Dangerous Minds (Knight and Moon #2)(28)

Bob and Jim stepped into the office.

Tin Man gestured at Emerson and Riley with his hatchet. “Truss them up and let’s move them out.”





THIRTEEN




RILEY STRAINED TO ADJUST HER SITTING position so that the zip ties binding her wrists together would be just a little less uncomfortable. They had been sitting in a small cell in the back of the Yellowstone jail for almost four hours.

“Well this is a fine mess you’ve gotten us into,” Riley said to Emerson.

“It’s not over until it’s over,” Emerson said.

The door to the cell opened, and Vernon and Wayan Bagus were shoved in, hands tied behind their backs. The door closed and locked behind them.

Vernon grinned. “Well, I sure am happy to see you two. Although I can’t say I’m impressed with the facilities here. They got all the basics but none of the amenities you’d find in one of your higher class jails.”

Wayan Bagus reached into his robe and pulled out an assortment of bath soaps, shower gels, and little bottles of Listerine he’d borrowed from the Old Faithful Inn.

“I would be happy to share these with you,” Wayan Bagus said to Vernon. “Except for the Listerine, these complimentary products make your hands smell like flowers.”

Riley looked at Wayan Bagus. The zip ties that had been binding his wrists were lying on the floor.

“How did you get out of those?” she asked.

Wayan Bagus shrugged. “A wise man, recognizing that the world is an illusion, does not act as if it is real, and so he escapes suffering.”

The door to the cell opened again, and Bob walked in. “Everyone out. We’re going for a ride.”

Jim was in the hall with his service weapon drawn. Lights in the hall were dim. The building was silent. As far as Riley could see they were the only detainees.

Outside the jail, it was dark except for an idling Chevy Tahoe’s headlights. Emerson, Riley, Vernon, and Wayan Bagus were herded into the SUV. Bob and Tin Man were in the front, separated from the back by a police partition cage.

Emerson leaned forward. “Where are we going?”

“Not far,” Tin Man said. “We’re tending to your bucket list. You wanted to see some of the park’s restricted areas.”

Fifteen minutes later, Bob pulled off the main highway onto a smaller one-lane dirt access road. Tin Man got out and unlocked a gate, marked by a sign that read NO TRESPASSING.

Past the gate, the road was heavily rutted and the Tahoe crept along for a couple more miles before coming to a stop. Tin Man and Bob got out of the SUV and opened the rear door.

“Out,” Tin Man said, holding a flashlight so everyone could see the step down onto the dirt road.

“I see you traded in your semiautomatic for that big-bore bolt-action rifle,” Vernon said to Bob. “I do some hunting myself, and I know that there’s one heck of a gun.”

“What do you hunt?” Bob asked.

“Squirrel mostly,” Vernon said. “You might not think that’s got a high difficulty rating, but they’re devious devils.”

“I mostly hunt bear,” Bob said. He looked over at Tin Man. “He hunts people.”

Tin Man flicked the flashlight beam into the tall grass at the side of the road. Several sets of eyes reflected the light before the animals backed off and retreated into the darkness.

“Enough talk,” Tin Man said. “We let this drag on and it’s going to eat into my recreational time.”

Tin Man moved off the dirt road, onto a rough path that led through the brush. “Follow me and watch where you’re walking. I don’t want anyone to break a leg ahead of time. And don’t even think about wandering off the path, because Bob will shoot you if you so much as stray five inches.”

Riley, Emerson, and Vernon walked single file into the brush, stumbling over branches, struggling to keep themselves upright in spite of their bound hands. Wayan Bagus was having an easier time. No one had noticed he had escaped the zip ties. He kept his hands hidden in the folds of his orange robe.

Vernon was directly behind Tin Man. Wayan Bagus was behind Vernon. Riley was between Wayan Bagus and Emerson. The temperature was in the low forties, but Riley was sweating with the exertion of the forced walk at the high altitude and the fear of what lay ahead. She tripped and went down to one knee. The march stopped while she pulled herself up. She stood tall and they continued walking.

“Wait for it,” Emerson said softly behind her.

She knew he was encouraging her not to lose faith. He was reminding her to stay vigilant for an opportunity to turn things around.

The air was increasingly foul with the smell of sulfur and rot. The moon peeked from behind a cloud. Not enough moonlight to show whatever was beyond the path, but clearly something had died and was decomposing in the inky blackness of the night.

“You got some day-old roadkill out here,” Vernon said.

Tin Man shone his flashlight off to the side of the path, panning the beam across the field. Not far from where they were walking were piles of dead and rotting buffalo, mule deer, and elk. They littered the landscape of rolling scrub grass.

Tin Man inhaled deeply. “The smell of death. Nothing like it.”

Riley was taking shallow breaths. Her stomach rolled with nausea, and sweat dripped off the tip of her nose. “What is this place?” she asked.