Absolution River (17 page)

Jack struggled to his feet and ran out the side door. Nothing. Only the heavy rain coming down over Jack’s long hair almost entirely covering his face. He scanned the woods surrounding the house while thunder rumbled in the distance.

“Marie!”

Nothing.

“Marie!”

She was gone in a blink. Jack scrambled to the back of the house in the thicket of trees, screaming her name. Panic filled him with the prospect that he may lose her forever, that her fate was once again at the hands of a madman and there was little he could do.

“Marie!”

“Jack! Jack!”

He ran through the woods in her direction. The sound was muffled by the wind and rain. The pine trees, standing like sentinels in the night, swayed violently in the storm.

“Marie!

Nothing.

There was a flash of lightning and he could see off in the distance Marie struggling in the arms of the madman. He raced to her as the man holding her fired wildly in his direction. Completely disregarding the bullets streaming by his face, he ran boldly in her direction. He flanked around to the right, trying to gain elevation on them, running almost blind in the darkness, tripping over rocks and downed trees. The pain in his side was numb with adrenaline. He was gaining on them and the madman continued to fire in his direction, stopping only to reload.

Thirty feet up and over them Jack looked down among the pines. He jumped down rocks and hopped over stumps, racing to her, to save her at any cost.
Just need to live long enough.
The madman turned with Marie’s head right next to his. The silencer of the pistol burned into her face. She screamed as the red-hot barrel made a permanent imprint on her cheek.

“Stop! You’re hurting her!”

“I am, aren’t I. Would you look at that.”

The man wore olive drab fatigue bottoms with black leather combat boots. His hair was black and long, matted down almost to his eyes. Along his cheek was a long deep scar that went to his mouth, leaving his teeth partially exposed even with his mouth closed. The darkness of his eyes was penetrating. His black leather gloves tight around the grip of the pistol.

“So we finally meet.”

“Let her go! You can take me!”

“How noble, my friend. But you see I’m here for all of you. You pissed off some very important people. Lots of money lost. Someone has to pay.”

Jack was at a loss; there was no negotiating with this man.

“Well, time to die.” The man aimed his pistol up to Jack’s chest. The rain beat down on the gunmetal and steam rose from the barrel with every drop.

Marie elbowed the madman in the stomach and he immediately lurched forward. He was stunned for only a moment and collected himself. Marie dove off to the side.

“I’ll deal with you in a second,” the shooter said glaring at Marie.

The killer raised his pistol to Jack but it was too late for him. Jack had the revolver sighted in and put two into his chest. Sol stood there with the weapon still up. It went limp in his hand and dropped into the mud at his feet. Through the smoke from the barrel of Jack’s revolver he could see the man drop to his knees and face plant right into the mud.

“Marie!”

“I’m okay Jack, I’m okay.” He put her face between his hands and put his head to hers.

“Oh thank God, I don’t know what I would have done.”

They sat there a moment, embracing each other. Both trembled from the cold and exhaustion. Jack heard the man roll over and in his hand was a small pistol. The shot rang out and whizzed right by Jack’s face. Jack grabbed the man’s hand and broke it instantly. Sol dropped it and screamed in pain as the back of his hand was touching his forearm. The bones in his arm stuck out through the skin. Jack put his knee on the man’s chest, pushing down on the bullet wounds causing the air to leave the holes.

“Who do you work for!”

“I ain’t telling you shit, man.”

Jack stuck two of his fingers into Sol’s bullet holes, “You are going to tell me right now.”

“Jack!” Marie screamed in shock.

“This is never going to end Marie, I need to know who.”

Jack continued to stick his fingers deeper into the gaping wounds and the man screamed in agony. A sound that could be heard across the lake as it echoed across the water.

“Coolidge!” Sol screamed. “His name is Coolidge!”

“Who is he?” Jack thrust his fingers deeper.

“A congressman, a congressman!”

Jack released and Sol went limp onto the ground. The mud all around him was no longer from rain, but from his hemorrhaging wounds. Jack moved off of Sol and sat down next to Marie. He leaned against the tree and looked up to the swaying trees. The rain fell on his face, washing away the sweat.

“You were there, weren’t you man.” Sol said quietly with a stone face. “I can see it in you.”

Jack just looked at him as he saw the wild look in the man’s eyes fade. The eyes closed slightly and then the light disappeared from the icy stare. Looking at Jack now was just the shell of a man, with a soul that left this world to the outer darkness, alone.

Marie’s head leaned on Jack and they both closed their eyes, sitting there in the rain, the endorphins raging through their bodies demanding sleep. They could not even feel the cold, or the numerous wounds they suffered during their ordeal. There was only the patter of the rain on the muddy ground and the soft breathing they felt from each other. Jack groaned as he lifted himself to his feet and put his hand out for Marie’s. Their hands met and every joint in her body screamed as she was raised up next to Jack. They could feel the heat from each other’s body and the warmth felt like a piece of home.

“Anders.” said Marie softly as she clung to Jack’s strength.

“Better check on him.” Neither moved, savoring their moment in the quiet, grasping at every second. Jack turned and put Marie’s good arm over his shoulder, her other went limp. The shred of cloth holding her forearm together soaked in blood.

“I recognized that man. He was a cashier at a gas station I stopped at.”

“Did you remember to pay for the gas?”

Marie laughed and then began to cough. “Stop, it hurts to laugh.”

Jack grinned and they began to move back to the small house at the bottom of the hill. Their friend was waiting for them. Stopping for a moment, they looked back at the man on the ground. He was sprawled out, his eyes gaping at the sky. Searching for something that would forever elude him. They both turned and looked at each other and began limping, struggling as they went.

“Anders!” Jack yelled as he walked through the side door. He could see him standing in the living room in the dark, lowering the shotgun.

“Oh man, I almost shot you, Jack.”

“Relax, let’s get out of here.”

As they exited the front door they could see a dozen red and blue lights swirling in the distance across the lake, swarming the motel.

“About damn time.” Anders said as they all helped each other to the beach.

“Better late than never,” replied Marie.

…

The agent wore the typical agent garb. Black suit pants, dark tie, and a blue jacket with the letters FBI stamped over the left lapel. As he approached the beach just past the motel he could see three individuals who looked like they were refugees fleeing a war-torn country.

“Freeze, don’t move!” shouted the agent as he cautiously lifted his sidearm.

“We’re unarmed!” Jack yelled as he put his hands up. Marie and Anders collapsed on the ground and Jack soon followed them. Going to his knees with one hand catching his fall and the other grasping the now gaping hole in his side, he finally collapsed onto his back. His eyes became heavy and it was time he thought, to let go. Not for good, but just for now. As he drifted into unconsciousness he could hear the agent yell for the medics.

“We’ve got three down! Send the EMT!” Jack’s hand dropped to the ground and he grasped Marie’s and she grasped it back. The exhaustion overtook him and he faded into the darkness.

XXVIII

Jack awoke in the intensive care unit. Tubes were going in and out of him all over his body. The steady beep of his pulse was just barely audible on the EKG. His eyes were difficult to open and he could only make out two silhouettes through his foggy vision.

“Jack? We’re here Jack,” Marie said softly into his ear as she grasped his hand. He could feel someone grasping his other, and it was Anders.

“We’re here buddy, you doin’ okay?”

Jack nodded ever so slightly and shook his head to kick the grogginess from the sedatives.

Anders said, “You’re gonna be fine, they just have you here as a precaution. You lost a lot of blood.”

Jack struggled to speak, “How, how long?”

“You’ve been out two days man, like a rock. They said you were in a kind of coma. Your body just shut down.”

Jack became alert and sat straight up. The adrenaline once again began to flow as he ripped out the IV and the heart monitor patches. The EKG went flat-line and the coding alarm went off. Nurses began to rush into the room and hold him down as they injected another dose of sedatives straight into his arm.

“It’s not over,” Jack mumbled. “It’s not over.”

“It’s over Jack, just rest, you need to rest.” Marie said as she put her hand on his chest.

“Coolidge,” Jack said as he fell back into a deep sleep.

…

The house was beautiful. Nothing from the pages of the Home and Garden magazine, but it was theirs. The fence surrounding the blue farmhouse was white and in front there were two cattle dogs herding each other in the large, mowed front yard. Along the front of the house was a large patio painted entirely white. There was one of those chairs elevated by chain swinging in the wind. Jack and Marie looked across the yard and saw two small children, a girl and a boy, playing with the dogs, being herded around like little cows by the dogs. Their laughter was loud and happy. Living in a dream they made for themselves. Jack looked at them and then at Marie. He smiled, took a sip of the lemonade his wife had prepared for them, and savored the sour sweetness in the hot Montana summer. Closing his eyes, he could feel the breeze on his face and the wind blowing the large pines that lined the east side of the house. A few cars drove by the front and he would wave as if playing a role he never imagined. The happiness he felt was from that of a storybook, an ending that could only be found in a dream. In the distance he could see a large black SUV pull up to the end of the driveway. The road leading up to the house was a hundred yards and made of dirt. The back window rolled down and there was nothing but darkness inside of the cab. A rifle poked out and immediately a shot rang out. He went to the ground immediately but it was too late, too late for Marie. The bullet struck her lemonade glass and impacted directly into her chest. She looked down at the small red dot that became larger and larger. She then gazed down at Jack and smiled. Her head went limp with her chin resting on her chest.

“No!” Jack yelled as he awoke in the hospital bedroom. Rain was beating hard against the window and flashes of lighting filled the dark room. He sat up straight and put his hand to his head, realizing that it was a dream. His heart beat fast, like a drum in a Native American ceremonial dance. Sweat poured down his brow. Anger was building deep from within him.

“It’s not over.”

He ripped the IV from his arm and jumped out of the bed. The screen of the EKG machine went black as Jack unplugged it so as not to alert the nurses. He scrambled around the closet next to the bed and found his old ragged clothes. They were black with dried blood and nearly ripped to shreds. Putting on the moccasins he got from Eli, he quietly looked out the door of the room. Left then right. Nothing. There were hardly any staff on duty and Marie and Anders were nowhere to be found. Must be late. Looking to his right, the hallway was black, illuminated only by the red of the exit signs every twenty feet. He was extremely weak, but someone with better hands than his friend closed his wound and he hoped they would hold for what he had to do. Just before the stairway was a hallway where he could hear voices. Glancing around the corner, he saw Marie talking with one of the nurses, pleading with her to be allowed to stay through the night. He wanted to see her so badly, but she would stop him. Implore him to stay and let the authorities take care of it. There was no way this was possible. Coolidge was too powerful. He would be above the law, outside of their reach. He tiptoed across the hallway intersection and slowly opened the door to the stairway. Climbing down three flights of stairs, looking down the gap between them for anyone who may be approaching, he found a rear exit out of the hospital. Alarm will sound was emblazed across the door. No choice
.
The sound was deafening and the rain thick. He was instantly wet. His bandage soaked through almost immediately and he began to run as fast as his body would allow. Each pump of his arm pulled harder and harder on the stitches.

I have to do this, he thought.

It’s the only way she’ll be safe.

As he ran through the rain, through the parking lot and into the woods, across the busy street, his mind also ran. Thinking of Eli, what he promised to him. How he was going to show him that he was different. What option do I have, he thought. He would not run like his father ran. It was time to stand and finish what he started. Time to bring justice where there was no justice. In a world where evil men ran free, inflicting pain on the weak. No more.

The forest was thick and dark. The branches of the trees cut into his face and hands as he ran boldly through them. He stopped to catch his breath and looked down at his stomach. The blood had already started to bleed through the rain soaked bandage. Up ahead he could see a gas station. The lights filled the void between the trees, and it was his only chance. On the outskirts of the woods just behind the main building of the gas station he saw a station wagon pull up. The man got out and began to pump. Soon he went into the station to pay, and Jack ran up into the vehicle. Jack pulled the panel below the steering wheel and revealed a yellow and brown wire. Striking the two together, the wires sparked and then the engine roared. Slamming the gear into drive, he pulled out of the station slowly and once he hit the interstate he put the pedal to the floor and was flying at over a hundred miles an hour.

How am I going to find him? Think Jack, think.

Whether it was fate, providence, or sheer damn luck, a highway billboard came into view after only a few miles.

“Working Hard to Get Montana Working!” was written in large blue letters along the top of the board. A gleaming smile and an expensive suit filled the remaining space and along the bottom, “HELP THE CAUSE! VOLUNTEER!” Next to it was a number.

Gotcha.

Jack eyed a pay phone along the highway and braked hard, skidding the back of the boat-sized station wagon around. He pulled next to it and ran around the front of the car.

“Calling collect sir, you must really want to volunteer. This is the office of Congressman Coolidge, how would you like to help the cause?” replied a woman on the other end.

“Yes, I just really believe in what the congressman says about getting to work. How much he is willing to do. I’d really like to meet him,” Jack said, putting on the charm as well as he could in this situation, trying to control his frantic breathing.

“Well, sir, the congressman is a very busy man-”

“Oh yes I’m sure he is, it would just really mean a lot.”

“He is out of town on vacation now at his cabin near Lake Macdonald, he’ll be back next week. Can I sign you up and get a volunteer commitment from you?”

“Absolutely!” and Jack hung up the phone.

…

The house wasn’t difficult to find. Especially after asking every convenience store around the lake. Jack parked the station wagon half a mile from the house and went on foot.

I am totally unprepared for this.

Any moment Coolidge could send another hitman for him, and worse, for Marie. As he hiked up the forested hill in the rain above the extravagant cabin along the lake, he thought about his dream. A dream he had never had before about anyone. The perplexing ramifications of that life intrigued him. Never in his life would he ever have thought about settling down, subjecting a person to the pain he experienced in his life. There were so many changes in that last couple of weeks and it brought on so much confusion. What would he do after this? If there was an after this. He was going in blind to a man probably guarded by several highly trained men with a gaping abdominal wound and no weapons. In addition, his overactive consciousness born of his awakening with Eli blocked his savagery. The animal instincts he needed to survive in combat. He felt as if only a man, a man that wanted, no, needed to be with Marie. Have children with her, love her and start a life together. The sins of his father no longer ruled his actions. All his life since the day his father left he had been a lone wolf, running from connection, simply living a life to live it with no real purpose. Doing what he had to do to survive, to forget being abandoned, tossed aside by the only family he had. Those days were over. Eli brought it out of him. Saved him from the depths of his soul just as he saved him from the depths of the raging floodwaters that cold rainy night all those weeks ago. A gesture at the time he hated. He was ready to leave this world. Rejection and abandonment had taken their toll and he was ready, so ready. The life Eli brought to him, the realization that all men face choices in life. The choice to stand firm in the righteous or turn and tuck tail at the first sign of adversity was no longer a difficult one. Sure, he had always faced danger in the jungles of Vietnam or within the isolated rock of the prison, but he was dead to it. He never accepted the pain, but in that he could also not feel the joy. Staying neutral was his defense mechanism. No more. Not now and not ever. He was renewed, forged in the furnace of fear and isolation and rising above with a new found respect for life and what it offered. Eli and Marie showed him that it was possible, that anything was possible. The man, the man at the center of his last greatest tragedy must atone for his sins.

The congressman’s fortress was isolated among the dark pines of the wilderness. Warm light exploded out of the numerous windows and fell into the blackness surrounding it. Two hundred feet out, Jack sat still, listening, observing, waiting. He scraped his weary, cut hands into the soft mud and covered his face and hands with it. The reflection of the moon was bright and the reflection off of his skin would be enough to give his position away. In the distance he could hear two men on the southwest corner of the cabin smoking and chatting. They were laughing and joking about some girls they met the night before. There was only one SUV in the front of the cabin, black, maybe fifty feet in front of the main entrance. The driveway was dirt and narrow and the light color of the gravel reflected the moon’s brilliance, giving it a silver glow. The cabin was large and rustic. From what he could tell it was two levels with the main having vaulted ceilings of at least forty feet. Through the rear window he could see through the kitchen and into the living room. The congressman sat in an oversized leather chair. His feet were propped up on a matching ottoman. All he could see was the thin balding top of his head and his left hand holding a drink. The room was filled with the golden light of a grand fireplace large enough to park a car. Even from his position up the hill he could hear opera music blasting, and the sound must’ve been deafening in the house. Perfect.

The two men were large, each wearing black suits. Their leather-gloved hands wrapped around silenced sub-machine guns casually held to their sides. The odor from their chain smoking was pungent in the air and Jack smelled it before he even saw them. Undisciplined. This would help a great deal.

Slowly Jack crouched and weaved in and out of the trees. The rear end of the cabin butted up against the thick forest and there would be plenty of cover between him and the two targets. Alive, keep them alive. He was no longer a killer. Remember that, Jack. The shorter and stockier of the two threw his cigarette down on the ground and stomped it out with his black tactical boot. He turned and Jack froze in his spot. The man stopped and stared into the woods and it seemed for a moment that he and Jack locked eyes. But that was not the case. The guard moved around the corner, moving east along the back of the cabin. The other guard stood still, throwing his cigarette onto the ground, pulling another and lighting it immediately. The guard turned around and faced the lake. My chance. Jack emerged from the heavily wooded trees and kept low below the windows that lined the back of the cabin. His movement was swift. With two hands clasped into a ball, Jack came down hard on the back of the man’s head and he collapsed to the ground. The sub-machine gun was attached to the guard and it was coming down hard too. Jack instinctually moved to grab it before it landed and he clutched the handle inches before it crashed into the gravel. Jack took the weapon off of the guard and checked to make sure he was going to be out for a while. Pulse was good, out cold. Staying low, he heard the other guard’s whistling from around the corner of the rear of the cabin and he was within a few feet. His breathing controlled, waiting, waiting, closer and closer the footsteps came. The whistling became louder and louder. The stocky guard’s head came into view and the last thing he saw was the butt of a machine gun flying toward his face. He went down hard, falling back, his weapon striking the ground next to him. Jack paused for a moment and peered into the rear window to see if the noise was heard, nothing. He slung his weapon around his back and picked up the other. Moving his way towards the rear entrance of the cabin he checked the handle. Unlocked. The door handle turned easily and there was a very low creak as the door was pulled open. Jack slid himself in through the opening and quietly closed the door. There might be other guards. Could be half a dozen just waiting around the corner. They could all be sitting in a side room waiting for Jack to walk in and he would have no choice but to return fire, probably getting killed in the process. Sweat poured down the side of his muddy face as all the possibilities ran through his mind. None of them came to fruition. There was nobody in the house. Kitchen–clear. Hallway–clear. Jack sat in the dark, waiting for someone to come. The loud music changed tune and now there was only the sound of an ominous violin playing a quiet solemn tune. The minutes passed as he could hear the ice in the glass of the congressman shift around as he continued to take several sips of the amber liquor. There would be no one coming. From his position in the dark hallway leading to the living room with the congressman he could hear him get up and fix himself another drink. Standing over the drink cart across the room.