This
story takes place approximately a year after the War of Nerves started, shortly
before Captain Scarlet and Rhapsody Angel became a couple.
CHAPTER 6
A “Captain Scarlet & the Mysterons” story
By Chris Bishop
After shouting his warning to
Masters which prompted the sheriff to duck down to avoid being shot, Scarlet
had done the same and had thrown himself down onto the back seat of the car. As
a result, he barely saw exactly what happened right afterwards, and could only
make educated guesses, judging by the movements he felt from the vehicle and
the various sounds he was hearing, as Masters put the car into gear and made
good their escape.
Long minutes after the car had hit
MacGibbons’s killer, Scarlet was still lying uncomfortably on the seat, feeling
every bump as the car raced deeper into the bayou; from his position, he could
see the almost indistinguishable green blur of the trees passing by the
window. He did try to push himself up
straight again, but it was a near impossible task, with his hands handcuffed to
his body as they were, and the bumps in the road making it even more difficult
to get his balance. He grimaced in pain when his head roughly hit the side of
the door, after a more violent jump of the car.
He was even more confused with this
whole situation than he had been up until now. He couldn’t imagine who those
men who had attacked them could be, nor why they had killed the sheriff’s
deputy so ruthlessly. He couldn’t explain at all why he had this strange
ominous feeling, even before they
had appeared. All he knew was that there was a threat coming, and after
the lethal meeting with those men, there was no doubt in his mind that this
feeling he had was about them. They represented a danger – a deadly danger, for
him and possibly to anyone who crossed their path.
He wished he could understand why
and how he knew all this; it was a complete mystery to him. He just was very glad that Masters was
fleeing, as far away as possible and as fast as the car would allow. But this
deep sensation of being threatened didn’t leave him. A cold shiver ran down his
spine, at the mere thought of these men. He knew with grim certainty that if
they got their hands on him, it could very well be the end.
The way he was struggling just to
get his balance was a painful reminder that there was little he could do to
defend himself. If only he wasn’t restrained like this… Maybe he wouldn’t feel
so trapped, so powerless…
He looked down at the handcuffs
holding his wrists, twisting them almost to the breaking point to examine them
the best he could.
“Standard handcuffs,
old-fashioned, still in use by American police departments in some remote
areas. Don’t let them fool you. They’re quite sufficient to do the job,
bearing in mind that there are hardly any criminal elements dangerous or smart
enough in these parts to warrant the use
of electro-magnetic cuffs…”
Scarlet frowned in surprise. These
words had popped into his head, and he had no idea where they were
coming from. How the Hell could
he know all this about handcuffs?
He didn’t know exactly, but he
tried to concentrate, trying to reach that new memory so close to his grasp.
An image flashed into his mind, of
a big, bulky man, walking in front of young soldiers standing to attention. “However,
unlike electro-magnetic cuffs, these can be easily unlocked. I’ll show you how to do it, gentlemen, and I
can guarantee you – you’ll be able to free yourself in a matter of seconds,
once I am done with you.”
Scarlet blinked in surprise, as the
image vanished. The man had military insignia on his sleeve. Sergeant… No, MASTER sergeant. He
seemed tough as nails, and the young men under his command looked like they
were very impressed by him.
And he knew he was one of
those young men.
He looked down at the handcuffs
again; if he had learned how to free himself from these restraints, why couldn’t
he remember exactly how, at this moment when that information could mean
the difference between life and death? It was so frustrating…
A more violent bump from the road
threw him up from the seat, and his head, once again, hit the side of the door,
roughly. He groaned in pain, but this latest jump had permitted him to regain
at least a half-seated position, from which he was now able to see the road
ahead.
This wasn’t the same road, he
realised instantly; it was narrower than the previous one. It actually looked
like a barely used beaten trail, leading deeper into the bayou. Probably, the
car had taken a turn at some point, to follow this new path, without him
noticing it.
Scarlet opened his eyes wide with
alarm. On this very bumpy road, the sheriff was driving too fast for both their
safety. And he wasn’t showing any sign of slowing down.
He’s probably panicking…
Scarlet had hardly made this
assumption when he felt another bump, so violent this time that it sent the car
off-road; there was a loud bang as one of the tyres suddenly exploded. Scarlet
just had time to notice that the path was ending in a narrow clearing,
bordering a river, just a few meters ahead where a small motor-boat was docked
at a wooden pier.
The sheriff struggled with the
wheel to get the car back under control, but at this speed, and with a flat
tyre, it was nearly impossible. The car went down the ditch forming the river
bank, and then straight toward a large tree. Masters pumped the brakes
desperately; the tyres squealed in protest, and made a valiant effort to slow
down the car’s speed.
It wasn’t nearly enough, and it was
with an ear-splitting crash that the vehicle ploughed into the tree.
* * *
While running through the woods in
her attempt to escape the last commando who had nearly captured her about two
hours before, Rhapsody Angel found out that she had considerably wandered off
the course she had previously followed to reach the town of Les Arbrisseaux.
Consequently, she took a good hour just to find the direction again. She was
rather upset that she had lost so much precious time, and she hoped that it
still wasn’t too late.
As much as she would have liked to
use the road, she avoided it, in fear that she might stumble upon some of
Montgomery’s men again; she considered it safer to walk under the cover of the
trees’ shadows. She kept close by the road, though, even though she had soon
realised it was snaking its way through the bayou, instead of going to town in
a straight line. She was rather hoping to see a passing vehicle that she would
be able to signal to stop. Unfortunately, it wasn’t to be so; the road remained
desperately deserted. As it looked so badly taken care of, it did seem like not
many people used this road to begin with. It actually looked more like an
abandoned beaten path, with bumps and holes that might prove lethal to the
suspension of any ordinary car.
As she trekked through the woods,
Rhapsody could hear assorted distressing sounds that appeared to be carried
over the distance by various echoes. She thought she recognised the rapid
crackling of automatic weapons, coming from only a few miles away, in a
direction she was quite unable to estimate, and that compelled her to quicken
her pace. Of course, she realised she could be mistaken, and that sound could
very well come from hunters chasing some unfortunate prey; but quite frankly,
she doubted that, and she didn’t want to stay around to discover if Montgomery
and his men were actually closer behind than she first imagined.
When she finally heard the sound of
a car engine coming from the road, she looked ahead expectantly, not daring to
hope. She saw it appear; a big, ordinary enough sedan, of a nondescript
brownish colour, covered with dirt, and racing at breakneck speed on the dusty
road. More importantly, she could see an unpowered rotating police light stuck
on its top. Her heart flared with hope and she ran to the road, stumbling and
nearly hurting herself in the process, calling and gesturing.
But the police car was going way
too fast, and Rhapsody went unnoticed. By the time she reached the side of the
road, the vehicle had disappeared in a dust of cloud at the next turn, and she
stood there, breathing hard, disappointed to have missed this probably unique
opportunity to be rescued by none other than the local constabulary.
She blew a deep sigh, and watched
thoughtfully as the dust settled slowly. That car wasn’t going to Les
Arbrisseaux, but it probably came from there.
She was still a good distance away from town and now she was torn
between pursuing her course – or going after the car.
What am I thinking of? I can’t hope
to catch up with it – especially at its present speed…
Standing pensively on the road,
Rhapsody considered that it might be better to actually move on with her
initial plan, when new engine sounds attracted her attention. This time, it
wasn’t coming from the road and they weren’t car engines. Her eyes caught sight
of three ORVs racing and jumping between the trees, and heard the joyous whoops
and laughter of their drivers and passengers, barely audible over the sounds of
their engines. She watched and wondered, noting almost distractedly that one of
them was brandishing a heavy calibre rifle. They didn’t seem to notice her, and
they disappeared from her view, following approximately the same direction as
the police car a moment earlier. That observation made her frown in puzzlement:
it was odd, but she had the definite impression that they were actually
following the car.
The noise made by their engines
died out rather abruptly, as if they had reached their destination shortly
after that. A curious Rhapsody stood and listened carefully, but she couldn’t
hear anything more. She shrugged dismissively. Obviously, they were youths
having some sick fun chasing after a deer or something of the like, she
reflected inwardly. That would certainly explain the rifle she had seen.
Although, she had to admit, it would seem like slight overkill to chase any
unfortunate prey with that kind of weapon. But then – so would chasing it with
those engines. Although she didn’t have any taste for hunting as a sport –
despite the fact her father, an amateur sportsman himself, had tried on
numerous occasions to interest her in it – Rhapsody did however believe that
the prey was at least entitled to what her father called ‘a sporting chance’.
Consequently, she couldn’t see any fairness in hunting an animal with big guns
and motorised vehicles.
Shaking her head dismissively, she
turned around with the intention to continue her journey toward Les Arbrisseaux
– when suddenly, she heard a loud cracking sound that made her freeze on the
spot. It was coming from very nearby; she spun on her heel, to look with a
puzzled expression in the direction that the police car and the ORVs had
gone.
It was definitely a gunshot;
she had heard enough of those to recognise them. Probably, she thought with
disgust, the youths had found their prey and had cornered it…
But then, there were more shots –
followed by loud, angry shouts and that made the young woman even more
perplexed.
Now Rhapsody was having a bad
feeling – a really bad feeling that
there was something wrong happening. What she was hearing wasn’t the sounds of
any ordinary hunt. There was something else going on.
Curious as to know exactly what it
could be, and sensing that it might have something to do with her present
situation – she couldn’t say why, she just had a weird, uncomfortable
sensation in the pit of her stomach – she decided it would be worth
investigating.
She left the road and returned into
the woods, thinking it would be safer, and resumed her walk, but this time in
the other direction, guided by the sounds of the strange, continuous commotion
that she could hear in the distance, not that far ahead.
* * *
The violent collision of the car
against the trunk of the tree roughly propelled Scarlet against the back of the
front seat, while the sheriff, far luckier, hit the protective air-bag that
deployed in front of him on impact.
Dazed after the shock, Scarlet
tried to regain his focus. He was now in a very uncomfortable position, stuck
between the back seat and the front seat, half sprawled on the uneven floor of
the car, his feet up and his head at an odd angle. His back was hurting. He
barely registered as the sheriff, cursing and groaning, pushed his smashed door
open and extracted himself from the car. Then, the door against which Scarlet
was leaning suddenly opened, and he felt himself falling backwards. Before he
could hit the ground, strong hands caught him by the front of his shirt and
pulled him out of the car, none too gently, before forcing him up to his feet.
Scarlet tried to regain his footing, but Masters didn’t give him the time, and
dragged him away to a safe distance from the car, before pushing him roughly
against a tree. That drove the air out of Scarlet’s lungs, and did nothing to
improve the pain in his back. Before he could even react, the sheriff pressed
his forearm against his throat to keep him still. He gasped in surprise and
pain, and looked down with a haggard expression into the furious eyes of
Masters.
“Now I’m through playing games!”
Masters shouted angrily, straight into Scarlet’s face, showering him with
spittle. “Who were those guys?”
“I don’t know,” Scarlet answered
weakly.
“You expect me to believe that?”
Masters rammed Scarlet brutally against the rough surface of the tree. “You knew
they were a threat!”
“Yes,” Scarlet admitted.
“How?”
“I don’t know,” Scarlet answered
again, more miserably.
That didn’t satisfy Masters at all,
and he banged Scarlet against the tree again, more furiously, roaring: “HOW?”
“I don’t know!” Scarlet repeated
forcibly, looking straight into the sheriff’s eyes. “I just… it was some kind of feeling that they were
dangerous…”
“A feeling?” Masters was
incredulous. “Like a sixth sense, or something like that?”
“Yes… No… I’m not sure…”
“You knew they were going to kill
Mac,” Masters accused.
“No… I didn’t know.” Scarlet
hesitated. “All I knew was that we had to keep away from them.”
“They were after you. What do they
want from you exactly?”
“I… I don’t know, Sheriff. I don’t
have the slightest idea. I’m sorry about your deputy, I…”
“Those dirty, murdering bastards…”
The sheriff relaxed his grip on Scarlet, ever so slightly. “You say you don’t know what they want,” he
said. “That you don’t know who they are.”
Scarlet didn’t reply, and could only stare back helplessly into the
probing eyes of Masters. The latter shook his head thoughtfully. “Maybe you do
know them but you don’t
remember. That guy who spoke to Mac – the one who appeared to be the
leader. He talked like you.”
“Sorry?” Scarlet wasn’t sure what
Masters was talking about.
“His accent,” the sheriff
explained. “He had the same accent as you. An English accent. Didn’t you notice?” But as Scarlet kept
looking back at him with a clueless expression, Masters shook his head. “I
don’t know about the others – maybe they were English too. Maybe you came over
here with them?”
“Then why would they want to kill
me?” Scarlet asked reasonably.
“As far as I know, they didn’t try
to kill you, O’Hara. Although, the way they shot at the car, they didn’t seem
like they would care that much if they were to hit you – even accidentally.”
“I don’t think I have anything in
common with them, Sheriff,” Scarlet replied. “It doesn’t feel… right.”
“Another of your weird feelings,
O’Hara? Well, think about it a second. They were dressed in camo uniform… Just
like you, when Joe found you. And those weapons they were carrying… They
ain’t like any ordinary weapons. And you mentioned a helicopter… Those men
ain’t hunters. No poachers I know of would carry such sophisticated weapons or
ride helicopters to hunt ’gators.” Masters’ face took on a thoughtful
expression. “They said they were Spectrum… But are they really?”
“I… wouldn’t know,” Scarlet said,
shaking his head.
“That doesn’t make sense. They were
at the exact location that guy at the New Orleans Spectrum office
indicated. They must be Spectrum. But why would Spectrum kill my deputy
– and try to kill me? But if they’re not Spectrum, who could they be?”
“Sheriff, I…”
“And you?” Masters stared
insistently into Scarlet’s eyes. “They’re definitely after you, of that
I’m sure. Dead or alive, they want you. But for what reason? Who are you
exactly?”
As Scarlet could only answer with a
troubled silence, the sheriff slowly nodded his understanding. “You genuinely
don’t remember anything, do you?”
Scarlet shook his head. “I kept
telling you that, Sheriff, but you didn’t believe me. I can’t remember a thing.
I don’t know who I am… even less who those men could be and what they want with
me.”
“Then Doc Evers must be right,”
Masters grumbled. “That thing in your head… that looks like a bullet. That
could be what’s causing your amnesia.”
He let go of Scarlet and the latter
sighed deeply; in a way, he was relieved that the sheriff now seemed to believe
at least this. However, he could see there was still some uncertainty in the
other man’s eyes.
“I’m… Truly, I’m sorry about your
deputy, Sheriff, I…”
“Save it. I’ll have time to settle
my scores with those murdering scum later.
For now, I still have you to be concerned about. You’re still the prime
suspect in a murder, and you’re still my prisoner.”
“I didn’t kill Joe Benson,”
Scarlet said insistently.
“It’s not for me to decide, son.”
Scarlet sighed again. “What do you
intend to do now?” he asked. “We can’t
wait here until those murderers come and
kill us…”
“You’re still my responsibility,
O’Hara. I certainly won’t leave you to them, that’s for sure. And I want to bring those bastards to justice
for what they did to Mac.” Masters grunted with anger. “I have to take you back
to Les Arbrisseaux.”
“How do you intend to do that?”
Scarlet asked with a curious frown. “We can’t use the road: the car is
finished, and on foot, these guys would get us. They can’t be all that far from us.”
“That’s true. And it would be too
dangerous to trek through the woods to get back to town. We’re rather deep into
the bayou, and although I pretty much know my way around, there’s no way I’m
gonna drag a restrained prisoner in there with me. You’re liable to slip into a
swamp and drown there.”
“Thanks for your solicitude,
Sheriff,” Scarlet commented dryly. “So, what are your plans, exactly? If we’re
stuck here…”
“We’re not stuck. I drove the car
here for a reason.”
“That was on purpose?” Scarlet
asked with a dubious frown.
“I told you I know these parts
well.” The sheriff pointed to the small motorboat moored at the pier. “We’ll
use that. The river might be a little wild, but it’s the safest way to town,
considering the situation.”
“And how do you propose to get the
motor started?” Scarlet asked doubtfully. “You would need the key or
something…”
“That’s McCullen’s boat. He fixed
it so it the engine will start without a key.”
Masters grinned. “Everybody knows
that, in this area.”
Scarlet nodded thoughtfully. “What
about those people who are waiting for me in town?” Masters stared at him anew,
and he shook his head. “I heard you and your deputy earlier. And I might be
amnesiac, but I’m not stupid: you got me out of town in such secrecy to avoid
the possibility of a lynch mob.”
“Believe me, O’Hara – at the
moment, the townsfolk are the least of your worries, with those murderers after
your ass.”
“Stop calling me that!” Scarlet
snapped in annoyance. “That’s not my name. My name is…” He stopped suddenly, as
a violent headache hit him and he closed his eyes against the pain. The sheriff
looked at him curiously.
“What is your name, then?” he
asked.
There was a flash in Scarlet’s
mind, as the image of the same burly sergeant he had seen earlier returned to
him – addressing him.
“Come on, you Brit… I thought you were better than that! You’d
better start meeting my expectations, ‘cause you’re not leaving this room until
you get yourself out of these cuffs.
Even if it takes you all night…”
Scarlet opened his eyes as the
image faded as quickly as it came. The
headache was still there.
He felt frustrated.
“I still don’t know,” he said,
shaking his head. “I don’t… remember that yet.” He looked at the sheriff. “I think… I’m a soldier.”
“Are you, now?” Masters said dryly. “Like
those guys who killed Mac? Are they friends of yours?”
“No.”
Scarlet’s answer had been swift.
The sheriff raised a curious brow. “So you remember that too?”
“No, I…” Scarlet stopped as a new image flashed into
his mind. Not of the sergeant this time. But rather, of one of the men he had
seen earlier on the road – the older man, who had talked to MacGibbons just
before the deputy was shot, and whom the sheriff thought was the leader. In
Scarlet’s mind’s eye, he was wearing the same outfit as when standing in the
middle of the road, and was holding a handgun – that he discharged into a very
young man, who fell at Scarlet’s feet. The gun was then turned on Scarlet
himself…
The image vanished. And this time, the headache with it.
“I do know them,” Scarlet
murmured.
“Why am I not surprised?” Masters groused.
“… And they are no friends of
mine,” Scarlet added quickly. “They… They tried to kill me…”
“And you don’t know why?”
Scarlet shook his head, frowning as
he tried to recall any other memories that had been escaping him. He could see
nothing more. “No, I…” Scarlet’s words died on his lips as suddenly, something
pricked his ear and he raised his head, listening carefully. The sheriff looked
at him, a doubtful expression on his face.
“What is it, you’re ‘sensing’
something again?”
The sarcasm in Masters’ voice
didn’t escape Scarlet, but he chose to ignore it. “No, I… I heard something…”
Masters looked around, a little
nervously. He could see nothing out of the ordinary. “Can’t be those guys
already,” he muttered. “They were on foot and…” Then he heard it and he froze;
just over the sound of the violently rushing river behind them, he could
perceive the sound of an engine in the distance, growing in intensity as it
approached their position.
No.
Not one engine, but many.
Very close, and drawing closer very
fast…
“Maybe they’re not on foot after
all,” Scarlet advised anxiously.
“Maybe you’re right,” Masters
agreed. “We’d better get going.”
He took his prisoner by the
shoulder and pulled him towards the boat, only a few feet from them, while with
his free hand, he released his gun from his holster. They had barely taken two
steps when a loud cracking was heard. The bark of the tree in front of which
they both had been standing a second earlier exploded into splinters.
Scarlet, suddenly noticing a flash
between the bushes, tackled the sheriff, accidentally making him lose hold of
his gun, which flew out of reach. Both men hit the ground, into the ditch next
to the pier, just as a new detonation was heard. A bullet whizzed by, just over their heads.
The engines that they had heard
earlier were now roaring louder, and as they both looked over the ditch, the
sheriff and his prisoner saw three ORVs emerging from behind the trees and
leaping into the clearing, the boys riding them laughing with delight.
Masters muttered darkly, as he
recognised the newcomers. “Gimme a break…” he said, glancing over the side of
the ditch. “I don’t believe it. It’s Jasper Holland and his gang. I recognise
them and their infernal machines.”
“Hey, Sheriff!” That was the voice
of Jasper, seemingly confirming Masters’ statement. The call made both men
prick up their ears. They noted that the sound of engines had stopped suddenly;
there was little doubt that Jasper and his friends were just over there,
watching and waiting for them. “What exactly happened with the car?” Jasper
asked. “You had an accident?”
“You’re telling me you don’t know,
Holland?” the sheriff barked in answer. “I bet you and your pals have been
following us since we left town. So you already know what happened to us back
there on the road. You probably saw everything!”
“We cut through the woods to catch
up with you. So we have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“And I should believe you?”
“Where’s MacGibbons? Is he still in the car? Is he hurt?”
“So now you care if someone is
hurt, Holland?” Masters replied angrily. “After you took shots at us? What’s
the big idea, you stupid punk? I could have you arrested and thrown in jail for
that, the whole lot of you!”
“We don’t have anything against
you, Sheriff. We just want your prisoner.”
Masters’ features became hard, as
he glanced in Scarlet’s direction; the latter was keeping quiet, and there was
no expression visible on his face. He was simply listening carefully.
“And what exactly do you want with
him?”
“You really have no idea?” Scarlet
muttered darkly.
Masters ignored him. Partly,
because he had figured out what it was that Holland and his band wanted, and
also, because the young man was responding, with the exact answer he expected:
“We just want to give him the
justice he deserves… for killing Ol’ Joe.”
Masters exchanged glances with Scarlet. “Since
when do you care about justice?” he said, addressing Jasper anew.
“You killed Joe, you little
bastard!” Scarlet shouted in frustration. “You just want to get rid of me
because I witnessed the whole thing!”
“You would say that, wouldn’t you,
dirty liar!”
“Why, you bloody hypocrite…”
Scarlet started with righteous anger.
Concerned that his prisoner would
stand up, the sheriff put a calming hand on his shoulder. “I’m beginning to
think you told me the truth all along,” he said in a murmur.
“You still had doubts, after the
way they shot at us?” Scarlet replied between his teeth.
“Those slimeballs still haven’t realised
I’m not armed,” Masters muttered under his breath. “Have to find my gun…”
He scanned the immediate area with
his eyes, and raised himself a little too much to look over the side of the
ditch; a new detonation resonated, and a bullet hit the ground right in front
of him, making dirt and gravel fly right into his face. Temporarily blinded by
the pain, the sheriff cursed loudly, and ducked back into the ditch. He fell
right against Scarlet’s chest.
“Sheriff, are you all right?” For a
few seconds, Masters remained nearly motionless, eyes closed, his hand to his
face, now covered with dirt and cuts, and grunting in pain. A concerned
Scarlet, with his hands still restrained, tried his best to shoulder him up
into a half-seated position. The fingers of his right hand grazed the silver
star-badge pinned on the sheriff’s chest; it was almost by instinct that he
snatched it, keeping it hidden inside his closed fist.
“I’m okay,” Masters moaned. His
hand left his eyes and he blinked a few times, trying to focus his vision as he
searched around. “Where’s that damned gun?”
Scarlet’s eyes scanned the ground
around them, in search of the missing weapon, when a clicking sound made both
men freeze. Scarlet slowly turned his head.
Dallas Fenmore was standing just by
the side of the river, not that far from the destroyed car, and was holding in
his hand the sheriff’s gun, training it on them. There was a large,
mischievous, even evil, smirk spread on his lips.
“Is this what you’re looking for?” he asked, goading Masters into
reacting.
Seeing the victorious expression on
the boy’s face, Masters went pale with anger and his mind became blank and
oblivious of the surrounding danger. He sprang up to his feet. “Why you
little…”
He probably didn’t even imagine
that Fenmore would fire, that the boy probably only meant to intimidate him
with the gun. Unfortunately, he was wrong in his assumption. As for Scarlet, he
realised instantly that the sheriff had inadvertently presented himself as an
easy target; at the same moment, he saw Dallas’ finger squeeze the trigger, and
heard the deafening crack of the gun. The projectile struck Masters violently
in the chest, thrusting him backwards. A grunt escaped the sheriff’s lips as he
staggered back; before Scarlet’s horrified eyes, he tumbled into the river
behind him. The water momentarily closed on the man.
“Sheriff!” Scarlet watched
helplessly as Masters’ body reappeared on the surface of the water, floating on
his back, his face contorted with pain. The violent current was now pulling him
down river, and he was already far out of reach. Scarlet swallowed hard, and
then heard the new click from the gun held by Fenmore, and the smell of smoke
emanating from its muzzle. Distracted by the sheriff’s fall, he had taken
little notice as the young man had approached him.
“We have him!” Dallas shouted
triumphantly to his accomplices.
Scarlet reacted instantly. The
careless boy was standing too close to his feet, making him open to a surprise
attack; Scarlet applied a lock to Fenmore’s legs with one of his feet and
violently kicked the young man’s legs with the other. Fenmore gave a cry of
pain as he felt the violent impact against his knee, and lost his balance,
falling onto his back, the gun escaping his grasp and falling into the river.
Scarlet’s victory was short-lived.
Still restrained by the handcuffs and helpless to defend himself, he saw the
other members of the gang rushing to him and surrounding him. Shouting insults,
Scarecrow brutally hit him on the head with the butt of his rifle, half-stunning
him and sending him sprawling on the muddy ground. He received a vicious kick
in the side from another of the boys; he doubled over, in an attempt to protect
himself the best he could against the blows that rained down on him.
“That’s for throwing me in
the mud, bastard!” Dallas spat angrily. “And that,” he added with a new kick,
“is for that punch you gave me at Joe’s!”
From his position on the ground,
Scarlet could see Jasper Holland, keeping away from the action. For a brief
moment, the two met gazes, and Jasper’s eyes burned with a dangerous glare.
“Johnny.” Jasper gave a curt nod to
the boy who stood beside him. Johnny Monroe visibly jumped at the mention of
his name and turned to his leader with uncertainty visible in his face. “Go get
the rope,” Jasper told him in a cold voice.
“Oh, geez, Jasper…” Hesitantly, Johnny’s eyes
scanned the surface of the river for the floating body of the sheriff. He
couldn’t find it, so he turned to Jasper, who was looking down in contempt at
the groaning man at their feet. “Did Dallas have to shoot the sheriff? You know
that could get us in a lot of trouble…”
“You knew the plan,” Jasper replied
crisply. “The sheriff was in our way, we had to get rid of him. Now he’s dead…”
“… Killed with his own gun,” Dallas
said triumphantly. “So even if his body is found down river, they’ll all think
that his prisoner took the gun from him and shot him with it, to try and
escape. That’s perfect!”
“And there’ll be nobody else to
tell to the contrary,” Jasper approved.
“What about MacGibbons?” Johnny
asked, looking around with concern, as if expecting the deputy sheriff to
appear from behind a tree. “I saw him getting in the car in town… He should be here. Where could he be?”
“There’s no trace of him,” Jamie
Lewis replied, shrugging. “Not in the car, and apparently not around anywhere.”
“Well, he probably only helped the
sheriff get this guy in the car, before leaving for Baton Rouge,” Jasper
remarked. “Remember what Billy Ray told Dallas… He was going there anyway…”
“I saw him getting in the
car,” Johnny insisted.
“Then maybe Masters dropped him at
the bus stop, or somewhere else,” Jasper snapped. “You didn’t keep your eyes on the car all the
time, did you?”
Johnny hesitated. “Well no… I only
watched as it left the station…”
Jasper narrowed his eyes at him.
“What’s the matter, Johnny? You getting cold feet now, or what, so close to
success? You know the plan… Get the damned rope.”
Johnny nodded nervously, and left
Jasper’s side to head towards the ORVs waiting nearby.
“You stupid kids…” Scarlet groaned from the
ground. “You know nothing about what’s going on…”
“Shut up, you bastard!” A new kick
from Dallas hit Scarlet in the side and he grunted in pain; his right fist
closed around the badge he was holding in the palm of his hand and suddenly, a
crazy idea formed in his mind. Keeping the object unseen from his assailants,
he pulled on the long pin, and inserted it into the lock of the shackle
restraining his left hand, moving it around. He was amazed at his own
expertise, at how easy and natural it seemed to be.
… And he was even more surprised to
hear a faint clicking sound coming from inside the lock, and to feel the cuff
loosening around his left wrist.
He felt something heavily fall onto
his shoulders; as he realised it was a thick rope, he felt it swiftly
tightening around his neck, and a sudden jerk pulled him onto his knees. By
reflex, he took a deep gasp of air, and kept very still, as Dallas Fenmore
leaned by the left side of his head, holding the rope tight against the nape of
his neck, and callously sneering into his ear: “Now who’s stupid, jerk? Us… or
you, who’s about to dance for us?”
Scarlet’s eyes opened wide with
shock, as the sudden realisation of what the boys’ plan was hit him like a ton
of bricks; it was pure reflex from his part that he instantly freed his left
hand from the shackle holding it, and reach for the noose around his neck. He
was able to insert two fingers between the rope rubbing against his skin, in an
attempt to loosen it, but it was already too late.
There was the deafening sound of an
ORV’s engine starting nearby, and then he was forcibly pulled to his feet, the
rope tightening even more closely around his neck, squeezing his throat
uncomfortably, as it gave an upwards jerk. He gasped again for air, and his
other hand flew up, desperately grabbing the noose as well; a fraction of a
second later, his feet left the ground, and he felt himself hauled up into the
air.
He heard the audible crack of the
two fingers stuck between the rope and his neck as they broke under the violent
tug, and felt the pain reverberating through his whole hand. But that was
nothing compared to the awful sensation of suffocating he presently felt, as he
hung in the air, with his feet dangling about four or five feet above the
ground.
His teeth clenched, gasping and
grunting, Scarlet struggled desperately to free himself. Just at the limit of
his vision, he could see Jamie Lewis, seated astride on his ORV, looking over
his shoulder, gloating cruelly; Scarlet barely registered that the engine had
been turned off, but he noticed the end of a rope tied to the frame of the
machine. He didn’t need to look up to know that the other end of the lasso from
which he was hanging had been flung over a relatively low, sturdy branch of the
huge tree extending its shadow over them.
Scarlet looked down with shock and
disgust at the band of youngsters reunited underneath him, and looking up
smugly at him.
They were all taking a sick
pleasure in watching him die.
And he just knew it would be
a very slow and painful death.
* * *
After a few minutes’ walk through
the wood, Rhapsody found herself by the river, and for a minute or two, she
followed it upstream, guided by the clamour she was hearing, which was coming
from very close by. She came to the side of a ditch by the river bank, and
nearly fell into it Sliding down
carefully into that ditch, she discovered the car she had seen racing along the
road earlier, its front crushed against the trunk of a large tree. The doors
were open, and from where she was standing, there didn’t seem to be anyone
inside the vehicle. On the other side of the crashed car, on the raging river,
she could see a wooden pier, to which a motor boat was secured.
The tumult she had been hearing up
until now was now much closer and clearer; and to her expert ears, it sounded
like a fight or something similar was raging. It was coming from over the side
of the ditch, just over her head.
The distinctive sound of an OVR’s
engine roaring into life almost deafened her; it was now barely covered by
happy yells and bawls of laugher. She wondered exactly what could be going on.
Silently, she moved around the car, and crawled up the steep side of the gully
to risk a peek.
She nearly tumbled down the whole
distance she had climbed at the scene that appeared before her eyes.
Captain Scarlet was hanging by his
neck from the branch of a tree, gasping in desperate need of air, and was
vainly struggling to release himself from the noose strangling him, while a
group of youngsters, none of them apparently older than twenty years of age,
were watching the show with obvious delight, laughing loudly and mocking him.
The other end of the lasso was tied to the baggage holder of the only OVR to
still have its engine running. Its driver,
now turning the ignition off, sat backwards on the seat, to join his
cruel teasing to that of his companions, while they goaded their helpless
victim to try and free himself.
For a few seconds, Rhapsody felt
rooted into place, in complete shock, wondering how in Heaven’s name her
colleague could have found himself in such a precarious situation.
She quickly got over it, and her
resolve was immediate; she had to do something fast. No matter how
indestructible Captain Scarlet might be, she could imagine very easily how
unpleasant this could be for him. He was slowly choking – his face was already
turning red – and it wouldn’t be too long before he died, strangled by his own
weight.
She looked around in desperation,
searching for a way to effectively come to his aid.
Then her eyes lightened with an
ominous glow; the trunk of the car, next to which she was lying, had been
forced open by its earlier impact against the tree, and at the bottom of it,
she could see exactly what she needed to execute her rescue operation.
She didn’t hesitate one second
more.
* * *
“Have you ever heard of Jim Riley?”
Realising that his thrashing was
doing nothing more than making his situation worse, Captain Scarlet had
minimised his movement. His free right hand was now clutching the rope just
over his head, in a desperate attempt to support his whole weight.
Half-conscious, he looked down towards Jasper Holland, who was quietly pacing
below him. The broken fingers of his left hand were still stuck in the noose
around his neck, but they offered only the slightest reprieve; he couldn’t use
them to loosen the lasso’s deadly grip. Unable to talk, he could offer Jasper
nothing more than a murderous glare and a strangled grunt.
Jasper shook his head and gave a
dismissive shrug. “Of course you wouldn’t know him… You’re not from around here. Well, I’ll be
nice and tell you, then. Jim Riley robbed a bank, quite a few years ago. He
tried to find a hiding place in Devil’s Bayou, while waiting for the
authorities to stop looking for him. But here’s the catch: they say that Riley
got away with quite a fortune; we don’t know exactly how much, but it was
enough to make anyone dream of a better life. You see, people around here are
not very rich, so there was a huge manhunt to try to find Riley and his
booty.” The boy stopped pacing and stood in front of Scarlet. “The money was
never found, they say. But Riley – they found him, all right. Hanged from an
oak tree, deep in the bayou. Apparently, he had been hanging there for weeks,
before he was found. He didn’t look too good by then, with the heat, and the
rain… Smelled pretty bad too. They never learned who did that to him.” He
grinned mischievously. “And before you ask, we were too young at the
time to have done it ourselves. But let’s say that… it was an inspiration.”
Jamie cackled from his seat. “When
they find you, they’ll wonder if, by any chance, Riley’s killer is not
still roaming the Bayou. You know, giving his own brand of justice to criminals
who dare come onto his turf. Neat idea, ain’t it? People’ll get scared, and will think there’s
some kind of a ghost around here. We’ll have given birth to a new legend
in this area. But there ain’t nobody who would suspect we were behind it!”
“How the devil did he get himself
out of these cuffs?” Dallas suddenly asked with obvious surprise – and
something like admiration – in his voice.
Jasper looked down on the ground;
he saw a glint in the mud. “With this, maybe?” He crouched down and picked up,
just under Scarlet’s dangling feet, the star-shaped sheriff badge that he had
dropped just before being hauled up. The boy chuckled loudly. “Well, look at
that, guys! I bet he picked the lock with this! You gotta be pretty slick to be
able to do that with this thing! What do you think?”
“Nah, that ain’t possible,” Dallas
said with a shake of his head. “Gotta be the sheriff who freed him before he
was shot.”
“What does it matter?” Jamie replied with an
evil smile. “That won’t save him none. He’ll be dead soon.”
“But why is it taking so long, anyway?”
Scarecrow asked with a sigh, as Scarlet’s struggles for breath grew weaker.
“Shouldn’t he be, like, dead already?”
“I’m afraid none of us is good at
hanging people,” Jasper said with a shrug. “If the neck doesn’t break right
away, and the noose is not done right, it could take some time, I heard. Too
bad for our friend, really.”
“We’re not in any hurry, anyway,
are we?” Jamie cackled sadistically from his seat.
“Who wants to place bets on how
long he’ll last before croaking?” Dallas asked excitedly.
Jasper’s cruel smile enlarged. “The
only bet I want to place,” he said in a cold voice, “is whether he’ll return
from the dead or not after this one. My bet is… if we leave him hanging to dry
indefinitely, he won’t.”
There were laughs of approval
following this heartless statement, and the boys started placing their bets.
A loud explosion coming from behind
interrupted them; startled, they jumped, and turned on their heels.
Standing just by the side of the
ditch, in front of the damaged police car’s open trunk, they saw a young
red-haired woman, dressed in dirty white pants and undershirt, holding a
shotgun that was still smoking from its recent use. She was hurriedly pumping
the weapon, before training it on them, her eyes glaring with a cold
anger.
“Release him!” she shouted in a
strong, commanding voice. “Right now!”
“Hey! Who’s the chick and where’s
she come from?” asked Dallas, with deep surprise obvious in his voice.
He didn’t sound like he was
suitably impressed by the powerful gun she was holding, so Rhapsody turned her
newly acquired weapon on him. “The ‘chick’ is going to blow your head off your
shoulders if you don’t obey her right now!” she promised. “I said: release him
at once!”
“Lady, you don’t know what you’re
asking.” Jasper took a step forward, but he stopped almost right away, when
Rhapsody aimed the huge barrel straight at him. He smiled sheepishly. “This guy’s a criminal… A killer…”
“A freak,” Jamie added with
contempt.
Rhapsody’s mind registered the last
epithet, but thought now was not the time to elaborate on this particular
subject. “And I suppose you are all law-abiding citizens only making sure that
justice is served, right?” she asked sarcastically.
A cold smile appeared on Jasper’s
lips. “Why, how did you guess that, hon?”
Disgust filled Rhapsody at the
callousness she could hear in his reply. It was obvious he had no intention of
obeying her; none of them was moving. They were standing there, watching her,
waiting – probably patiently biding their time until their victim choked to
death, and it would be too late to save him. She glanced up at Scarlet who was
gasping for air, and she saw the panic and despair in his wide-open blue eyes;
he was looking straight at her, pleadingly. His right hand, clutching the rope,
was losing its grip; his strength was obviously abandoning him.
“Pl-please…” he gasped, managing
somehow to force his strangled voice through his compressed throat. “H-help me…
I can’t… hold…”
His hand slipped from the rope.
Rhapsody barely hesitated; with
determination, she raised the shotgun. Scarlet’s eyes grew wider still when he
saw the barrel seemingly directed at him for that fraction of a second before
the weapon thundered. Fire spat from the muzzle.
The rope and the branch a few
inches over Scarlet’s head exploded in splinters; the noose loosened instantly,
and Scarlet was brutally released from its deadly hold. He saw the ground
rushing to him, as he fell the short distance, and he landed roughly, with a
strangled huff. He lay there, coughing,
thoroughly dazed, barely able to move, and moaning miserably.
The members of the gang were
stunned with surprise, looking from their potential victim to the young woman
who had just saved him from his fate, and back again. Jasper’s face became
white as a sheet. He turned angry eyes in Rhapsody’s direction, as the latter,
with exaggerated coolness, was pumping the gun again, before pointing it back
in their general direction.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
Jasper yelled in frustration. He took a step forward, but, like before, stopped
right away, when he found the shotgun aimed directly at him.
“Now you know I can shoot
straight!” Rhapsody said warningly. “You had all better keep your distance… or
else!”
“You can’t expect to stop all of us,”
Dallas replied defiantly. “Not with that gun. You wouldn’t be fast enough.”
Rhapsody’s eyes flashed angrily.
“Perhaps not all, but I will have plenty of time to blow the head off at least
one of you – perhaps even two. Now I’m
sure you don’t want to find out which will be the lucky candidates.”
She caught sight of Jasper Holland
looking all around, as if in search of something, and then noticed the rifle
resting against the side of an ORV. “Don’t even think about getting that
weapon, buster,” she warned him specifically. “That would be a huge mistake!”
“Frankly, lady, would you really
shoot at one of us?” Jasper goaded her. “You don’t look like the killer type.”
“Do you really want to find
out?” Rhapsody replied with cold aplomb. “You’d better not try me. You’d be the
first to learn how wrong you can be! Now
back off! All of you!”
Glaring ominously at her, the boys
stepped back, hesitantly, but fast enough; Jasper hurriedly joined his
companions, as he suddenly realised this woman wasn’t kidding around and would
not hesitate one minute to use the gun to inflict some serious damage. Rhapsody
carefully stepped forward, keeping her gun trained on the gang, and reached
Scarlet, who was still sprawled on the ground, gasping and coughing, and trying
to pull himself together. He managed to get up on his hands and knees and to
raise an unsteady hand to remove from around his neck the unpleasant lasso
which had almost choked him to death. He let it fall onto the ground.
“Are you all right?” Rhapsody asked
him, not letting the gang out of her sight. When he failed to answer her
question, she frowned, and looked down at him with a brief, but worried glance.
“Captain? Will you be okay?”
Scarlet didn’t quite register the
way the young woman addressed him; at this moment, he wasn’t feeling on top of
things. His head was so heavy, it was difficult to think, and his throat was
hurting like hell; he could feel something salty running into his mouth. He
recognised the taste and he tiredly wiped his hand under his nose before
looking at it. His fingers were covered with blood.
His nose was bleeding again. Then
he felt the beginning of one of those awful headaches.
“I… don’t feel so good,” he
croaked. He looked up at Rhapsody, pleadingly. He frowned as he scrutinized
her. Somehow, this young woman, still very attractive despite her sorry attire,
looked vaguely familiar to him. But he really couldn’t recall from where he
could have known her.
Seeing Captain Scarlet so shaken
and weak, Rhapsody felt a twinge to her heart. Her anger grew even colder than
previously, and she glared with deep contempt at the gang standing in front of
her.
“Don’t worry. I’m getting you away
from here,” she promised to Scarlet. “You’ll feel much better in a while.”
Jasper was looking straight at her,
in a suspicious way, his eyes narrowed to slits. He chuckled evilly. “And how
d’you suppose you will do that, girlie? The car’s finished… And I can’t quite
see you riding one of our machines with him hanging on to you. He doesn’t seem in any state for that, at the
moment.”
Rhapsody didn’t have time to ponder
this. From his position on the ground, Scarlet painfully cleared his throat,
and gestured in a vague direction towards the river. “The sheriff… he wanted to take the boat… to go back to town.”
“Yeah,” Jamie suddenly lashed out,
“and that’s why you killed him, isn’t it?
You just knew what would happen to you if you were to return to
town!”
“Shut up, you,” Rhapsody snapped
instantly at him.
“He’s a freak, lady,” Jamie
continued. “A murderer! He killed an old man in the bayou… And just now, he murdered the sheriff, we
told you. Right in front of our eyes!”
“That’s right, we saw him,” Dallas
added quickly.
Rhapsody wasn’t in the least
impressed by these allegations. If they were true – and she had her doubts
about that, considering the accusers – then she was sure that Scarlet had had
very good reasons for killing whoever these boys said he had killed.
“I’ll wait to hear what he has to
say before passing judgment,” she replied.
“You know him, don’t you?” Jasper
said, his eyes still narrowed at her.
Rhapsody didn’t answer this
question – which sounded more like an accusation than anything else. She had
other things on her mind. Scarlet had just fallen flat back on the ground, with
a loud moan, having visibly used up all of his remaining strength. He wouldn’t
be able to move without outside help. She scanned the gang with her eyes; one
of the boys seemed especially afraid of her, judging by the way he avoided
meeting her eyes or even looking down at Scarlet; he seemed to find more
interest in looking at his dirty shoes. He had a dressing around one of his
wrists. To all appearances, this boy was the least dangerous of the lot.
“You!” Rhapsody called loudly. “The
one in the blue shirt.” He was the only one wearing a blue shirt, and hearing
himself addressed so directly nearly made him jump out of his skin. He looked
up at the woman, his eyes trembling with concern. She nodded in the direction
of Scarlet. “You will help him.”
“M-me?” Johnny Monroe asked in a
stutter, turning very pale. “But… I’m hurt, and…”
“So is he,” Rhapsody replied
sharply. “Get him up.” She moved slightly to the side, and gave another curt
nod in the direction of the nearby wooden pier, where the motorboat mentioned
by Scarlet, which she had seen earlier, was moored. “Help him into the boat.
But be careful,” she added, as Johnny stepped forwards, and her warning made
him stop momentarily. “Make sure you stay between him and the gun. If you even think of using him as a shield…”
She let the rest of the threat
hang. In any case, Johnny didn’t need
further warning; he got the message perfectly right. As he tentatively
moved towards the still half-stunned Scarlet and leaned over him, Rhapsody kept
a careful eye on him, but left the gun trained on the other boys.
“The rest of you, back off,” she
ordered sternly. They didn’t dare to argue and stepped back. Jasper Holland was glaring at the young
woman.
Johnny pulled Scarlet up; still
weakened by his experience, and with his head now pounding furiously, the
Spectrum captain had trouble staying on his feet, so the youngster needed to
make a considerable effort to drag the larger man’s powerful frame to the
motorboat. When they finally reached it, despite Johnny’s carefulness – the boy
was undoubtedly terrified of Rhapsody’s gun – Scarlet dropped heavily with a
groan into the boat and remained motionless, his eyes closed. Johnny looked at
Rhapsody over his shoulder, with some apprehension.
“I think he passed out,” he
announced nervously.
Rhapsody received the news with the
same coldness she had affected since the moment she confronted the gang. “Go
back to join your chums.”
Johnny obeyed, hurriedly leaving
the boat, as Rhapsody, her eyes and gun always set on the band, backed away
slowly towards the boat. Jasper was still glowering furiously at the Angel
pilot, who recognised murder in his eyes; he was the leader, and by far the
most dangerous of the gang.
“You do know him,” he said with certainty.
“I’ve noticed – you speak funny too.”
“I speak funny?” Rhapsody
gave a scoff. “That’s rich, coming from the likes of you.”
“Say, you’re right, Jasper,”
Scarecrow then said in turn. “And she’s a stranger to these parts too… It can’t be coincidence!”
“Probably he’s her boyfriend,”
Dallas said with a half-felt snigger. He was worried by the big gun Rhapsody
was still training on all of them.
“Maybe she’s a freak like him,”
Jamie moved on.
“Stop calling him a freak,”
Rhapsody said curtly. She wondered exactly what these boys could have witnessed
to make them call Scarlet that. She would have time to ask him later. She
stepped into the boat, and carefully moved around her colleague.
“Who are you people, and where do
you come from?” Jasper demanded.
“I don’t think that’s any of your
business, kid,” Rhapsody replied coldly, as she stepped into the boat.
“I’ll make it my business, girl,”
he answered between his teeth. “Nobody crosses me without paying the price. You
don’t know it yet, but you are making a big mistake.”
“I’ve made many mistakes in my life, and I’ve
learned to live with all of them,” Rhapsody answered coldly. “Maybe you should
learn to live with yours. Because crossing me is certainly a big one,
kid.” Her gun always aimed at the group, she removed the mooring rope with one
hand, and backed one step further towards the boat controls. She turned the
contact and felt gratified – and relieved – hearing the soft rumbling of the
engine.
Jasper shook his head slowly, his
eyes not leaving Rhapsody. “You think you will be able to get away with it? You
are deluding yourself, girl,” he spat at her. “Your boyfriend – he’s wanted by
the law for Old Joe’s murder. And now that he’s killed the sheriff, you can’t
go back to town. You’ll be torn apart as soon as you get there.”
“And you won’t get far with that
boat,” Dallas added.
“You might be right, but I’ll wager
we’ll get further than you will.” With these calm words, Rhapsody took aim,
turning the gun in the direction of the ORV Jamie Lewis was still sitting
on. He paled and jumped hurriedly off
his seat. His companions scattered, as if terrified she would shoot them in
cold blood.
Rhapsody pulled the trigger, and
the powerful gun thundered. The projectile hit the ORV that Jamie had just
vacated, hitting the tank. There was an explosion of flames, and debris flew
into the air in all directions. Before the fleeing and stunned boys could
react, Rhapsody had pumped the gun, and was now firing on the second ORV,
effectively destroying the whole front. She discharged the gun a last time on
the third and last vehicle, and the force of the impact sent it rolling down
into the ditch.
The five boys looked with
astonishment at their destroyed vehicles, and Rhapsody took advantage of their
shock to finally put the gun down and take the helm of the boat. She opened the
throttles to their fullest, and the boat jumped forward, onto the river and
away from the pier.
“Crazy chick!” An infuriated Jamie
Lewis ran to the pier, followed closely by Jasper and the rest of the gang, and
he shook his fist at the departing boat. “You destroyed my bike! I’ll get you
for this, girl! You’ll pay with interest, I swear!”
Jasper Holland had picked up his
rifle, which had been thrown on the ground after the second ORV had been
destroyed. It was still working, and so, taking aim, he fired one shot at the
boat racing upsteam. But it was already too far away for the boys to do
anything against it, and the projectile flew harmlessly wide.
“Dammit!” Jasper muttered, lowering
the gun. He gave a wild kick to the nearest, destroyed ORV. “I won’t let them
get away with this!”
“She destroyed our bikes,” Johnny moaned.
“What will we do now?”
“Stop snivelling, you sissy!”
Dallas Fenmore snapped at him. “It’s your fault they got away!”
“My fault?!”
“If you had not done what she
asked…”
“Hey, the girl had a gun,
remember?”
“You didn’t have to be so
compliant,” Jamie added in turn.
“I don’t remember any of yous
trying to stop her!”
“That’s enough!” Jasper shouted at
all of them. He looked on as the boat disappeared from their view at a turn of
the river. His jaws were still clenched in anger, but he was slightly more
composed, already planning what needed to be done. “They’re not returning to
town,” he noticed.
“Yeah, well, she’s not from around
here,” Jamie said. “She probably doesn’t know what direction to take.”
“Or they simply don’t want to go to
town,” Dallas added. “This guy can’t show his face there… Not without the sheriff.”
“You think he’s dead?” Johnny
asked. “The sheriff, I mean…”
“Of course, he’s dead,” Jasper
snapped. “He can’t have survived a
bullet in the chest and a dive in the river.”
“But if his body’s found…” insisted
Johnny.
“It’s like we said. They’ll think
the stranger killed him.” Jasper said.
Jamie frowned at this. “But if the guy talks… or the girl?”
“You think anyone will believe
them?” Jasper remarked. “The freak’s already got a murder rap on him.” He
looked again in the direction in which the boat had disappeared, narrowing his
eyes. “But anyway, we can’t take any chances. They won’t get very far with that
boat. We gotta find them and get rid of them. Before they talk to anyone who might
listen to them.”
“And how are we going to do that?”
asked Dallas. “We don’t have any weapons – except your rifle. We need more.”
“We’re not that far from McCullen’s
house,” Jamie then suggested. “We can find what we need there. McCullen’s got a nice collection of hunting
weapons. And he’s away from his home these days.”
“Then let’s go,” Jasper said
coldly. “And then let’s quickly hunt those two down. We’re too close to success
now, after all this time working so hard, and finally getting rid of Joe. We
won’t let these two strangers get in our way.” His eyes became ominously cold.
“They have to disappear – without nobody finding any trace of ‘em.”
Any comments? Send an E-MAIL to the SPECTRUM
HEADQUARTERS site