Michael McGarrity - Everyone Dies

He waited a few more minutes before he moved quickly off the ridgeline, loosening small rocks that cascaded down the slope in front of him. At the base of the incline he zigzagged in a lope across the rangeland, using small stands of pinon trees for cover, keeping his eyes fixed on the truck and house just in case someone came into view.

Green stopped at the last grove of trees about two hundred yards from the truck and used the binoculars again to search for activity before moving into the open pasture. The dry grass cracked under his feet. It would burn nicely.

Halfway across the field he heard the sound of a train clattering over the tracks, followed by the blast of its horn. Over his right shoulder the headlights of a car appeared at the top of the hill behind the horse barn. Green wheeled and ran back for the cover of the trees, cursing his bad luck and hoping he hadn’t been spotted.

“Oh, the sound of a train,” Gloria Baca said from the backseat as they passed Soldier’s grave again. “How lovely.”

At the top of the hill, Kerney saw the figure of a man freeze in the pasture, turn, and start running for the trees. He pressed the accelerator.

“He’ll make the trees before we can reach him,” Sara said, reaching for her camera. “Stop the car.”

“We’ve got to get you to the hospital.”

“Stop the damn car, Kerney,” Sara said as she set the camera on automatic zoom.

Kerney hit the brakes. From the backseat he heard Andy calling out his troops on the cell phone. Sara leaned out the passenger window and took pictures just before the man reached the cover of some trees.

“Okay, let’s go,” she said pulling her head back into the car.

“Drop me off at my truck,” Andy said, as Kerney drove down the hill.

“Don’t chase him,” Kerney said.

“I’ve got units rolling code three,” Andy said. “I’ll head for the highway and coordinate from there.”

“Have someone meet the train in Santa Fe,” Kerney said.

“Why the train?” Andy asked as he jumped out of the SUV.

Kerney watched in frustration as the distant figure of the running man disappeared over the ridgeline. “There’s no reason for the engineer to sound his horn.

The nearest railroad crossing is several miles from here. Something caught his attention, and the runner is heading for the tracks.”

“Consider it done,” Andy said, as he held out his hand. “Give me the camera, so I can get the film developed.”

Sara passed it through the open window. “Don’t you dare lose my pictures of the house.”

“Wouldn’t think of it,” Andy said as he gave her Kerney’s cell phone and reached for his own. “Gloria will stay with you.”

“Good,” Sara replied, reaching back for Gloria’s hand to give it a squeeze. “At least I’ll have someone with me who knows what I’m going through.”

A contraction made her catch her breath and let go of Gloria’s hand. “Start driving, Kerney,” she said. “And this time, please go a little faster.”

“Catch this guy, Andy,” Kerney said as he hit the gas, leaving Baca standing by his pickup, choking on the dust thrown up by the rear tires.

Three squad cars with flashing emergency lights sped by as Samuel Green impatiently waited at a traffic light near the Interstate that would take him back to Santa Fe. It wasn’t the cops that worried him; he’d ripped a gash in the palm of his hand climbing through the barbed wire fence to get to his car. A deep cut that bled freely, it had soaked through the rag he’d wrapped around it.

The light turned green and he drove to town with his hand throbbing in pain. At the hospital parking lot, he inspected the wound. It ran from just above the wrist to his forefinger, and he’d lost a patch of skin. He needed stitches and a tetanus shot for sure.

He clenched the rag in his hand to slow the bleeding and thought things through. The car at the ranch had been too far away for anyone in it to get a clear look at him. Besides that, the light had faded and he’d been running with his back to the vehicle, so nobody saw his face. Finally, the cops would be looking for Olsen anyway, not him.

But his plan to burn Kerney’s ranch and bring him out in the open was now off the table. He couldn’t risk going back. He’d have to find another way to learn where Kerney was hiding out.

He decided to calm down, stop thinking about Kerney, and get his hand fixed. He would use a fictitious name and pay cash for the hospital bill, so he couldn’t be traced.

Inside the urgent care center, a nurse looked at his hand and took him directly to an exam room. She cleaned and inspected the wound as he fed her a line of bull about cutting himself as he was taking down an old fence on his mother’s property.

She shook her head sympathetically, placed his hand in a bowl of peroxide solution, let it sit there for a few minutes, and then elevated it on a tray table. “When was your last tetanus shot?” she asked.

“Years ago when I was a kid,” Green replied.

“Leave your hand where it is,” the nurse said. “I’ll be back in a few minutes to give you a shot and stitch you up.”

Sara was taken directly from the admitting area to labor and delivery, where the doctor was waiting. Dr. Carol Jojoya finished her exam of Sara, stripped off her gloves, and stepped back from the bed. Jojoya had a slightly dimpled chin, thick, curly dark hair, impish brown eyes, and an easy, calming manner.

“I think we’ll keep you overnight,” Jojoya said to Sara.

“What’s wrong?” Kerney asked, jitters getting the best of him.

“Nothing,” Jojoya said with a reassuring smile. Her eyes held a hint of amusement. “The baby isn’t quite ready to make his appearance, but there’s no sense in having Sara go home just to turn around again and come back.”

“You’re telling us everything?” Kerney asked, as he stepped over to Sara, who shook her head to signal that he was acting silly.

“My only concerns,” Jojoya said, “are that Sara has a narrow pelvis, and is about to deliver her first child. Sometimes those factors can make childbirth a bit difficult on the mother.”

“How difficult?” Kerney demanded.

Jojoya laughed. “Not to worry. Your wife is very physically fit. It’s just that first births can take a little more time. At the worst, your wife will probably be exhausted and sore when it’s all over.”

“That’s it?” Kerney asked.

“That sounds like enough to me,” Sara said.

“Relax, Chief Kerney,” Jojoya said. “Everything is normal. We’ll leave Sara here and wait for nature to take its course.”

“I want her in a private room,” Kerney said.

Jojoya shook her head. “She doesn’t get a room until she’s done her job.”

“Then I’ll stay with her,” Kerney said.

“Go away, Kerney,” Sara said with a wave of a hand. “Just post a security guard nearby and get back here in time to meet me in the delivery room.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Kerney said, “and it will be a police officer who’s stationed outside, not a security guard.”

“What on earth for?” Jojoya asked, her voice ringing with surprise.

“Don’t ask him to explain,” Sara said. “Just accept it as a good thing to do.”

Jojoya looked at the couple, decided not to probe, and patted the edge of the bed. “I’ll be around,” she said. “Just press the buzzer when the contractions start up again.”

Jojoya left and Kerney leaned over and kissed Sara’s cheek. “You’re all right?”

“Peachy,” Sara replied, looking decidedly uncomfortable.

“I’ll arrange a few things and be back in a flash.”

Sara gave him a weak smile and waved him away with her hand.