and his clothes were caked in mud. There were black scorch marks all over his pants and holes where they had burned through.

“We, uh, have a small collection of clothes in the back if you need it.”

Anders smiled again, “Thanks.”

When he was checking out, he noticed a bottle of Jack Daniel’s on the shelf behind the cashier. “I’ll take that too.”

“Looks like you need it, pal,” said the cashier.

Anders walked out with two brown bags full of medical supplies and clothes for all of them. As he walked across the parking lot, fumbling for his keys, he noticed a vehicle moving slowly along the highway. Moving at twenty miles an hour, the window was rolled down on this large black truck. It was difficult to see within it but from what he could see the man on the inside wore a dark coat and sunglasses. He could have even sworn that he saw him smiling with a little wave. The keys fell out of his pocket and as he looked up the truck was gone. Only the faint sound of its exhaust in the distance.

Anders used the key and entered the hotel room. Marie and Jack were each fast asleep on the beds and he came in and set the bags on the leaning table near the window. He stopped for a moment and the rain began to come down in sheets. He admired the view of the lake in the distance. The mountains sat behind the trees that lined the body of water like an unmovable sentry. The clouds surrounded the peak and the snow high up on the mountain was still heavy despite the summer heat. He could see rows of lights along the far side of the lake emanating from small cabins. Their chimneys spewed out gray smoke and he imagined his own family in one of those cabins, sitting around the fireplace exchanging stories. His daughter curled up in his arms as his wife put her hand through his hair. He missed them. His job was done. He felt that he had answered the calling. Whatever force led him to this moment was meant to be. His friend needed his help and he was so thankful they had made it through. He turned and looked at Jack, and underneath him was a large pool of blood, staining the cheap beige motel sheets. Anders ran over and shook Jack violently to wake him.

“Jack! Wake up!”

“Huh, what?”

“You’re bleeding man, a lot.”

He rushed back over to the table and dumped the medical supplies next to Jack. Pulling the large gauze out, he pushed them hard on his wounds. Jack arose immediately with the shock of pain and was wide awake.

“Grab me the alcohol,” Jack said frantically.

Anders handed him the bottle of Jack Daniel’s.

“No, the rubbing alcohol.”

“Oh, right.”

Jack doused the wound, gritting his teeth with the pain. “Get me the sewing kit.”

Anders pulled it out of the pile and threaded the needle for him.

“I need you to do it. I’m fading fast, I think I’m going to pass out.”

“What’s going on?” Marie said groggily.

“Jack’s bleeding, we need to stich it. Never done it before.”

“Oh no, okay, stay with me Jack, you have to tell us how to do it.”

“You just need to,” he winced in pain, “get a good chunk of meat on each side and bring it real tight. Just like –” and he passed out.

“Damn, damn, okay, I can do this.” Anders grabbed the needle and pushed it through the skin just before the nickel sized hole on the left side of his abdomen. He continued to feed it through back and forth, back and forth, until the wound was completely closed.

“It probably won’t get put into any medical journals but looks like the bleeding stopped, at least on this side. Quick, help me turn him over.”

Marie jumped over to the other side of the bed and pushed Jack over onto his stomach. The wound on the backside was far worse than the front.

“This must be where the knife went in. It’s about the size of a quarter, God, he must have dug this into him. I’m surprised he didn’t get a kidney or something.”

“Hurry up, he’s losing too much blood.”

Anders immediately began the same process as before, winding the thread back and forth across the wound. Soon, Anders was tying it off and only a small amount blood was trickling through the thread. Marie checked his pulse and it was weak.

“He needs to rest.”

Anders walked over to a chair next to the window and collapsed into it. His hands were covered in blood and he wiped his brow with his forearm.

“Never thought I would have to do that. All those years in the prison made me soft.”

“You were in prison too?”

“Guard.”

“Is that how you knew Jack? How did you even find him?”

“We were together in Vietnam. It was a lifetime ago. I recognized him in prison and only put it together a couple of days ago. It’s strange how it happened. That in the moment that he needed me most is when I had the urge to seek him out. I just wanted to catch up and maybe see if he needed my help. I never realized what I got myself into.”

“Jack worked at the prison too.”

“No, he was an inmate. Solitary confinement for eight years. He pissed somebody off. Somebody important.”

“Wait, what, what was he in there for?” Boy do I know how to pick ‘em, she thought.

“Couldn’t say for sure. There were a lot of rumors floating around about him. Some say he was some crazed murderer and that is why they put him in the hole for so long. Others say that he was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Something about helping a girl and he got into a fight with some connected guys. They trumped up the charges and his trial only lasted a couple days. Maybe the judge knew somebody or something, I don’t know, there were so many stories I lost count. I didn’t even realize it was Jack they were talking about. If I had known, then there is no way I would have believed he could have done anything like that, just randomly killing people.”

“Why, what was it about him?” Marie asked intrigued. Her mind was racing with the mystery behind Jack. Where he had come from, and if the feelings she had for him were lost on a psychopath.

“During the war he was very quiet. Always kept to himself, but we looked after each other, you know? Back then he was a different person. He was without compassion. I mean, he never hurt anyone that didn’t deserve it. But today I saw a different man. He was changed somehow. Like whatever burdens he was carrying during the war were now gone. Even the stories of the brutality in which he dealt with other prisoners don’t make sense with the man I saw today. It’s like he was renewed somehow, something was revived within him.”

“When Eli died, I thought it broke him. I’ve never seen sadness in anyone like I saw it in him.”

“Who is Eli?”

“An old man in the woods, he was a friend of Jacks.”

“I’ve never known Jack to have a friend, only people he didn’t hate.”

“I think there was a connection between them, something in that old man he recognized within himself. A glimpse of his own future.”

Jack opened his eyes and sat up against the headboard of the bed. He winced in pain but the color was beginning to come back to him.

“You guys talking about me? Hand me the alcohol, the Daniel’s this time.”

…

“Sol.”

“Yes.”

“I have a situation.”

“Yes, I heard. Mr. Grimes is dead.”

A sigh. “Yes, I know. I need you to do something for me. You will be well compensated.”

“Jack.”

“Exactly. How’d you know?”

“I watched the carnage at the mill. I saw everything.”

“Why the fuck, didn’t you do anything about it!?”

“No one told me to.”

“Well I’m telling you now. I need this thing finished. Tonight.”

“Yes, sir. And the others?”

“What others?”

“The woman and the native.”

“Improvise. I don’t want anyone to hear about what happened today. Is that clear enough?”

“Yes, sir.”