CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The town of Greybull was dimly lit and desolate. There was literally no sign of life two hours before dawn.  The girl was fast asleep. Rainhorse paused at a stop sign and checked the map. The gas station looked to be about two miles just north of town.

He put the car into gear and pulled away, passing through the small town within minutes.  He pulled into the truck stop and gassed up. As he pumped, Rainhorse looked around in all directions. It was eerily quiet.

He finished pumping gas and got back into the car. The girl was still fast asleep. He pulled back on to the road and began to drive. It was less than five minutes later that he saw a large fallen tree, blocking the road.

“Girl, wake up,” he said.

Lindsay looked up, blinking, eyelids still heavy.

“What is it?”

“Unbuckle your seatbelt in slip down in front of the seat.”

“What?  Why?”

“Just do it. I think we’re in trouble.”

“What do you mean? What kind of trouble?”

“The worst kind.  Now move. Do like I say. I’m turning around.”

As the last sentence left his lips, headlights from two different trucks illuminated the RAV4 cabin from the rear. Lights from two more trucks in front of them lit up as well.

“Jackson, what’s happening?” Lindsay exclaimed, not fully awake and beginning to panic.

“We’ve been made,” Rainhorse said.  “We’re blocked from the front and the back. We’re going off road. Hold on.”

The RAV4 veered off the road onto the flat hard dirt. Rainhorse gunned it. He could hear the sound of distant gunfire. The two trucks that had approached from the rear began to follow him off road. He also saw the trucks that had been positioned in front of him begin to move.

Rainhorse looked around him.  He realized they were sitting ducks in the open terrain. The horsepower of the RAV4 was no match for the giant engines of the pickups that followed. The trucks would begin to flank them and eventually overtake them—it was only a matter of time.

He saw a grove of trees to the southeast. That was his best chance, he thought. Perhaps he could use the smaller vehicle to navigate through the trees easier than the larger trucks and the trees could provide cover against gunfire.

He swerved the vehicle to his right and floored it. Lindsay’s face was white as a sheet, her eyes wide with fear.

The first bullet found its mark, hitting the rear windshield, but it ricocheted into the air. Lindsay screamed at the sound.

“Jackson, I want to go home,” she cried out.

“Hang on, girl, it’s going to get bumpy,” he called back.

The RAV4 entered the tree grove. Rainhorse navigated through tight quarters, hoping the trees would slow down his pursuers. He heard the sound of another gunshot pelting the rear of their vehicle. Lindsay screamed again.

“How did they find us?” Lindsay asked.

“A question for another time,” he replied. “I’m a little busy right now.”

Rainhorse caught the reflection of headlights in his side mirror and saw that one of the trucks was gaining quickly to his left. He looked ahead and then back at the truck. He partially released his foot from the accelerator, allowing the truck to catch up.

“Why are you slowing down? Have you lost your mind?” Lindsay screamed.

“Possibly,” he replied. “Hang on.”

The truck was nearly alongside the RAV4 now, close enough to see the man in the passenger seat, training his rifle toward him. He took a quick glance forward again. Rainhorse slammed down hard on the accelerator again and swerved hard to the left, slamming the truck’s front fender. The truck veered left from the impact and directly into an enormous tree. The big truck’s entire front end caved in from the impact.

“Ugh!” Lindsay cried out, sitting up to survey the scene. “That had to hurt.”

“Who said you could get up? Get down, dammit. There are more where he came from.”

“Ok. Ok,” Lindsay replied, moving down to the floorboard again. “How many more of them are there?”

“I don’t know. More,” he repeated.

Right on cue, two more bullets pelted the rear end of the RAV4. One of them exploded through the rear windshield and lodged in the dash board, less than a foot from Lindsay’s head.

“Holy shit!” she cried out. “That was close.”

“Head… down… now!” Rainhorse demanded. “Hang on.”

Rainhorse checked the rearview mirror, pulled his pistol and slammed on the brake. When the RAV4 came to a stop he deftly hopped out of the vehicle and began firing at the oncoming truck.  He fired four shots into the truck’s windshield. All four bullets made tiny holes in the windshield near the driver’s seating position. He saw blood spraying the inside of the glass. At least one of the bullets found its target. The truck slowed and veered right, slamming into a tree. He saw more trucks approaching from the south west.

Rainhorse hopped back into the RAV4, threw the vehicle into gear and gunned it.

“Did you get him?” Lindsay asked.

“Yep, but more are coming.”

“What are you going to do?” she asked.

“I don’t know, I’m making it up as I go.”

“I hate that answer.”

“Up ahead, I see a rolling hill,” he replied. “It has trees and large boulders. I’m going to head up it and find cover. We’ll establish an elevated position. With any luck I can fend the rest of them off.”

“You aren’t sure?” she asked.

“I’m going to do my best, girl. I promised to get you home.  I intend to keep that promise.”

The RAV4 zoomed up the hill. The closest pursuer was thirty yards behind them. Rainhorse found a large boulder next to a clump of trees about one hundred yards up. He pulled behind the boulder and stopped.

“You stay here, and keep your head down.”

“No, don’t leave me,” Lindsay pleaded.

She climbed onto the seat from the floor board and threw her arms around him.

Rainhorse returned the hug, then pulled her off him, “Listen, Lindsay. You have to do what I say.  I can defend us from here. You have to trust me. I won’t let anyone hurt you, but I have to get out of the vehicle. I can’t worry about them and you. Do you understand?”

“You called me Lindsay,” she replied.

“I guess I did.”

“Please don’t get hurt.  I couldn’t take it.”

“I’ll do my best.  Now get down.”

Rainhorse opened the RAV4 door and slipped in behind the boulder. He peeked out to see the first approaching vehicle, a dark colored Dodge Ram, now just ten yards away and slowing. He had hoped the cover of darkness would be his friend, but the light of the full moon made him visible to them. The truck began to turn to its left. Rainhorse knew they were trying to position the gunman, who sat on the passenger side, to acquire line of sight to him.

The Ram sped up and the passenger window rolled down. Rainhorse could see the rifle’s gun barrel sticking through the window. They were going for an angle to shoot at him. The truck was now traveling dangerously fast across the incline, not up it. Rainhorse popped up and took aim—not at the shooter, but the right front tire.

He fired. The tire exploded. He fired again. The right rear tire also exploded.

The flattened tires caused the truck to swerve left and out of control. The driver tried to regain control but he had been going too fast. The truck rolled over onto its side and then continued, rolling over and over downhill. Rainhorse could see the truck cabin collapsing under the truck’s weight. He couldn’t imagine that either passenger survived.

Three down, he thought. Two to go. He replaced his gun clip with a fully loaded one. He looked down and saw a fourth truck approaching, now seventy yards away. He moved to his left and took position as the truck approached. He took careful aim.

The truck continued to approach. Forty yards away; now thirty; now twenty.  At ten yards away, Rainhorse fired six bullets; three at the passenger’s side of the windshield and three more at the driver’s side.  Again, he saw all six bullets connect with the glass and again saw blood spraying against the windshield, on both sides.  Both the driver and shooter had been hit. The vehicle slowed and then began slowly rolling backwards downhill.

Four down.

He looked for the fifth truck. He waited. Ten seconds; twenty; forty; a full minute.

He saw nothing.

Where were they?

Oh, shit, he thought. Lindsay.

Rainhorse turned and ran back toward the RAV4.  When he was ten feet away from the vehicle he heard the first shots. Three, four, six shots pelted the RAV4. He heard Lindsay screaming. She opened the passenger side door and began to run.

“Lindsay! No!” screamed Rainhorse.

When she heard his voice, she instinctively ran toward him.

“Jackson!” she cried out. “Help me.”

From what he could tell, Lindsay had not been shot. She just looked scared out of her mind, but she was a sitting duck.  Rainhorse ran toward the position where his body would block the line of sight between the direction the bullets were fired and Lindsay.

Lindsay was almost on him now.  Rainhorse took the first bullet on the back of his upper thigh, just below his buttocks. Lindsay fell into his arms. He turned her to put his own body between Lindsay and the line of fire. He embraced her as two more bullets found their mark in his lower back. The impact of the bullets sent bolts of searing pain throughout his body.

“Uhhh!” the big Cheyenne moaned. “We have to move,” he yelled, “to the front of the truck. Stay in front of me.”

Lindsay turned to face the truck. Rainhorse wrapped his enormous arms around her tiny waist and together they moved as quickly as his injuries would allow.

He heard two more gunshots; both whistled past them by inches.  They were almost at the front of the truck when Rainhorse heard two more gunshots. Both bullets landed squarely in his upper back.  He pushed Lindsay forward in front of the truck and fell to the ground.

“Jackson!” Lindsay screamed, jumping back out. “You’re still out in the open.”

“Stay back!” he screamed. “Behind the SUV.”

She ignored him, grabbing his wrist and pulling. Rainhorse struggled but finally made it to safety with Lindsay’s help.

“Oh my god, you’re hurt so bad,” she cried out. Tears were rolling down her cheeks. “What do we do now?”

Rainhorse reached into his pocket and pulled out a cell phone.

“We call the police,” he said.

“You’ve had a cell phone this whole time?”

“For an emergency situation,” he said. “I think this qualifies.”

His hand was shaking. He handed the phone to Lindsay, “Here turn it on. Call 9-1-1. Give them our position.”

“No! They’ll catch you.”

“It doesn’t matter,” he said. “I’m hit. It’s bad. I’m done.”

“No, you aren’t, don’t say that,” she pleaded. “We’ll get you to a doctor.”

“It’s too late,” he said. “I’m almost certain the first bullet in my back hit my liver. The blood is black.  I have twenty-minutes, tops. Now make the call.”

“No.”

“Lindsay, don’t argue. I can hold them off for a few minutes but sooner or later I’m going to pass out from the pain. Now make the call... please.”

Lindsay turned on the phone but before she could dial she heard a hail of bullets.

“They’re shooting at us again,” she called out.

“No, those shots came from a different direction,” Rainhorse answered. “Someone is firing at them.”

“At who?”

“The people trying to kill us. Someone is shooting at them.”

“Who?”

“No idea.”

“Lindsay!“ she heard a male voice call out.

“They’re calling me.”

“Lindsay Vanderbilt?  It’s Sam Steele.”

“Oh, my god. That’s my mother’s boyfriend. How’d he find us?”

Rainhorse shrugged, “You said he was a Ranger. Sounds like he was a good one.”

“Stay down,” Sam called out. “We have them on the run. Stay where you are. I’ll be there in a minute.”

Rainhorse and Lindsay heard more shots fired, then a return salvo. Lindsay saw a shadow moving toward them.  Rainhorse lifted his gun. A man in a cowboy hat appeared.

“Don’t shoot,” he said. “My name is Sam Steele. I’m a friend of Lindsay’s mother.”

Rainhorse looked up at the cowboy and noted the burn marks on his arms and face, “Jesus, Mister, you look worse than I do.”

“Sam, thank god!” Lindsay cried out. “There’s men out there trying to kill us.”

“I know,” he said. “We surprised them. They’ve dispersed. I have two men with me from the Brotherhood Protectors. We’re trying to run them down now.  Right now, I have to get you out of here.”

“This is Jackson,” she replied. “He saved me. We have to take him with us.”

Sam looked down at the big Cheyenne, laying in a pool of his own blood. Rainhorse made eye contact with Sam and shook his head.

“Rangers?” Sam asked, noting the tattoo.

Rainhorse nodded. “101st Airborne. You?”

“Third Battalion, Seventy-fifth regiment.”

“You were in Iraq, 2003?”

Sam nodded.

“Damn fine work,” Rainhorse said.

“I’m sorry we had to meet under these circumstances.”

Rainhorse nodded, “Explain it to Lindsay.”

“Lindsay, he’s not going to make it,” Sam said. “We can’t take him right now. He’ll slow us down. I have to get you to safety now.”

“No, I’m not leaving him,” she screamed. She fell at Rainhorse’s side.

“Lindsay,” Rainhorse began.

“Come on, get up you muscle bound bastard,” she cried.

“I can’t feel my legs. I can’t move,” he said. “You need to do what this man says.”

“I’m not leaving you,” she replied. Tears were streaming down her cheeks. “Not after everything you’ve done.”

“Lindsay, it’s too late for me now but remember what I promised?”

She nodded, “That you’d get me home.”

“I’m not home yet,” she cried out. “You have to come and make good on your promise.”

“You’re safe, now,” he replied. “I have done my job.”

 “No. You sacrificed everything for me. You never left me. I won’t leave you.”

He reached out and touched her hand. She was sobbing.

“Lindsay,” he said. “You’ve given back to me more than you could ever know. After all these years, I finally did something decent in my life. I got you back to safety. My life was so empty before I met you. You made my final days special. I need you to go… please.”

Sam reached down and took Lindsay’s hand.  She pulled away and hugged Rainhorse.

“Thank you. Thank you for everything,” she said.

“Thank you,” he answered, smiling weakly.

“Let’s go,” Sam said.

She stood. She smiled at Rainhorse and nodded, turning to Sam, “Ok, I’m ready. Which way?”

The two began to walk away. Lindsay was wiping tears from her face as she walked. Sam stopped.

“Give me a minute,” he said. He walked over to Rainhorse and squatted next to him, positioning his body so that his back was to her but also blocking the fallen man’s face. He looked back at Lindsay, then turned to Rainhorse.

“I want to thank you for bringing Lindsay back to us,” Sam said. “Her mother has been worried sick.”

Rainhorse nodded, “It’s been a tough journey. I’m happy it’s turning out so well.”

“Not so well for you, though,” Sam noted.

“I knew what I was signing up for,” came the reply. “I was prepared to pay the price.”

“You’re the one who took her in the first place?”

He nodded.

“Why the change of heart?” Sam asked.

Rainhorse paused for a few seconds, considering how to best answer the question.

“From what Lindsay tells me, you two haven’t gotten to know each other yet,” Rainhorse said.

“That’s right,” Sam admitted.

“Spend some time with her,” he said. “When you get to know her, you’ll understand the answer to that question.”

Sam nodded.

Lindsay wondered what was taking so long. She started to walk back toward both of them, then stopped. She saw Sam checking the pulse of the big Cheyenne. She then saw him put his ear to Rainhorse’s mouth, presumably to check for breathing.  Sam looked at Lindsay. He shook his head.

“I’m sorry, Lindsay. He’s gone.”

“No!” Lindsay screamed. “No.”

“We have to go, I’m sorry. Follow me.”

Sam began walking. Lindsay followed. After ten feet, she paused and turned back to Rainhorse’s body one last time. She opened her mouth to say something but no words came out.

Vandy had been waiting by the car, at Sam’s strong insistence. When she saw Sam approaching with Lindsay she burst into tears and ran toward her. Lindsay ran toward her mom as well. They embraced.

“Oh, dear god, thank you,” Vandy cried out.

“You’re an atheist, mom,” Lindsay replied.

“Not right now, I’m not,” she countered. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine, but my friend is dead,” she said.

“Oh, no. Steve?” Vandy asked.

“No, it’s Jackson, the man who saved me from the kidnappers. They tried to kill me, mom—several times. One man tried to rape me. Jackson saved me. He got me this far. We were almost home.”

“Where is this Jackson?” Vandy asked.

“I’ve called the police and an ambulance,” Sam said, “but I’m afraid it’s too late. I checked him before we left. He’s dead.”

Lindsay began to sob. Vandy embraced her.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. Let’s get you home,” Vandy said.