William Bernhardt - Dark Justice

The garden hose reached the end of its tether and jerked out of Ben’s hands. He didn’t stop-he couldn’t-but he felt the immediate impact. It was as if the oven had been turned on High and suddenly there were flames shooting up from beneath him, broiling him, burning him alive-

And then they were out. They had cleared the flames. They tumbled into a heap, collapsing onto the dirt, just outside the wall of fire.

Ben ripped the shirt off his head. Even though the heat was still intense, they were out of the fire. They had made it through. It had seemed impossible, but together, they had done it.

“ My arm !” Slade shouted.

Ben whipped his head around. Slade was on fire. The shirt over his head had slipped, and the man’s sleeve had caught fire.

Ben jumped up and threw the shirt that had covered his own head around Slade’s arm. He wrapped it tightly around till the flames were snuffed.

“My God, that hurts!” Slade said. He was gritting his teeth, fighting back tears. “But we made it. By God, Kincaid-we made it!”

Ben crouched beside Maureen. Her eyes were closed and her face was bright red. “Are you-are you all right?” he asked.

Maureen didn’t answer, but she took Ben’s arm and pulled him close to her. Their lips met, and they fell into a deep and urgent kiss. It seemed to Ben as if he had been waiting a lifetime for this, waiting forever.

He rolled over on his back and lay for a moment, gasping for air. They should move away from the flames, away from the crippling heat, but that could surely wait at least another second or two. He didn’t realize until then how stressed, how dog-tired he was. Tired of thinking, tired of moving-tired of everything. All he wanted to do was rest. And wait.

Which is exactly what he did. Till he heard the familiar chopping sound of helicopter blades cutting through the superheated air outside. The wings of angels, Ben thought, as his smoke-baked eyelids closed. The wings of angels.

When Ben felt strong enough to walk, he hobbled down the infirmary corridor to the next room. He found Maureen lying on a bed in a hospital gown with an IV hooked up to her arm.

Ben entered the room. “How are you doing?”

Maureen saw him and beamed. “I’ve been better. But I’m alive.”

Ben returned her smile. He was glad to see her so recovered. By the time the helicopters had landed, she was in such bad shape that he’d had to carry her on board while one of the deputies helped Slade, who had totally broken down. He was like a baby, babbling and crying. Maureen had kept her wits about her to the end, thank God, but she was gasping as if each breath was her last. She was asthmatic to begin with; protracted smoke inhalation could easily have killed her.

“How do you feel?” Ben asked.

“Well, my skin is pretty crispy, and my lungs feel like I’ve been swimming in dirt. But under the circumstances, I can’t complain.” She reached out for Ben’s hand. “You look cute.”

“I do?”

“Yeah. You should go outside more often. You look good with a little red in your face. Well, in this case, a lot of red in your face.”

“Oh yeah?” Ben hadn’t even thought to look in the mirror.

“Oh yeah. Your nose is bright red, like Rudolph. And Sasquatch, of course.” She squeezed Ben’s hand all the tighter. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“Thank you . If you hadn’t known how to work the radio, we’d still be up there.”

“Nonsense. If you hadn’t kept your wits about you and made us think clearly, we’d have all died.” She looked down for a moment. “Ben … I need to tell you something. I … have someone. Back home. In North Dakota.”

Ben didn’t say anything.

“More than just a someone, actually. We’re married.”

Ben nodded.

“You knew?”

“No. But I suspected there was … something.”

“We haven’t lived together for years. We were having some trouble, but … I don’t know. After something like this happens to you, you get new priorities. Just a little while ago, I called him. I know this sounds ridiculous, but-I think we’re going to give it another chance.” She looked up at Ben, her eyes wide. “I’m-sorry.”

“Don’t be. I’m glad for you.”

“I feel awful. You’re not at all what I thought you were going to be, back-”

“When we first met?”

“Or even before.” The smile faded from her face. “I have a confession to make. It’s-horrible. I just hope you won’t hate me.” She swallowed. “God, I can’t even make myself say it.”

“Then let me say it for you. You set me up. Manipulated me so I’d take Zak’s case.”

Maureen looked stunned. “Ben!”

“Zak found out I was in town, read it in the paper or something. He knew I was a sucker for lost causes, but might not want to get involved with eco-terrorists. So you set up a little charade. When you found out I was in jail, you staged that stupid protest, knowing Sheriff Allen would let you spend the night behind bars. That gave you a chance to talk to me. You laid it on thick while we were locked up together, playing on my conscience. And then, to top it off, you hired some guys to stage that attack just after we were released, figuring I would fly to your rescue. Which I did. And that after we had fought side by side against a common enemy, we would bond and I would agree to take Zak’s case. Which I did. I suspect you even played up to me a bit, acting like you liked me. Personally, that is. Just to keep me interested.”

Maureen stared at him with amazement. “How did you find out?”

“My investigator, Loving, talked to Kelly, your former Green Rage colleague. She spilled the beans.”

Maureen frowned. “Kelly resigned over it. She said we were being morally indefensible. I guess she was right.” She glanced down at the floor. “You must hate me.”

“Not in the least. You were fighting for a friend’s life. I might quarrel with the way you did it, but … I can’t argue with your goal.”

“You’re very generous.” She gazed up at him. “You had it all right except on one point. I was playing up to you, but I didn’t have to pretend.” She pulled his arm, forcing him to bend closer. When he was near enough, she kissed him on the cheek. “You’re a good human being, Ben.”

He smiled back at her. “Well, I try.”

When Ben returned to his office, he found Christina and Sheriff Allen standing close together, talking. He cleared his throat, then stepped into the office. “Any word yet?”

Christina shook her head. “Jury’s still out.”

“Blast.”

“I thought you’d be pleased,” Allen said. “Frankly, I didn’t think it would take them half this long. Sounds like you must’ve given someone something to think about.”

“Maybe,” Ben answered. “Or maybe they’ve already voted to convict and are just debating whether to give Zak the death penalty. I know they’re supposed to come out as soon as they reach a verdict, but juries are unpredictable. Sometimes they like to get it all over with at once.”

“You gave it everything you possibly could,” Christina said. “You have nothing to feel bad about. And speaking of feelings, how are you?”

Ben shrugged. “I’m fine. Throat’s a little raspy and my face is tender. But nothing to complain about.”

“That’s good. When I heard what happened, I was-”

She was interrupted by a knock on the door. A moment later, a close-cropped, official-looking head poked through the door. “My name is Carlton Hodges. I’m looking for Christina McCall.”