Dennis Yates - Red Mountain

An owl hooted from a cluster of trees at the top of a ridge.

Robert found a broken wine bottle on the ground and picked out the sharpest piece he could find. As he continued forward, he wound his handkerchief around the duller end, creating a handle he could grip tightly. Once he finished tying the loose ends into a tight knot, he slid the knife into his coat pocket.

He picked up his pace, thinking he’d head for the road where the daytime runners parked their cars.

Out of nowhere a heavy weight smashed down on his shoulders and crushed him to the ground. Robert rolled several times across the wet pavement with his attacker clinging from behind. Strong fingers dug into his neck and choked him. His head was slammed into the ground, sending out a white flash behind his eyes. Then suddenly his attacker fell back, out of breath, and after Robert wiped the grime from his face he found himself eye to eye with his first opponent.

He was heavyset, out of shape. But he deserved an A for surprise.

While he lay on his side and sucked hungrily for air, Robert struggled up on his elbows, wondering how he’d been ambushed. He soon noticed a section of the iron fence was missing, the hole strewn with torn yellow tape. His attacker had been waiting on the other side.

The man rose to his feet and glowered over him, his thick bare arms covered in tattoos and bloody scrapes. “You’re going to pay for what you did to my Dawn and Jenny. I’m going to tear you apart piece by piece just like you done to them.”

Robert stared up. “I didn’t harm your family. I swear on the lives of my wife and child.”

The man spit a gob of blood. “The police told me everything. They told me how you killed them.”

“The police? What are you talking about?”

The man smiled crookedly and shook out his legs as if preparing to run a marathon. “I guess you didn’t know they were going to nail your ass, did you?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Thought so,” he said before kicking Robert in the side with a heavy work boot. Robert moaned and tried to drag himself away. When the boot came flying toward his forehead he reached out and caught it in both hands and pulled. The big man back-slammed the pavement and growled.

“Shit! My fucking back!”

As soon as he found a better grip on the man’s boot with both hands, Robert twisted it around like a shark pulling away meat. He heard bone give way and the man scream. When he let go the man’s foot dropped limply to the side.

Having thought of an idea, Robert stood up and took the man by the arms and dragged him into shadow so they wouldn’t be seen. He fumbled in his coat pocket for the piece of glass. He could have slashed the man’s throat. He stared into his fat sweaty face, searching for a reason to finish the job.

But there was something oddly familiar about him... Had they once drank beers together? It was such a small town when you really thought about it. Robert was usually good at remembering faces, but he couldn’t place were he’d seen this man’s before.

“What’s your name?”

“Fuck—you!”

Robert’s fist came down into the man’s face. He wished he hadn’t done that, but it was too late. Blood oozed from the man’s nostrils and into his mouth. He lay still with his eyes closed. Robert searched his pocket and found a wallet. He pulled out a driver’s license and turned it so he could read it in the faint light of his wristwatch.

“Kenneth Nolan…”

The man opened his eyes. Robert slid the license into his own pocket.

“You don’t have to believe me, but they took my family too. I don’t know why they’re doing this. But they said I have to kill you if I want them to live. Do you understand?”

Ken nodded, but Robert couldn’t tell if he believed him.

“If they’re telling the truth then your family is still alive. They just told you that I killed them so you’d be motivated. It’s a game their playing with us. Like dropping red and black ants into a jar and watching them battle to the death.”

“What are you talking about? They showed me pictures…”

“It’s all part of their game, Ken. Did you really believe they were the cops?”

“All I know is that my wife and child are gone.”

“Then let’s do something to get them back… Something that works for the both of us.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean how are we going to make them think I killed you?”

“Aw, fuck you...”

“Listen to me. There’s not much time. They’ll be coming back soon to check. Since you’re the one who’s busted up, I don’t think you really have much of a choice. But if I can get you over that ledge and into the water we both might stand a chance.”

Nolan’s eyes narrowed to slits. “You’re a crazy murdering son of a bitch. The cops will be here any minute, you’ll see. They said they’d give me some time to do what I wanted before they picked you up.”

“They weren’t cops, Ken. Don’t you get it? We’ve been set up. They want us to try and kill each other.”

Nolan grinned through bloody teeth. “I think you’re scared, man. Scared you’re going to be on the fast track to death row.”

Robert pressed his makeshift knife against the man’s throat.

“Go ahead. Do it,” Nolan whispered. “It’s what you’re good at, right?

Robert pressed deeper into the man’s flab, until blood began to well up around the edges of the crystalline point.

“You must listen to me, Ken. There’s an island in the middle of the reservoir. Right now it’s hidden by fog. Swim for it, and hang on. This area is full of security cameras. As soon as they see us in the reservoir they’ll be calling the cops. The men behind this won’t be sticking around. They’ll think you’re dead.”

He drew back the blade from Nolan’s neck. The tip had left behind a red dot of blood.

Nolan laughed incredulously. “I still don’t believe a fucking word you say. You’re a goddamn coward. You could’ve stuck me in the jugular with that thing and it would have been over.”

“You’re exactly right. I’m trying to give you a chance to live.”

Robert thought of something. A way to connect. He took out Connor’s drawing and handed it to Nolan.

“What’s this?”

“My son drew it for me.”

Nolan squinted at the picture. He lifted his head and stared into Robert’s eyes.

“Jesus, your kid really did draw this, didn’t he?”

“His name is Connor. He and my wife were taken from me last night by a group of violent men. I have no idea why they chose us. They’ve taken them somewhere, and won’t give them back until I’ve done what they ask. Those men you think are cops are going to kill us all if they don’t see a clear winner tonight.”

Nolan studied the picture some more and grunted. “Kid’s got talent.”

Robert stood up on shaky legs. He walked over to the fence and sat down on the concrete ledge. It seemed that Nolan was coming to his senses. He could understand why he wouldn’t want to believe him, especially if Marsh had been feeding him lies.

“Okay, okay. I’ll go along with your plan,” Nolan said. “But how am I going to do this if I can’t walk?”

“I’ve already thought of that… I’m going to drag you over here and dump you over the fence. They’ll think I first stabbed you, then decided to drown you just to make sure.”

“Then let’s get this fucking thing over with.”

Robert took Connor’s drawing and folded it neatly back into his pocket. He slid off his jacket, lifted Nolan up by the armpits. He was heavier than Robert expected and his bad shoulder began to throb.

“You’re going to need to help.”

“Go to hell. You broke my leg, remember?”