Primal Threat - Earl Emerson [59]
“I thought they both had bad haircuts,” said Muldaur.
“He fell about a hundred feet,” said Zak. “Maybe more. And you’re right. They both had bad haircuts.”
“Jesus H.” Giancarlo jogged through their makeshift camp toward the bluff, trailed at a much more cautious pace by Morse and Stephens.
Once they were alone, Muldaur looked at Zak. “Scooter’s not going to accept the fact that he killed his buddy, is he?”
“It would be hard for even a normal guy to accept.”
“If either one of us had gotten ahold of him, we could have stopped it.”
“He must have still been drunk from last night.”
“Of course he was. They both were. Plus the big guy was afraid of heights. People who are afraid stiffen up. It makes their balance worse.”
“He had no business being out on that ledge.”
“No.”
“You think Scooter meant what he said about coming back to kill us all?”
“You know him better than I do. Does he calm down after a tirade, or does he just keep getting more wound up?”
“All I know is he can hold a grudge forever.”
“Then we better take what he said seriously.”
“He comes up the hill with a loaded rifle, how are you going to stop him?”
“Good point. Maybe we should hop on our bikes and ride out of here right now.”
“Ride where?” It was Giancarlo, followed in ragged succession by Morse and Stephens, both of them pale after having viewed the corpse. Giancarlo had seen lots of dead bodies in his career in the fire service and looked somber, but just as shocked as the others.
“Maybe we should put some distance between us and that group down below,” Muldaur said. “Scooter swore he’d come back and kill us all.”
“That’s just plain silly,” said Stephens.
“Not if we’re dead,” said Zak.
“I’m sure he didn’t…He couldn’t have…It wasn’t meant to be taken seriously. He was upset.”
“When people with rifles get upset, bad things tend to happen,” Muldaur said.
“Why was he threatening you guys?” asked Giancarlo.
“He claims we caused it,” said Zak. “And he wasn’t threatening just us. He said all of us.”
Morse threw Zak a morose look. “People say lots of things after a tragedy. They get overwrought. We were talking to them for a couple of hours last night, and I didn’t see anything to lead me to believe any of them were homicidal maniacs.”
“You only need one homicidal maniac,” said Zak. “In fact, with a gun you only need one homicidal moment.”
“He was upset because his buddy fell,” said Stephens. “That’s all.”
“He’s pissed because his friend is dead, and he claims we did it.”
“Well, did you?”
“No, but that’s what he claims,” said Zak. “It was an accident, but he was the one who bumped Finnigan and nudged him off.”
“What were you guys doing on the bluff?” Stephens asked. Stephens had a habit of looking into Zak’s eyes as if he thought he could read Zak’s mind. When taken in conjunction with his complexion, which seemed too pale for somebody who spent so much time outdoors, Zak found it disconcerting; it was as if he had distant relatives who were vampires.
“I was out there enjoying the view. You’ll have to ask them why they showed up. If you want the truth, I think Scooter came to push me off.”
“You don’t actually think that? I mean, this paranoia of yours…Seriously, it’s gone far enough, don’t you think?”
“They were there to hurt me. I know that.”
“Come on. I mean, why would he want to hurt you?”
“Maybe because I’m going with his ex-girlfriend?”
“Oh, for gosh sakes. That’s just…Let’s go down and get this straightened out right now. And by the way, what were those shots we heard?”
“Gee, I don’t know,” said Muldaur, sarcastically. “Bullets coming up the hill kind of in our general direction. I don’t know what that could have been.”
“We need the cops,” said Giancarlo. “We need to call them anyway, because of the accident.”
“I’d call on my cell,” said Stephens, “but it’s not working way out here.”
“We could take this down,” said Morse, who suddenly had a pistol in his hands, gripping it in the careless manner of someone unaccustomed to handling firearms. Zak watched him violate two essential rules of weaponry: unwittingly