The Target by Roger Weston

Author:Roger Weston [Weston, Roger]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-12-29T23:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 14

Midnight

Jake decided to camp out with the artists and Red Mayo because the sailors had their lodgings over in the manager’s house, and Jake didn’t feel welcome there. Not that sleeping under the same roof as Ava was appealing, but he was too tired to fuss about it. At least here he could get some rest and think about how Ava had poisoned the waters to the point where some of the sailors were about ready to string Jake up. Talia reminded Jake that Horace had also threatened him, and Horace had friends that would do anything he said. Horace had left, of course, but he wouldn’t have gone far in an open boat. Horace was no Ernest Shackleton.

The artists, including Len Jackson and Red Mayo, were now shacked up in the station store, which was a good place to be because Red had boarded up the windows. Since Jake and Red had made a run out to the boat earlier, they all now had flashlights, which was good because there was no fireplace in here.

The store was sturdy although the walls vibrated when the winds pounded the building, and the sounds of creaking beams and moaning winds made Jake wonder if the whole building would collapse. The store’s interior was twenty-by-twenty with shelves on the walls. The crew was all in sleeping bags lain out on tarps from the ship. Red looked asleep, eyes closed, his climbing pick at his side. Len Jackson was over in the corner, sitting on his bag and studying digital photos in his camera. Strom Pace was stretching, and he groaned on occasion from his aches and pains. He clung to a bottle of pills, and sometimes it made a rattling sound. Talia was writing in her diary, which was lit up by her flashlight. Ava was fully dressed sitting against the door and looking at a picture book of hot glass creations. She’d gone exploring for several hours, but since she’d returned, she’d been more relaxed and friendly.

In the weak light of a battery-powered lantern, Jake lay in his sleeping bag thinking about the funeral. He had liked Andreas. In his mind, all he could hear was the crack of that gunshot over and over again, and he kept seeing Andreas fall forward over the grave stones. If the sniper had been trying to demoralize them, then he’d done a good job. It infuriated Jake to think that it had happened right in front of him, and there was nothing he could do about it. Tomorrow someone else might get shot. Maybe tonight even.

He didn’t know what to do next. Was he supposed to just keep on digging graves until the crew was wiped out by attrition? Tomorrow he’d have to start digging another grave in the frozen earth. Where would he dig this one? It certainly wouldn’t be out in the open. Maybe he’d just think about it for a day or two. Andreas was frozen solid and wasn’t going anywhere.

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