Dark Justice (21 page)

“Come on!” Rick said, slapping her shoulder. He turned and bolted into the forest; she followed. She assumed he had seen the same thing she did and realized that they were all in jeopardy. It might be more collegial to wait until Al reached them, but they couldn’t afford to take the risk.

At any rate, he was not far behind. She could hear him, even as she ran. He had left the clearing, had plunged into the forest, and he ran much faster than she did. If he wanted, he’d catch up in no time. But she knew that was probably not what he’d do. More likely he’d go a different way. He’d try to confuse the ranks even further. Lead them off in a different direction. Give her and Rick time to disappear.

“This way!” Rick commanded. She saw he was trying to steer her in a different direction. Stupid—she had to stop concentrating on Al and start trying to keep her own neck out of the noose. Rick knew the way back to their camp; she didn’t. She had to stick with him or she would soon be lost.

She followed Rick as he plunged through the bramble and undergrowth. Plants and branches brushed past her, sometimes slashing her face. She didn’t have the time to worry about it. She had to keep moving forward, keep plowing ahead.

She saw the fallen tree trunk just ahead of her. Rick had jumped it; surely she could do the same. Without breaking her speed, she leaped into the air.

She cleared the trunk with room to spare, but she landed with a thud. Her right foot touched down on something hard—a large rock, she thought—and her ankle twisted out from under her. Her body followed close behind, tumbling to the mud in an unceremonious heap.

Rick broke his pace. “Come on!” he growled.

Tess tried to push herself up, but she could tell her ankle wouldn’t support her weight for a good long while. “Go on without me,” she whispered.

Rick started to argue, then thought better of it. He turned and started to resume flight—

When they both heard the sound of twin cracking noises rippling through the still air.

Two shotguns. Just behind them.

“Lookee here, Sam,” one of the men said. “I think I’ve caught myself an honest-to-God terrorist.” The logger pointed his shotgun right at Rick and gave him a look that said he wouldn’t hesitate a second before firing.

“I hate terrorists,” the other logger said. “Goddamn criminals.” He spat on the ground just beside Tess’s face.

“You and me both.” The man with the shotgun walked over to Rick, grabbed him by the scruff of the neck, and threw him down to the ground.

Suddenly Tess heard the sound of additional footsteps kicking through the forest.

“Well, look at this. Sam and Max done already finished the job for us. I guess we can have a little party.”

Tess turned and, to her horror, saw two more loggers moving toward them, dragging Al’s limp body behind them.

Dragging, because he could not walk. He didn’t appear to be conscious. His eyes were closed and were already swollen and black. Blood trickled from his left ear.

“Looks like you started the party without us,” the man with the gun said, glancing at the limp body dumped unceremoniously onto the ground beside Tess. “That wasn’t very neighborly.”

“Well, there’s still a hell of a lot more to do.” One of the men who had dumped Al snarled at Rick. “I guess you must be one of those Green Rage boys, right?”

Rick didn’t answer.

“Well, I’m feeling a bit of rage right now myself,” the man said. The two men with shotguns stepped forward, guns trained on Rick, while the first man primed his fist for action.

Tess turned away. She couldn’t bear to watch. The sickening sound of it alone was almost more than she could bear. She tried to block it out, but no matter what she did, no matter what she tried, she heard each and every blow, each and every shrill cry of pain, and in time, each and every plea for mercy.

“W
HAT THE HELL DID
you think you were
doing
?”

Ben paced furiously outside the cell. He knew he was not doing a good job of controlling his emotions—wasn’t really doing a good job of controlling anything. But sometimes it felt good just to let it rip.

“Do you understand that we’re trying a murder case here? That it starts next week? That the death penalty is still very much a possibility?”

Inside the cell, Tess and Rick squirmed. Tess had managed to survive their capture by the loggers with only minor bruises and abrasions; apparently hitting a woman was still contrary to most loggers’ code of ethics. But Rick had not been so fortunate; the pounding he’d taken had split open a cut above his right eye and dislocated his jaw. He’d been released from the hospital only shortly before Ben arrived. He had a bandage tied under his jaw and around his head, knotted at the top. He looked like a little boy with a toothache.

Even Rick’s punishment, however, didn’t compare with what Al had suffered. Al was still unconscious, still in the hospital. And likely to be there for a good while yet.

“You can’t imagine what we’ve been through,” Tess said. “Couldn’t we have just a smidgen of sympathy?”

“
No
!” Ben fired back. “What you did was absolutely, positively stupid. In more ways than one.”

“It shouldn’t have been,” Rick said, groaning. “It only became stupid when we got caught.”

“Wrong. It was stupid the second you tried it. Because at that instant you put Zak’s trial in jeopardy.” He whirled around, swinging from one side of the cell to the other. “Who do you think is going to hear Zak’s case, anyway? Does the phrase ‘jury of his peers’ ring any bells?”

Tess frowned.

“And what do you think those jurors are doing right now? Well let me tell you. They’re reading news reports about the so-called eco-terrorists who were out playing high school pranks in the forest and got caught red-handed. Do you think that makes you look good? Do you think that makes Zak, the leader of the pranksters, look good? Do you think it’s going to help me garner sympathy for him with the jury?”

“As you’ll recall, we considered halting our activities pending the trial,” Tess said. “We decided against it.”

“Well, think again!” Ben spun around, furious. As if his job wasn’t impossible enough already, he had to deal with these zealots running around whipping up community anxiety and antipathy.

Ben heard the clang of the metal door, then the clatter of footsteps coming down the corridor. Sheriff Allen was approaching; Maureen was close at his heels. She ran ahead, pressed herself against the cell door, and stretched her arms through the bars. “Oh, God! Rick! Tess! How are you?”

“I’ve been better,” Rick mumbled, walking toward her. “But they say I’m going to live.”

“Good. In that case—” She reared back her arm and slapped him sharply across the side of his face.

“Oww!” Rick screamed. He moved away, clutching his sore jaw.

“That’s for being such an imbecile,” Maureen said, teeth clenched. “And for putting the entire mission in jeopardy.”

“It wasn’t my idea!” Rick said, a pained expression on his face.

“I don’t care. If you didn’t start it, you should’ve stopped it.” She paused, drawing in her breath. “I can forgive Tess. She’s new—she could easily be led. Or misled. But you have no excuse, Rick. You’re our acting leader. You’re supposed to be responsible!”

“Al was the one—”

“You know Al well enough to know that he’s always hotheaded. Always acts before thinking. That’s why I never send him out unless you’re with him. You’re supposed to be the voice of wisdom.” She pressed as far as possible through the bars. “Not an
asshole
!”

Sheriff Allen partly covered his face. “Should I step outside?”

Ben shook his head. “Don’t. We may need you for riot control.” Somehow, listening to Maureen’s fury had helped calm his own. Ben eased Maureen away from the bars. “Look, I think we’re all in agreement that this particular action was misguided—”

Maureen wrestled free of his hands. “You can say that again. In the future, all Green Rage activities will be discussed, analyzed, and voted upon by all members
before
they are executed. Understood?”

Rick looked at the floor sheepishly. “Understood.”

Maureen threw up her hands. “I just can’t get over how stupid this was. This must be the stupidest thing any Green Rager ever thought about doing!”

Sheriff Allen cocked an eyebrow. “Stupider than dressing up in a big hairy monster suit with a bright red nose?”

“There’s something we’re forgetting here,” Tess said quietly, finding her voice now that the anger in the room was subsiding. “Something more important than any of this.”

All heads turned in her direction.

She spoke but a single syllable. “Al.”

All at once, their expressions turned somber. She was right. In the midst of the shouting and haranguing, they had almost completely forgotten. Al, who was still in the hospital connected to an IV.

Better than any of them, he’d known the cost of taking on the Magic Valley logging community. And he’d paid the price.

After a long silence, Ben segued from his role as annoying moral conscience into his role as attorney-at-law “Sheriff Allen, when do you think I’ll be able to get these two released? I’m sure we can make bail.”

“That won’t be necessary.” Allen unclipped the cell keys from his belt. “That’s what I came to tell you. You’re free to go.”

Tess’s eyes widened. “What? But the loggers who brought us in—the charges—”

“There aren’t going to be any,” the sheriff explained. “I gather the word came down from the central office. The logging company is dropping all charges.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Actually, it makes perfect sense,” Ben said. “Think about it. If they press the destruction of property charge, we’re likely to raise the minor issue of assault and battery. They’re better off letting it go and hoping we’ll do the same. After all, Al is hurt pretty bad. The loggers are claiming they acted in self-defense, but if it ever came to trial …”

“Wow,” Rick murmured. “The suits must be pissed at those loggers who trounced us.”

“I doubt it,” Ben said. “All in all, I suspect they’d rather have it known that some Green Ragers got their butts kicked than have the Pyrrhic thrill of lodging minor felony charges that might not even bring jail time. It will get across the message those suits most want heard: eco-terrorism is a dangerous business. And it will probably boost logger morale.”

Rick became sullen and silent.

“Anyway,” Ben continued, “if they’re free to go …”

Sheriff Allen took the hint. He unlocked the cell door and escorted the prisoners out. “By the way,” Allen said to Ben as they marched down the corridor, “I was thinking about dropping by your office later.”

“Oh?”

“Do you …” He cleared his throat. “Do you by any chance know if that legal assistant of yours has dinner plans?”

“I’m her boss, not her social secretary.”

“Right.” He craned his neck awkwardly. “Well, I guess I’ll just go by and ask her myself.”

Ben frowned. “Excuse me, but didn’t you have lunch with her today?”

Allen shrugged sheepishly. “I guess I did at that. But you know what my mama used to say. When you see something you want …”

Ben waved his hands. “I really don’t want to hear this.”

Allen opened the heavy metal door that led to the outer office. “You don’t mind me seeing Christina, do you?”

“Of course not,” Ben said sharply. “For that matter, I’ve got a two-hundred-pound investigator on my staff. Do you want to date him, too?”

A
FTER THEY LEFT THE SHERIFF’S
office, Rick and Tess and Ben and Maureen headed toward the hospital. Nothing had changed; Al still wasn’t conscious. After a brief visit, Ben left for his office. Maureen walked with him. Ben wasn’t sure if she appreciated his company or just didn’t feel safe walking alone. Probably a bit of both.

As he and Maureen rounded a corner, Ben suddenly heard great peals of laughter emanating from the other end of the street. And he discerned two approaching figures, Christina and Sheriff Allen. Their arms were linked, and they were both sopping wet. Head to toe.

The four of them stood facing one another on the sidewalk. Christina opened her mouth as if she was about to speak, but another gale of laughter erupted before any words were spoken. She bent forward, convulsed with merriment.

Ben arched an eyebrow. “Sudden rain flurry?”

Christina looked up, her arms wrapped around her midsection for support. She tilted her head toward Allen. “He—he—” It was all she could manage. More hysterical laughter convulsed her.

Sheriff Allen stepped gamely into the breach. “We’ve been taking a walk,” he said.

“Ah,” Ben replied. “That explains it.”

Christina leaned against the nearest brick wall for support, water dripping from her arms. “You wouldn’t—” She stopped again, convulsed and overcome. “You wouldn’t believe what this guy—” She could go no further. She glanced at Allen, then abruptly burst out laughing again.

Ben tried not to seem peeved. “How’s the work on the prosecution exhibits coming?”

Christina bit her lower lip. “Oh, fine, fine. I’ll be back in the office”—she drew in her breath, trying to regain control—“as soon as I put on some dry clothes!” More giggling ensued. Christina pounded on the brick wall, giddy and breathless.

“I’ll see you there,” Ben answered. He lightly tugged Maureen’s arm, and the two of them moved on down the sidewalk. He knew he shouldn’t be annoyed, but he was, just the same. Christina and the sheriff appeared to really be hitting it off. He supposed he was used to feeling as if he and Christina were a team, working together. In all the time he had known Christina, this was the first time he had felt like an outsider.

He and Maureen chatted most of the way back to his office, and Ben was relieved that the conversation didn’t relate in any way to murder, eco-terrorism, or politics. Instead, she mostly talked about herself, which Ben greatly preferred. She had grown up in North Dakota, she told him, and had been twelve when her daddy, now deceased, took her to Benali State Park and taught her the rudiments of trekking and mountaineering. She’d been hooked on the great outdoors ever since. Before he died, they’d traversed several peaks of varying difficulty, including Mount Rainier, her favorite.