Bitterroot Crossing (21 page)

    “You do?” She was shaking so hard I threw the heavy throw from the couch around her shoulders in the hope of comforting her with warmth. I rubbed her thin arms to soothe away the gooseflesh.

    “Zedekiah told me they need to be buried properly. That’s all they’ve ever wanted.”

    “But how can that be done?”

    “I’m not sure, but I hope Zedekiah can tell us.” Just then a burst of light and a loud explosion of heated air lit up the yard. I ran to the window. “They’ve made a giant ball of fire.

    Nana ran to the window now too. “It can’t penetrate the walls. The fire must come from inside like in the minister’s church.” They paraded around the yard with their massive ball of fire”. When I saw where they were headed I nearly lost my breath. The barn was wide open. Axel bent over and rolled the ball of flames inside and it instantly caught fire.

    “No! Mandy!” I raced to the door. Nana grabbed my arm but I yanked it free and ran as fast as my bare feet could carry me. I didn’t see either ghost. Smoke had already filled the entire barn. Mandy whinnied loudly and I felt my way to her stall. Flames licked at my face and hands. Hot smoke choked my throat and stung my eyes.

    In the dark, I found the latch to Mandy’s stall and opened it. The terrified horse galloped out, kicking and bucking in fright. The mare’s back hoof grazed my shoulder and I flew back into the straw bedding. That’s when icy fingers grabbed my wrist and pulled me up and out of the barn. The smoke made it impossible to see anything, but I hoped with all my heart that the fingers that had hold of me were Zedekiah’s. A dreadful feeling inside told me that it wasn’t him.

    I was bent over in a coughing fit for several minutes. My throat burned and my eyes watered. “That’s enough, Crow, grab her up and let’s get out of here.” I stumbled backward trying to get out of Crow’s reach, but only succeeded in falling on my bottom. I scooted on my rear but escape was impossible. Axel was standing on the porch holding the back door shut so Nana could not get out. I was actually thankful that she was secure inside.

    Crow reached down, yanked me to my feet, and slung me over a frigid, foul smelling shoulder. Within moments I was lifted away from the safety of the farm. Down below, through the haze, I could see Nana in the yard yelling and waving her arms helplessly. I kicked and screamed but his icy fingers only dug into me more. They had me. The Crush Gang finally had what they’d come for tonight. And Zedekiah was nowhere in sight.

Chapter 29

    The creepy fog had returned, and it circled the bottom half of the mountain like a gray, fuzzy tutu. Luckily the moon was full and even with a slight cloud cover it lit the way as I rode up the path. We’d wasted hours searching town. It was almost as if Sheriff Fielding and the others hadn’t really wanted to meet up with Baxter’s captors. After all they had no idea what to do once they found them. None of the people in town, with the exception of Dad and me had ever faced them down. Something all along had told me they were up here on the mountain. This was the place they knew best. This was the place they seemed to have the most power. One thing I’d noticed is no matter what they did down below, eventually they were drawn back to the swamp. Maybe they needed it to rejuvenate their ghostliness. I wasn’t sure, but they rarely ventured far from it. So I planned to start my search at the disgusting hole in the ground they called home.

    I shut off my engine, hid my bike in some bushes, and walked the rest of the way to the swamp. I’d come unarmed. Not that one fire extinguisher would do much against all five of them. But at this point I was mad enough to take them all on, especially Zedekiah.

    I was not fifty feet from the clearing where the swamp lay when I heard a small whimper. I pushed through the blackened trees. Moonlight glowed across the sticky green hole of mire and there, in the center of it, suspended several inches above the swamp’s surface sat Baxter clinging tightly to one of the metal chairs from the town hall. His face was white and his body shook wildly as he sat on the chair with only his trembling fingers to hold onto the seat. Steamer and Butcher stood along the side of the swamp laughing and hurling stones at the poor kid.

    My foot landed on a brittle twig and the snap of it turned their attention to me. Butcher had a stone the size of a fist which he flung at me. I caught it and sent it back at him, temporarily shaving off the corner of his fat head.

    Baxter was too scared to turn his head, but he seemed to sense my presence. “Nick?” his voice was so weak it could barely travel the distance of the swamp.

    “I’m here, buddy. I’ll get you out of there right now. Just hold on.”

    Butcher laughed but Steamer just crossed his massive arms and stared at me. “Let’s see you do it, boy,” he bellowed.

    I shrugged off my coat and hat but decided to leave on my shoes. I had no idea how deep the thing was or what lurked below its surface. I walked to the edge and looked down at the greasy edge. It looked like a mixture of green pudding and car oil. And it smelled about the same. For some reason my audience did not try to stop me. They stood and watched with two of the ugliest grins I’ve ever seen. The others were nowhere in sight. They were definitely up to something, but I had no choice. Baxter was not going to last much longer out there.

    “Here goes,” I said and waded in. My feet felt like they were being sucked into sticky tar and I wondered if I’d get stuck in the swamp like the dinosaurs did in the tar pits. I hated the thought of being fossilized next to these guys. I yanked hard on my feet and almost lost both my shoes, but I kept trudging through. Disgusting would have been a pleasant word to describe what it felt like. I kept my arms high above the surface trying to at least keep my hands and face out of it, but suddenly, the bottom disappeared. My foot searched for something to stand on, but it was like stepping off a sandbar in the ocean and finding the sea floor was gone.

    Baxter whimpered softly and the chair vibrated. He grabbed hold tighter causing the chair to tilt slightly. “Hold on, Baxter. By the way, bro, do you know how to swim?”

    “Kind of,” he said through soft sobs.

    Kind of didn’t sound too reassuring. I wasn’t totally sure that I could swim in liquid that was thick as caramel. I looked back at Butcher and Steamer. 

    Butcher waved obnoxiously. “Watch it, Crush, tends to get a little deep there in the middle.”

    “Yeah, thanks,” I said. Then an ugly thought occurred. What if they were waiting there patiently for me to jump in so they could hold me down? That idea sent a shiver up my spine. Man, did I hate these ghosts.

    I looked back at Baxter. His face was completely drained of blood, and I was amazed he hadn’t passed out yet. He’d be slipping off that chair any second.

    When you’re a kid and you’re taking your first jump into the deep end, the longer you think about it the harder it is to jump. I stopped thinking about it and pushed into the swamp water keeping my chin up high and my mouth shut tightly. I could only imagine what the swamp tasted like. Swimming through it was like swimming against a current with a parachute tied onto my back. My arms and legs were getting one hell of a workout. I pulled through the liquid and was about fifteen feet from Baxter when something sharp pinched my forearm.

    “Ouch, shit. What is that?” I used my legs to stay afloat and lifted my arm above the surface. The bony fingers of a skeletal hand were skewering the skin of my arm. I yelled and shook it but it held tight.

    “Nick,” Baxter called but was still too afraid to turn his head. For that I was thankful because it was freaking me the hell out. It would definitely have scared the crap out of him.

    I looked back at the shore. Steamer’s big arm was reaching out as if it were holding onto something. He shook the invisible thing he was holding and my arm shook violently with it. It was Steamer’s skeletal hand that had hold of me. I tried to use my other hand to break off the fingers, but it was tough to stay afloat with both arms occupied. Plus the skeleton hand was tough and rubbery, not brittle like I’d expected. Years of bog water must have softened the bones.

    Butcher’s laughter roared through the clearing, and I twisted around to see what they were up to. Steamer grinned then jerked his arm downward. I took a deep breath figuring I was going under. My arm was yanked down first. As my head went below the surface I realized that I was going to die right there in the swamp.

    I squeezed shut my eyes and mouth and used all my strength to break away from the bony fingers, but they just cut deeper into my flesh. I kicked out furiously hoping to push back to the surface. I wasn’t going to be able to hold my breath much longer and my state of panic wasn’t helping. Then something snapped. The hand still held me but it was no longer attached to the rest of the skeleton. My head broke through and I gasped for air.

    Briny swamp water trickled into my throat sending me into a short coughing fit. I took in a final deep breath to clear my lungs and looked toward the chair. Baxter’s head dropped from side to side like rag doll. He was ready to slide off the chair in a faint. A ghostly moan of anguish or pain or something roared across the swamp. Steamer was standing on shore with no hand. The fingers released me. I looked back at my arm. Zedekiah was in the swamp with me. He had hold of the skeletal hand. Baxter’s limp body slid off the chair and plopped into the swamp. The chair followed.  

    “Get the boy. I’ll take care of these vermin.” He threw the hand like a missile through the trees. Steamer disappeared after it.

    I swam to where the chair still bobbed above the surface and groped around until I found Baxter’s shirt. The swamp wasn’t easy to swim in but it also wasn’t easy to sink in. Suddenly Zedekiah was on shore facing down Butcher, who stood all by himself now. Two seconds later, Butcher vanished obviously not wanting to stand up to Zedekiah alone.

    Dragging Baxter across the swamp was a chore. My arm was bleeding badly and my legs were tired. Zedekiah watched me struggle for a moment then lifted us both out of the gross soup and placed us on shore.

    Baxter came around but didn’t seem to remember where he was at first. We were both shivering uncontrollably under our layer of sticky swamp water. Zedekiah stood nearby looking down at us.

    “I guess I should say thanks,” I said. “But, I’ve got to say, I’m totally confused.”

    “Confused about what?” Zedekiah grabbed up my dry coat and dropped it around Baxter’s shoulders.

    “All this time you’ve been harassing me to stay away from Jessie so you could have her to yourself then you step in and save me from what was sure to be a really ugly way to die.” A shudder ran through my body again just thinking about drowning in that horrid swamp.

    “One visit to the lumber yard is not really harassment. Besides, I was jealous at the time. I was still convinced that Rebecca had come back to me.”

    “What about when your guys pinned me to the tree and smacked the hell out of me? Then they told me they’d get Baxter if I didn’t stay away from Jessie. You’re telling me you didn’t send them?”

    “No, I didn’t. We don’t exactly communicate anymore.” Zedekiah sat down next to us.

    “But they’re your gang.”

    Zedekiah shook his head. “That little bond of friendship ended before we all hung. When I discovered they were a bunch of no-good traitors.”

    “So all this time I’ve been blaming you for the shit that’s been happening. Actually, I’m still pissed at you. You swept in with your cool black hat and outlaw swagger and stole my girl away.”

    “What can I say,” he lit his cigarette and took a hit, “I’m a Crush.”

    “Yeah, well so am I.”

    Baxter’s jaw was trembling with cold and his lips were slightly blue. He smiled at me. “You’re the best, Nick,” he said weakly.

    I threw my arm around his shoulder.

    “Those guys were mean. They kept calling me names. Nick, what’s a deek oy?”

    “A what?”

    “A deek oy. That’s what they kept calling me. I told them my name was Baxter but they still kept calling me a deek oy.”