The Rented Mule (44 page)

Cooper hadn’t thought much about the snakes since killing the one but quickly shined his light around the immediate area. He saw dozens of old jars full of clear liquid. Some contained what appeared to be apples and some pears. Cooper assumed it was all moonshine. The sealed jars were stacked everywhere—on the ground, in vegetable and fruit crates, and on makeshift shelves along the walls.

Knowing that Mark could see with his goggles, Cooper
considered how to light up the place. Right now, Mark owned the darkness, but fire would level the playing field somewhat. Cooper decided that the cave’s volume was big enough to support his idea.
Hopefully, the carbon monoxide doesn’t kill us all.

“I don’t see any snakes around here. Go get in the corner behind that rock and close your eyes, okay?” Cooper shined his light for Grayson, who did exactly as he was told.

Once Grayson was in place, Cooper worked as quickly as he could. A swift pan of the cavern with his flashlight revealed several more wooden structures than he remembered. All he had to do was get the moonshine to ignite, and then it should burn like jet fuel. Lighting up the cavern should bring Mark running.

Cooper’s hands were shaking as he quickly searched by feel through his backpack for something that might help. He found a can of bug spray and a Bic lighter. He busted a jar of moonshine and bent down over the liquid. He sprayed the bug repellent toward the moonshine on the floor and then flicked his Bic under the stream. The spray ignited, and then the alcohol. Satisfied with his experiment, he started breaking jars on anything that would burn. With his makeshift torch, he easily set everything ablaze, working his way around to the cabinets and wooden tables. He poured moonshine all over them and kept going. By the time he finished, fire was everywhere except in the corner where Grayson was hiding and at one entrance into the main chamber.

The main cavern was brightly glowing, thick black smoke pooling at the ceiling. Cooper prayed he had made the right decision.

Mark listened to the peculiar resonance of the moonshine erupting in flames. Terror shot through him as he raced toward the odd sound. The moment he rounded the last
corner leading into the main chamber, he lost all vision. The goggles blinded him with retina-searing white light from the fire’s heat. He had no idea what could be happening.

Cooper grabbed three jars of moonshine, tossed them into the hottest part of the fire, and then jumped behind a limestone outcropping. Then he trained his pistol on the cave entrance. The resulting explosion seemed to suck out all of the oxygen in the cave, and the heat generated from 190-proof liquor burning was intense.

Mark was knocked off his feet from the blast. Dazed and confused, he fought to get on his knees. He ripped off his goggles and fought to adjust his eyes to the intense light. He struggled to his feet and ran into the cavern just in time to witness the last tangible remains of his demented family history go up in flames. All he could do was stare.

Cooper could clearly see Mark about ninety feet away. He centered the pistol’s sights on Mark’s forehead and held a breath. As he squeezed the trigger, he yelled, “Polo!”

The muzzle kicked up slightly and a fresh round automatically cycled into the chamber. As Cooper tried to get back on target, he watched Mark spin and then fall to the cave floor. Mark quickly scrambled for cover behind some rocks before Cooper could get off another shot. Cooper knew that he had hit him. Anxiously looking at Grayson, who had his eyes tightly shut and his hands clamped over his ears, Cooper fervently hoped that the child had not just witnessed his father getting shot.

Mark’s right shoulder felt like it had been hit full swing by a baseball bat. He lost almost all movement in his upper arm. His hand, face, and now his shoulder were in excruciating pain. His options were limited, but Mark knew what he had in his pocket would kill Cooper. The fire was raging all around, the ceiling of black smoke was dropping, and it was
becoming difficult to breathe. Mark needed to act fast.
I gotta kill that son of a bitch right now and get the hell out of here
.

He quickly pulled out a stick of dynamite and pinched off the fuse.
That oughta be about fifteen seconds of burn time
. He got to his knees and peered over the rock. He saw Cooper kneeling in a corner, talking with Grayson and smiled.

“Acceptable collateral damage!” Mark said quietly as he lit the fuse. “The little shit should have listened to me.”

With his good arm, he lobbed the dynamite across the room toward the corner where Grayson and Cooper were huddled. As soon as Mark released the dynamite, something black raced past him toward the lit stick of dynamite. Mark was too shocked to move.

Cooper turned to see Mark’s head pop up over the rock. He snapped off two poorly aimed rounds. While firing, Cooper saw that the object Mark had thrown had landed close to Grayson. His heart nearly stopped when he saw the sparkling fuse so near the blasting cap on the dynamite. With no time to think of options, he dove to grab it, but before he reached it, Dixie appeared out of nowhere running full speed. Cooper hesitated, stunned to see her. She acted as though she was going to retrieve the dynamite, but the burning fuse perplexed her, and she, too, hesitated. Cooper knew that they were all dead if the dynamite exploded. He grabbed it, and with all the strength and speed he could muster, threw it toward Mark.

Dixie was reacting to Cooper’s throwing motion the moment he started, anticipating chasing the stick. Cooper couldn’t stop or change direction.

“Dixie! NO!” he screamed and then dove to shield Grayson from the blast.

Mark made a move to look toward Cooper’s scream when the dynamite landed at his feet. He couldn’t think.
Everything was happening too fast. All he could do was scream, “Noooooooo!” as he spun and ran.

Mark didn’t get very far before the dynamite exploded.

T
he old house and the very ground on which it stood shook and rumbled for a second time tonight, causing a collective gasp of horror. Then, for several seconds, there was not a sound. No words were spoken. A blanket of mist began falling. It was almost as if nothing had happened. The only tell was the palpable, permeating fear.

A CNN crew had slipped in and was interviewing the Montgomery DA with the old house as the backdrop when the explosion occurred. The DA wheeled around in astonishment. The camera operator, a veteran war correspondent herself, had the presence to keep rolling. She and her producer, who was watching live from inside the remote van and talking elatedly into her earpiece, knew they had just hit a highlight reel home run.

Brooke was the first to break the silence when she became hysterical and started screaming. She had to be physically restrained while paramedics from the second ambulance began searching for a stronger sedative to give her.
Kelly, already restrained and sedated, was being attended to in another ambulance.

Obermeyer and his commander stood motionless and slack-jawed. After a moment and without a word, the weary detective walked out of the house into the rain and stared in his characteristic stand by mode.
What the hell’s going on down there? Whatever it is, it’s not gonna end well.

When the initial shock of the explosion wore off, five minutes of pure chaos erupted in the on-duty ranks. Some kept hope alive by frantically returning to their tasks with renewed vigor. A few kept on but slowed down, with a dazed look. Some stopped altogether and just stood rooted to the spot as if afraid the ground might swallow them in the next moment. Others barked meaningless orders at everyone else.

The sheriff had been talking to Don Daniels when the explosion occurred, and he immediately raced inside the house and down to the cellar. Before Obermeyer had gone outside, through a window he saw Mr. Daniels nervously walk beyond the parked vehicles and slip into the woods, glancing back twice. In the mass confusion, no one else took note of him.

Obermeyer wiped the rain off his glasses as he thought of the effectiveness of Millie Brown’s snake trick. He was about to follow Don Daniels when Cooper’s BlackBerry vibrated the receipt of an incoming call. Without so much as a thoughtful “stand by,” he clicked the green button and said, “Hello?”

T
he cavern was filled with dust, smoke, and fire. Cooper’s ears were ringing. His eyes and lungs burned. He grabbed Grayson’s shoulders, turned him to directly face him, and gave him a quick physical assessment. He didn’t appear to be injured. Without wasting any time, Cooper looked Grayson in the eye and held his right index finger to his lips, indicating that he should be quiet. Grayson’s eyes were wide and wet with tears, but he nodded his understanding.

Cooper leaned down to Grayson’s ear and whispered, “Hold on to my pant’s pocket. Okay?”

Grayson again nodded and did what he was told.

Cooper pulled out his pistol and held it at the ready as they walked slowly toward what was left of the cave entrance. Fresh dirt covered the hole completely, leaving no trace of Mark or Dixie.
They must be buried
.

Cooper had no desire to dig out Mark and really didn’t want to see Dixie after the trauma of a dynamite blast. He sank to his knees. Grayson did the same.
That damned dog
would retrieve anything, for anybody
. Pausing before he stood, he realized there wouldn’t be anything left of Dixie. That last image of Dixie running for the dynamite was seared into his mind, and he knew that it would haunt him if he survived.
I had to throw it; I didn’t have any choice. Wait, Dixie didn’t come in the cave with me.

“Was that your dog, Mister?” Grayson whispered.

“I thought your eyes were closed?” Cooper asked, turning to the small boy.

“I peeked.”

“Yeah… yes. Dixie. She is… I mean… it was. She was a good dog. A real good dog.” Cooper’s voice began to crack. Grayson put an arm around Cooper’s shoulder.

With squinting eyes, Grayson looked through the heavy dust and smoke and into Cooper’s heart. He said, “She musta been real smart too.” He paused a moment and then added, “I’m gonna get me a dog one day, and I’m gonna name her Dixie.”

Cooper realized that Grayson had been through an unbelievable ordeal and yet he was comforting him.
What an amazing kid!
Cooper then thought of his own son and gave Grayson a big hug, saying, “Every boy should have a dog like Dixie.” Cooper continued, “Come on. Let’s get outta here.” Cooper knew that they were still in a bad bind because he had no idea how to actually get out.

Both Grayson and Cooper were shivering and covered in dirt. The fires were playing out. And the thick smoke was exacerbating Cooper’s claustrophobia. He looked around, hoping to see it moving, indicating a way out.

Grayson mumbled something, causing Cooper to refocus and take a quick inventory. He still had his pistol and flashlight, and he knew how to get out of the main cavern, away from the smoke, to wait for rescuers. Shining his light
around, Cooper glanced at the collapsed original tunnel he had crawled through to get into the cavern. He prayed that someone was digging toward them from the other side.

“Grayson, are you okay?” Cooper asked and watched him absently nod.

“Where’s my dad?” he asked, without much emotion.

Cooper didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t certain what the boy had seen, so he decided it best to get to safety and then let a professional explain. All that he knew was that he didn’t want Grayson melting down right now.

Cooper reached out to grab Grayson’s hand. “I don’t know. How ’bout we get outta here? Come on, big guy.”

Holding Grayson’s hand with his right and his small flashlight in his bloody left hand, he slowly started heading deeper into the cave in search of cleaner air and a safe place to await rescue. As they walked, his light reflected off a flying bat, and he immediately realized that there must be an opening to the outside.
That musta been how Dixie got down here!

“Come on, Grayson,” he said, picking up the pace.

As they hurried, Cooper began to feel that he was getting weaker, and it occurred to him that it was the result of blood loss. He knew that if he was going to survive, waiting to be rescued wasn’t an option any longer.

M
ark missed the brunt of the explosion because he had managed to scramble a few feet away as the stick rolled into a crack of solid limestone, forcing the main thrust of the blast up and away from him. The explosion caused a cave-in, cutting him off from the main cavern. He was in bad shape: bruised, bloody, shot, and confused. He stood slowly. His ears were ringing; his shoulder was throbbing with each heartbeat, and pain coursed through his body with each breath. As he wiped the blood from his face on his sleeve, he noticed blood pouring from the gunshot wound.

Slowly regaining his balance and composure, Mark started for the cave exit. He felt for the remaining stick of dynamite. He still had a chance. It was simple. Climb out the tiny fracture and then blow it shut, leaving Cooper and Grayson to slowly die in the dark of starvation, assuming the whole cave didn’t collapse and crush them. He got his bearings and limped down the passage, wondering,
Where in the hell did that freakin’ dog come from?