After and Again (23 page)

  “It’s good to see that you are all right,” Andy Gross said, “but I have a lot to do, there are a lot of folks that need attending to, and a lot to be done….Zack, thank you for saving my life, and the lives of everyone else.”

With that, Andy Gross turned and left the room.

  “I have to go.” Zack said, standing up. “Tal, will you watch out for Max?”

  “Ha ha, maybe you should have ‘im watch out for me,” Tal said with a smile that quickly faded into seriousness. “Of course I will.”

  “I missed Trask, after you hit him with the shotgun I shot at him again an’ missed. I’m no good with that thing, I think I hit half of what I shot at, anyway, he got away again, I’m sorry, Zack.”

  “You don’t have anything to say you’re sorry for, Tal, you saved my life, and maybe Max’s too. You stay here and rest up, I’ll see you back at Payne’s Station when I can,” Zack walked over to the chair, leaned down, and embraced Tal Miller.

   “Good luck, Zack,” Tal whispered in his ear, weeping openly. “I love ya like my own family.”

  “I love you too, Tal, you take care,” Zack stood and walked over to Max and crouched down in front of the wounded animal. He wrapped his arms around him and buried his face in his fur. I’ll see you soon big fella.”

Max licked Zack’s face and made clean streaks in the soot there.

  Zack walked downstairs with the rifle in his hand, wishing that he hadn’t left the scabbard Toby Martin had given him at the stable with the saddle. He assumed that both the scabbard and the saddle were so much ash now. Tal had even tried to talk him into taking the shotgun but Zack had refused.

  He entered the common room; every single table was full, and there were even people sitting against the walls, he even saw quite a few boys his age. Apparently the men hadn’t been taking them or these had managed to hide. There was a great deal of commotion; women and children crying mostly, but some animated conversation, and even some arguing. The noise level dropped off easily by half when Zack walked in. He started for the front door, thinking about Grace, and whether or not he would be able to find her, when someone started clapping. Soon others joined in, and before long most of the room was applauding the young man who saved their lives.

  Zack felt awkward and smiled, but kept moving. He really didn’t want to get delayed with these people. He had almost made the door when Buck Peterson, the stableman, approached him.

  “Some of us would like to come with ya, Zack….that is we assume that yer going after yer girl?”

  “Yes, I am,” Zack said, waiting for more.

  “My wife got took, and some other men’s wives, and kids. Tal said that there’s a good chance that they’re all together, along with your girl….”

  “Emily,” Zack said.

  “Right, Emily,” Buck said, sounding embarrassed.

  “Have you seen my horse? And do you and the others have horses?”

  “Oh yes, we have yer horse, and plenty of others as well. We put ‘em all in the corral behind the stable once it burned out and we could collect ‘em. Renny Falwell rode out to his ranch and brought out some more too. And hey, that darn fool Ernest Platt….the one that almost got bit by yer wolf? Ran his big butt into the stable after Andy Gross an’ his man Fredrick pulled you out an’ grabbed up your saddle and rifle scabbard. He was in the stable with me before I closed up last night admirin’ that scabbard an’ told me how he almost got himself chewed up fer lookin at it…..here I am talking too much, well anyway, will you have us?” He looked at Zack hopefully.

  “Sure,” Zack said, “but we have to go.”

20

  Trask had stopped by a lake about three hours after leaving the wagon. He lifted Emily from the horse, set her down and pulled out his long knife. Emily steeled herself against what was to come, all hope lost. Trask must have seen something in her expression because he laughed heartily. “No such luck for you, now go gather up some dry branches; small ones mind you.”

  He lit a small fire and stuck the long knife in it. After a few minutes he took it out, walked over to the lake and cleaned off the soot. He walked over to where Emily was and stripped all the way down to his undershorts. Emily looked wary again and he handed her the knife. “Don’t you be getting any ideas, you might be able to stick me once, but once is all that you would get.” You’re going to dig out all of these pellets….carefully.”

  He sat down and gave her a look that said “any time now,” she moved over next to him and had to fight off her revulsion to touching his skin.

  “I don’t know why you want me to bother, your face is so infected that you’re just going to die anyway.”

Trask’s face darkened slightly but he simply said, “Proceed.”

  Grace came running when Zack called, obviously glad to see him, and she seemed okay despite inhaling all of the smoke. He was surprised at how many men were going with him; he counted fifteen preparing horses, and most were carrying bows, some had clubs.

  They walked the horses to the road along with a string of extras and Zack got a good look at the whole town. It was not as bad as Payne’s Station, but it was close. There were still quite a few buildings on the east side of the road that were not burned, but it would still take a long time and a lot of work to rebuild Auburn.

  They overtook the wagon only two hours later. It was in the middle of the road with a broken wheel, it appeared that they were trying to repair it before they realized that the approaching riders were not theirs. The men had all abandoned the wagon before Zack and the others reached it, and Zack somehow knew, before he even reigned in Grace at the front of the wagon, that Emily was not among the women in the cage.

  Zack dismounted hopeful although his heart had told him exactly what he would find. He asked only one question of the women in the cage. Had Emily been there? The reply had been yes, and it was of course Trask who had taken her.

  The key was located on a hook by where the driver sat and he tossed it to Buck. “I guess I’ll be going,” Zack said. Buck kicked at the dirt a little, and the other men were all looking elsewhere; in the cage, at their feet, the horizon.

   “We’re all real grateful to you, Zack.” Buck said, cutting a horse out of the string and trying to hand the reigns to Zack. “But we all got families to tend to, and a town to rebuild….we’re awful grateful….”

  “Thanks, but I don’t want your horse, Buck.” Zack said, mounting Grace. “Good luck all of you.” Zack urged the mare on.

  The landscape was a great deal different than anywhere around Payne’s Station. It was all steep hills dropping to small valleys, well treed with huge oaks, sycamores and pines. Not enough that Zack would call it a forest, but there was a lot more growing here than the foothills around his home. He had already crossed two rivers—or two branches of the same one—over identical wooden bridges since leaving Auburn the previous day.

  Zack was lonely; lonely to his very soul. He had always liked being alone and was truly comfortable with his own company, but this was not the same. His mom was lost somewhere that he couldn’t follow, Emily was in the hands of the worst sort of madman imaginable, the Martins, Tal….Max. He wondered if it would’ve been better to go with Holly Sanderson and the Goodmans to the time-rip. It was starting to look like they would reach it before he caught up with Emily.

  He was hungry. In his haste to leave he hadn’t thought to ask Andy Gross for something to take with him. It was just after noon and he hadn’t eaten anything since dinner at the inn, the night before last—unless he counted the chewing gum that he had chewed on for awhile. Thankfully he had passed plenty of water on the way. His canteen had been near empty as well.

  He was riding at a trot, no longer believing that he was going to catch Trask. He had to go to The Crack; wherever and whatever The Crack
was. That was where Trask was taking Emily. Why, he didn’t know, but he intended to find out.

  He spotted the crossroads before he saw the sign. There was a pass in the hills to the right and another on the left. There was a carved wooden sign on the side that veered right; it read,

HERALD’S FORD

40 mi.

Zack halted Grace and jumped off. He walked up to the very place where the two roads made a V, fell to his knees, and wept. All of his loneliness, and pain, and loss, came pouring out right there in the pale brown dust of the road. He couldn’t go on, it was too much. He let himself fall face first in the dirt.

  He heard his father speak from behind him. “I raised a weakling, is that it? Look at you, Zack, lying in the dirt weeping like a day old babe. So you’re just going to leave Emily? You’re going to forget about your mom, and your friends because you can’t remember how to track a deer? Piss on you, I taught you better than that.”

  “BUT YOU LEFT
ME
!” Zack screamed, turning around. But there was of course, no one there.

  Zack McQueen stood up and brushed the dust from his shirt and trousers. He looked right toward Herald’s Ford; the road was well traveled, but probably not in the last several days. He looked left; not as well traveled, weeds were growing here and there in the middle of it, but quite a few horses had passed on it, some weeds were smashed and the tracks were still nice and deep. Zack mounted Grace and started up the left fork in the road.

  Zack spitted what was left of the rabbit on an oak branch and positioned it above the fire. It had been two days since the crossroads and he’d been able to find game pretty easily. He had shot a small turkey the previous night and was a bit taken aback to see how much of it the rifle shot had destroyed. The same thing had happened with the rabbit, but he really didn’t want to take anything larger than that. He’d seen several deer, and even a pig with some young, but he was only one and didn’t want to kill just to waste most of it.

  He had practiced with both the rifle and the pistol the last two nights before dinner and was getting a little better with both, especially the rifle. He could hit eight out of ten targets now. The pistol was proving a bit more difficult, mostly he thought because the six-shooter was so heavy.

  Emily had overheard a man telling Frank Olsen that The Crack was two hundred miles from where they’d been camped at the pass. If that was really the case then he should be getting close, maybe two or three more days.

And then what? He didn’t know. He guessed that he would see when he got there.

  Three days later the track—he really couldn’t call it a road anymore—cut a tight left through a pass in the hills, turning him from what had been a fairly consistent northwesterly path to one that was almost due west. It dropped down rapidly and opened up into a high valley; “There it is, Grace,” he said to the mare. “Has to be.”

  He stopped at the severe bend overlooking the valley and dismounted. There was nothing to obscure his view and had it been under other circumstances the scene might have left him breathless with its beauty.

  It wasn’t however, under
other
circumstances and he gave the valley only a cursory glance.

  His attention was drawn to a large building at the left side of the valley, at the foot of the hills. It appeared to be constructed of some sort of masonry or gray brick and its roof was made of some shiny black material that reflected the sun. There were other buildings; smaller and made of wood, scattered around the area, maybe houses, as well as a huge horse corral, wagons, and various things that all looked like machinery of some kind. He could see people moving about, and there was smoke coming from some of the buildings. Emily was down there somewhere.

  He decided that the best course of action—much like when he’d rescued the women at the pass—was to get as close as he could without being seen, assess the situation, and then move in after dark. He looked at Grace and was unsure of what to do with the mare as he knew that there was a real possibility that he’d be killed. He thought of Holly Sanderson and the time-rip and hoped that she and the Goodmans would make it. Maybe she was right all along.

  He got back on Grace and headed down the wagon track. There were still a lot of trees along the hillside and he was reasonable well hidden for the next hour. Soon though, the trees cleared again where the path took another turn—this time to the right, and appeared to make a straight trajectory to the village, or whatever it was….he didn’t see any reason why it would be named The Crack though.

  There was another wooden sign just before the corner, it read;

Abandon Hope All Ye Who

Enter Here

  Zack stood staring at the sign, unlike the one announcing Herald’s Ford, which had been carved, this one had been painted in black letters; a long time ago from the looks. The way that it was worded was strange, but the meaning was clear and Zack felt more uneasy than ever.

  He worked his way up the hillside where the trees were thicker and looked for a place to lay up for the rest of the day. The spot presented itself in the form a gully carved out of the hillside, possibly an old landslide from a previous heavy winter. If anyone came from either direction on the wagon track, they would be unable to see him or Grace.