Red Mountain (26 page)

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Authors: Dennis Yates

BOOK: Red Mountain
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Dr. Unger hadn’t been aware that she’d fallen asleep. When she opened her eyes she realized her headache was gone. Marco was heading toward her.

“What is it?” Unger asked. She stood up from her chair and stretched. “I couldn’t understand a single thing you said on the radio.”

As Marco got close she began to reach out to hug him before thinking better of it. Although the team knew they were sharing sleeping bags, she had to keep reminding herself to make an attempt at being circumspect. You just never knew if one of your grad students might become disgruntled for some reason and decide to make trouble for you. She’d heard plenty of nightmares from colleagues over the years.

Marco struggled to catch his breath. Unger could see his arm was bleeding through his down jacket. The other three students had rushed over to the supply locker and began pulling flashlights and heavy equipment.

“What the hell is going on? And what did you do to your arm?” Carol asked.

Marco took another step closer, his breath almost steaming against her face.

“I found a tunnel Carol. And it goes down inside the glacier. On my way out I slipped and scratched myself.”

“You aren’t supposed to be exploring any tunnels. We’ve already been in plenty of those this summer.”

“This one’s different. I saw something in the ice. I think it might be human…”

“A long lost skier perhaps?” Carol smirked. “Or a well preserved snow-boarder?”

Marco pulled off his jacket. The scratch was long but the bleeding had stopped. One of the crew came by and handed him a first aid kit and left. He unsnapped the lid and found antibiotic cream and gauze.

“All I know is that it looked human,”

“You mean you couldn’t see it very well?”
 
“The ice is a little clouded on the surface. But I think I can fix it.”

“We don’t have time for this. It’s probably just a rock or a tree that the glacier picked up a long time ago. I think you’re imagination has gotten the best of you.”

“No. It was real. The others believe me and we’re going back today.”

Carol couldn’t believe it. Not only was Harold trying to end her research trip early but now the team she’d brought up was going to mutiny on her.

“Are you forgetting what we’re here for? We still have tons of work to finish before we can leave. You’ve got to call this off, Marco. This is a ridiculous waste of time…”

Marco tied off a gauze bandage and looked up at her, grinning. “Then think of it as a chance to have a little fun for a change.”

Carol watched as Marco slid his hand inside his coat pocket and came out with something flashing between his closed fingers.

“Catch!” Marco said. He flipped a gold object up into the sunlight. When it came down Carol reached out and caught it. She was surprised by what she saw. The gold piece looked old, over a hundred years at least.
What could something like this be worth?

 
“Where did you find this?” She asked, fearing the answer she already knew was coming.

 
“In the tunnel I was telling you about. I don’t think anyone has been down there for a long time. I think the entrance must have been sealed until just recently. If you hurry up and get your gear we can make it back up there in an hour.”

Dr. Unger stood silent for a moment, her mind trying to right itself again as she stared in awe at the coin in her hand. Not far away she could hear members of the team having a good chuckle. When she glanced up at them they looked away.

“I’ll have no choice but to fail you,” she shouted. But she knew her threat was useless. The team was ignoring her now. They had bigger things on their minds.

This is nuts, she thought. Who would have thought this could happen? Dr. Unger turned her gaze to the glacier looming above them.

The patient might be dying, but she still has many surprises up her sleeve…

 
Carol held the coin up to the sun one last time before handing it back to Marco.

“So you’re saying there are more of these?”

“I sure hope so,” Marco said. He pressed his lips against the coin like some crazed prospector from the past.

 

 

 

CHAPTER 52

 

 

Robert closed Stick’s dead eyes and found a blanket to cover him with. There wasn’t any time to wait for the ambulance to arrive. They got in the truck and Will stepped on the gas. Fifteen minutes later they were rolling down a dusty road to the front of Wilbur’s house.

The house looked closed up and the curtains were drawn. Robert wondered if Stick had been right about where Peggy and the others had fled from Marsh. Perhaps the neighbors were out of town, leaving Peggy to decide whether they should find another household that could help them.

But she would have checked to see if they had a phone first. Even if that entailed putting a rock through the front window so she could get inside.

She’d left no signs of stopping here. At least so far he hadn’t noticed any. Everything appeared to be in its place.

The porch was deeply shaded, surrounded by waist-high planter boxes overflowing with flowering plants. A wooden loveseat squeaked back and forth in the breeze and an occasional gust of wind caused it to thump against the house.

“I don’t like this,” Will said. “I don’t like this at all.”

“What is it?” Robert asked.

“We’re being watched.”

“You know where?”

“They’re inside the house. I saw someone behind the curtain of the front window when we pulled up. But they’re gone now. They’ve moved away from it.”

They gazed at the rest of the farm, noticing that the barn door had been left open. A padlock hung from a metal hasp. If the inhabitants of the house had gone somewhere it seemed odd they hadn’t closed things up. Unless they just forgot. Or had to leave in a hurry…

“I’ve got a funny feeling about this,” Will whispered. “Like a fly must feel before you sneak up and swat it.”

Robert exhaled slowly, trying to settle his nerves. “Then maybe we should hang back a bit, let them show themselves so we’ll know what we’re dealing with.”

“And end up being out here the rest of the day? No thanks. If it’s just grandma in there with a rifle then I want to know if we’re wasting our time standing out here getting cooked.”

“Okay then. Let’s do it.”

Sensing their excitement, Nugget pressed her head between the seats. Her eyes darted back and forth between the two men.

“What about her?” Will asked.

“Nugget stays. Until we find out if it’s safe.”

Moving fast, they slipped out of the truck and approached the porch with their weapons drawn. Robert soon felt the eyes on them too, although he couldn’t tell where the watcher was hiding. For the first time in several hours he’d become aware again of the hellish ordeal his body had been through. The pain buzzed within his flesh like a swarm of stinging wasps.

“We’ll knock first,” Will whispered, “And if we don’t get an answer right away I’ll kick in the door.”

“I have no objections to that,” Robert said, breathing heavily. His face was a mask of sweat.

Will shot him a look.

“How are you feeling?”

“Like shit, but I’ll live. Those pills are wearing off and I’m getting edgy.”

Both men lunged up the steps to the porch. Robert was about to knock on the front door when they were startled by loud ragged laughter.

They turned and saw Marsh sitting up on the porch swing. He’d been lying there all along, waiting patiently for them to make their move. Robert leveled his revolver at the man’s head until Will came up from behind and pulled his arm downward.

“Don’t do it, Bobby, the guy’s got a bomb.”

Robert hadn’t even noticed. He’d been too distracted by the familiar laugh. The mocking laugh that had been haunting him for the last three days. He then saw what Will was talking about. A bundle of dynamite—maybe six to eight sticks in all—duct taped together and wired to a crude igniter.

“Welcome, Mr. Crain,” Marsh said around a smoldering cigar. Blood streaked down from gashes in his forehead. His burnt face was as bright red as the dynamite he cradled in his hairless, charred arms. Robert and Will stared. They couldn’t believe a man in Marsh’s shape could still be conscious.

“Who the hell are you?” Robert asked.

“You don’t recognize your old friend Marsh? I’ve been waiting a long time to meet you in person. By the way, how’d you enjoy those pictures I took of your family?”

Robert’s eyes turned to darkened pools. His heart kept a steady cold drum beat.

“Where are they?”

“You’ll know shortly,” Marsh said, licking his lips. “You do have the map, don’t you?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t play me, Robert. I’m talking about a little oblong-shaped box that speaks to you through its carvings. And inside the box there’s a map. As it turns out, all of you great grandsons of Horn got one. But if you didn’t bring it with you, well, I’m afraid things will get tragic very fast around here.”

Robert took a step closer. Will grabbed him by the shoulder and held him back.

“If he sets if off Bobby there’s going to be nothing but a crater here for the locals to come and gawk at…”

Will glanced over at Marsh, who seemed to be enjoying himself.

“He has the fucking map.”

Marsh closed his eyes and smiled. “Your pal is a wise man, Mr. Crain. It must be nice for you to know someone who can keep a cool head.”

Robert sucked in a deep breath and gradually stopped straining against Will’s hand. Then the curtains in the window behind Marsh began to flutter. A moment later he saw his wife looking out at him from inside the shadowy house.

Peggy…

It felt like a lifetime had passed since he’d last seen her. Three evenings ago she’d kissed him goodnight while he lay on the couch doped up after his car accident. He had been restless and incapable of falling asleep that night. Worried about how Nugget was doing at the emergency clinic and concerned he was keeping Peggy from studying for her final exams.

Robert wished he’d gone back to bed as she’d asked. Maybe he would have been able to ward off the attackers.

Maybes just don’t cut it now.

Marsh followed Robert’s eyes and turned his head to see Peggy behind the glass. He wagged his tongue at her suggestively.

“Hello Peggy. Can you hear us?”

“Peggy nodded, her eyes locked on Robert’s.

Marsh turned back to face Robert.

“Good. This is the deal, folks. Robert and I have a place we must go. But unfortunately the rest of you are not welcome to tag along…”

“I’m not going anywhere without my wife and son,” Robert said.

Marsh glared up at him. “Don’t be unreasonable. We’ve come so far now it would be a terrible shame if I just ended everything where it now stands. So look hard into that window Crain, and tell me you don’t care if everyone dies.”

While Marsh caressed the dynamite with his hand, Robert stared into his wife’s eyes and saw everything she’d been through. Connor stepped beside her and lifted his hand. Robert waved back. Then Peggy motioned her son to leave before raising Wilbur’s pistol in both hands and aiming it at the back of Marsh’s head, waiting for Robert to give her permission. Robert wished he could have said yes but the chance Marsh could still set off the bomb wasn’t worth the risk.

He shook his head at her not to try.

When his eyes returned to Marsh he could feel his insides tearing apart. Peggy swayed back from the window, tears streaking through the dirt on her face. A woman Robert did not know came and led her away to the rear of the house where she could no longer be seen.

“I’ll do whatever it takes to keep them safe,” Robert said.

“Now that’s what I like to hear,” Marsh said, “But before we progress any further with the festivities, you two can start by disarming yourselves.”

Reluctantly, Robert and Will did as they were told.

Once he was satisfied they had completely disarmed, Marsh got up from the loveseat and walked off the porch with the two men moving cautiously beside him, their eyes never leaving the bundle of dynamite.

When they were out on the graveled driveway, Marsh ordered them to remove their cell phones and stomp them to pieces. Then he handed Robert a hunting knife and told him to slash the tires of Will’s truck.

Just as Robert was about to slash the last tire, they heard a vehicle rumbling up the road toward the house. A black SUV skidded to a dead stop within a few feet from where Marsh and Will stood. Mr. Frosty slid out of the passenger seat and limped up to Marsh.

“About time you got here,” Marsh growled. “What the hell happened to you boys?”

Mr. Frosty raised his arm and pointed. “Those sons of bitches almost killed me.”

“Is this true?” Marsh asked.

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