TWENTY-FIVE
I picked up the tin cup to my right, swirling the amber contents before raising it to my lips and finishing it off, the liquor was good quality and a pleasure to drink even from so poor a vessel. The fire from the potbelly stove in the corner of the room had warmed my chilled bones and I'd be sorry to leave the comfort, but I was worried about Gin and I'd spent as much time with Verdon Spencer as I could stomach. "I'll see your bet, and double it." I said, tossing in 10 match sticks.
His eyes were on me, thin slits dominated by orbs as black as coal, focused for any crack in my countenance which might give clue to my hand. We'd been playing for over two hours, and my pile of match sticks clearly showed a superior skill. It had come as no surprise to me; Spencer was an easy mark. In less than ten minutes of play, I'd determined his style and had adapted mine to suit the game. I'd let him win a hand here and there, just to keep his interest stoked but now, like a cat with a mouse, I'd grown weary of toying with him and figured it was time to move in for the kill. Fingering his meager hoard he spread the matchsticks out and counted, there were only nine.
"Oh … you don't have ten left do you? I guess the hand is mine then." I stretched my hand to reach across the table and merged the pot with my winnings. "Too bad we weren't playing for cash, but I think you'll agree the stakes were mighty high."
He scowled at me and made a lunge for my cards, "No fair." I said, holding them tight to my breast. Standing up, he grabbed them anyway, yanking them out of my hand, a storm cloud passed over his surly features, "What the hell…" He blurted. "You bluffed me!"
I stiffened my frame in fake bravado, "That's why they call it gambling Big Guy." I retorted boldly. "I believe I'm tonight's big winner, but I tell you what," I appeased attempting to cajole the outlaw, "you keep the matchsticks and in a couple nights the two of us will see how big of a fire we can light." He was still glowering at my hand in disbelief. He'd underestimated me, and I had a feeling he had now guessed I was more than clever with a deck of cards. Setting his teeth on edge he threw the cards back on the table; they hit my winnings sending matchstick flying in every direction.
I replied to his action by squaring my shoulders and raising my chin. "I shall require food, soap and water for bathing and clean clothing for both myself and Mrs. Sasse, before we can keep our date; I think three days should give me enough time to heal."
His lip twitched at the corner but I couldn't tell if it was in humor or disdain. "You damn well better be worth it."
Raising an eyebrow I smiled, "Like I said, it'll be a night to remember as long as you live."
He escorted me back to the storeroom; with a shove he pushed into the stone walled quarters slamming the door shut behind me. After the warmth of the second floor the room that made our prison cell seemed even damper and colder than before. Gin had been sleeping on the cot but she sat up with a start at the bang of the door. Even in the dim candle light I could see heavy bruising on her face and neck.
She was in pain but that didn't stop her from trying to come to my aid, "How bad did he hurt you?" she asked hobbling across the room.
I wrapped my arm around her waist to support her, "I'm fine, Gin, he didn't lay a hand on me. I learned a long time ago, men like to think there's no game they can't win. We played a little poker with my virtue at stake."
"You won?" she questioned.
I nodded, "I bought a little time hopefully enough to come up with a plan and a way out of here."
She shook her head, "there's no way out, at least not for me, but if you find a way out, go and don't be looking back." Shaking my head, I helped as she eased her body back on the cot.
"Lay down." I ordered gently while pulling the blanket up over her body. "You're tired Gin, it's hard to have much fight in you when you're worn out. You just rest now. I'll come up with a plan that'll get both of us out of here." She nodded; glad to have some of the burden lifted from her. The tension eased from her face, but she didn't close her eyes.
Taking the candle next to the bed, I started walking around the room, studying the supplies stock piled there. "It looks like there's enough gunpowder to blow us to kingdom come in these kegs, and enough alcohol to make us not give a damn about the trip." I set the candle back on the top shelf and the flame danced violently. Cocking my head, I looked at it, "Humph, that's odd." I mumbled.
All of the sudden the reason for the flickering flame came to me. I opened my eyes wide in wonder, it couldn't be, but it suddenly made sense. My blood thundered through my veins in excited expectation, I didn't say a word, but repositioned the candle from the top shelf to the floor behind me; I moved to the side of the cupboard and ran my hand between the stone wall and the wooden back.
"What are you doing girl?" Gin asked, her voice taking on my excitement but not knowing the reason why.
"That's it." I exclaimed. Hurriedly, I began unloading the shelves of jugs, crocks and whiskey bottles, until they were empty, digging in with my feet I braced a shoulder against the side of the cabinet, it took all my strength just to get it to budge but once it did it moved as smoothly as a locomotive on a track, revealing the mouth of a cave.
Gin sat up in bed, "Saint's preserve us!" she exclaimed tossing aside the covers and making her way to my side, her pain all but forgotten by the excitement of the moment. She picked up the candle from the floor and held it high as I ventured forward into the dark.
There was a rush of cold clammy air. I walked ahead guided by the light shining from behind, stooping lower and lower as the stone walls closed in on me. Remembering Gin, I stopped and looked back. "Come on." I said, holding out my arm in offer of support. Tentatively, she moved forward. Taking the candle from her hand, I wrapped my arm around her. We hadn't gotten more than ten yards when she sagged against me. In the flickering candle light I saw exhaustion and defeat in her face.
She squeezed her eyes shut and ran a shaky hand over her brow, "Cassie, I can't be going no further, you go on without me, hurry now."
"Gin, please you've gotta try." But even as I said the words, I knew she was right for I could see the passage ahead would only get more difficult, already it had narrowed in diameter. With a sigh, we turned around and walked slowly back to the cot in the storeroom. She sat down hard and slumped forward holding her head in her hands. I dropped to a knee in front of her. "Gin," I encouraged, "Don't give up, Matt and Gabe are out there looking for you. I'll find them and bring them back."
Raising her head she looked at me with tear filled eyes, "Cassie girl, it'd be like finding a needle in a haystack."
I clutched her hand, "If I don't find them, I'll find someone to help us Gin, I promise you that."
She glanced down at our fingers joined together in her lap and then back at me." You just get yourself out of here, and once you do run as fast as you can and don't be looking back. That's the only promise I need."
"Oh Gin," with the pad of my thumb, I wiped away a tear trailing down her cheek, "We're in this together, believe that." I gave her hand another squeeze before standing and moving back to the cupboard to study its mechanics. I soon realized the reason it moved so smoothly was it was actually on a crude track and even loaded with jugs and bottles it would slide open and shut. I began reloading the shelves.
"Cassie, what are you doing?" Gin asked from the cot.
"We're going to beat Verdon Spencer playing his own game by his own rules. When I leave you make sure everything looks just as it did, and then stuff that spare blanket to look like I'm sleeping on the grain sacks. With a little luck they won't guess we've found their escape route."
She nodded. I could see a glimmer of hope reflected in her eyes. I grabbed a handful of match sticks and stuffed them in my pocket along with an extra candle. I threw her a kiss from the entrance of the cave. With more confidence than I felt, I told her, "I promise Gin, it will be alright." Her return was a faint smile.
It was not surprising to find a door handle on the backside of the cabinet and with very little effort I was able to slide it shut. As dark as the storeroom had been the cave seemed even darker. The damp air had a heavy musty quality to it. I walked with one hand holding the candle and the other trailing along the rock walls. Every once in a while I would come in contact with some slimy creature, which would slither away at the touch. As I crept along ominous shadows waltzed with me keeping time to the uneven rhythm of my moves. I felt as one buried alive, searching for a way out of my tomb. I began to doubt my courage. Funny thing about bravery I'd come to know, it was not a measure of how scared a person is, but the determination to ignore the fear and plunge on ahead. On second thought I reasoned, maybe it was just the lack of options and at this point I'd run clean out of them.
As narrow as the passage was, often times just a wide crevice between two rock walls, I wondered how someone as large as Spencer could fit through the slender corridors. I envisioned him holding in his fat belly as he squeezed between the rocks.
In places, water dripped down the sides of the walls forming a shallow stream beneath my feet, moisture seeped in the soles in my boots and sloshed as I walked. Eventually the passage became wider again and I noted several steel sided crates placed in the rock alcoves. I guessed these must contain a small arsenal of weapons and supplies used by the outlaws.
I ducked my head to accommodate the ceiling that slanted closer and closer to the ground until I was forced to my hands and knees. Even at so low an angle, bats swooped by, their screech piercing my ears, spiders and bugs wiggled down my shirt and small rodents darted past me. The damp cave floor was carpeted by jagged rocks that cut at my hands and knees. I forced myself to ignore the pain driven on by the scent of fresh air and hope.
Finally I crawled out of the opening to moonlight so bright it made my eyes blink. I leaned against the side of the mesa for a moment catching my breath, wondering what my next move should be. Realizing there could be guards standing watch I blew out the candle.
Rubicon lay to the north west of the Black Mesa range; logic dictated that was the direction the posse would be coming from. The lightening of the sky behind me confirmed I was on the correct side of the mountain. I'd never been a religious person but I saw nothing wrong with hedging my bet. I said a quick prayer as I moved through the night. I stumbled forward to find help, but I marked the trail, which led back to my friend Gin. Like links in a chain, our fates were joined.
The rough trail was downhill and characterized by the same sharp edged stone I'd encountered in the cave - shards of red rock shale and slabs of the black molten lava which had given the mountain range its name. The footing was treacherous and several times I slipped tearing my shirt and pants, adding cuts and bruises to my assortment of injuries. Morning was fast approaching and I knew if I didn't find help soon, I'd be forced to return to the cave or risk Spencer's men finding me missing. There was no second-guessing the fact they'd make Gin pay for my absence.
Focused on the trail ahead I missed the gnarly roots of a snarled old Juniper bush. The tangled wood tripped me as the toe of my boot caught; sending me flying head over heals. I slammed against the steep incline hard and tumbled down the hill arms flailing helplessly; finally coming to a stop against a large boulder. I lay in stunned silence, in pain and afraid to move. It was in the absolute quiet of the moment that I heard the rustle of hoof beat and the faint murmur of voices whispered in a forced hush. I held my breath and willed my heart to stop its pounding the better to hear the riders.
And then with a shift in the direction of the wind, I heard a voice so low the words were indiscernible but the identity of the speaker was not. Using the boulder for support I struggled to my feet. I was dizzy from the fall and for a moment a dark haze passed before my eyes. I hung on to the rock waiting for the sensation to pass. Through the sagebrush and bunch grass I was able to make out a group of riders passing by about fifty yards downhill. I stumbled forward hanging to Juniper limb and Joshua tree as I made my way down the hillside. "Help.' I called, but my voice sounded weak and strange even to my ears. I ran faster on legs, which seemed to move more from gravity than energy on my part. A lifetime later I reached the trail, but the riders had already passed and were far ahead of me. "Please, help." I called again, knowing they couldn't hear me and aware in the dim light they weren't likely to see me if they happened to turn around.
I started running blindly after them; for this was our last chance, Gin and mine. My heart was beating so ferociously in my chest I was sure it would burst while my mind was awash in dark colors swirling around like a tempest in my head. With the last ounce of strength I could summon I screamed a plea for life. "Matt." Then light gave in to dark and the tempest had its way.