Book of Days_ A Novel - James L. Rubart [122]
Cameron's stomach lurched. Gillum was insane.
Kirk kept the gun pointed in Taylor's direction as he gazed into the pool, expectant rapture on his face. The silence of the valley pressed in, the only noise was his steel-toed boots shuffling over the shale surrounding the pool as he sidestepped along its edge.
"How do I read it? What should I be seeing?"
"It was never real in a literal sense, Kirk."
"Nice try, Stone. Tell me how I get it to work." He pointed the gun at Taylor's head again.
Taylor walked toward Kirk.
"Stop!"
Taylor opened his hands. "The few who find this place do hear from God, but only when they slow down long enough to listen. He is alive and this"—Taylor motioned to the mountains surrounding him—"testifies to His glory and the magnificence of His creation. But there is no magic in the pool, no special chant that will tell you your past or present or specific details about the future unless you are willing to—"
"As you've probably figured out by now, I'm willing to do anything."
"No, Kirk, you're not. You must choose—"
"Shut up!" A shot whizzed by Taylor's head a foot to the right and splintered a tree behind him. "Tell me how it works!"
"You're not here to kill me."
"Really?"
"All right, if you are, then shoot me." Taylor took another step toward Kirk.
"What?"
"If it's truly what you want, shoot me." Taylor put his arms out to the side. "Go on."
Rage, sorrow, and fear passed over Kirk's sweaty face, all three emotions blazing out of his eyes in seconds. Then only rage remained. "You're ready to eat a bullet?"
"Yes."
Kirk's trigger finger shook.
"He's lost it, Taylor," Cameron said. "Don't make him snap."
Kirk snorted. "You're next, Cameron." He waved the gun back and forth between Cameron and Taylor, his finger still twitching. "Tell me what I need to do and we can all live happily ever after."
"You can put the gun away. And both Cameron and I will forget you ever came here."
"I'm finished with your games, Stone." Kirk's gun exploded with another shot, this time the bullet streaked by Taylor's head by no more than six inches. "Will you start talking, or do you want to see how close I can get to your head with each progressive shot?"
"There's nothing here for you to see."
Kirk turned and walked back toward the pool, glancing over his shoulder at Cameron and Taylor every few feet. He stared at the water as his eyes grew cold. When he finally turned back to them, the blood had drained from his face.
"Not acceptable. This doesn't make sense. This can't be all there is. The book has to be real." He bent down and touched the lake, then stood and flicked his fingers, drops of water arcing against the sun.
"I'm going to count to one. After that I will shoot you in the leg. If that doesn't convince you to talk, I'll shoot you in the arm, then the stomach. If that doesn't scare the cat into letting go of your tongue, I will start shooting Cameron." He grinned and spun toward Cameron. "In fact, maybe I should start with your new young friend."
Kirk turned the Glock on Cameron and moved his finger over the trigger.
The sensation of floating surged through Cameron and his mouth opened. He gave a tiny shake of his head and whispered, "Not yet."
As he glanced from Kirk's trigger finger to his face to the barrel of the Glock, time slowed.
It's not time. I'm not ready to die, Jessie.
An instant later something large smashed into Kirk from the side knocking him to the ground. A blur of clothes. A man, now on top, blocking a punch, driving his knee hard into Gillum's throat, and in the same fluid motion grabbing the gun out of his hand. The man bounced to his feet and took three rapid steps backward, the weapon trained on the mayor's head.
Dark hair, wiry build—it was Grange.
The Native American turned to Taylor, breathing hard. "Gillum has talent. He lost me for a time and his tracks were difficult to follow."
"My friend." Taylor grasped Grange's forearms