Page 36 of Passion's Wicked Torment

“There!” declared Ray Torry, pointing. “There he is!”

All eyes turned to the top of the eastward hill. Kristin felt a mix of great relief and terrible fear for Sean’s safety as she saw the object of their stares. Sean McShane was standing at the very apex of the rocky hill, silhouetted against the morning sky.

McShane stood without any protection, his rifle held in front of his chest. Even at this distance his black britches, the scarlet of his uniform coat and the unmistakable flat-brimmed hat were clearly visible.

Ambrewster aimed carefully and got off two shots. McShane did not flinch. The bullets went wide. Ambrewster cursed. “It’s impossible to hit him at this range. But get as good a look at him as you can. That’s our man.”

Johnny grabbed Ambrewster’s shoulder and spun him around to face him. His voice was filled with anger and disbelief. “He’s a Mountie?”

“You can see for yourself, can’t you?”

“You brought us in to knock off a damn Mountie? A cop?” He moved back a pace. “Ambrewster, you’re crazy. Living out here in the sticks has made you loco. Me and my brother, man, we’re not dumb enough to knock off a damn cop!”

“What’s the matter? You scared?”

“No, just smart. Can you believe this man, Ray?”

But Ray’s attention was focused on the woods around them, listening with ears perked, scanning to make sure there was no one else with the Mountie. He left the arguing to his younger brother, who was the brains of the outfit. “You tell him, Johnny-boy.”

Ambrewster squinted over his rifle again and squeezed off another shot. It churned up a splintering of rock on the mountain, several feet below McShane.

Johnny angrily swiveled Ambrewster back to face him. “We don’t play games in Chicago. We know the limits. We don’t knock off cops. Now you got us all the way out here for nothing, and you’re going to have to pay. Three grand apiece, just like we agreed on.”

Ambrewster was not frightened of Johnny Torry. He slapped his hand away from his shoulder and stood up to his full height, his expression cold and calculating. He had everything figured out. This hitch in his plans did not bother him because he knew he was cunning enough to handle it. “You listen to me, punk. You want your money, you’re going to have to help me knock off this Mountie. Because the money’s in the town bank, just like I told you, and he is now standing between us and the bank. Or haven’t you noticed?”

"I—"

“Shut up. There’s more. Knocking off this McShane is not like knocking off a cop. He’s a renegade Mountie. He ignores most any crime short of murder, and he hardly ever wears his uniform. They only use him because no one else would sign up in this area. So the rest of the R C M P aren’t going to be falling all over themselves to go after us. Understand?”

“Here’s what I understand, Ambrewster. Me and my brother are going to get double what we agreed on. Six grand apiece, that’s our new fee. You either agree to that, or you don’t.” His rifle was raised slightly now, held loose and ready for action. Ambrewster looked at it and understood that if he did not agree, he would not live to enjoy any of the money in his bank account.

He nodded and put on a wolfish grin. “Sure, Johnny-boy. There’s plenty to go around. I agree to that.” Johnny would not be placated by the grin. He was all business now. “Here’s the way I figure it,” he said. “He’s alone out there.” He nodded toward the Mountie. “Otherwise he wouldn’t be grandstanding it like that. If there were more than just him, they’d have sneaked up on us from different directions.”

“He’s alone all right. I know why he’s coming after me, and he wouldn’t want witnesses around to watch it.”

“So I say you and Ray keep him busy up there atop the hill, and I’ll circle around and sneak up on him from behind.”

“Fine. There’s only one path up that hill. The rest of it is too rocky to climb. It’s just one big boulder really, with jutting rocks all over it. You can take the path that’s up the left side. It’s covered with tall wild grass, and you can manage it on foot. And he won’t be able to see you coming either, until you get almost to the top. That’s the only place where the path is in view.”

“You’ll keep him busy. Right?”

Ray spoke up for the first time. “I’ll keep him busy. But it almost don’t look like we need to. He’s a dumb one. Lookit how he just stands there staring down at us.”

From behind them suddenly came the sound of Kristin screaming to McShane. “Sean, look out! They’re going to—”

But before she could get the words out, Ambrewster was upon her, shoving his hand over her mouth. She tried to bite him, but his palm pressed so hard against her that it was impossible. Then Ray Torry was with him, taking a red bandanna from a saddlebag and stuffing it into Kristin’s mouth. He tied it in place with her own scarf.

She couldn’t scream now. She could barely keep from choking. Ambrewster shot her a stare drenched with violence. “I’ll take care of you later for that.”

“All right,” said Johnny from where he was still scanning the bushes near the edge of the clearing. “I’m off.” In a half-crouch, he disappeared into the bushes.

The other two men began firing at McShane in long intervals so as not to drive him away with too threatening a rate of fire. McShane still stood silhouetted against the now brightly lit sky, his legs braced apart. He took aim with his rifle and fired back, missing by a long shot.

The exchange of shots went on for a half-hour. It was crazy, since none of the men would be able to hit the others except by an extremely lucky shot. So why didn’t McShane stop this nonsense and guess what they were really up to? Kristin was beside herself with fear and worry. Johnny Torry would be upon him any second now, yet McShane did not move from his perch atop the hill. Didn’t he realize what their plan must be? He could see that one of the men was missing from the encampment. He must realize it! she thought to herself. But obviously he didn’t.

“Johnny-boy will be up behind him any second now,” said Ray happily. “It won’t be long now.” He was happy because he was thinking about the extra 3,000 dollars he would earn as a result of this little hindrance, which turned out to be not much of a hindrance at all. And then, when the Mountie was out of the way, there would be the girl for him to take pleasure in. He turned his head back for a moment to look at her, becoming excited again seeing her strung up almost nakedly, anticipating what it was going to be like.

Suddenly there was a loud scream of agony from the hill. Ray jerked his head back to the front. It was Johnny’s voice, and the scream went on and on.

Ray tensed and became ashen. “What’s he doing to him? What’s he doing to my brother?!”

McShane, though, was obviously doing nothing. He remained on the top of the hill. He was casually reloading his rifle after having just fired down at them again.

The sound of Johnny’s screams continued, more agonized than before. “What in the hell is happening to him?” Ray demanded, bolting out of the clearing. “Torry, wait! He must have another man with him!” “I’ve got to help Johnny-boy!” he cried as he disappeared from view. They heard the thrashing sound as he tore through the bushes. He appeared several minutes later at the base of the hill, circling around it. Then he was gone from sight again. Ambrewster began firing at McShane, desperate to keep him occupied again. But this time, McShane did not respond as he had earlier. He turned and disappeared from sight.

“Torry!” Ambrewster yelled in a panic. “He’s gone from the top! He’s on his way down to you! He’s—” But there was a rifle shot, more muffled than the others, not as sharp. It seemed to come from the side of the hill. Then there was no sound at all. The screams of Johnny Torry had ceased even before the shot by a few seconds.

Kristin perked up her ears for any sign of who might have been the survivor. Ambrewster did likewise. He looked over at her, underscoring the fact that they shared a common crucial interest now: They both needed to know who had survived that enc

ounter.

Looking at her, he had an idea. He glanced at the hill to make sure no one was coming forward, then went to the tree where Kristin was suspended. He put down his rifle and quickly took a knife from its scabbard on his belt. Then he cut the ropes at both her ankles. He reached up and slashed the rope binding her wrists together above the tree branch. Kristin immediately crashed to the ground, her knees too weak at the moment to support her.

“Get up, get up,” he ordered, putting the knife to the side of her throat as he pulled her up by her arm. She rose shakily. The first thing she did was yank down the hem of her sweater, pulling it back into place. Then she pulled up her pants. “Get that gag off your mouth,” Ambrewster said.

Gladly she fiddled with the knot behind her head. Her fingers were too numb, though, and her hands too shaky from the physical ordeal of having been suspended for so long. Ambrewster knocked her hands away, inserted his blade point inside the cloth scarf and sliced it open. Kristin spit out the gag. She took deep breaths of air, finally able to breathe through her mouth again. Ambrewster retied her wrists behind her.

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