No Sanctuary

He kicked the camera into the fire.

He turned the suitcase in his hand, inspecting it, apparently undecided about its fate. Then he carried it to his car, leaving his knife on the ground by the fire. Gillian quickly jerked up her knees. The rope stopped her, squeezed her throat. She swung, keeping her neck muscles tensed. Blood seemed trapped inside her head. She felt as if her face were swelling up, as if her eyes might pop from their sockets. Shooting her legs down, Gillian stood up straight and gasped for breath. She looked toward the car. Her vision was dark as if clouds had covered the sun.

Holden was swinging her suitcase into the backseat.

He came back to the fire, apparently unaware of Gillian’s attempt.

Squatting, he picked up the enormous knife. He poked the fire with it, shoving some unburnt rags into the leaping flames. Then he used the blade to separate some fiery brands from the main pile. They formed a smaller pyre at his feet. He eased the broad blade into the midst of the flames and rested the handle on the ground.

He left it there.

Oh, Jesus.

Standing up, he faced Gillian.

“Hey,” she gasped. “Come on.”

Grinning, he pulled off his shirt. His torso was lean and tanned and muscular. He tossed his shirt to the ground.

He wore no belt. His belt was strapped around Gillian’s waist.

He unbuttoned his slacks and lowered the zipper and his rigid penis sprang out and someone not very far away yelled, “Pick it up, man. What’s the matter, you got lead in your ass?”

The livid color drained out of Holden’s face. He tucked his penis in. He zipped his pants and buttoned them and whirled around. He grabbed his knife out of the small fire. He snatched up his shirt.

The shirt fluttered, clamped in his teeth, as he ran at Gillian.

He swung the heavy blade. It thunked the branch above her head. The rope dropped in front of her like a dead snake. Holden grabbed it, then let it go. His shoulder rammed Gillian’s belly. She folded over him.

He ran with her.

His shoulder pounded her guts, keeping her breathless and unable to yell for help.

Her face was against his bare back.

She saw the brown wooden grips of a revolver above the waistband of his slacks.

She reached for it with her bound hands.

And almost got it.

Please!

Holden flung her into the trunk of his car and slammed the lid shut.

Chapter Twenty-four

“Let’s take a breather,” Bert said, and sat down on a rock shelf beside the trail.

Rick sat down beside her. When he leaned back, the sloping rock took the weight of the pack off his shoulders.

“Whatever happened to your cigars?” Bert asked.

“Want one?”

“Maybe a puff of yours.”

Rick slipped free of the straps. He stood up, turned around, and opened a side pocket of his pack. The pocket was partly open where he’d kept his revolver. He found matches and the pack of cigars. Sitting down, he unwrapped a cigar and lit it. He took a few puffs, savoring the sweet aroma of the smoke.

Then he passed it to Bert.

She poked it into her mouth and wiggled her eyebrows.

“Hooray for Captain Spalding,” Rick said.

She blew smoke in his face and handed the cigar back.

“Funny,” he said. “You don’t look worn out, weary, exhausted and pooped.”

“I’ve picked up some of your tricks.”

“Isn’t necessary, though. I don’t want to run into the girls anymore than you do.”

“It’s been nice without them.”

“It was even nicer by the stream,” he said.

“Yeah. Can’t win. I feel like we’re getting dumped on right and left.” She leaned back. The rear brim of her Aussie hat bumped her pack. The hat slid down her face. She caught it, held it on her thigh, tilted her face into the sunlight and closed her eyes. “It would’ve been so wonderful.”

“It was for a while.”

“Yeah,” she muttered. “Before a bunch of assorted goons put in their appearance.”

That morning, after dressing, they had left the tent. The girls weren’t up yet. And they still weren’t up when they returned from the stream where they’d washed and brushed their teeth. Back in camp, they built up the fire, made coffee and a fine breakfast of scrambled eggs with chunks whittled off the bacon bar. As they finished eating, Bonnie came out of her tent.

“Andrea’s zonked,” she said. “Didn’t get much sleep last night.”

Rick felt himself blush. I didn’t do anything, he told himself. He wondered if Bonnie had still been awake when Andrea returned to the tent after making her offer. Had Andrea told her about it?

“Just woke up long enough to say goodbye to our friends?” Bert asked.

“That’s about it. I’ll get her up, though. We don’t want to keep you waiting.”

“That’s all right,” Rick said.

“We’re going to head over to a place we found on the other side of the lake,” Bert explained, “and spend the day there.”

“I thought we were going to take the trail that bypasses the mountain.”

“We’ll be staying behind,” Bert said.

Bonnie nodded. Rick thought he caught a brief look of relief on her face. “Well,” she said, “I guess we’ll go on. Andrea might not be too happy about it, but... you two didn’t come out here to have us in your hair.”

“We’ve enjoyed traveling with you,” Bert said.

“Yeah,” Rick said.

“It’s certainly been an adventure,” Bonnie said.

“Sorry about that,” Rick told her.

“Well, I think if you hadn’t been with us, those guys really might’ve started trouble. So thanks.”

They were folding their tent and Bonnie was sipping coffee by the fire when Andrea appeared. She got to her feet in front of her tent and stretched in the sunlight. She wore her faded blue shorts and her gray T-shirt. “You guys look like you’re about ready to hit the trail,” she said.

“They’re not going with us,” Bonnie told her.

Frowning, she walked over to them. “What’s the deal?” she asked.

“Bert and I are planning to camp at a place we found on the other side of the lake,” Rick said.

Andrea looked hurt. “What’s the problem?”

“No problem,” Bert assured her. “The guys are out of the way, and...”

“I thought we’d all stick together. I mean, we’re even parked in the same place.”

“Well,” Rick said, “we want to have some time to ourselves.”

She stared at him.

In the moment that their eyes met, Rick felt as if she were asking if he really wanted to leave her, was this Bert’s idea, did he have to go, did he understand what he would be missing?

“So, it’s adios, huh?” she asked.

“Not for a while,” Bert said.

Andrea returned to the fire. She sat there with Bonnie, sipping coffee and talking quietly while Rick and Bert finished packing.

Shouldering their packs, they went to the girls. “Guess we’ll be on our way,” Bert said.