Montana Summer Ch. 16

This is a work of fiction and any resemblance to any real person is just proof there is a pattern to randomness in the universe. All characters are eighteen years and older.
The ringing of the cell phone roused Kenny from his slumber. He rubbed his eyes as he stared at the display.

"Who is it?" Stella's voice was groggy.

"Fuckin' Tony!" Kenny pressed a button on the cell phone to silence the ring. He glanced at the clock. "Kind of late for a social call."

After returning from the bathroom, he looked at the display on the cell phone. "Looks like he left us a message. I wonder if he's sending us his love." There was no humor in his voice.

Stella shivered for a moment. The past few days had been bliss for her. There had been no talk about Tony or the gold─just following the road during the day, and finding some place to spend the night.

Kenny listened to the voice mail and deleted it.

"Well?" Stella sat up in the bed.

Kenny smiled at her. "I don't think we should expect a Christmas card from Tony." He slid back into bed and took her hand. "He's pissed. He knows we've given him the slip."

"Do you think he'll be able to find us?" The anxiety was noticeable in Stella's voice.

"Anyone can find anyone. It all depends on how much money─and how much time─they're willing to invest." Kenny paused and put his arm around her. "So far we're doing all the right things. We're not using the cell phone to make calls. The credit cards I'm using are corporate cards from dummy companies, which Tony wouldn't know anything about. We're not staying in any one place for long. I even registered the motor home to one of the companies. We're not leaving much of a trail for anyone to follow."

"That makes me feel a little better." Stella snuggled close to Kenny.

"There's one more piece of news," he added. "Looks like Mr. Campbell made his getaway."

Stella was feeling sleepy again. "I'm glad. He seemed like a nice man."

---

Tony closed his cell phone in disgust. It had been days since he had last spoken with Kenny. It was too late to do anything about him tonight. In the morning, he would call an associate and start the hunt for Kenny and his woman. Norm Campbell was more of an immediate threat. He doubted Kenny would go to the police, but Campbell was the unknown card.

"How long until we're ready to leave?" Tony checked the time on his watch.

"Two, maybe three hours," Vincenzo replied.

Tony nodded and dialed another number on his phone.

"What do you want us to do with the horse?" One of the men interrupted Vincenzo's train of thought.

"Take him to the edge of the clearing, and fire a few shots into the air to send him running."

The man was relieved. He liked horses and didn't want to see this horse harmed. Much of his early life included working around the barns and stables of various racetracks. He looped the reins around the saddle horn, and as he yelled, he slapped Charlie's horse on the rump. He fired a couple of shots into the air, more for Tony and Vincenzo. The man suspected this horse was no stranger to the sound of a firearm.

Charlie tried not to show any emotion when he heard the two gunshots. Relief flowed through his body when he caught a glimpse of his mount at a full gallop. Charlie knew the animal would run for a bit and then circle back towards the reservation. His horse was safe.

Charlie's mind kept going back to Ryan's vision and Ryan's words. "Charlie, I saw my son, and you were teaching him Lakota." Visions were true. He had been trying to loosen the rope his hands were bound by, and so far without much success. But the vision told Charlie he would survive.

"That fucking son-of--a-bitch!" Vincenzo's voice seethed with anger.

"What?" Tony turned and looked at Vincenzo.

"That fucking Campbell took the can with the larger nuggets." Vincenzo stared off into the darkness.

"How did he manage it?" Tony felt his own rage building. Since his arrival, it had been one frustration after another.

Vincenzo shook his head and slammed the door to the small storage compartment which held the gold. "He was still working when I left for town."

Tony squeezed Vincenzo's shoulder until the younger man winced in pain. Tony's voice was soft, but laced with venom. "He has betrayed us." Tony ignored the fact that he and Vincenzo had planned Norm Campbell's murder. "And even worse, he has stolen from me. We will find Mr. Campbell and we will deal with him." Tony's blue eyes seemed even colder in the silver glow of the moonlight.

Vincenzo nodded. He knew exactly what his employer meant. Mr. Campbell would die, but not before suffering for a very long time.

---

Norm Campbell paused. He looked back in the direction of the camp. The sounds of two pistol shots in the distance caused him to shiver. He wondered if the old man was dead now.

He was grateful the moon had risen. There was enough light for him to travel without using the flashlight to search for obstacles and, as a result, he was able to travel faster. He studied his map, checked his watch, and tried to estimate how far he had gone.

Several times, he spotted horse tracks in the snow. He assumed these were from the old man and his mount. They gave him hope there was a house, or houses, in the direction he was headed.

Norm took one of the bottles of water from his pack and took a drink before slipping the backpack over his shoulders. He could feel the can containing the nuggets against his back. His original plan hadn't included taking any of the gold. It was a spur of the moment decision. He decided he needed proof to back up his story. The nuggets would make a powerful statement.

He got back on his feet. "Okay, let's get moving." It felt comforting to hear his voice break the silence of the night.

---

Drums beat in the background as the singers chanted. Ryan stood still, his eyes focused on Spotted Owl.

"Tonight our purpose here comes to an end. We will pass Hihankara and travel the Wanagi Tachanku, the Way of the Spirits. You are ready; we will no longer be needed after tonight."

Ryan nodded. "I think I'll miss you."

Spotted Owl put his hand on Ryan's shoulder. "We will meet again." He pointed to the sky. "We will ride together in the next life."

The paint felt cool on Ryan's face as Spotted Owl carefully applied it. There was a meaning for each stroke and each color. A single eagle feather already hung from the back of Ryan's head signifying the others accepted him as a warrior.

Even though it was late fall, almost early winter, Ryan was dressed the same as the other warriors, naked from the waist up, and wearing buckskin breeches. He felt neither cold nor warm. He was in the world of the Wanagi, the world between the living and the dead.

As they mounted their horses, Ryan pointed to a lone rider on a pale horse off to one side. "Who's he?"

Spotted Owl turned to Ryan, his voice hushed. "That is the pale rider, Death. He rides with us tonight."

A shiver passed through Ryan as his thoughts immediately shifted to Charlie.

---

As the time passed, Charlie began to get worried. He listened as the last of the gear was stowed in the compartments of the motor home. Charlie strained to hear the group standing below the window of the RV. As long as he was here, in the shadow of Baxter's, there was hope for rescue. Once on the road, his chances and his future seemed dim.

"The pilot will be waiting for us at the airport." Tony addressed the group. "Vincenzo will come with me. The rest of you will drop the motor homes off at the airport and rent a couple of vans to transport the equipment back to Denver."

Charlie shivered as he heard the next order. It confirmed his worst suspicions.

"Find a bridge and dispose of our guest over the side. Do it before the sun comes up."

"Any questions?" Vincenzo addressed the four men. He waited for a moment for a response. When there was none, he pointed to the motor homes. "Let's hit the road."

Once in the SUV, Vincenzo inserted the key into the ignition and started the vehicle. He turned the lights on, put the vehicle in gear, and began to move. All of sudden his foot hit the brake pedal hard.

Neither of the two men who entered the motor home looked at Charlie as they took their places in the driver and passenger seats. The man in the driver's seat turned the key and the engine came to life. A greenish glow from the instrument panel reflected off his face.

The vehicle began to move and stopped almost immediately. "What the fuck?"

Tony had uttered the same words a second earlier, "What the fuck?"

Tony and Vincenzo stared at the six riders blocking the trail to the road.

"Must be friends of our guest back there." Vincenzo retrieved an automatic pistol from his pocket. The metallic sound of the slide as he released it punctuated his statement.

"It's fuckin' freezin' out, and they're almost naked," remarked the man in the passenger seat.

Charlie slid over in his seat so he could see through the windshield. A feeling of elation flowed through his body when he recognized the Wanagi. The feeling was short lived when he saw the pale rider of Death standing alone to one side.

"Ryan," Charlie whispered as he recognized the young man seated beside Spotted Owl.

"Aim for the wheels." Ryan whispered to Spotted Owl. "They can't travel if we shoot the tires out."

Spotted Owl passed the word to the other riders. It was time.

Ryan reached over his back and pulled an arrow from his quiver. He waited for Spotted Owl to give the signal. He felt every muscle in his body tense.

"Heka Hoy!" Spotted Owl yelled the Lakota war cry. His heels kicked at his horse, urging him to a full gallop.

Using only his feet to guide his horse, Ryan pulled back on the bowstring. The feeling of the knuckle of his index finger tucked in below his cheekbone was so familiar. He let go of the string just before passing the tire. Reaching over his shoulder, he pulled another arrow from the quiver on his back.

Tony and Vincenzo stared unbelieving as they watched the six warriors split into two lines and charge the vehicles. As the warriors passed the vehicles, they let loose their arrows and immediately reached for new ones while at a full gallop.

"Jesus! This is fucking nuts!" The man in the passenger's seat readied his pistol. He opened the side window and fired off a half dozen shots in rapid succession as Ryan and the Wangagi made a second pass.

"You missed!" The driver spat out in disgust.

Charlie smirked. "It wouldn't matter how well you shot, you can't kill someone who died well over a hundred years ago."

The driver and his passenger both turned and looked at Charlie.

---

Norm had spotted the riders as they rode past on the ridge above. He recognized the rider in the lead as the same one he had seen earlier. He didn't hear a sound as they passed. A cold shiver shook his body as he glimpsed the rider on the pale horse. Somehow, Norm knew he didn't want to feel his gaze upon him.

A speck of light was now visible in the distance. Norm broke into a jog as he focused on the light. He felt a sense of urgency. Each step meant about three feet. Three feet closer. He no longer stopped to check his bearings; the bluish-white light was the beacon he followed.

His shoulders ached from the weight of the pack. He began to wish he had left the gold behind. As he ran, his lungs burned and his legs began to feel like clumps of lead, but he continued, his eyes focused on the light, which drew nearer with each stride.

Norm's body tried to tell him to give up and stop, but his mind prevailed. His mantra was one more step, one more step. He chanted the words silently in his mind in time with his feet hitting the snow-covered ground.

His heart was pounding a staccato beat and he could hear the blood rushing in his ears. His hand tugged down on one of the shoulder straps of the backpack. The other arm pumping back and forth as he jogged.

Individual buildings were visible now. His spirit soared— he was going to make it! There were lights on in the nearest house. He leaned against the doorframe, his chest heaving as his body tried to get enough oxygen. With the little strength he had left, he began to pound on the door.

The light from inside almost blinded him when the door opened. Norm pointed in the direction he had come from. "Old man. Creek. Hurry."

Norm collapsed to the ground and began to vomit.

The man who answered the door looked at the woman standing behind him. "Go get Walter." He knelt down, put his arm under Norm's, and helped him into the house.

---

"What are you doing up?" Milt's wife tried to focus on the digital clock on the nightstand.

Milt was pulling up his pants. "I can't sleep. I'm heading down to the office to get the search for Charlie started."

"Be careful." Her voice was thick with sleep.

"I will." Milt sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled his boots on. He looked at his wife who had fallen back asleep and whispered, "I love you."

Normally, like most police departments in the country, they would wait for twenty-four hours before beginning an investigation on a missing person report. This was different. This was Charlie Red Elk, a man for whom Milt had a great deal of respect. Charlie wasn't a man to just up and disappear from his family for no reason.

His conversation with Phil Rivers played in his head as he drove to his office. Milt wasn't a man to believe in coincidence. Too many things were pointing in the same direction: the murder of the man charged with theft of relics from the Lakota burials on Baxter's, the sudden disappearance of the attorney and the woman originally charged as an accomplice, the photographer with the mob background showing up out of the blue, and now, the disappearance of Charlie Red Elk. According to Walter, the tracks indicated Charlie had headed down the trail which skirted the base of Baxter's Mountain.

The common denominator in Milt's mind was the gold. He nodded at the on-duty deputy as he entered the Sherriff's Department. "Quiet tonight?"

The deputy jumped off the desk where the cute, young dispatcher was sitting. "Yeah, whole lotta nada going on."

The young deputy headed towards the break room. "I'll make a fresh pot of coffee."

As he unlocked the office, he looked at the dispatcher, "You battin' your eyes at my deputies again, Sherry?"

Sherry shot Milt a knowing grin and batted her eyes at him. "Who, me? Would I do something like that?"

Milt was grateful for the lighthearted moment. He unlocked the gun cabinet in his office. He selected a shotgun and a high-powered rifle with a scope. Out of habit, Milt checked both weapons with a meticulous eye.

---

"What the fuck are you talking about?" The driver looked at Charlie.

Charlie gestured in the direction of the Wanagi with his head. "They're ghost riders. They died over a hundred years ago. This mountain is sacred ground. It's their final resting place."

"He's just trying to spook us." The passenger looked at the retreating horses and riders.

The driver pulled his pistol from the pocket of his coat. "Yeah? He's doing a good job of it."

Vincenzo steadied his arm against the open door of the SUV and emptied the ten rounds from his 9mm Beretta at the retreating horses. "What the...?"

"You missed!" Tony barked. "I thought you could shoot."

Vincenzo had already pulled the spent magazine from the weapon. He slid a fresh magazine with ten rounds into the weapon and released the slide. He shot Tony a withering glance. "I can. I didn't miss, some of those shots had to have hit."

Ryan followed Spotted Owl's lead, circled around, and stopped. Some of their arrows had penetrated the tires while others had bounced off the tread. At least one tire in each of the vehicles was making a hissing sound as air leaked out.

"Aim for the lights this time," Ryan suggested to Spotted Owl. "It will be harder for them to see."

Spotted Owl nodded and passed the order to the rest of the riders.

"Here they come again." Vincenzo opened the door of the SUV and knelt on the ground, resting his hand on the open window and using the door as a shield.

The lead rider raised his bow and pulled back, letting an arrow loose. Vincenzo had the rider in his sights and pulled the trigger rapidly, emptying the magazine into the rider's chest.

Vincenzo was stunned. His intended target hadn't fallen from his horse. He was confused as the rider continued past the SUV. He ejected the empty magazine and let it fall to the ground. Vincenzo inserted a loaded magazine into the handle of the weapon and released the slide.

Charlie's ears ached from the sound of the two pistols firing simultaneously.

"Jesus! What the fuck is going on?" There was concern now from the man in the passenger seat. "I got one fuckin' clip left, and we haven't hit a damned thing."

"Yeah. Me too, the rest of my stuff is in my bag." The driver watched in his mirror at the muzzle flashes coming from the vehicle behind them.

Charlie sensed the rising fear in the two men seated in front of him. He was relieved to see Ryan appeared to be unharmed.

Ryan was exhilarated. Two of his arrows had found their mark. Just the running lights of the motor homes and the park lights of the SUV were left glowing.

Tony felt more than a little uneasy. He had seen puffs of snow kicked up by the bullets. That was all, though—none of the riders appeared to have been touched. He could hear the shots ringing out from the vehicles behind the SUV, and they seemed to have as much success as Vincenzo.

"Thirty rounds, and nothing to show for it," muttered Vincenzo. "I have ten shots left."

"It's got to have something to do with the guy we got tied up in the RV." Tony reached for his door handle. "Maybe we can use him to get out of here."

"This thing's not going anywhere. Both tires are going flat on this side."

Tony stepped out of the SUV and looked at driver's side of the vehicle. "There's one flat over here." He looked back at the crippled motor homes and then at the mounted warriors. The scene was surreal. The light of the moon bathed the mounted warriors in a silvery glow. They seemed to be waiting.

"Get the fucking old man out here," Tony snarled at Vincenzo.

---

"He's waking up." The woman called to the two men talking in the kitchen.

Walter set his coffee cup down, walked into the living room, and knelt down by the sofa. "What do you know about an old man?"

Norm looked at Walter. It took him a few moments to realize he had made it to safety. "The creek at the end of the mountain. You have to hurry. They'll be leaving, that is if they haven't already."

"Who?" Walter questioned.

"Tony and Vincenzo." Norm sat up and gripped Walt's arm. "You have to hurry! They plan on killing him as soon as they are out of town."

"Why?" Walter was confused as to why anyone would want to kill Charlie.

Norm spotted his backpack sitting on the floor. He reached for it and pulled the can containing the nuggets out, removed the makeshift lid and dumped the contents on the floor at Walter's feet.

"Sweet Jesus!" Amos exclaimed. "Is that...?"

Norm nodded his head. "Gold. The creek is full of gold. They've been pulling gold out of the creek for over two weeks now."

Walter stared at the nuggets lying on the floor. "Put them back in the can. I'm going to see if I can get hold of Milt."

He picked up the phone and dialed 911.

"Nine-one-one dispatch, how can I help you?"

"This is Walter Red Elk. I need to get hold of Milt right away."

"He's in his office, let me transfer you."

"Yes, Walter?" Milt had just finished his cup of coffee.