Primal Threat - Earl Emerson [120]
Thinking they would climb into some cleaner air once they reached the next grade, Kasey drove Jennifer and Fred around the end of the lake through dense smoke, but by the time they got to the south end of the basin they could hear fire raging above them. “I’m not going up,” Fred said. “No way.”
It was when they drove back through the intersection that they struck the bicyclist.
It was a shock to realize Scooter and Bloomquist had apparently gone down the mountainside without telling them. That they had to get this information from the cyclists galled Kasey. After they made it clear they weren’t giving them rides, three of the cyclists pedaled off into the smoke, their faces sooty and their eyes embodying the thousand-yard stare of men who knew they didn’t have long to live. It was a measure of their weariness that they didn’t put up too much of an argument.
Kasey still hadn’t decided quite which direction to drive when Stephens, the remaining cyclist, walked around and rapped on his window. “Don’t roll it down,” said Fred.
Kasey pushed the button and lowered his window, but only halfway. It was hard to hear what Stephens was saying over the stereo and the ineffective air conditioner, which was running full blast. “I said I know you, uh, you fellas don’t want to give me a ride, but…well, it would be worth your while if you did. There are going to be inquiries. The county sheriff ’s office is going to be looking into what went on out here. Accusations are going to be hurled.”
“And?”
“Basically, it’s going to be your word against theirs.”
“We don’t mind if you all end up in jail,” said Fred from the backseat.
“A very good case can be made for their side,” Stephens said. “Chuck falls. You shoot at us. We send a guy down to talk things over. You shoot him. Twice. We light off some firecrackers and run. You shoot at us again and pursue us.”
“Those really were firecrackers?” asked Kasey.
“Of course they were.”
“But you guys busted the gate,” said Fred.
“I don’t know anything about the gate.”
“Fuck you,” Fred said.
“No,” Kasey said. “Wait a minute. So what’s your point, Stephens?”
“It’s just…I feel I have so much in common with you guys. I mean, those firemen…they stick together, but we’re…from a different segment of the population.”
“Which segment is that?”
“We’re in the top one percentile. Your family is. I am. I should be in here with you guys.”
Kasey thought Stephens’s salary couldn’t possible be anywhere close to the Newcastle family income, but that wasn’t his concern right now. “Look, buddy. We don’t have a lot of time. Try putting it in English.”
“Okay. Yeah. Sure. You leave me here with these guys…there’s no telling what might happen when the police ask questions. I can see things both ways. They have some valid points. But so do you. I can see your side of things, and it would make your case unbeatable if you have me to back you up.”
“Just tell me one thing,” Kasey said, casting a sidelong look over his shoulder at Fred. “That revolver your friend had this morning. Was it loaded?”
“Well, right now…I’d have to say it was.”
“Was it really?”
“Don’t ask him shit!” Fred tipped forward in his seat, bellowing into Kasey’s ear.
Kasey said, “So you’re saying if we give you a ride, you’ll help us put those guys in prison, where they belong?”
“I don’t owe them any loyalty.”
“What if we give you a ride and you renege on the deal later?”
“That’s not going to happen. I don’t renege on deals. Ask anyone.”
57
Zak, Muldaur, and Giancarlo decided to go back and check on Stephens. It irritated Muldaur that they were being forced to retrace their progress in this smoke, because their time on the bike and maybe their time on earth was going to be limited by the volume of smoke they inhaled. It was having a palpable effect on his leg muscles, his throat was thick with it, and he could almost feel it nestling in his lungs.
In the solid wall of gray, they spotted Stephens’s bike on a mat of pine needles beside the