thinking, sensed Joe's fear the way a predator sensed prey Joe lowered his hand to the butt of his revolver and felt his thumb unsnap the strap that secured it in his holster.
Only when the blue eyes raised over the top of the trees did Joe realize that the man was following the road, past the downed timber and into the spruce. Joe found he could breathe again and his breath shuddered out.
The man stood staring into the trees above Joe for a moment, then turned and peered through the opening in the alcove at the other mountain, the one on the east side with the granite knuckles. It was as if he were taking a measurement, comparing this mountainside with the other.
The man turned on his heels, without a glance back, and Joe heard the engine of the truck come to life. But instead of proceeding down the road, the pickup turned sharply and started climbing up the other side of the mountain, straight away from Joe. A plume of dirt shot out from the Ford's tires as the black pickup shifted into four-wheel-drive low.
Joe untied Lizzie, ignoring her glare, and swung himself into the saddle. He could breathe again, but the terror he had felt when he thought the man saw him had not yet released its grip.
He could hear the Ford as it climbed, but could no longer see it through the trees. He was surprised there was a road over there because he hadn't seen it.
Then he had a thought, and it chilled him. The man had estimated where the cabin was located in terms of elevation on the mountain. Joe guessed the man was working his way up the facing mountainside to take a position directly across from where he thought the cabin would be.
Joe had a decision to make, but none of his choices were worth a damn. 'Joe,' he could almost hear Marybeth telling him, 'You have really done it this time'
'Let's go, Lizzie.' Joe barked, turning her and spurring her on so she loped up the mountain road in the direction of where the cabin was supposed to be.
***
Twenty MINUTES BEFORE Joe had discovered the Mercedes SUVJohn Coble had drawn his gun, stepped up on the slat board porch of the low slung log cabin, and kicked the door open. He had entered and had pointed his pistol at the man inside, who was seated at a table eating his lunch. Coble was winded from the climb so he leaned back against the doorframe to rest. The cabin was simple: a single large room with a kitchen, dining area, fireplace, and desk. A darkened doorway led to the only bedroom.
'I know you were expecting your lawyer, Stewie, but let me introduce myself,' Coble wheezed. 'I'm Mr. John Coble, and I've spent the last two months trying to kill you and others of your ilk.'
Stewie Woods was frozen where he sat, a spoon filled with soup raised halfway to his mouth. Stewie's face was hard to see because Coble's eyes had not yet adjusted to the darkness inside the cabin.
Coble paused to take a couple of deep breaths of air and then continued. 'What I have to say is simple. Get out of this place as soon as you can and don't look back. Don't ask a bunch of questions because we don't have the time. A manhunter named Charlie Tibbs could show up here any minute. Don't stop until you're out of the country; get yourself to Mexico or Canada or wherever you can get to fast. Get on a plane and go overseas if you can. Contact no one and just flat run'
Stewie lowered the spoon into the bowl. His words were raspy and filled with air when he spoke, as if his voice box was a carburetor that had the mixture set too lean.
'I guess I've been expecting you. I just didn't realize you would be so old,' Stewie rasped. 'Somehow, that makes it worse.'
A woman stepped from the bedroom rubbing sleep from her eyes. 'Stewie, I...' she said before she noticed Coble and gasped.
'Britney this is John Coble,' Stewie said, looking stiffly over his shoulder at her and wincing in pain as he did so. 'He is one of the men I told you about.' Stewie Woods is in bad shape, Coble thought.
Britney's face drained of color as she stared at Coble.
Stewie turned back in his chair. 'This is Britney Earthshare. She lived in a tree to protest the logging of an old growth forest. She's famous.' Coble squinted at her. 'Yeah, I remember. I remember I thought that was stupid.'
Stewie chuckled at Coble. 'Britney's been helping me out while I recover. She's a saint.'
Coble grunted.
'Why don't you sit down and talk to me for a few minutes?' Stewie asked politely 'You've probably got a pretty good story to tell.'
Coble's eyes were still adjusting to the darkness in the cabin. As Stewie Woods's features began to appear, it seemed to Coble like a Hollywood special effect where the closer he looked, the worse it got. Stewie was horribly disfigured. His face was monstrous. His prominent features had once been a jutting jaw, well-defined cheekbones and languid blue-green eyes, but now those outstanding features -were ragged mutations. One eye was completely closed, the lid concave over an empty, seeping socket. Stewie's nose was flattened to one side of his face, and the exposed nostril burred and flapped like the beating of a hummingbird wing when he exhaled. Coble cringed and looked away Britney took a position in back of Stewie with her chubby hands on his shoulders. Her eyes were still wide.
'I don't blame you,' Stewie said to Coble. 'I still scare myself sometimes. Especially in the morning when I look in the mirror and expect to see the old Stewie. I used to be a pretty good-looking guy you know'
Coble looked back but focused on a spot somewhere above and to the left of Stewie's head so he wouldn't have to look at him again.
'I don't have time to sit down and chat.'
'You're doing a good thing, aren't you?' Stewie asked. 'That's impressive.'
'I'm not here to save you or protect you. I don't want to be your friend. I still think you and your ilk are shit heels Coble shook his head. 'I'm amazed that you are still alive.'
