The Final Rule (27 page)

Somehow that gave Ellis hope.

He hunkered down and the RPMs on the dirt bike shot into the red. Behind him,
The Big and Terribl
e lost ground. The buzz inside Ellis’s mind crackled with anger.

A current of air parted the grass in front of him. There was no time to change direction, so the only thing Ellis could do was hang on. The wind plowed into the front of the bike and the tires chewed up the ground as it was shoved back. Ellis released the gas and swung the bike around. Grass crawled over his shoe and wove into the wheels. Blue smoke choked from the exhaust as more blades of fescue crawled into the muffler.

Ellis kicked off the ground only to lose his balance when the dirt buckled underneath him. He hit the throttle and the bike spun him in a half circle. He tried again, shoving himself up with everything he had. The knobs on the tires dug in and he was almost yanked off his feet. The bike wobbled until he gained speed. A series of long slits opened in the ground. Flying rocks left stinging welts over his exposed skin and dirt washed into Ellis’s clothes. He ducked his head to shield his eyes.

“C’mon, c’mon.” The bike pulled out of range.

All at once there was nothing. Only the whine of the engine and the wind around him. A cold dark fear uncoiled in Ellis’s stomach, swelling with the rage inside
The Big and Terrible
.

Feedback screeched through his head, scrambling his senses.

Instead of darkness, he saw himself and Jon in a pickup truck going from vehicle to vehicle, retrieving who they could. The dark, gnarled lines of the pecan trees dominated the foreground. It was a view that could only be obtained by someone standing on the opposite side of the field.

The whine of the dirt bike was replaced by the strained beat of a heart. With every contraction there was a thick wet pull of something denser than blood. Through the image of himself stood a shriveled shell of a man.

Ellis spoke without any idea where the words came from, “Rule number seven: The light cannot exist without the dark.”

He let off the throttle and came to a halt just beyond the pecan trees. Too far away to see the details of the vessel
The Big and Terrible
used and yet Ellis knew every wrinkle, lesion, and bruised piece of flesh. How the body’s joints ached under the weight of so much evil. How the skin burned as if on fire.

In the center of it all was the pleading cry of a soul trapped inside it.

Ellis knew these things with the same absolute knowledge he had about himself. There was only one explanation.

That’s right, Ellis, we’re the same.

“No.”

We are. You know we are. You can feel that we are.

Like some fever, realization rose inside him.
The Big and Terrible
was right. They were the same. Born of the same power, linked to the same destiny.

“Rule number seven.”

That’s right. Rule number seven. You can’t exist without me, Ellis, just as I can’t exist without you. We were meant to walk side by side. Just as others before you. Together we can rise to power, we can have everything we ever dreamed of.

“There’s nothing you have that I want.”

Is that so?

“Yeah.”

If we work together you can get back everything you lost and claim anything you wanted.

The energy inside Ellis shifted. All around him the physical world became layers, like a deck of cards it waited to be shuffled.

Moments waited to be removed and others waited to be put back in place. From that same unknown point inside him he confirmed what
The Big and Terrible
said. Together they could change things. They could rewrite the past and shape the future.

The darkness would bring the suffering, the light would heal the wounds.

People would fear them.

They would worship them.

But the one person Ellis wanted to change things for had already told him how everything had been perfect.

“No deal.” Ellis hit the throttle.

The closer he got, the more his hands itched to touch it. He was sure when he did, it would destroy it. Just like it did to Russell at the jail, and when it was inside Jon.

I told you without the dark, there cannot be the light.

“If dying gets rid of you, then it’s worth it.”

You can’t win.

“Something tells me the road works both ways. You can’t kill me either without destroying yourself.”

I don’t have to destroy you, Ellis. I just have to hurt you enough to make it impossible for you to succeed.

The ground collapsed, jerking the dirt bike to a stop. Ellis went over the handlebars. His shoulder caught the ground and a shock rode across his chest. He continued to flip. His hip took the brunt of his last touchdown. His legs twisted and a bolt of pain shot up from his knee.

Then the world stopped spinning and Ellis stared at the sky.

Long blades of grass slapped the front of the pickup truck as Jon sped toward George, perched on the side of the over-turned tractor.
The Big and Terrible
was occupied with Ellis. The same couldn’t be said for the grass.

That shit just kept getting longer and longer.

“Don’t stop moving,” Leon said.

“If I don’t stop moving, how the hell is he going to get in the back?”

“You don’t have to—” They struck a rut and Leon hit the door with his shoulder. “Son-of-a-bitch.”

“Well, you said don’t stop moving.”

“Now is not the time to be a smart ass. Just slow down when you get closer. Then make a wide circle.” Leon rolled down his window. “George, Jon’s gonna make another lap. Climb down as low as you can on that thing, then jump when we get under you.”

Jon shook his head. “He’s going to break a leg.”

“No, he won’t. Just because he’s old don’t mean he ain’t tough.”

“I would break a leg.”

“That’s you, not him.”

Jon made another circle, getting as close to the tractor as possible. George climbed out on one of the tires.

“Not too slow,” Leon said.

“I don’t want him to miss the bed.” He let off the gas a little more. Blades of grass swarmed the front of the truck, bogging it down. Jon wasn’t sure if it could rip out an oil pan, but he had to take the chance. If George landed on the ground it would probably kill him a lot easier than it would cripple the pickup.

As Jon moved in, George jumped. The entire vehicle rocked with the weight of his landing.

“Okay, we got ’em.”

Shredded blades of fescue were thrown back by spinning tires. Then they caught traction and the truck picked up speed.

“That grass is getting serious.”

“It’s been serious, Jon. It’s been serious.”

George knocked on the back window. “Dump truck first. I think Terrance is hurt. Not sure how bad.”

The wheels blocked most of the view of where Terrance was slumped on the side of the dump truck. Jon yelled out the window. “You okay up there?”

Whatever he said back was drowned out by the truck engine.

To Leon Jon said, “Can you take the wheel?”

“Why?”

“I’m gonna climb up there and see if we can get him down.”

“Yeah, go on.”

Jon pointed to the rear of the truck. “Get in close.”

“Just don’t miss, Jon, please.”

“I don’t plan to.” Jon opened the truck door and Leon slid into his place.

“What the hell are you doing, boy?” George said.

“I’m gonna climb up there and help him down.”

Leon closed in on the rear of the dump truck. Jon searched for a good hand-hold. The grooves on the edge of the sidewall looked promising.

“One more lap,” Jon said. The truck made a second pass.

Jon put one hand on the door and a foot on the step rail of the pickup. He jumped, missed the hand-hold but saved himself on the bumper. His chest hit the edge and the impact punched the air out of his lungs. Jon’s fingers stung as the thin metal cut into his grip. He found the hitch with his right foot and pushed himself high enough to grab the sidewall.

Strands of grass curled around his shoe. The fescue tightened its hold as it crawled toward his ankle.

Jon got his elbows over the edge of the sidewall. Sweat made his eyes sting and his arms ached with the effort to pull himself up.

Strands of grass snapped. He kept pulling.

His foot slid against the bed and then nothing but air.

Jon cleared the edge.

Terrance lay on his side watching him.

“Terrance?” Jon knelt. “Hey man, you okay?”

“Think I got some broken ribs.”

“Can you stand?”

“Don’t know.” Tears soaked his cheeks. “Dave’s dead, Jon. The truck rolled and that stuff, that stuff came right through the crack in the window. If he hadn’t given me a boost up I would have never made it. It was eating him and all he worried about was getting me out.”

Jon squeezed the man’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, but right now we need to concentrate on getting you down from here.”

“How?”

“Leon’s got the truck, he’s making circles. I’ll drop you over the edge.”

He laughed through his tears. “There ain’t gonna be no dropping me over the side, not without punching a rib through my lung.”

If he couldn’t climb down Jon needed a way to get him as close to the truck bed as possible. He was too heavy for Jon to carry. He walked to the edge of sidewall. The pickup ambled by. “George, I need you to throw me those straps.” The man gave him a questioning look. The truck went by, then came around again, mashing strands of grass. “The straps.” Jon pointed.

George picked them up and Jon gave him a thumbs up. On the next pass the truck cut close and slowed down. George tossed the tie-downs. The end fell short. George reeled it back in and Jon had to wait until Leon circled back.

The next throw Jon was able to stomp the end of the strap with his foot and hold it. George let go and Jon pulled it up. As they came around again Jon said, “I’m gonna lower him down. Broken ribs.”

George nodded and then pointed to the other tractor where Buck perched on the wheel. Leon veered off and headed in his direction.

Jon went back to Terrance. “Okay, here’s the plan. I’m going to loop this under your arms above your ribs and lower you over the side.”

“That ain’t no plan, that’s desperation.”

“Yeah. It is.”

“Don’t be stupid.”

“I’m not.”

“Yeah you are. You’re not going to get me over the side, I’m too heavy. You’ll fall, I’ll fall, and that shit down there will eat us both.”

“I’ll be fine. I’ll use one of the tires to brace myself.”

Terrance gripped Jon’s wrist. “Save the straps, go get Buck. You can save him. You can’t save me.”

“I sure as hell can’t leave you here.”

“I keep an emergency road kit in my truck. It’s under the driver’s seat. It won’t be hard to get. Tell Leon to toss up the flares.”

“What for?”

“We didn’t get the fuel all the way to the road and that thing ate the barrels. We don’t know if the charges will work underground. So someone’s gotta light it up.”

“No. No way. I’ll get you down.” Jon tried to prop Terrence up to get the rope under his arms.

“Jon…goddamn it, Jon…Listen to me.”

He looped the rope and fixed a knot.

“Jon, we have to kill this thing.”

“I agree, but you’re not going to sit out here and burn to death.”

“I’m not. Because you’re going to give me your gun.”

“No.”

“Yes, you are.”

“I’m not going to let you kill yourself.”

“Better a bullet than fire.”

Jon resumed tying the ropes. This was going to work, it had to work. He pushed the man up into a sitting position and he screamed, spraying blood on his exhale.

Jon helped him back down. “I’m sorry.”

“…okay…” Terrance’s face remained pinched. Beads of sweat dotted his skin. “Jon.” He cut his gaze to Jon’s holster.”

“There’s got to be a way.”

“I’m going to die. One way or another. At least let me do this. Even if you can get me down, I’ll bleed to death before you could get me to a hospital.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Give me your gun.”

Jon shook his head, he kept shaking his head.

Terrance pleaded to him with pain filled eyes. “Jon…Please.”

His hands shook as he unsnapped the holster.

“That’s it.” Terrance held out his hand. Blood caked his fingers and the last two digits were twisted at an odd angle. Everything the man said was perfectly logical. If they were going to finish this, they had to make sure the gas could be lit. They were already going to be short on their delivery. They needed to do what they could.

The bump and rattle of metal made Jon look up. Leon headed back. George and Buck were in the bed of the truck.

Terrance was right, but Jon was tired of people dying. Even the ones who wanted to shoulder the burden. There was no way Jon would get Terrance down on his own. But Jon wasn’t on his own anymore.

He put a hand on Terrance’s shoulder. “I’m going to get you off this truck.”

“Jon…”

“Semper fi, isn’t that what they say?”

“That’s the goddamned Marines, boy, not the army.”

“What’s the difference?”

“The difference?” Anger returned some of the color to his face. “Someone ought’a show you the difference with a foot up your ass.”

Jon smiled. “Guess that means you’re going to have to stick around to do it.”

Pain pushed Ellis to the edge of darkness. Above him the sky churned in angry shades of muted gray. He swallowed the taste of blood. He inhaled and his breath rattled.

A shadow fell across him and he waited for
The Big and Terrible
to make the final blow. Then the figure knelt. It was Jon’s brother. A second person joined him. Rudy.

“I’m sorry.” Ellis lifted a hand, but the nerve-grinding crunch in his shoulder stopped him from reaching out.

“About what?” Rudy touched Ellis’s cheek. He was so warm. So real.

“I messed up. I was supposed to kill him and I messed up.”

Danny smiled and so did Rudy.

“You did just fine, little brother.”

“I just needed to get closer. I could have touched him. He would have died then.”