Free Red Mountain by Dennis Yates Page B

the natives had tried to kill him. In fact they’d left him for dead. Yet somehow Charlie managed to survive the deep spear wound to his back after spending weeks hiding in the jungle undetected, going to the sea late at night and soaking the infected wound, snaring small animals and stealing from the long boats left out on the beach.
    The next time he approached the tribe, Charlie first rubbed his body down with white ashes. The tribe believed he’d come back from the dead, and it was his new ghost status that allowed him to live freely among them without fear. Later, he befriended the tribe’s witchdoctor and sometimes dentist, where he learned a style of black magic, including the ability to conjure. He’d admitted to Iris he was protected by two of the creatures he’d helped bring to life, that they were always close by in case he needed them.
    For a year and a half following the brutal murders of Greeley and his crew, Maynard moved up and down the country holding up banks. Bank employees, like many folks, found themselves easily taken in by Charlie’s immense charm. It was only after he’d departed that his befuddled victims realized they’d been robbed. Some claimed to have heard unusual sounds or saw figures that were little more than wisps of smoke. The police surmised that Charlie had the ability to mesmerize.
    Those who’d tried to collect on a bounty for Charlie’s head were never so lucky. Even those who dared to get in his way found themselves on a short cut to an early grave. In all, eleven murders were attributed to Maynard’s crime spree, which ended a month after his holdup in Wrath Butte.
    Pursued by determined lawmen since a robbery in Idaho, Maynard headed for the mountains of the Oregon Cascades, where he hoped to hide until the posse grew tired of searching for him. At first his strategy failed to test their confidence, until he slipped through their defenses and killed two lawmen while they slept next to their campfire. Having heard their horrible screams, those who’d been in charge of keeping watch ran back to find nothing but their colleague’s smoldering bones. A week later, Sheriff Longhorn’s deputies were found brutally slain. Stripped naked, their flesh had been punctured with horrific wounds. Some speculated the weapon must have been fashioned from elk horn.
    Instead of being persuaded to turn away, a band of hardened lawmen continued their hunt for Maynard…

 
     
     
    CHAPTER 15
     
     
    Robert leaned forward and vomited on the street. He pressed his palms against the side of his truck and waited for the nausea to subside. Neighborhood dogs barked at his presence, reminding him he should keep moving before someone came to a window.
    He got inside and released the brake, allowing himself to coast down hill with no engine or headlights for the next block. There were no flashlight beams darting from behind, nor any signs of police. His clothes were soaked to the bone, and he shivered until he started the truck and turned the heater on high.
    Regardless of how it happened, he was still responsible for killing someone. A family man just like he was. Robert blamed himself for being unable to gain Nolan’s trust. If he’d been able to get him to cooperate he might still be alive.
    It should have worked. The police had been called as Robert predicted. If Nolan had only done what he’d asked him to, then maybe…
    Maybe you just got him killed.
    No, Robert told himself. You did what you could, what you thought would work to save everyone. And even if he’d made the wrong decision, Nolan had been brave. He’d chosen to do what he thought was right…
    He drove the backstreets home and took a hot shower. His skin was raw and stung when he rubbed soap into it. After he toweled off, he swallowed two painkillers and lay in bed. The sheets smelled like his wife, and he turned his head and kissed her pillow before his body shut itself off.
     
    ****
     
    As he drifted off to sleep,