I Never Thought I'd See You Again: A Novelists Inc. Anthology (23 page)

She dropped to the ground, but the scowl never left her face. “You are both insane, and why the fuck can’t I get a satellite signal in this godforsaken place? Johnson won’t know where to find us if I — ”

“Don’t need him.”

“I don’t see them,” Paul said.

“They ain’t on the boat, Paul.”

“Not on the — ”

“To the left and down the water’s edge toward the trees.”

“I have to go — ”

“No you ain’t.”

“Sam, he has Winnie tied to a post.”

“She’s bait, Paul.” Sam’s voice was low but fierce. “If we go rushin’ down there like the cavalry, he’ll kill us and her, too.”

“He’s right, Paul,” Murphy said, no trace of mockery in her tone.

“No kiddin’, Murphy?” Sam shot her a glance and pointed a little behind Winnie. “Paul, has the lake changed much since . . . you know?”

“Yes, a lot. We haven’t had much rain the last decade or so, and the water level is a lot lower. Even had to build a new dock. Global warming.”

“Globawhat?”

“Where have you been, Sam?” Murphy asked. “Global warming. Climate change. Greenhouse gasses.”

“She didn’t read the letter,” Sam said.

“No, but I told her who you are,” Paul said, adjusting the field glasses. “Is that a — it’s a cave. My God, Sam — a
cave
. That small bluff must have been under water when we went back.”

“That’s my thinkin’.”

“And the Butcher found it.”

“Yep.”

“Speak English?” Murphy asked. “No
comprendo Insanish
.”

“She’s a laugh-a-minute,” Paul said. “You going to explain it to her, or am I? And how are we going to stop him before he . . . ”

Sam gave Paul’s shoulder a squeeze. “I’ll stop him, son. That’s why I’m here. Remember? He can’t hurt me. I’m already dead.”

“Oh. My. God.” Murphy punched buttons harder. “This must be genetic.”

“Shut up,” Paul and Sam said in unison. Lucifer nickered softly.

“I reckon that makes it unanimous,” Sam said. “Here, I’m in charge, Agent Murphy. You follow
my
orders.” He tapped the badge on his chest and grinned. “I’ve worn this badge since 1888, and my last assignment was Indian Territory. Right where we’re standin’.”

She stared in stunned silence, her eyes round with disbelief.

“That bastard down there started murderin’ wives, mothers, and daughters back in 1890, near as we can tell.” He drew a deep breath. “One of those was my missus. I tracked him like the animal he is, but I lost him here.
Right here
, because he slipped into some kind of hole in time.”

“Oh, now that’s just — ”

“True,” Paul said. “True. All of it. Winnie and I went through that time portal accidentally one night on my houseboat. That’s where we met Sam.”

She sat there, just staring. “I don’t want to hear any more of this.” She drew a deep breath and shifted to where Paul still stooped with the field glasses. “We’ll sort out the details later. Let’s just save your wife and catch this fucking killer.”

“Atta girl,” Sam said.

Murphy glowered at him.

“I didn’t say ‘ma’am.’”

She grabbed the field glasses and allowed Paul to guide her toward where Winnie was tied. “Have you seen any sign of — ” She gasped. “There he is.”

Sam grabbed the glasses and aimed them toward Winnie. The Butcher stood behind her, waving in their direction. “He knows where we are.”

“I’m going down there, Sam.” Paul rose and checked his rifle. “I’m heading down this grove of trees, then behind the boat if need be. I can swim.”

“If I could get a signal,” Murphy repeated fiercely, “I could get an amphibious team down there.”ave money for college. ”d

“All right, Paul.” Sam gripped his great-great-grandson’s arm. “Be careful. I’ll meet you down there, and we’ll rescue Winnie and send the Butcher straight to Hell.”

Sam watched Paul disappear into the dark trees, quietly like Sam had taught him back in 1896. He was going to miss Paul and Winnie. With any luck, though, he’d soon be with his own wife and son again.

Sam checked his pistols and tightened the cinch on Lucifer’s saddle. He whispered, “This is probably it, old boy.” He rested his forehead against the horse’s warm neck. “We gotta save Winnie. You and me.”

Sam swung himself into the saddle. He turned to tell Murphy to stay put, but there was no sign of the spitfire. “Ah, hell.” No telling what kind of trouble she might cause.

What the hell did Murphy ever do to deserve this? She had worked her way up the ranks in the Bureau, and minded her Ps and Qs. Despite her shitty childhood, she had never been in trouble with the law, and was relatively clean-cut when push came to shove. Okay, so she had a potty mouth and could drink like a sailor, but that sort of went with the job.

And now this. Two crazy, drop-dead handsome men who thought they were great-great-grandfather and great-great-grandson in the same place at the same time. To make matters worse, they believed in time travel. Oh, and the “old timer” thought he was a US Marshal on a mission to find his wife’s killer.

“My kingdom for a fucking signal,” she muttered as she stumbled around in the sweaty Oklahoma woods holding the worthless phone toward the sky.

“That you, Murph?” A staticky voice said over the line.

“Johnson? Come in, Johnson,” she said quietly.

“I’m trying to track your location now. Ah, got you.”

“Send back-up,” she said. “Lots of back-up. DA has a private dock down here. Can you get a stealth amphibious team? Butcher has Mrs. DA hostage.”

“Shit.”

“You don’t know the half of it.”

Paul slipped into the water at the end of the trees. There was no way he could swim and keep his rifle dry, so he stashed it. Now his only weapons were his bare hands and a hunting knife strapped to his belt.

Careful not to splash, he eased his way along the dock beneath the prow of the
Sooner Sunset.
He couldn’t quite see Winnie yet, but he knew approximately how far he was from the cave. Unfortunately, he had no idea where the Butcher was. All he could do was stay low, stay quiet, and pray.

Dear God, please save Winnie.

He was finally close enough to see her red hair when he caught sight of the killer. He lingered near the cave entrance — prepared to flee, no doubt. Once Winnie was safe, Paul was going to seal that damned cave.

The Butcher looked like a crazed killer from any time. Unkempt, nervous but alert. He sat on a stump, whittling. After a moment, he shoved the stick onto the heart-shaped arrowhead that wa“Who’s that?”edvos his trademark.

Paul couldn’t breathe. The Butcher aimed to bury that stone in his wife’s heart.
The hell he will.

The Butcher tensed and rose, looking toward the boat, almost directly at Paul. Then he turned to the north. The thunder of hooves came from over the rise. Sam and Lucifer were on the move, and so was Paul.

While the Butcher busied himself readying his rifle for Sam, Paul moved closer to his wife. Positioned directly behind her now, he could almost touch her. “Winnie, shhh. It’s Paul. Don’t move.”

She wiggled the fingers of her bound hands behind her. Good, she’d heard. The Butcher moved in front of her and Paul ducked lower.

The bastard showed her the heart-shaped arrowhead. “This is for you,” he said in a menacing whisper. “All women have hearts of stone. Two Weathers women. Maybe two Weathers men before the day is through.”

Lucifer and Sam appeared at the top of the rise. “Ready to meet your Maker?” Sam called.

“Are you?” The Butcher turned to face US Marshal Sam Weathers.

“Already did.” Sam and Lucifer waited. “Come out here and fight like a man, you filthy sidewinder.”

The Butcher started forward, and Sam took a shot. It struck the killer in the left shoulder. The wound infuriated the Butcher enough to make him howl, but he continued toward his target at the same deliberate pace.

Paul came up out of the water and sawed the ropes loose. “Hide on the boat.”

Winnie flung her freed arms around her husband. “Love you.
Be careful.
” She ran to the boat.

Paul might not have his rifle, but he was going to make damned sure the Butcher never took another life. And that bastard was never setting foot inside that cave again.

Why weren’t they shooting? Paul watched the two men. The Butcher walked slowly toward Sam, leaving behind him a trail of blood. The marshal waited, even though his stalker had a loaded rifle aimed in his general direction.

“Dammit, shoot him, Sam,” Paul whispered. Movement to his left grabbed his attention. Agent Murphy, weapon drawn, moved in on the men. Of course, she didn’t know that Sam was, well . . . already dead. She wasn’t. She just thought he was nuts and she was doing her job.

More movement — this time in the water behind him.
What did she do, call out the Coast Guard?
He faced the divers surfacing around the houseboat. In a fierce whisper, he said, “My wife — the hostage — is safe now and onboard. Stay out of the way.”

“Where’s Agent Murphy?” the closest diver asked quietly.

Paul pointed. He nodded. “And there’s your killer.” He pointed at the bleeding man with the rifle.

“Who’s the cowboy on the horse?”

“That is no cowboy, kid,” Paul said reverently. “He’s a US Marshal.”

“Is this a movie set or something?” a younger diver asked. the twenty-first century, Gr

“Shut up,” another one said, “so we can hear what’s happening.”

The Butcher stopped about ten yards away from Sam. “Get down off that horse, Marshal. You won’t have so far to fall.”

“Nope.”

Sam leveled his six-shooter right at the Butcher’s head. “You know you’re done for.”

“I still got the woman.”

“Nope.”

“You’re just trying to make me turn around and look,” the Butcher said.

“Hey, Paul,” Sam called. “Tell the Butcher here how you cut your missus free.”

“That’s right. I cannot tell a lie, you swine. I cut my wife free while you were busy bleeding all over the place.” Paul was completely unafraid now that Winnie was safe. “So you’re dead meat, pal.”

From the houseboat deck, his wife said, “Yoo-hoo, Mr. Butcher. I’m safe and sound. Eat dirt!”

Paul watched the Butcher’s shoulders slump, but he kept the rifle aimed at Sam. “I may go, but I’m takin’ you with me, Weathers.”

“That’s the way I got it figured,” Sam said matter-of-factly. “What are you waitin’ for now?”

Agent Murphy was about twenty feet away now. “I have a Glock on your flank, asshole, so drop your weapon.
Now!”

“Now you’ve gone and done it,” Sam said.

The Butcher swung his gun toward Murphy. She fired just as Sam unloaded both pistols into his wife’s murderer. He dismounted and hurried over to Agent Murphy.

“You’re hit, ma’am.”

“Don’t . . . ”

“Murphy.”

“Flesh wound.” She struggled to sit up. “Thanks, Sam. You’re still suspended, pending psychiatric eval — ”

“I quit,” he interrupted. “See, I gotta be someplace else.” He tried to help her to her feet.

Paul and Winnie headed toward Sam. “He’ll be going back now,” she said breathlessly. “Won’t he?”

“Yes.” Paul squeezed her hand. “His job here is finished.”

“I’ll miss him.” Winnie sighed. “But he needs to be with Martha and his son.

“Let’s go see how much time we — ”

Winnie gasped and grabbed Paul’s arm. “The Butcher . . . ”

“Look out, Sam!” Paul broke into a run with Winnie behind him.
Not again.
Was he going to have to witness Sam Weathers’ murder twice?

With his dying breath, the Butcher got off another shot that caught Sam between the shoulder blades, and he the twenty-first century, Gr fell to the ground. Lucifer nickered and nudged his side.

Sam and Winnie ran toward them. Paul knelt beside his great-great-grandfather. “Dammit, Sam. Don’t go without saying good-bye.”

He rolled Sam over and his eyes opened. His body now flickered with a creeping, almost imperceptible translucence. “You gave me an idea,” he said in a surreal voice Paul had heard before.

“You are
not
going to borrow my body again, old man.”

“I’m going to need a straitjacket with that ambulance,” Murphy said from where Winnie had a rag pressed to her wound.

“You’ll be all right. Trust me,” Winnie said, tears streaming silently down both cheeks. “Paul and I will explain it all later.”

“Not until she reads that dang letter,” Sam said.

“I’ll read the damned letter,” Murphy said.

“I’m going to miss you, Grandpa,” Paul said. “I always have, you know.”

“Take care of Lucifer.” They both looked over at the horse, who was also growing more and more translucent. “You think maybe he’s coming along this time?”

“Looks like.” Paul looked around. “I’ll see about sealing that portal, too.”

“Can’t do that, Paul.” Sam shook his head. “Think about it. If you do that, you could change history. A lot of history.”

“Like me and Paul in 1896?” Winnie offered.

“Exactly,” Sam said.

“I’m not hearing any of this,” Murphy whispered. “I’m delirious. That’s it.”

Winnie smiled at her. “If it helps, go ahead and think that.”

“I’ll read the letter,” Murphy repeated on a sigh. “But it better have some answers.”

“Don’t know for sure what’s in it,” Sam said. “I didn’t write it or read it.”

Paul looked toward the cave to see the divers were on shore gathering near the houseboat. “I see your point about the cave, Sam,” he said, “but I have to do something to keep it secret.”

“How about a boat house over it?” Winnie asked. “Will that work?”

Sam looked at Paul. “I see why you married this pretty redhead.”

“She’s smart, too,” Paul added. “Too smart sometimes.”

A golden glow broke through the gathering dusk. Paul shaded his eyes and looked upward. “It’s happening again, just like last time.”

“Golden stairs?” Sam sighed. “Nothin’ wrong with plain old wood.” He stood and took Lucifer’s reins. “Agent Murphy, it’s been an honor.”

She stared at him, mouth agape. “I’m not delirious. Am I?ave money for college. ”d ”

“No, you aren’t,” Paul said, his throat so full he could barely swallow.