Don Winslow - Way Down on the High Lonely

Cal hit the dirt and kept his head down as debris flew and the secondary explosions from ammunition belts, grenades, and mortar shells turned the compound into a junkyard. So the bombs were in the batteries of the detonator boxes. And now that lunatic preacher had the override switches and was clicking them oft one by one. Cal buried his head in his arm and waited it out.

Craig Vetter lay in the snow. He took aim at the truck’s rear tires, said a quick prayer that his weapon wasn’t one of the sabotaged ones, and shot.

Neal felt the truck sink on its flat tires. He grabbed Jory by the collar, opened the door, and rolled out. Bullets smacked into the truck above him.

Ed jumped out, crouched behind the front of the truck, and scrambled over to the passenger side. He pulled Graham out and slung him back over his shoulder.

“Neal! Get ready to move!” he yelled.

Carter watched the world turn into a whirling chaos. Flames were everywhere, sulphur burned his eyes and his nose, screams filled his ears as the truck full of devils drove away even though he was madly flipping the switches. Another watchtower buckled and crumpled to the ground. Yahweh’s haven was falling apart around him. He ripped the detonator box off the post and gripped it next to his chest. He shook it angrily.

Then he flipped the last switch.

A second later, all of the mines around the compound perimeter went off, sending up blasts of earth, snow, and smoke.

Craig dove for the ground and covered up.

Neal crawled over to Ed. “There’s a ranch two miles north of here. It’s the only house. I’ll meet you there.”

Ed nodded, hefted Graham, and started toward the main road at a trot. Neal crawled back to Jory.

“How can we get to this place?”

“I usually ride there.”

Neal thought about it for a second. The corral was a good hundred yards south. They could make it if they started now, while the explosions were still keeping heads down.

“Let s go!”

They sprang to their feet and sprinted toward the corral.

A few minutes later Cal Strekker got up and went to inspect what was left of the compound. There wasn’t much-three towers were down, the ammunition bunker was destroyed with its $200,000 of new weapons, the main bunker was intact but inundated with tear gas. His troops weren’t in such good shape either. Most of Carter’s brownshirt bodyguards were on their hands and knees, coughing, choking, or vomiting. He had two badly wounded-the machine gunner with his seared eyes and the man in the tower who was missing three ringers.

Worse yet, he knew he wasn’t going to get the time to rebuild the compound or the company. ZOG had infiltrated the organization and laid a heavy hit on it. Next would come the official police with warrants and all the legalities. And there were three men running around out there who could testify.

He yelled around the compound until he had his own men assembled. Carter could take care of those useless LA neo-Nazis by himself.

Hansen came up beside him.

“Have you seen my son?” he yelled. “Have you seen lory?”

Cal looked around the compound. He didn’t see the boy. He looked out across the sagebrush flats and saw a horse with two riders in the moonlight.

“I don’t know,” he said to Hansen. He pointed at the horse and riders galloping toward the mountains. “Is that him?”

Hansen peered into the night and recognized his son. But who the hell was with him?

Dave Bekke limped up to Hansen. “There’s something you ought to know, sir.”

“Right now I think there’s a whole lot I ought to know.”

“I heard Jory tell Neal that he didn’t kill that little boy,” Bekke said. “Now maybe he just said that because Neal had a knife to his throat, but…”

“But what?” Hansen yelled.

“Jory also said something about the boy being the Savior, the Son of God. Said that he took him and hid him in ‘the Place of the Beginning.’”

Carter pushed into the center of the circle and asked, “He used those words? The Place of the Beginning?”

“Yeah, he said he hid him in the Place of the Beginning and the End.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Hansen said. “How do you expect a two-year-old child to survive out in the wilderness on its own?”

“I don’t, sir. That’s just what Jory said.”

Cal said, “I’ll bet that’s where he’s headed and I’ll bet that’s Neal Carey with him.”

Vetter added, “Jory spends a lot of time around those caves up the mountain.”

“We have to find that child!” Carter commanded.

Hansen took over. “Cal, we’ll take some men with us and track Jory up to those caves. Dave, you take a squad and track down that Mackinnon, or whoever the hell he is. You might start by heading toward that Jew’s house. I wouldn’t be surprised if he set this whole thing up. Go on now, get moving!”

Carter pulled Hansen aside.

“This is very exciting, Robert,” he said.

Hansen shook his head. “It’s over here, Reverend. ZOG will be swarming all over this place by tomorrow. Our only chance is to find these people, kill them, and go into hiding ourselves.”

Hansen felt the full bitterness of his own words. His dreams for this valley, this haven, this white bastion were shattered.

“You don’t understand, Robert!” urged Carter. “This may be it! Maybe Jory was inspired to take the child! Maybe he has found the Place of the Beginning and the End, the sacred home of the lost tribe!”

“I don’t understand, Reverend.”

“I don’t think Jory took the boy, I think the boy took Jory. The boy led him to the sacred place. This may be the child. You remember Revelation 12:5: ‘And she brought forth a man child, who was to rule all nations with a rod of iron: and her child was caught up in God, and to his throne.’ But the dragon fought for the man child, Robert. And the man child was hidden while the battle raged. And the dragon was slain by the angels. ZOG is the dragon, we are the angels! The battle is on! It’s here, Robert! It’s here!”

Hansen looked around at the wreckage of his dream.

“What’s here?” he asked.

Carter’s eyes gleamed. “The End Time!”

Shoshoko crawled to the mouth of the cave when he heard the wind come up. Clouds rolled across the moon and suddenly it started to snow as the sky changed from shimmering black to dull gray to shining white.

Shoshoko knew that the snow had been sent to ease his spirit, to soften his walk to the other side. The child would go down from the mountain just as the snow came down from the sky.

He was sad to leave the earth, but all men did. He was sad to leave the boy, but that was their fate. He sat down at the edge of the cave and started to sing his death song.

It was the End Time.

Neal held on tightly as Midnight picked his way up the narrow path. Cedar boughs swung back and threw snow across his arms as the horse pushed through. More snow was falling on his head and back, blowing in his face.

He felt the horse stagger up to level ground and then heard what sounded like a chant coming from somewhere up above. It was a sad but oddly tranquil song in the voice of an old angel floating on a cloud.

I wonder if this is what it’s like to die, Neal thought. A slow ride in a tunnel of whiteness with an angel singing you home.

Midnight found his way between two rock walls and they descended down a draw. Then the horse turned sharply right and then left, and suddenly Neal could see.

They were in a box canyon of red rock cliffs with sparse cedars clinging to narrow shelves. The north cliff face blocked the wind and most of the snow. They were isolated from the rest of the mountains and the valley below. They might as well have been in another world.