Up beyond Fairplay.
Toward the ville of Harmony.
THE RAIN CAME DOWN ceaselessly, and Ryan was quickly soaked to the skin. There was a great deal of thunder and, for about an hour, a ferocious chem storm with violent shocks of pink-purple lightning. Out on the exposed flank of the mountain, with a rifle slung across his shoulders, Ryan felt vulnerable and quickly sought cover, ending up crouched among the blue spruces that lined the trail.
While he waited out the storm, he tried to guess whether Krysty and the others were ahead or behind him. The odds seemed to be that they were behind, which meant there was a temptation to hole up for a day or so and wait for them. Perhaps when he reached the little ville of Alma that was marked on his mental map?
But if they’d shortcutted him and got ahead, then every hour he waited would be another hour he’d fall behind.
If they were behind him, then they should be safe from this killing gang. If they were ahead, then they could easily run into them. Despite J.B’s firepower-aided by the othersthey would still be vulnerable to twenty or more armed killers.
Ryan felt the hairs standing on his nape, and he crouched lower, laying the rifle flat in the pine needles. He smelled ozone moments before he experienced a flash of lightning so close that it blinded him for several seconds. The thunder was on top of the lightning, making the marrow of his bones vibrate and the ground tremble beneath his boots.
“Fireblast!” he whispered, his voice sounding faint and far away.
It took him a few moments to collect his scattered, shattered thoughts. Krysty and the others. The gang. One other possibility was that the gang had split into two or more parts in order to raid a larger area.
But that made the range of imponderables so vast that it was a waste of time thinking about them.
As the rain eased a little and the storm passed across the valley, Ryan shouldered the rifle and set off down the slippery trail.
DAWN COINCIDED with his reaching the end of the track, down at the valley bottom, with the highway leading left to right in front of him. His path lay to the right, to the south, more or less toward the rising sun that was just showing behind the high peaks.
Eight miles would take him to Alma, and a further six or seven to Fairplay.
But it was going to be steep walking, and he figured he’d do well to cover the distance to the top before the middle of the afternoon. He finished all his food and the last swig of milk, then filled the canteen with fresh meltwater from the river that crossed his trail.
Before going on he glanced up and behind him, trying to trace the track down from the head of the pass, among the dense blanket of spruce. He wondered if he might catch a glimpse of Krysty and the others, but knew what a long shot that was.
Ryan turned and began the haul up the road, which glistened wetly in the dawn light.
ALL THE COMPANIONS were well filled, and J.B. had ordered some trail food for the hike.
Outside the steamed-up window of the diner, the morning looked bleak and miserable. There was no sign of any letup in the grim weather. Rain streamed from a dark sky, forming rivulets along the blocked gutters at the edges of the highway through Leadville. It had poured all night with spectacular thunder and lightning that had awakened all of themexcept Doc, who claimed that he would have slept through the San Francisco earthquake.
“Could have caused some double-bad damage out on the high trails,” Carl said worriedly.
“Ryan can look after himself,” J.B. said. “If anyone can.”
“Don’t tempt Providence,” Krysty touched the wooden leg of the table for luck.
“Sure he can.” Jak spoke through a mouthful of sweet roll, splattering the table with crumbs.
“Wish him all the best, when you see him,” Joanna said, leaning on the serving counter. “And if any of you ever pass this way again, you’d be rightly welcome.”