The Darkfall Switch (16 page)

They climbed a steep escarpment and then the trail curved along the edge of a sharp drop. Just below the crest there was a small thicket of trees. Some way past that, the path curved back down to thread its way through a narrow rocky defile. There was room enough only for one horse at a time, so Foster took the lead while they wound their way through the twisting passage. Suddenly the pass opened up to reveal a
small clearing, near the centre of which was a tiny lake. The sun was high, but one edge of the lake was not in the shadow of the surrounding cliffs, and Foster pointed to an area of smooth grass that shone in bright sunlight.

‘Ready for lunch?’ he asked, as she drew level.

‘You bet!’

They tethered the horses nearby and found a spot where they could spread out their blankets on the grass.

‘Should you check for snakes?’ she asked, looking around.

‘Done that,’ he replied. ‘It’s clear. Checked for bears too.’

‘Bears?’ she exclaimed. ‘Really?’

‘Yes, really. Perhaps a few elk as well.’

She looked at him and laughed. ‘You’re amazing! How do you know all this stuff? How do you remember it?’

‘Put it down to insatiable curiosity and a strange brain.’

She looked at him and slowly shook her head. ‘Anyway, will we see any elk?’ she asked.

‘Not likely at this hour. They tend to be out and about early and late in the day.’

He took the lunch packs out of their saddle-bags and, while he opened them and spread plates and glasses on the rug, she strolled over to the lake’s edge, dropped to her knees and dipped her fingers in the water.

‘It’s icy,’ she called, looking over her shoulder.

‘It’ll stay that way for most of the day. But it’ll feel warmer in the evening when the air cools off.’

She pouted mischievously. ‘That’s too bad. When I saw it I thought we might go skinny-dipping and get ourselves all-over tans.’

‘Ms Coleman!’ he said, feigning surprise. ‘You shock me. What a sinful suggestion!’

She came back and stood very close to him. Her voice was husky as she said, ‘Let’s sunbathe after lunch.’

‘OK. We’ll have this place to ourselves, I’d guess. Won’t be too many people round here, and any that do come we’ll hear as they approach through that defile.’

The motel had done them proud. The packs contained salad, enormous club sandwiches, cheese and apples.

After eating and drinking, they lay back on the grass for a while,
basking in the hot sunshine. Then she sat up, smiled, leaned across him and slowly began to unbutton his shirt.

‘Mr Dan Foster,’ she said quietly, ‘this is a really beautiful place. And I’m feeling really relaxed and happy. I want to share it with you.’

He reached up and loosened her top button. When the rest were undone she shrugged her shirt off her shoulders and unfastened her brassiere. Moving with swift urgency, they removed the rest of their clothing until they were lying naked on the grass. At first he lay on her, but after a while she rolled away and knelt across him, raised her arms languorously and threaded her fingers through her hair. ‘I feel wicked!’ she said. ‘Very wicked!’ She looked over towards the horses, but they were grazing contentedly, taking no notice of them. Then she leant forwards over him.

Afterwards, they stayed there for some time, dreaming dreams and thinking thoughts, until he stood up and started to dress. ‘Sorry to end this,’ he said. ‘I could stay here with you forever, but we should be getting back.’

‘I could stay here forever too,’ she whispered. Then she rolled over on to her front, rested her chin on her hands and said, ‘Oh Dan! Can’t we just build a camp-fire and stay out here, under the stars, all night?’

He looked down at her and smiled. ‘Another time, maybe.’ He bent to flick away a midge that had ventured near her bare shoulder. ‘And next time we’ll come better prepared. We’ll bring insect repellent. These little guys can make life a misery here. Now he’s found us he’ll go back to get his buddies. We’d best be off.’

They rode back through the defile and had just emerged at the other end when they became aware of a faint humming noise in the distance. At first it was little more than a distant drone, barely audible over the sounds of their horses’ hoofs on the rocky trail, but as they continued their ride it gradually became louder until at last they could make out that it was the harsh clatter of a helicopter. They could just see it in the distance: a black dot zigzagging across and over the hills.

‘I wonder what they’re up to,’ Foster said, frowning. ‘I’ve seen helicopters out hereabouts before, but they’ve usually been involved in some logging operations. These guys seem to be looking for something.’

The noise grew as they carried on and by the time they had reached the crest of the escarpment the helicopter was close enough to let them
just make out the shape of two figures sitting inside its Plexiglas bubble. Then, as if the occupants had seen the riders too, the machine made a sudden turn and headed towards them. Foster felt Starblazer pull nervously as it approached. ‘Easy, girl,’ he said and patted her neck.

Socks’ eyes widened in alarm and Janet gripped her reins tightly. ‘I don’t like this, Dan,’ she said. ‘She’s getting spooked.’

Foster was now very worried. It was clear that the horses were on the brink of taking off. He was fairly confident of his horsemanship, but was he good enough to have a reasonable chance of staying in the saddle if Starblazer set off in a wild gallop over this very rocky and uneven terrain? And then, what about Janet? She was not nearly so experienced.

The clatter swelled relentlessly. It became deafening as the machine rushed towards them and dropped until its landing gear was only a few feet above the ground. The down draught of its rotors created a vicious moving dust-storm under it, flinging leaves, twigs and stones out of the way. Now the horses became really agitated and started to prance and buck nervously.

‘Are you OK?’ Foster shouted over the noise.

‘I think so,’ she yelled back. ‘But this is going to test my two riding lessons.’

‘They’re idiots!’ Foster said. ‘If the horses take off we could both be in trouble.’ By then he had become convinced that this was no coincidence: the pilot was deliberately trying to scare them.

Relentlessly, the machine’s approach continued. It swooped low and started to come really close to them in a series of sweeping arcs. It was too much for the two animals. They suddenly broke and began to gallop in a frantic effort to escape, and it was all that the two riders could do to stay mounted as they streaked along the scarp, running parallel to its crest. The animals were now thoroughly panicked and were running wildly under their own blind volition, without any thought except to get away from the aircraft.

And still the machine followed. Foster suddenly realized the pilot’s intention: he and Janet were being driven towards the dangerous edge of the cliff ahead, the one that Randy Sanders had warned about back at the Lazy S. He couldn’t allow that.

He shouted to her, ‘Pull to the right! We’ve got to get away from the cliff.’

He saw her tug at Socks’ reins in response. Neither rider had much control of their mounts: the animals were being driven by fear now, the humans on their backs no more than annoying encumbrances. Foster and Janet were able to do little more than to try and deflect the horses’ headlong gallop away from the treacherous crest and down the side of the hill. The helicopter swung agitatedly to drive them back but now its course was hampered by the small thicket of trees they had passed earlier.

Foster looked ahead and saw a possibility of salvation there. ‘Get to the tree!’ he shouted. ‘But for Christ’s sake keep your head down. Really low down.’

She responded and bent down over Sock’s neck as they sped towards the trees. Perhaps the animals sensed that the trees might offer some protection, because it now became a little easier to guide them in that direction.

The helicopter swung up and away as the two horses galloped into the cover of the trees. Foster could hear it circling angrily in frustration, but he now had another urgent problem to deal with. Branches of trees were whipping past their heads and snatching at their legs as their mounts ran, but eventually the sounds that had frightened the horses began to fade and the riders managed to regain control.

When they eventually came to a halt they were both breathing deeply. Janet’s face was pale, displaying her fear. ‘What the hell was that all about?’ she asked.

‘Some idiots thinking they’ll have a bit of fun,’ he said. But deep inside he knew that it wasn’t true. He was absolutely certain that the helicopter pilot had deliberately tried to drive them to the cliff edge. And if he’d succeeded and they’d gone over, they and their horses would certainly have been killed. It would have been reported as another tragic accident. There would have been no witnesses. No clue as to why they’d fallen.

And the threat was still there. He could hear the helicopter circling the edge of their little thicket. He wondered if it would land, its occupants emerging to hunt them down on foot. The trees covered only a small area, so the hunt would be brief. But what would they do then? Were they armed? There could be little doubt now that the aim had been murder, but he felt that their hunters’ intention had been to achieve that aim by means of an accident – easily explained and soon
forgotten. Once firearms were used it would become much more difficult to tidily sweep away the deaths of two British tourists. No, he doubted that they would resort to using guns. And indeed there was no change to the machine’s noise: it continued to zigzag agitatedly along the edge of the trees.

Foster knew that he and Janet could hold out here and that the pilot would eventually be forced to quit as his fuel ran low. But what then? Once the machine had flown away, allowing them to make their way back to the ranch, what would be waiting for them there?

This affair had suddenly become very serious indeed.

At that instant another sound intruded: it was the engine of a vehicle. Foster cursed silently. Were these reinforcements?

But then the sound of the helicopter began to fade until it had disappeared into the distance. They waited, straining their ears to make sure it wasn’t just waiting further away. Foster wondered what the newly arrived vehicle was doing.

Then they heard a distant shout: it was Randy Sanders.

Foster gave a sigh of relief. ‘Here!’ he shouted. ‘We’re here, Randy. Coming out.’

They picked their way carefully towards the point from where Sanders’ voice had come and in a few moments they saw him standing beside his big pickup truck. He had a rifle in his hands.

‘What’s goin’ on?’ he shouted, as they emerged a little distance from him. ‘You folks OK?’

‘Yes we are,’ Foster replied. ‘But we’re glad you turned up.’

‘I heard the chopper. Wondered what it was doin’ here. Came to take a look. Brought the rifle in case there was trouble.’

‘Just as well, Randy,’ Foster said. ‘That helicopter spooked the horses.’

‘Not surprised. I’ve never seen anythin’ like it. The chopper was just buzzin’ back and forth like it was lookin’ for somethin’.’

‘It was,’ Janet said, calmer now. ‘They were looking for us!’

Sanders frowned at her.

‘We’ll explain back at the ranch,’ Foster said. ‘But be careful, Randy. You may have company there by now.’

Sanders stared at him with a worried expression. ‘What’s goin’ on?’ he repeated. ‘You folks don’t look like escaped convicts.’

‘We’re certainly not,’ Foster laughed. ‘But it seems we have enemies.’

Sanders shrugged and then pointed to a low hill. ‘Go past that rise there,’ he said. ‘Cut past the right of it and you’ll find a trail leading back to the ranch. I’ll take the long route. We should get there at about the same time.’

He was right – they saw his truck drive up to the ranch house just as they were approaching the Lazy S. They dismounted and he led their horses away, asking them to wait while he dealt with them.

When he returned they went up to the house and settled back in armchairs in the comfortable living room. Sanders introduced them to his wife, who brought them drinks and circled them curiously.

‘We don’t get folks out here from England,’ she said. ‘And now Randy tells me there’s bin some kind of trouble.’

‘Apparently, yes,’ Foster said, sipping at his Jack Daniel’s. It wasn’t bad. ‘I have some information that some people seem keen to get hold of. Or to stop me dealing with.’

‘Information?’ Sanders asked.

Foster gave them a very brief summary of the past few weeks’ events. He didn’t say anything about his fears that their hunters may be returning for them soon.

‘Jeez!’ Sanders breathed when he had finished. ‘It’s like a movie.’

‘It’s a scary one for us,’ Janet agreed.

‘So what’re you folks goin’ to do now?’ Sanders’ wife asked.

‘We don’t have much choice,’ Foster said. ‘We’ve left everything back at the motel: passports, tickets. The safest thing is to get back to London. I’m sure that whoever’s after us won’t be able to do anything once we’re there.’

He hoped his voice sounded more confident than he actually felt. But it was true: they had to get back to London.

As they sped down towards their motel Foster turned on the radio and tuned to a country-music station. As it played quietly in the background Foster asked her if she was saddle-sore. ‘No,’ she replied. ‘You were right about the saddles too. I could have gone on forever.’

‘Still, you’ll enjoy the hot tub now.’

The faux-American accent returned as she answered, ‘You’re darn tootin’!’

They had been driving for less than an hour when Foster stopped the car suddenly. A small cloud of dust failed to stop with them and drifted along the road in front.

‘What?’ Janet asked.

He leant forward and turned up the radio to catch what the newsreader was saying: ‘…
his vehicle was found down a gully beside Rampart Ridge Trail. Zak Beckermann, Chief Executive of Powerplant Dynamics, said that Mr Matthews had been on vacation and was fond of driving some of the more adventurous trails in the mountains. He said that the driver had been a well-liked senior executive in his company, and he would be sadly missed by his family and his colleagues
.’