Chapter 6
Bromley got Jarrod to the buggy in only a few more minutes, and they were out of town quickly.
"I'm glad we got that behind us," Jarrod said, "and no, I have no interest in attending any funeral or burial service for Joshua Cunningham."
Bromley slapped the reins again to keep the horse moving along. "I doubt Corell or Mason will be turning up either. In fact, I doubt there will even be much of a service."
"You're right," Jarrod said. "Nobody who cares about Cunningham will be admitting to it now, and it appears Corell and Mason are trying to beat the authorities to Mexico."
"How do you feel about that?"
Jarrod took a deep breath. "Resigned. I know they were there Friday night and tried to kill me. I'm also pretty sure it was one of them who killed Jim Scanlon and maybe threw the dynamite into my office and but I have no proof. Speaking of which, have you had a chance to look at my office and see how the repair is coming?"
"Only from the outside, to see the debris being taken away, but at least it looks like it's moving along."
"Hmm.." Jarrod said and was quiet for a very long time after that.
Bromley figured he was wondering if he'd ever need that office again. Bromley was wondering if Jarrod would now be resigning as acting district attorney. He wondered what Jarrod's future held – and for that matter what his own future held - but he was not about to ask, not yet.
"How far are we from the ranch?" Jarrod asked after a while.
"Oh, a mile or so," Bromley said. "We just passed that turn-off that goes down to the river."
"Nick and I used to take that turn-off when we were kids, to go fishing." Jarrod was quiet again, but he was smiling.
A nice memory, Bromley decided. "Is it a good fishing spot?"
"It was then," Jarrod said. "I haven't been down there in years."
It happened fast. Jarrod heard a shot. Bromley felt something hit the buggy somewhere. The horse bolted in shock and fear. Jarrod had to hold on for dear life, not knowing what was going on. Bromley fought to hold the reins but the horse ripped them away, and Jarrod felt only the buggy going out of control.
"Mark!" he yelled, but he couldn't let go to reach for him.
The buggy slammed against a rock on the side of the road. Jarrod actually felt the rock against his arm, but Bromley was pitched out the other side. Terrified, Jarrod could only hold on as the horse kept careening down the road. He couldn't even jump off because he had no idea what he would be jumping into. He just kept calling to the horse, "Whoa! Whoa!"
It didn't work, but something did. Jarrod heard more horses galloping beside them. He felt his horse start to slow, heard other voices telling it "whoa," and then it slowed to a trot again.
"Mark?" Jarrod called and reached but no one was beside him. "Who is it? Who's there?" he called ahead.
No one answered him. Someone had hold of the horse though and was leading it somewhere.
"Who are you?" Jarrod asked, more frantic. "Who's there?"
No one answered. No one ever answered, but within only a few minutes, whoever had the horse in hand stopped, and so did the buggy.
Jarrod thought about getting out, but he had no idea where they were. He had no idea what was around them, and before he could even let go of his grip on the buggy, someone grabbed him and pulled him out, throwing him onto the ground.
Jarrod grunted and tried to push himself up. "Who are you?!" he yelled.
But all he heard were horses and the buggy moving away, leaving him there. He pushed himself up, realizing he wasn't hurt, and tried to get some sense of where he was but the sound of the horses and buggy disappeared. He couldn't hear anything but the wind through trees. He felt around him. He was in a road but not the main road – the ruts didn't seem very deep. That side road to the river, maybe, but where was the river?
Jarrod got himself up to standing, but then he froze. He had no idea what was around him. He was afraid to even take one step at first, but then he put his hands out in front of him and began to move, one slow step at a time. He could feel no sun here so he didn't even have any idea which direction was which. He didn't even know how to stay on the road.
And he didn't know where Bromley was. He didn't know who it was who had left him here, but whoever it was hadn't robbed him or even tried to. Even though he was starting to feel a cold shutdown coming into him, he put two and two together and came up with an answer – Corell and Mason. They must have circled back from Modesto instead of continuing south. They came specifically to do what they'd done – keep him from testifying against them for Friday night. Shrewd, actually, to leave him out here and let the elements do their job for them. Let the blind man wander until he killed himself out here, and they wouldn't have to go to Mexico. There would be no one to connect them to anything illegal, except Collier Dam, and they could stay ahead of that by avoiding Stockton.
"Mark?!" Jarrod yelled one more time.
Nobody heard him except Corell and Mason, who had reached the main road and sent the horse and buggy on its way. They gave each other a smile, turned away from the direction they had left Bromley in, away from the direction of the Barkley ranch, and rode off, this time planning to turn west at a crossroad before town, figuring they could get to San Francisco and get lost for good.
Not too far away on the main road, Bromley had gotten his senses back after being thrown out of the buggy and stunned for a few minutes. He checked himself, got up, and knew he wasn't injured beyond a few bumps and bruises, but now –
The buggy was gone. Jarrod was gone. There was no one anywhere. "Jarrod?!" he yelled as loud as he could, but there was no answer.
He thought quick. He couldn't go looking around here alone, and he couldn't waste time. Wherever Jarrod was, he was helpless in his own darkness. He could get hurt easily.
Bromley ran, as fast as he ever had, toward the Barkley ranch.
Ciego saw him coming into the stable yard first, a man in a business suit running down the road. Ciego ran to him. "Senor?! What is wrong?!"
"I need help," Bromley said. "Jarrod and I were ambushed. He's out there somewhere on his own, somewhere about a mile up the road toward Stockton. I need help to find him."
Ciego said, "Go into the house. Mr. Nick and Mr. Heath just left – I will catch up with them."
Bromley shook his head. "I need a horse. I need to get back out there. I'll saddle one. You go get Nick and Heath and send them up the main road toward town, fast as you can."
"Si, senor," Ciego said.
Ciego didn't waste time. He got Bromley the biggest horse (since Bromley was a big man) and rode bareback after Nick and Heath. Bromley took the horse Ciego gave him and saddled it as fast as he could. He was just about to leave when he saw Audra ride in. She had the horse and buggy in tow, and she was nearly frantic when she jumped down.
"Where did you find them?" Bromley asked quickly.
"Off the lane that leads to the south pasture," Audra said. "What's happened? Where's Jarrod?"
"I don't know. We were ambushed. I was thrown out of the buggy. I'm going to go look for him. Ciego is getting Nick and Heath to join me."
Bromley jumped up into the saddle and gave one last look to Audra, trying to be reassuring because she looked terrified.
"I'll find him," Bromley said and took off.
Ciego had been right. Nick and Heath hadn't gone far, and they joined Bromley where the road into the ranch met the main road. "Ciego's gone for the sheriff," Nick said.
"We have to hurry," Bromley said. "I don't have any idea where Jarrod is or where Corell and Mason are."
"Corell and Mason?" Heath asked. "Did they bushwhack you?"
"I don't know for sure, I didn't see, but I don't know who else would do it. I heard a shot, the horse bolted and I got thrown out of the buggy," Bromley said. "I'll take you to where it happened, but I don't know where they took Jarrod. I just know they got him."
The three rode off fast, taking only a couple minutes to get where Bromley had picked himself up out of the road. But they found it just the way Bromley had left it. There was nothing there, no one there. The horse and buggy were back at the ranch but Jarrod was not with them.
"Jarrod?!" Bromley yelled again.
Heath tried to be calming. "How long ago did this happen?"
"Not that long, maybe 20 minutes, half an hour," Bromley said. "They couldn't have gone far."
"They didn't come our way," Nick said. "They had to have gone back toward town."
"But they wouldn't go there," Bromley said. "They know they're wanted there, after Friday night. There's that sideroad that goes to the river."
"But it only goes to the river," Nick said. "If they're trying to get away, they wouldn't have taken it."
"There's that road that heads west, before we get to town," Heath said.
"Let's try it," Nick said, and they took off.
By the time they got to that road, the sheriff was there with Ciego. "I've got a couple men saddling up and coming up behind me," Sheriff Madden said. "What happened?"
Bromley explained again. The sheriff had Ciego wait to direct the men who would be coming along, and he, Bromley and the Barkley brothers took off on the road to San Francisco, hoping like crazy they were right about everything they were guessing.
But they were wrong about one important thing. While they took off to the west, Jarrod was trying to feel his way to – where? He didn't know where he was and he didn't know where he was going. He didn't know which way the main road was. He didn't even know where the river was, except that it was probably down here somewhere.
And he was frightened, and getting more frightened. He was slowing down and becoming more afraid to move. He was beginning to feel like he had felt when he was first blinded – paralyzed, lost, broken. "Help!" he yelled, as loud as he could.
But no one answered.