“And end up being out here the rest of the day? No thanks. If it’s just grandma in there with a rifle then I want to know if we’re wasting our time standing out here getting cooked.”
“Okay then. Let’s do it.”
Sensing their excitement, Nugget pressed her head between the seats. Her eyes darted back and forth between the two men.
“What about her?” Will asked.
“Nugget stays. Until we find out if it’s safe.”
Moving fast, they slipped out of the truck and approached the porch with their weapons drawn. Robert soon felt the eyes on them too, although he couldn’t tell where the watcher was hiding. For the first time in several hours he’d become aware again of the hellish ordeal his body had been through. The pain buzzed within his flesh like a swarm of stinging wasps.
“We’ll knock first,” Will whispered, “And if we don’t get an answer right away I’ll kick in the door.”
“I have no objections to that,” Robert said, breathing heavily. His face was a mask of sweat.
Will shot him a look.
“How are you feeling?”
“Like shit, but I’ll live. Those pills are wearing off and I’m getting edgy.”
Both men lunged up the steps to the porch. Robert was about to knock on the front door when they were startled by loud ragged laughter.
They turned and saw Marsh sitting up on the porch swing. He’d been lying there all along, waiting patiently for them to make their move. Robert leveled his revolver at the man’s head until Will came up from behind and pulled his arm downward.
“Don’t do it, Bobby, the guy’s got a bomb.”
Robert hadn’t even noticed. He’d been too distracted by the familiar laugh. The mocking laugh that had been haunting him for the last three days. He then saw what Will was talking about. A bundle of dynamite—maybe six to eight sticks in all—duct taped together and wired to a crude igniter.
“Welcome, Mr. Crain,” Marsh said around a smoldering cigar. Blood streaked down from gashes in his forehead. His burnt face was as bright red as the dynamite he cradled in his hairless, charred arms. Robert and Will stared. They couldn’t believe a man in Marsh’s shape could still be conscious.
“Who the hell are you?” Robert asked.
“You don’t recognize your old friend Marsh? I’ve been waiting a long time to meet you in person. By the way, how’d you enjoy those pictures I took of your family?”
Robert’s eyes turned to darkened pools. His heart kept a steady cold drum beat.
“Where are they?”
“You’ll know shortly,” Marsh said, licking his lips. “You do have the map, don’t you?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t play me, Robert. I’m talking about a little oblong-shaped box that speaks to you through its carvings. And inside the box there’s a map. As it turns out, all of you great grandsons of Horn got one. But if you didn’t bring it with you, well, I’m afraid things will get tragic very fast around here.”
Robert took a step closer. Will grabbed him by the shoulder and held him back.
“If he sets if off Bobby there’s going to be nothing but a crater here for the locals to come and gawk at…”
Will glanced over at Marsh, who seemed to be enjoying himself.
“He has the fucking map.”
Marsh closed his eyes and smiled. “Your pal is a wise man, Mr. Crain. It must be nice for you to know someone who can keep a cool head.”
Robert sucked in a deep breath and gradually stopped straining against Will’s hand. Then the curtains in the window behind Marsh began to flutter. A moment later he saw his wife looking out at him from inside the shadowy house.
Peggy…
It felt like a lifetime had passed since he’d last seen her. Three evenings ago she’d kissed him goodnight while he lay on the couch doped up after his car accident. He had been restless and incapable of falling asleep that night. Worried about how Nugget was doing at the emergency clinic and concerned he was keeping Peggy from studying for her final exams.
Robert wished he’d gone back to bed as she’d asked. Maybe he would have been able to ward off the attackers.
Maybes just don’t cut it now.
Marsh followed Robert’s eyes and turned his head to see Peggy behind the glass. He wagged his tongue at her suggestively.
“Hello Peggy. Can you hear us?”
“Peggy nodded, her eyes locked on Robert’s.
Marsh turned back to face Robert.
“Good. This is the deal, folks. Robert and I have a place we must go. But unfortunately the rest of you are not welcome to tag along…”
“I’m not going anywhere without my wife and son,” Robert said.
Marsh glared up at him. “Don’t be unreasonable. We’ve come so far now it would be a terrible shame if I just ended everything where it now stands. So look hard into that window Crain, and tell me you don’t care if everyone dies.”
While Marsh caressed the dynamite with his hand, Robert stared into his wife’s eyes and saw everything she’d been through. Connor stepped beside her and lifted his hand. Robert waved back. Then Peggy motioned her son to leave before raising Wilbur’s pistol in both hands and aiming it at the back of Marsh’s head, waiting for Robert to give her permission. Robert wished he could have said yes but the chance Marsh could still set off the bomb wasn’t worth the risk.
He shook his head at her not to try.
When his eyes returned to Marsh he could feel his insides tearing apart. Peggy swayed back from the window, tears streaking through the dirt on her face. A woman Robert did not know came and led her away to the rear of the house where she could no longer be seen.
“I’ll do whatever it takes to keep them safe,” Robert said.
“Now that’s what I like to hear,” Marsh said, “But before we progress any further with the festivities, you two can start by disarming yourselves.”
Reluctantly, Robert and Will did as they were told.
Once he was satisfied they had completely disarmed, Marsh got up from the loveseat and walked off the porch with the two men moving cautiously beside him, their eyes never leaving the bundle of dynamite.
When they were out on the graveled driveway, Marsh ordered them to remove their cell phones and stomp them to pieces. Then he handed Robert a hunting knife and told him to slash the tires of Will’s truck.
Just as Robert was about to slash the last tire, they heard a vehicle rumbling up the road toward the house. A black SUV skidded to a dead stop within a few feet from where Marsh and Will stood. Mr. Frosty slid out of the passenger seat and limped up to Marsh.
“About time you got here,” Marsh growled. “What the hell happened to you boys?”
Mr. Frosty raised his arm and pointed. “Those sons of bitches almost killed me.”
“Is this true?” Marsh asked.
Robert and Will didn’t answer.
“What about the others?” Marsh asked.
“We lost three back at the railroad tracks.”
“And how did you luck out and the others didn’t?”
“I got jumped. Then they took me home and stuck me inside a freezer so they could get me to talk.”
“So that’s how they found out where I was?”
Frosty lowered his head like a dog about to be punished.
“I didn’t tell them anything. Not right away. Then I got so damn cold I couldn’t feel anything anymore. I thought I was going to die. I’m sorry Mr. Marsh. I didn’t want to.”
“Not to worry Gomez. This is all going to work out just fine.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. In fact, I’m going to give you a chance for a little payback. So go help yourself to one of those guns up on the porch.”