The Quest: Countdown to Armageddon: Book 6 (23 page)

     “Atta girl. Now, in light of the situation, we should post watch tonight. I’ll take the first shift.”

     “Will you wake me up if Tom comes back?”

     “Yes. And if he doesn’t come back, I’ll wake you up when I head out for town.”

 
-51-

     Try as she might, Sara wasn’t able to get a wink of sleep. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw things she didn’t want to see.

     Like a bullet-riddled corpse lying cold in a lonely field.

     Wearing Tom’s clothes and hat.

     Or the vision of Trigger, Tom’s horse, coming back to the camp without him.

     Or, worst of all, Tom coming to her in a dream, dressed all in white, saying, “I’m so sorry, Sara. I tried my best to save her. But there were only two of us and way too many of them.”

     The last vision had sent a shiver through Sara’s tiny body. For it implied that she’d lost not only Tom, but her mother as well.

     And it was enough to convince her that she didn’t want to fall asleep.

     For sleep on this particular night would only bring things that would cause her pain.

     Instead, she placed the palms of both hands beneath her head and lay upon her bedroll, gazing up at the stars and listening to the sounds of a forest at rest.

     It wasn’t really at rest, of course. Not everything in the forest sleeps at night. In darkness the forest is actually quite active. Because of the still of the night, each sound is amplified greatly, and at times it seems that the forest is most active in the darkness.

     It’s not really. But to one lying in the dark in the middle of a forest, it can sure seem that way.

     A million things flitted into Sara’s mind, paused for a moment, then ran away again.

     She looked at the stars above, wondering why masses of them seemed to blink all at once.

     Then she felt foolish when she realized they weren’t blinking at all, but were blacked out by swaying treetops that she couldn’t see.

     She wondered why the treetops were swaying so when she could feel no breeze on the ground.

     She wondered why some stars blinked and some stars didn’t.

     She wondered why the mosquitoes were so thick on some nights they covered her like a blanket.

     And other nights she saw nary a one.

     She wondered why a rabbit running through the forest at night made more noise than a freight train.

     And the same rabbit running during the daytime seemed to make no noise at all.

     She wondered why the woods weren’t overrun by wild dogs. With such an abundant food source and no natural predators, it seemed amazing that the forest wasn’t teeming with them.

     Then she decided she was glad that it wasn’t.

     After several hours, she got bored enough to decide to get up.

     She sat up on her bedroll and said quietly, barely above a whisper, “Randy?”

     His answer came from the shadows, closer than she expected.

     “Yes, little darlin’?”

     She fell silent for a moment, then said “Please don’t call me that.”

     “Why not?”

     She hesitated, then answered.

     “Because Tom calls me that sometimes. And… well, I don’t know. I just consider it something he’d say. That’s all.”

     “So what should I call you, then?”

     She thought again.

     Calling her Sara every time he addressed her sounded so… formal, since they’d gotten to know each other and became friends.

     “Well, okay. I guess you can call me that. But please remember that I’m a married woman.”

     Randy laughed.

     “I’ll remember, little darlin’. But even if you weren’t, you’re not my type.”

     His words certainly weren’t intended to, but they stung just a little.

     “Really? And why not?”

     “Because you be but little, but way too fierce for me.”

     “Meaning?”

     “Meaning I’m afraid of you. If I ever upset you, you’d likely tear me to pieces and then feed me to the coyotes.”

     His words made her smile this time.

     “Damn right…
darn
right. And don’t you forget it, mister.”

     “I couldn’t if I tried.”

     “Hey, Randy?”

     “Yes, ma’am?”

     “Do you have a watch?”

     “I don’t wear a watch, sugar. But it’s about half an hour after midnight, give or take twenty minutes.”

     “If you don’t have a watch, how do you know?”

     “You just look at the Big Dipper, and its position on the horizon. Then you add a few numbers based on the month of the year, and add and subtract some numbers based on other factors. The numbers you end up with represent the time. It’s never exact, but pretty close.”

     “Would you teach me sometime?”

     “Sure.”

     “Hey Randy?”

     “Yes, ma’am?”

     “How far away can you hear gunshots?”

     “It depends on several factors.”

     “Such as?”

     “The type of weapon. The amount of powder in the cartridge. The length of the barrel. The wind direction and wind speed. Whether or not the shot is fired in the open or in the forest. Whether or not the listener is in the open or in the forest. Even something as benign as humidity can be a factor. A heavily humid day can lessen the distance a gunshot carries.

     “Why do you ask?”

     “If Tom was shot tonight, would we have heard it?”

     “Probably. He’s not that far away and the winds have been predominantly out of the west. But merely hearing gunshots doesn’t mean they were shooting at Tom. Remember, these woods are alive with animals. And wherever you find wild animals, you’re going to find hunters. We can use ourselves as a case in point.”

     “I’m worried about him, Randy. I love that man. A lot.”

     “I know you do, sugar. I’m worried about him too.”

     “Wait a minute. I thought you were going to wake me up at midnight so I could take watch and you could go into town.”

     “I was. But I’m in no hurry to go into town. I can leave as late as two or three and still make it back before first light. I was hoping you’d get some sleep before I had to wake you up. You’re much more likely to be sloppy if you’re alone in the woods and sleepy.”

     “How’d you know I couldn’t sleep?”

     “Because you make more noise than a bear, thrashing about on your bedroll, tossing and turning and propping yourself up on one elbow, then lying flat on your back with your hands behind your head.”

     “Wait a minute. You were watching me?”

     “There’s not a lot to do pulling watch on a dark night. Might as well watch you as anything else.”

     “I can’t see you at all. How can you see me?”

     “I have better night vision than you, I suppose.”

     “Why is that?”

     “I don’t know. I suppose God rewards the less ornery with more gifts.”

     “Thanks a lot.”

     “You’re welcome a lot. Besides, watching you in the night is rather entertaining.”

     “How so?”

     “You’re quite oblivious to some of the things going on around you. For example, a couple of hours ago you were lying there looking up at the stars and a possum wandered over, sniffed your hair, and then left again. I’m guessing he didn’t much like your choice of shampoos.”

     “I’ve been riding for seven straight days. I haven’t shampooed my hair in a week.”

     “Well, perhaps he thought you were another possum then.”

     “Very funny.”

     Then his words sunk in.

     “Did that really happen?”

     “Did what really happen?”

     “A possum. Sniffing my hair.”

     “Yes.”

     “I’m not sure I believe you.”

     “Why not?”

     “Because it’s very dark out here. And you’re twenty feet away. And I can’t see you at all. I don’t think you can see that well in the dark. I think you’re just teasing me.”

     “Okay. Believe what you want.”

     “How many fingers am I holding up?”

     “I can’t tell. It’s too dark.”

     “Ha! I knew it!”

     “There’s a big difference between not being able to count fingers from twenty feet away and seeing a possum from the same distance.”

     “Still don’t believe you…”

     “Would you believe me if I told you that right now you’re scratching your butt?”

     “Oh, my God!”

     “Hey, you wanted me to prove it.”

     “I think I’m going to sleep farther away from you from now on.”

 
-52-

     Tom had regained consciousness an hour before, while Sara and Randy were talking about possums and stars and Sara’s itchy butt.

     But Tom was in a much uglier place. No stars were visible from his prison cell. And he wouldn’t have been able to see them anyway.

     For his eyes were both swollen shut.

     The black of his swollen eyes matched pretty much the rest of his face.

     He lay there for a time, wondering if the beating was finally over for good.

     He hoped they weren’t just taking a break.

     His broken nose had finally stopped bleeding, but he had to breathe through his mouth because both nostrils were clogged with dried blood.

     His tongue was cut in two places. He seemed to very vaguely remember biting it when someone kicked him in the jaw.

     With his sore and swollen tongue he counted the number of missing teeth in his mouth.

     Three.

     He supposed it could have been worse. One swing of the bat from the right angle and he’d have lost all of them.

     As far as he could tell, the only broken bones he’d suffered were to his left forearm and his right hand.

     Defensive wounds, as he’d tried to ward off the first few blows.

     Once he’d realized that was futile, he’d gone into a defensive position by curling into a ball and trying to protect his vital organs as best he could.

     It was a move that probably saved his life.

     He was stiff and sore all over, but as far as he knew his organs were still working.

     It was hard for him to breathe, but he was able to wince and draw a full but very painful breath. That was actually a good sign. It meant his lungs weren’t punctured. A couple of his ribs might be fractured, but they hadn’t splintered enough to poke any holes in his lungs.

     He vaguely seemed to remember coming to a bit earlier, feeling he needed to urinate.

     Now the ground beneath him was wet and cold. He assumed his bladder emptied itself after he passed out again.

     Slowly, methodically, he tried to move each of his limbs.

     They worked, mostly.

     But they hurt like sin.

     He wondered what lay ahead of him in the coming hours, then caught himself.

     He was probably better off not knowing.

     So instead, he wondered about Sara and Randy.

     What they were doing. Whether or not they’d come for him.

     He hoped if they did, they were a little smarter than he’d been.

     He thought that Payton would behave rationally. Accept his offer of gold with a promise of more later.

     He hadn’t known that Payton was much too greedy for that.

     Payton saw life from a completely different view.