Henry Olsen - The Northland Chronicles - A Stranger North

John hit the ground, rolling forward to reduce the shock of impact. He stood up and turned around.

“You’re John Osborne?” the man asked, pointing his shotgun straight at John.

John scowled, growling through his beard in reply. Then he raised his left arm overhead, and with a guttural roar he heaved the wooden shingle like a throwing axe. The dark-skinned man’s eyes opened wide in fear as the shingle spun forward through the air. Then it tore into the man’s throat, and his body went limp, crumpling to the grass.

All was quiet. John looked more closely at his right arm. Two shotgun pellets had burrowed deep inside his forearm — there was nothing he could do about that right now. Cautiously, he walked back around to the front of the outpost.

The bear was there. Or its remains were, anyway. It was a bloody, mangy, mass of black fur, lying prone. John walked up to it and saw the fat man with the broken leg, pinned underneath the massive corpse. His eyes were closed; blood and bruises marked his face, but he was still breathing.

John stood over the man, looking down at his face. “Mama bear caught you with your hand in the honey jar, didn’t she?” he said.

The man weakly opened his eyes and stared up at John.

“Who … what the hell are you?” he said, his voice a rasping whisper.

John walked away without replying and retrieved his Colt from where it had hit the ground. Nathan and Emiko had disappeared — they must’ve run inside. Spinning the cylinder of his revolver to a live round, he approached the open door of the outpost.

Stepping lightly, Nathan crept through the outpost’s narrow hallway. Doors on either side opened to a handful of small rooms — Emiko had to be in one of them. Why was his sister so childish? What was she thinking, running back into the outpost to fetch her Ruger? Nathan didn’t care that it was their father’s — he just wanted to get everyone in the canoe and make a break for safety.

He put his hand on a door to the right. Its hinges creaked as he swung it open. With the stock of his Remington tight against his shoulder, he sidestepped in front of the open door, only to find that the room was completely empty. I almost feel like a real soldier , he thought.

Was there always an outpost here? he wondered. He didn’t come to Sawbill Lake often, so he couldn’t say for sure. Whoever built the structure had designed it with ample room for storing weapons and people.

The cluck of a chicken broke the eerie silence. One of Pierre’s? Nathan couldn’t tell exactly where the sound had come from, but he didn’t have time to look for it now.

He stepped back into the main hallway — one door remained, on his left. It was already open. Silently, he rested his back against the wall next to it and readied his shotgun. Then he spun into the doorframe.

In the middle of the small room was his sister. A man stood behind her, with his hand over her mouth and a pistol to her head. She let out a muffled cry.

“Ramses!” Nathan shouted. “Let her go!” His fingers tightened around his gun, though he didn’t have a good shot. The room was sparsely furnished. A desk sat against one wall, bare except for a glass window. The only other notable feature was the rear door, likely leading outside — Ramses’ escape plan.

“Nathan? What a pleasant surprise,” Ramses said. “I didn’t know you had it in you.”

Nathan narrowed his eyes. “You left Frontier View to become a kidnapper?” he asked.

“No — I left that little Podunk town so I could change the world,” Ramses said. “The people need a leader, Nathan. We can’t live like savages forever.”

Who gave him that idea? The Ramses Nathan remembered was a village bully, not a world-changing visionary.

“I don’t have your money,” he said. He could feel the sweat gathering in his palms — he’d never experienced tension like this before. Emiko’s eyes were pleading with him to act, but he didn’t see anything he could do. His shotgun wasn’t a precision tool. Even if he aimed directly between Ramses’ eyes, the spread would hit Emiko as well.

Ramses snorted. “This was never about the money,” he said. “I just need you to do a favor for me.”

“How about I give you a mouthful of lead?” Nathan said, surprised at his own aggressiveness.

“Sounds like you’ve learned a thing or two from our friend John,” Ramses said. “Speaking of whom, I have a message for him.”

“You kidnapped Emiko to get to him?” Nathan said with rising anger. “That was your motive?”

Ramses didn’t respond. He stepped back toward the door, dragging Emiko with him.

“I was hoping I could deliver the message to him in person, but you — ” He stopped short, shifting his gaze beyond Nathan. “Ah, and there he is! John Osborne himself,” he said. “Did my compatriots outside treat you well?”

“About as well as a guy like me could expect, showing up unannounced. They welcomed me with hot lead, so I returned the favor,” John’s voice said — Nathan didn’t dare turn to look back at him.

Ramses’ eyes grew wide. He didn’t reply, except to take another step back toward the door. His hand was still clasped tightly around Emiko’s mouth.

“Let her go,” John said. Nathan heard the click of John cocking his revolver.

“I have something to tell you first,” Ramses said. His voice had lost its tinge of arrogance.

“I couldn’t give a rat’s — ”

“About your arm,” Ramses said, cutting John short.

The room fell silent.

“Listen carefully, because I won’t repeat myself. The man who designed your arm — you can find him on Mallard Island, located to the north, on Rainy Lake,” Ramses said.

“Who are you?” John barked, losing his cool for the first time since Nathan had met him.

“A friend of law and order,” Ramses said, with no hint of irony. “The question, John, is: Who are you ?” With that, he gave Emiko a hard shove forward and ducked behind her. He forced the back door open with his shoulder and dashed out into the wilderness.

Nathan lowered his gun and let out a sigh of relief.

John rushed past Nathan, heading for the door. His eyes flared with passion — he looked dead set on chasing Ramses. However, he stopped and looked down at Emiko. She’d fallen on her knees, exhausted. John gave the back door another passing glance, then knelt beside her.

“You okay, kid?” he asked.

Emiko didn’t reply. Her long black hair hung down over her eyes, hiding her face as she let out a sob.

Nathan rushed to her, setting his gun down on the desk. He fell to his knees and threw his arms around Emiko.

“Loons over the moon, Emiko! What were you thinking, running back in here?” he asked.

“I … I don’t know,” Emiko said between choking sobs. “I couldn’t let them have my gun … dad’s gun.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Nathan said, giving her a reassuring squeeze. “We can go back home now.”

She sniffled in reply. Nathan pulled away from her and examined her face. “Did they do anything to you?” he asked.

Her long hair waved back and forth as she shook her head, before meeting eyes with Nathan.

“What is Beard doing here?” she asked.

“Beard?” John sneered in disgust.

“He’s a friend,” Nathan said, turning to look at the bearded man with a proud smile. “I couldn’t have rescued you without him.”

Rising to his feet, John pursed his lips and shook his head.

“What’s wrong?” Nathan asked.

“Something ain’t right,” John muttered. “That kid knew too much about me.”

“Ramses?” Nathan said. “He used to live in Frontier View. What’s he care about your — ” He stopped mid-sentence, as his eyes caught a glimpse of the red droplets streaking down John’s arm. “What happened to your arm?” he asked.