Hellbender (Murder Ballads and Whiskey Book 2) (8 page)

After the incident with Darren, the party moved into the parking lot then broke up altogether. I wanted it to last forever, because I was afraid of not being able to protect Alex on my own. So I drove her back up past Baughman Rock overlook to where we’d camped last night. Adrenaline and fear had us pretty wired.

The wet air became heavier with dew as we ascended Sugarloaf Mountain. I parked, gathered some things from the Jeep, and led Alex into the dark. The short, rocky trail from the parking lot to the overlook was difficult to negotiate by starlight alone, but somehow we managed. After a few minutes of walking we stepped onto the big rock ledge. The wide-open view was stunning. I spread out a foam backpacking pad and my sleeping bag.

A swarm of stars blistered the dark sky. Crickets and cicadas sang, raising a chorus that pushed tomorrow morning away even further. There were no headlights on the road behind us, no trains on the tracks below. Only the rock, the stars and us. And way up above, like a white road straight to heaven, was the Milky Way.

Alex rested her head on my shoulder. I wanted to kiss her. “You saved that man,” Alex whispered.

“I guess I did.” The incident at Dimple Rock felt like a thousand years ago. “It’s a sign,” she looked up at me.

“A sign of what?” I asked, not really wanting an answer. “It’s a sign you were meant to protect me.”

I shook my head.

She said, “My mom said nobody could hurt me with you because y’all are protected.”

I didn’t want to say anything to her, because the day seemed to be ending on an upswing. Hiding out here behind a wall of trees on a fortress of rocks felt like a retreat, but not a loss. My mind could plan instead of just react. But I couldn’t think about tomorrow or a way out, and one thought ran through my head over and over—
If we’re so well-protected, how the fuck did Jane end up dead?

THREE

Birdsong filled the morning air. The night had been far too short. My senses were still partially deadened by alcohol. Despite my best efforts to block it out, sunlight streamed through my closed eyelids. Already awake, Alex waited for me in a fleece and shorts, barefoot and cross-legged on the edge of the rock. She spied me peeking from beneath the covers.

      “Morning,” she said. And before I could even get a sense of where I was or what I was doing here, she added, “Bluebirds.”

       I rubbed my eyes and tried to see where she was pointing.

“Daddy called me Little Bluebird because I did a report on them in third grade and became obsessed. Like, I would only drink blueberry Slushies and eat blueberry pancakes. There really aren’t that many blue foods, you know, so I gave it up pretty fast.” She suddenly got very earnest, and said, “We going for pancakes?”

I sat up. My back hurt from sleeping on the rock. I thought we could share the sleeping pad, but Alex, apparently, needed many more square feet than I did. “The perfect cure for a hangover,” I said, mostly to myself.

But it wasn’t the booze, or the rock or the emotional strain of yesterday that made my head spin half as much as the Lewises and the real threat they posed. Yesterday I thought I could hide forever. This morning, I now knew, they were going to force a fight. I had to call Katy as soon as I got off the river.

Back down the mountain, I parked on Grant Street near the outfitter but far from the playground where the rest of the guides parked, so I could take Alex to the state park change house to freshen up. There were showers in there, sinks, mirrors— everything a girl needed to be civilized. I sat in the back of the Jeep and waited. The persistent sun, halfway between rising and noon, stole last night’s coolness little by little. It was going to be a beautiful day.

Town was much busier today than it was yesterday. Out-of-state plates clogged the side streets, ignoring NO PARKING signs. A big RV stopped at the intersection and refused to budge, like a cow on its way to a slaughterhouse. The sound of inflators at the put-in drowned out most of the other sounds. A group of kids from a church group played Frisbee on the big lawn between a row of outfitters and the put- in. Traffic backed up behind the RV, horns blared their disapproval. I kept hoping the Frisbee would end up on the road.

Alex came out looking much fresher, and kind of sad. She’d changed clothes, and carried my fleece jacket that she’d worn to sleep last night. I sat up in the back of the Jeep and smiled at her. She stopped and looked both ways before crossing Sugarloaf Road, even though nothing was coming. She saw me, and tried to smile back.

“All better?” I said.

She smelled my jacket before tossing it back to me. “What do you think?” “Don’t know. Just trying to help, though.” Her tone knocked me down a peg. She pulled her hair back into a ponytail and said, “I know. If you’re getting tired

of me, Smurf said he’d treat me right.” She crossed her arms.

“Alex, we’re going to take care of you. As soon as we’re done today I’ll call my cousin and let her know what’s up. I promise. Then we’ll head down and get you settled in.” I got to my feet and tried to touch her elbow. “I’m off tomorrow. Thought we could wait until then, but after last night with Darren…”

“So, you’re just going to drop me off?”

“Alex…” I wasn’t clever enough to talk my way out of the situation. I watched the RV surrender to the will of the majority and move along, then followed her around the Jeep. “You’ll be safer down there. Trust me.”

“And you’re going to just go back to work? Right now you are the only person I trust.” Alex slid into the driver’s seat and commandeered the rear-view mirror for beautification purposes. I watched her reflection but couldn’t see her expression. I hoped she was smiling. I knew she wasn’t. Her blue eyes were a shade closer to the color of the river than they were this time yesterday.

She said, “My mom specifically said I had to stay with you.”

“I thought ‘you’ was a collective ‘you’ meaning me or my family.” I leaned against the roll bar.

“No, Henry, that’s not at all what I meant.” She pulled the door shut and locked it jokingly, then returned to the rear-view mirror.

“Alex, let me just say this…” In my mind I tried to think of all the things she’d want to hear in this situation and ran them against all the things I wanted to say—that this Lewis thing would’ve been better handled by the cops, that all this ‘protection’ stuff was bullshit. In the end, I decided to split the difference. “You know, this idea that we can somehow protect—”

“Henry.” She froze, gripped by an unseen fear.

I tried to follow her eyes down the street but didn’t see anything unusual.

“Hey asshole!” A quivering voice from behind me shouted like a puppy not yet ready to bark.

I turned around.

The smell of Billy Lewis hit me a second before Billy Lewis did. Fishing bait and body odor filled my nose, but the scent of the blood that followed washed it right away. My blood.

“Henry!” Alex yelled.

“Alex, start the Jeep.” Blood dripped into my cupped hand as I regained my composure and faced him. Shaggy, copper hair stuck out from under his ball cap like hay from a loosely wrapped bale. Freckles made him look like he was twelve instead of twenty-three.

But he wouldn’t look me in the eye. Even the reinforcement he’d brought didn’t look entirely committed to Billy’s ambush. The lanky kid lingered near the old pickup’s cab. Must’ve been lower on the pay scale than Darren’s guys.

“That’s your backup?” I hit him with a quick jab that bloodied his lip before he could get another shot in. Ben always told me to go for the jaw.

After the follow-through, I knocked his hat to the ground and snatched him by the hair. I pushed him down, down, down to the pavement where he’d feel at home with the road kill and dog shit.

“Call my granddad,” Billy yelled. His compadre backed into the old Lewis Lumber Chevy and shouted into the radio.

It took me a moment to realize what had just happened. “You just bait?” “Hold him, Billy,” the other kid shouted from the cab. “They’re coming.”

I stood up, bringing Billy with me. Further down Grant Street two more trucks advanced—big red pickups with Lewis Lumber logos on the side.

“Go, Alex.” I said, stepping backward, pulling Billy with me. “Time to split mud, girl.”

Charlie ran up Sugarloaf Road toward Grant, grinding through gears and revving that big old engine. Billy’s own truck blocked the road, forcing Charlie onto the shoulder.

Down on Nedly Street, Darren threaded his truck through all the rental rafters making their way to the put-in. The church group turned and watched the commotion. Joel from Ohiopyle Trading Post cussed Darren from his big porch. Darren never once let off the horn.

“Move it, you stupid motherfuckers!” Charlie Lewis waved for Billy’s friend to move the truck. “Billy, you worthless shit! Hold ‘em!”

“Move, Alex!” With Billy still in a headlock, I got in the passenger seat. “How fast can you run, Billy?”

Alex found first gear and we rolled toward the intersection with Nedly. Billy clawed at my arms, and right before Alex found second, I let him go. He rolled in the gravel on the berm.

“Where’s your phone?” I said, still watching over my shoulder as the Lewises sorted themselves out on the street behind us.

“My phone’s packed,” Alex said. She pulled her seatbelt across her lap.

“Where?” I unzipped her smallest bag and started to poke through it. A case of beer bottles filled with old motor oil rattled as Alex hit a gigantic pothole.

“Suitcase, I think. I don’t know. You said I wouldn’t get a signal.” Hair blew across her face. She swatted at it as she slowed for the stop sign at

Garfield.

“Why are you stopping? Go!”

“Don’t yell at me!” She put the Jeep back in gear as she drifted through the intersection, still looking both ways.

“It’s fine. I’m sorry. Put it in neutral and let me drive.” I stood, like I was going to hop over the center console and switch her places.

“I can’t stop now. Look.” Squealing tires and a blaring horn made me jerk my head back around. A fourth truck, a brand new red Chevy with a Lewis Lumber logo on the side backed down Lincoln Street then pulled onto the road behind us.

“This is crazy.” She sniffed away small tears.

Charlie Lewis passed Billy’s pickup on the shoulder. Gravel flew into parked cars as he spun out. Lewis came after us without regard to tourists, kids on bikes, boaters carrying kayaks across the street.

“Shit. Just go then. Fast. Take a left up here.” I buckled my seatbelt, unable to do much more than just hang on.

Alex slowed as we got to Falls Market. People were crossing to get coffee and Clif Bars. I reached over Alex’s arm and jammed on our horn. “Fucking move!” “Henry?” Alex yelled over the wind rushing into the Jeep’s open interior. Tree branches created alternating patches of shadow and sunlight that flashed on her face as she drove. “I’m scared.”

“Faster. It’s okay. You have to gun it.” Doug, the ranger at the put-in looked over his glasses and reached for his radio as we sped past. When we crossed Meadow Run and I looked back over my shoulder. There was a big red pickup in each lane.

“Left!” I pointed and shook my finger. The RV was creeping toward the intersection with Dinner Bell Road. “Pass it.”

“You can’t yell at me anymore, okay?” She clung to steering wheel like stink to a skunk. “It’s upsetting me and—”

“And you don’t know where you’re going!”

Alex hesitated, then swung the Jeep quickly to the left. I slammed into the passenger side door. She bit her lower lip and checked the rear-view. The driver of the RV flipped her off and gave us the horn. He drifted over the center line.

The rush of wind picked up as she accelerated down a straightaway. Past the booth where guests checked-in.  Past farms where the smell of earthy manure mingled with the scent of newly cut hay in the fields. When we passed back through the forest there was only the clean breath of running water and respired oxygen. The laurels weren’t yet ready to pop, but the streams and fresh green leaves welcomed them anyway. Now they were little more than a green blur.

The rush forbade us from slowing down. Our eyes met, and for an instant we laughed at the speed. Adrenaline gave us a good little buzz. The wind tugging at my cheeks even forced a little smile from me.

“They’re gone,” she yelled over the rush.

I turned around to look. The wind changed pitch as it went from one ear to the other. But it was true, I couldn’t see them.

The engine let out a slight whir, an instantaneous pause as she dropped it from third into fourth. Too fast for windy old Dinner Bell Road.

“Do you want to take over?” she said.

“No, I don’t want to stop until we get home. Keep going.” I looked one last time, just to be sure.

“Who were all those people? They weren’t all related, were they?”

“Hell no, probably Charlie’s employees.”

“My mother warned me they were dangerous.”

Alex didn’t trust the mirror and stole a glance over her shoulder.

“You have no idea.” I watched the side-view.