you agreed to help me do this, I told you there weren’t many rules, but you broke the most important one. You swore me an oath and I accepted that oath. Now here we are.”
He nodded at Carlos, who reluctantly gripped the men by their wrists and pulled them down to their knees.
Quarry stood over them. “Speak to your God, men, if you got one. I’ll give you time to do that.”
Daryl started mumbling what sounded like the fragments of a prayer. The thin man just started to cry.
Sixty seconds later Quarry said, “Done? Okay.”
He placed the Patriot against the base of Daryl’s skull.
“Oh, Jesus. Sweet Jesus,” wailed Daryl.
“Please,” screamed the other man.
Quarry’s finger slipped from the metal guard onto the trigger. Yet he ended up pulling away the Patriot. He didn’t exactly know why, he just did.
“Get up!”
Daryl looked at him in astonishment. “What?”
“I said get up.”
Daryl stood on shaky legs. Quarry stared at the man’s scratched-up face and the blood red right eye, then he ripped open the front of Daryl’s shirt. A large purplish bruise was revealed between the man’s muscled pecs.
“You say it was a woman who shot you?”
“Yes sir. It was dark, but I could still see it was a girl.”
“That
girl
was a damn good shot. By all rights you ought to be dead anyway, boy.”
“Wore the armor like you told us,” Daryl gasped. “I’m sorry she got killed. I didn’t mean for it to happen. I’m sorry.”
“And you say you
think
you left a vial behind?”
“Just the one. It was all rushed like after what happened, especially when the other folks showed up. We counted the vials up on the way back. But they gonna know we took the woman’s blood anyway, when they cut her open and stuff.”
Quarry looked uncertain for a moment. “Get the hell on, then.”
“What?”
Quarry nodded at a relieved Carlos, who quickly unshackled Daryl. The man rubbed his raw wrists and looked at the thin man still on his knees. “What about Kurt?”
Quarry shoved the muzzle against Daryl’s chest. “No moretalking. Now get on before I change my mind. Kurt’s not your concern.”
Daryl staggered off, fell, picked himself back up, and stumbled onward into the dark.
Quarry turned back to Kurt.
“Please, Mr. Quarry,” the condemned man mumbled.
“I’m sorry about this, Kurt. But what we got here is an eye for an eye, boy.”
“But Daryl’s the one what killed the lady, sir.”
“He’s also my
son
. I don’t have much, but I got him.”
He pointed the pistol at Kurt’s head.
“But you’re like a daddy to me, Mr. Quarry,” said Kurt, the tears lapping down his cheeks.
“That’s what makes this so damn hard.”
“This is crazy, Mr. Quarry. You crazy,” he screamed.
“Damn right I’m crazy, boy!” Quarry shouted right back. “Crazy as a mad hatter on crack. It’s in my blood. No way to shake it.”
Kurt threw himself sideways and tried to wriggle away, his clunky boots throwing up little clouds of coal dust. His screams swept down the shaft, like the Union soldiers before.
“Hold the damn light closer, Carlos,” ordered Quarry. “I don’t want him to suffer one second more than he’s got to.”
The Patriot barked and Kurt stopped trying to get away.
Quarry let the gun drop and swing next to his side. He mumbled something incomprehensible while Carlos crossed himself.
“You know how pissed off I am about this?” said Quarry. “You understand my level of rage
and
disappointment?”
“Yes, sir,” said Carlos.
Quarry nudged dead Kyle with his boot, stuck the heated Patriot in his waistband.
He turned and marched on down the shaft. To daylight.
He was tired of the dark.
He just wanted to fly.
10
M ICHELLE LEFT HER PISTOL in her locked safe box in the SUV. She had no desire to sit in a federal prison for the next several years contemplating the error of her ways for trying to waltz into the White House with a loaded weapon.
They had lost the
He nodded at Carlos, who reluctantly gripped the men by their wrists and pulled them down to their knees.
Quarry stood over them. “Speak to your God, men, if you got one. I’ll give you time to do that.”
Daryl started mumbling what sounded like the fragments of a prayer. The thin man just started to cry.
Sixty seconds later Quarry said, “Done? Okay.”
He placed the Patriot against the base of Daryl’s skull.
“Oh, Jesus. Sweet Jesus,” wailed Daryl.
“Please,” screamed the other man.
Quarry’s finger slipped from the metal guard onto the trigger. Yet he ended up pulling away the Patriot. He didn’t exactly know why, he just did.
“Get up!”
Daryl looked at him in astonishment. “What?”
“I said get up.”
Daryl stood on shaky legs. Quarry stared at the man’s scratched-up face and the blood red right eye, then he ripped open the front of Daryl’s shirt. A large purplish bruise was revealed between the man’s muscled pecs.
“You say it was a woman who shot you?”
“Yes sir. It was dark, but I could still see it was a girl.”
“That
girl
was a damn good shot. By all rights you ought to be dead anyway, boy.”
“Wore the armor like you told us,” Daryl gasped. “I’m sorry she got killed. I didn’t mean for it to happen. I’m sorry.”
“And you say you
think
you left a vial behind?”
“Just the one. It was all rushed like after what happened, especially when the other folks showed up. We counted the vials up on the way back. But they gonna know we took the woman’s blood anyway, when they cut her open and stuff.”
Quarry looked uncertain for a moment. “Get the hell on, then.”
“What?”
Quarry nodded at a relieved Carlos, who quickly unshackled Daryl. The man rubbed his raw wrists and looked at the thin man still on his knees. “What about Kurt?”
Quarry shoved the muzzle against Daryl’s chest. “No moretalking. Now get on before I change my mind. Kurt’s not your concern.”
Daryl staggered off, fell, picked himself back up, and stumbled onward into the dark.
Quarry turned back to Kurt.
“Please, Mr. Quarry,” the condemned man mumbled.
“I’m sorry about this, Kurt. But what we got here is an eye for an eye, boy.”
“But Daryl’s the one what killed the lady, sir.”
“He’s also my
son
. I don’t have much, but I got him.”
He pointed the pistol at Kurt’s head.
“But you’re like a daddy to me, Mr. Quarry,” said Kurt, the tears lapping down his cheeks.
“That’s what makes this so damn hard.”
“This is crazy, Mr. Quarry. You crazy,” he screamed.
“Damn right I’m crazy, boy!” Quarry shouted right back. “Crazy as a mad hatter on crack. It’s in my blood. No way to shake it.”
Kurt threw himself sideways and tried to wriggle away, his clunky boots throwing up little clouds of coal dust. His screams swept down the shaft, like the Union soldiers before.
“Hold the damn light closer, Carlos,” ordered Quarry. “I don’t want him to suffer one second more than he’s got to.”
The Patriot barked and Kurt stopped trying to get away.
Quarry let the gun drop and swing next to his side. He mumbled something incomprehensible while Carlos crossed himself.
“You know how pissed off I am about this?” said Quarry. “You understand my level of rage
and
disappointment?”
“Yes, sir,” said Carlos.
Quarry nudged dead Kyle with his boot, stuck the heated Patriot in his waistband.
He turned and marched on down the shaft. To daylight.
He was tired of the dark.
He just wanted to fly.
10
M ICHELLE LEFT HER PISTOL in her locked safe box in the SUV. She had no desire to sit in a federal prison for the next several years contemplating the error of her ways for trying to waltz into the White House with a loaded weapon.
They had lost the
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