Berlin Mesa by Michael Frost Beckner

Author:Michael Frost Beckner
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Montrose Station Press LLC
Published: 2022-08-15T00:00:00+00:00

42

THE THICKEST PATCHES OF MUD made parts of the road too dangerous to ride, forcing Cartwright to walk the black-and-white mustang as he followed the path of the trucks and the hoofprints of Tyler’s bay. He’d seen the thick places where the trucks had repeatedly stuck. This land wasn’t made for machines. The distance that had grown between hunted and hunter on the highways was closing in the wilderness.

A wide rain runoff cut the FBI agent’s path. Cartwright crossed it, ankle deep, coaxing his horse, as it didn’t prefer wading. He’d not ridden a horse since his Army days, and he almost made the mistake of letting his mind wander back to that time when, coming out on the other side, the tire tracks resumed, but the bay’s prints were gone.

Cartwright’s hand flew to his gun as the clack-clack cock of a rifle behind him froze him in his tracks.

“Not much trouble tracking us, huh?” said Tyler.

“Before you were born, Mr. Keyes, the cavalry used horses instead of tanks.”

“And you chased scalpin’ Injuns?” Tyler stepped in close and removed Cartwright’s .38 from his hand. He stepped back. “Turn around if you’d like.”

“It was Pancho Villa.”

“Never caught him, didja?”

Cartwright’s silence was answer enough.

“Unlike you, I won’t fail.” Tyler said.

Cartwright watched Tyler—rifle steady on him—retrieve his horse from the thicket where he’d hidden it.

“Mind if I ask you a question?” said Cartwright.

“Probably won’t answer it. Now, go in front and get walking.”

Cartwright complied. “How come you let her father and that weaselly sheriff send you up?”

“No more talking.”

“No one would’ve convicted you of rape for what happened. Unless you confessed.”

“What’s your name?”

“Agent Cartwright. Talk to me now—”

“Agent Cartwright, stop talking.”

Cartwright stopped walking. He faced Tyler. “You could have outdistanced me the whole way. Why’d you stop for me?”

Tyler didn’t say anything. He let Cartwright figure it out. “They’re up ahead.”

“I must’ve managed to hit one last night,” said Tyler. He prodded him with his rifle.

“I’m bait?” Cartwright whispered.

“We can call you a distraction if it makes you feel safer.”

“The hell you say. I won’t be the one who ends up missing Christmas.”

“Then we got to get you through this to get you to that. Now move it.”

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