Twenty-Nine

There were only three men on dirt bikes. None of them wore helmets. Each of them had a rifle slung over his shoulder. They weren’t going fast, not as fast as Nova had been going, but that was because the lead rider was concentrating on the dirt, following Nova’s tracks. The growl of their engines reverberated off the canyon walls and made the loose dirt nearby shiver in anticipation.

The sky was clear and fading, the sun nearing the horizon. Shadows stretched across the desert, especially down here in the canyons.

The men on the dirt bikes turned the corner and the first one slowed and raised a fist, alerting the two men behind him.

The other two stopped, lowered their kickstands, and slipped the rifles off their shoulders.

Farther ahead they saw the solitary dirt bike, the one they had been chasing.

Beyond the dirt bike they saw the sliver in the canyon wall and the shape of a young woman trying to squeeze herself through.

The first man killed his engine, and the two others killed their engines, too.

The first man shouted, “Hey!”

Jessica looked back through the sliver at the men. Her eyes were wide with fear. She no doubt had heard the men coming—had even known they were right there—but the sound of the man’s voice was enough to spook her.

A few more feet and she would make it to the other side. She was playing up her sprained ankle, limping more than she probably needed to. Clearly there was more than enough room for her to squeeze through, but the men didn’t seem to notice. They had been sent to track her down, and here they had found her, and she was so very close.

The first man lowered the kickstand to his dirt bike, climbed off as he unslung the rifle and held it with both hands. As he began to advance, he said, “Where is he?”

The other two men, their rifles now held at the ready and advancing behind the first man, began looking around the canyon walls, and Jessica, no doubt noticing this, decided to improvise.

She screamed.

It was enough to stop all three men. The barrels of their rifles momentarily dipped toward the ground. All of their attention was now focused on the girl as she shuffled the last couple of feet to the other side.

The first man repeated his question. “Where is he?”

Jessica screamed again.

The men, having momentarily been taken aback, began to raise their weapons.

At that same moment, Nova dropped down to the ground behind them. The canyon walls narrowed the higher they went. That was where Nova had climbed up only minutes ago. Then, his hands and feet pressed against the sides, he had lowered himself more and more as the men advanced closer to the sliver and to Jessica. Now he dropped maybe fifteen feet, rolling as he hit the ground to take the stress off his legs, pulling the pistol from the waistband of his jeans and aiming it at the men.

Before, he had been on the fence whether or not to take any lives, but now it was crystal clear: these men were going to kill him unless he killed them first.

He fired off six rounds, two bullets per man. One head shot, one chest shot. None of the men had time to even squeeze their own triggers. They each dropped to the ground.

Nova stood up straight, feeling the tension in his legs. He should have climbed down a couple more feet before making the drop. He had been lucky. The last thing he needed was to sprain his ankle just like Jessica. They’d be sitting ducks then for sure.

He lowered the pistol to his side and started forward, toward the three dead men. He noted their rifles and their sidearms. He also noted the walkie-talkies each had clipped to their belts.

He bent toward the first man, reaching for his walkie-talkie, when Jessica shouted, “John, watch out!”

He fell to the ground at once, rolling to the side, raising the pistol again and squeezing off one round at the man behind him.

His shot echoed off the canyon walls a half-second after the man’s shot did.

The man had been using a rifle, and his shot had been close to Nova—shards of the canyon wall beside him burst everywhere—but Nova’s bullet had gone straight through the man’s throat.

The man stared ahead, choking on his own blood, before falling to his knees, then down onto his face.

Nova hurried toward the new dead man and the three dirt bikes. He peeked around the canyon wall, saw another dirt bike propped up with its kickstand. The fourth man must have been farther away and pushed it forward on the off chance something like this would happen.

When he was sure the coast was clear—that deep silence again enveloping the area—Nova returned to the three dead men. By that point Jessica was making her way back through the sliver.

Nova took one of the walkie-talkies off a belt, turned the volume down to almost silent, then clipped it to his own belt.

Jessica limped toward him, the canvas bag now strapped over her chest. Judging by her pace and the distance and the time it took before she reached him, Nova wouldn’t have been surprised if a desert tortoise sped past her.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

He nodded. “You?”

She grimaced at the pain. “I’ve been better.”

Then as she neared her eyes took in all the death and Nova saw something change in her face, a mixture of revulsion and relief.

“My God,” she whispered. “They’re just … gone, aren’t they? One second they were alive, and now they’re gone.”

Nova stood back up, shouldering another rifle, and offered the other to Jessica. She just stared at it for the longest time before numbly taking it from him.

“It was either them or us,” he said, “and quite frankly, I’m glad it was them.”

She swallowed, her eyes focused on the dead bodies, and nodded. “Now what?”

“Others are coming. Maybe not right away, but they’ll be here soon.”

“So should we do the same thing again, with me back there and you up there?”

Nova shook his head. “We were lucky this time, that’s all. It might not go down the same way again. Besides, we can’t just wait here forever. The sun will be down within the hour. It’s going to get dark and cold real soon.”

“So what do you think we should do?”

“I remember passing a town a couple miles before Parrot Spur.”

“That would be Kadrey.”

“Right. I think we should head that way.”

She glanced back at the cell phone he had tossed earlier. “Why don’t we just call the police?”

“There’s a chance the local law is corrupt. In fact, I know the local law is corrupt. The same could be true of a few state troopers. We can’t take the risk.”

“So then what are we supposed to do?”

“If we can make it to Kadrey and get to a phone, there’s someone I know who might be able to help.”

She gestured to the cell phone and battery on the ground. “Why not use that?”

“It was locked. And mine is dead. And if any of these men are carrying cell phones, they’ll be locked, too. Besides, there’s a very good chance they’ll be tracking the phones very soon, if they aren’t already.”

She looked around the area again, taking in the dead bodies and the blood soaking the dirt. “We can’t just ride one of the dirt bikes again, can we?”

“Not unless we want them to find us.”

“So then what are we going to do? I can’t walk very fast. It’ll take forever for us to get to Kadrey.”

“I know,” Nova said. “That’s why I’m going to carry you.”