Page 101 of Battle Mountain

Joe wondered if she was actually a believer, or if she had chosen this moment to invoke a higher power.

Then he saw that she wasn’t alone. Two figures emerged from the dark timber, staggering back up the trail. The man wore the headlamp, and the woman was with him. They stepped into a small clearing between a wall of trees and where Joe had hidden. For a moment, Joe could catch a glimpse of them coming, starlight on their shoulders. They were about thirty yards away.

“Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God…”

The high-pitched whine of an engine revving cut through the stillness, and suddenly the two figures were illuminated by a single headlamp coming up behind them. Joe saw the man pause andturn toward the sound, but the woman broke into a panicked run toward the ponderosa.

It happened fast: The ATV with Axel Soledad behind the handlebars burst from the timber and bore down on the man with the headlamp. Joe saw a flash of steel in the starlight as the ATV roared next to the male activist and the blade was plunged into his side as if Soledad were performing a joust. The activist fell away, clutching his side and howling.

Joe stepped out from behind the tree just as Soledad rammed into the back of the fleeing woman and ran her over with the knobby tires of the ATV. After she was down, he hit the brakes and paused for a moment, the exhaust of the tailpipe curling up pink-colored in the rear of the vehicle due to its brake light. It was obvious that Soledad was planning to back up over her.

“Axel, freeze,” Joe shouted as he raised his shotgun. He was bathed in the white of the ATV headlamp.

Soledad looked up, puzzled. He’d obviously not seen Joe until that moment.

“Turn it off and stand down,” Joe barked. “You’re under arrest.”

Soledad glared at Joe; his twisted scowl illuminated by his gauge lights. He wasn’t happy.

Joe shouldered his shotgun and took a step forward. He needed to be wary of the blade Soledad had just used on the activist, so he moved to Soledad’s left a little.

Then Soledad leaned forward on the seat and gripped the handlebars and accelerated toward Joe with shocking speed.

As Joe dived for the cover of the trunk again, he held the shotgun out with one hand and pulled the trigger in the direction ofthe oncoming ATV. He hit the ground at the same time the machine smashed into the tree on the other side, rocking it and sending a shower of pine needles and a few broken branches earthward. Because he’d been pressed against the trunk itself, the impact of the collision sent shock waves through Joe, as if he’d been hit directly.

With a mouthful of dirt and covered by a carpet of dislodged pine needles, Joe raised himself to his hands and knees and peered around the base of the trunk. The ATV was wrapped around it, the engine dead and hissing. But there was no rider.

Joe scrambled back and located his shotgun. He listened for the sound of Soledad staggering around, but he heard nothing over the hissing.

Joe got to his feet and twisted his headlamp on. Ten feet behind the ATV, Axel Soledad lay on his back with his arms askew. His bloody blade was next to him in the meadow grass.

There was a baseball-sized hole from the shotgun blast in Soledad’s tactical vest where his heart would have been.

Joe quickly checked on the two people Soledad had injured. The male was crying and rolling from side to side in the grass. The woman was unconscious or dead.

“Stay still,” Joe said to the injured man. “I’ll call for help.”

The man stopped rolling and turned his face to him. There was terror in his eyes, and Joe realized the wounded man was looking at something over Joe’s shoulder.

Joe wheeled around to see that Soledad was struggling to his feet with his crutches. The shotgun blast had stunned him, but the body armor he wore had saved his life.

Before Joe could react, a suddenBOOMsounded from thedarkness of the trees and the left side of Soledad’s head vanished. Then he collapsed into a heap like a broken doll.

Nate stepped out of the timber holding his revolver in front of him in a two-handed grip.

“Are you okay, Joe?”

“Yup.”

“We got him,” Nate said. “We finally got that son of a bitch.”

—

Joe squatted downand placed the back of his hand up to Soledad’s lips. No breath. Axel Soledad was dead.

Joe sat down in the meadow with his shotgun across his lap. He leaned back and locked his elbows and threw back his head to the night sky. He felt equal parts stunned, triumphant, and sickened.

Then he heard the sound of helicopters approaching from the easternsky.

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