Day 258 – Writing exercise

…

I could hear the thumping sound of the helicopter long before it arrived, a sound I was very familiar with, one that haunted my dreams.  Years fighting a senseless war with an almost invisible enemy had taken its toll. 

So many of those I served with had died, during and since the war ended, ignominiously, and part of me had died with them.

As it got closer, it struck fear into my heart, just as it had them.  We had treated every trip out a one-way ticket to hell, and on return, the fervent wish that the politicians and diplomats would make it so we didn’t have to go again.

If wishes were water…

It hovered, blowing everything around, until it hit the ground.

A woman in a navy jumpsuit hopped out, ran bent over towards me, then out from under the rotors, and waved it back into the sky.

Eleanor Brickneal.

Three days into the search for Rodney Brickneal, nearly two hundred deputies, national guardsmen, town folk, and family hadn’t found a sign of him.

I was not surprised.  His father, a retired Admiral, said he knew the mountain like the back of his hand, and if he wanted to disappear, he would.  I was sure he was actively trying to help his son disappear; after all, there was no direct evidence linking him to the murder of his wife, and even if there was, he would dismiss it as manufactured.

But it would have been useful if Richard had hung around long enough to give us his side of the story.  Instead, my boss put out an APB labelling him armed and dangerous, and the chances of us getting him off that mountain alive dropped to zero.

“Billy.”

“Eleanor.”  Rodney’s sister.  My nemesis.

We knew each other; that is to say, I had briefly dated her in high school, and sort of stayed together until she joined the Navy, and I followed my father into law enforcement.  We just wanted different things, and Richard had spent a lifetime keeping us apart.

“You should have asked for me earlier,” she shouted in my ear as the helicopter lifted off.  Seconds later, it was gone, leaving the thudding sounds ringing in my ears.

“Your father vetoed it.  I don’t know what he’s thinking, but it isn’t helping us find him.”

“Your boss doesn’t like him.  Old running mates for Mayor.  My Dad doesn’t take losing well.”

“No one does, apparently.  You need a few minutes to prepare?  I prepared a backpack.”

“Still hike the hill?”

“Still looking for the gold.”

She smiled.  “Both of us were kidding, you know.”  It was a long-standing joke between Eleanor, Richard, and I.  He spun a very good tale, but I always believed he was telling the truth, especially when she backed it up.

I looked at her, putting on my serious expression.  “You never kid.”

“Elly.”  The Admiral caught sight of her and barked her name, enough to make her almost flinch.  They were not on the best of terms, not after she brought back my son’s body from the war zone.

“Dad.”

He glared at her.  Dad was a title she was only allowed to use in private.  Or at least that was his idea of family respect.  It was not hers.

“You didn’t need to come.  We’ve got this under control.”

“He should be here, telling the sheriff he’s innocent and why, instead of running away.  Only guilty people do that.”

“Look at what he’s up against, a corrupt Mayor and a sheriff with a personal vendetta.  Would you?”

“You’ve got no evidence, no proof.  If you convinced him to run away, then his blood will be on your hands.  Unless we can get him back.  Just remember, every day we wait while he plays this game, it gets worse for him.  His enemies are already talking about a reward.  That’ll bring out the gun-happy fortune hunters.  We need to end this now.  Why aren’t you out there looking for him?”

“Someone has to run this circus.”

I thought I was supposed to be doing that.  I shrugged.  “Then I’ll leave it in your capable hands, sir.  Eleanor and I are going to find him and bring him back alive.”

…

The sounds of the camp disappeared, and the natural sound of the forest took over.  The wind rustling through the leaves of the canopy, the aroma of the undergrowth, the trees, the rotting floor, still damp from the overnight storm that had washed away any chance of the dogs picking up a trail.

There was a special kind of silence once you were inside the forest, except for the occasional rustling, birds above, animals on the floor searching for food, the sound of your breathing as you picked up a path that had been recently used by something larger than a rabbit. 

There were bears, but this was not the time of the year they were out.  There were rumours of cats, big cats, but one hadn’t been sighted for decades.  Hunters had killed them all.  Hunters killed everything, including the deer, though recently I had been up here and seen a mother with her foal.

Eleanor was in front, where she always preferred to be.  In charge.  Even back when we were children, she had that manner and ability to manage, to assign, to be a leader and make decisions.  She had always been more mature than her age suggested.

She stopped and waited until I caught up.

“I hear you’re retiring?”

“Had enough.”

She gave me that meaningful look of hers, the one where you felt like it was a full-length body scan, searching for faults.

“What happened to that never say die attitude?”

“Goodness and light are out of vogue.  That last sheriff election, it was little more than a smear campaign.”

“Why didn’t you quit then?”

“People asked me not to.  Not everyone believed Samson would be the best choice.”

“Yet he still won?”

“You know how it works.  I couldn’t find any proof that they cheated, but finding that box of 532 votes that put him over the line, that didn’t seem right.  Same ballot box that got the mayor over the line too.”

“Dad has been muttering about that too.  Times have changed.  Staying or leaving when you’re done?”

“Leaving.  Nothing for me here now.”

Nothing but painful memories.  A son killed in another senseless war, a death Emma, my companion for more years than I could remember, succumbing to the grief she could never recover from.  The cancer the doctors said they had removed came back, and a year later she was gone.

Eleanor had come back for the funeral, the first time in a few years, and she had changed too.  I could see it, even though from the outside she seemed the same.  War did that to a soul, slowly bleeding the goodness out of you.

She took a drink from the bottle, then put it back.

“Onwards and upwards”

It was her favourite line, and often she would strike out and leave us laggers behind.

“You thinking what I’m thinking?”

Her expression sometimes gave away what she was thinking.  Rarely, but it was there if you knew what to look for.  We both knew Richard better than anyone else.  He had a special place, up on the mountain, one he told us about but never showed us.  We both tried to follow him, but his skill in the forest was legendary.  But we had an idea where it might be, even though we had looked for it.

The thing is, we may have seen it and walked right past it.

“We’re starting at the last time either of us saw him.”  Then her expression changed.  Surprise, or something else.  “You were waiting.”

“For what?”

“Me.”

“Why?”

“Because you didn’t want to find him without me.  You know he’s innocent.”

“I know he couldn’t have done it.  It doesn’t mean he’s entirely innocent, but it’s a tick in a box.  He hasn’t exactly been a good boy, you know.  And Zelda, she was always courting trouble, snuggling up to the mayor.”

A look of disgust crossed her face.

“Not like that, but someone else.  I suspect she was recruited.  Information is the equivalent of gold these days.  And reneging, well, that can be bad for your health.  Maybe she accidentally found something that she was not supposed to.  I don’t know all the facts.”

“I thought you were not allowed to investigate?”

“I wasn’t.”

“Does Conway know what you’ve been up to?”

“He knows I have a rapport with this town, and my reputation, and he’s not stupid.”

“Then that adds a level of complexity.”  She looked around carefully, a complete 360-degree scan.  Sounds in the forest were going to take on a different meaning.

“Eyes and ears peeled, Billy.”

…

Trudging through the forest was not easy, especially where you had to forge your own trail.  Both our cell phones had GPS and kept us going in the right direction, though if we were being observed, it was not exactly straight.

I realised after half an hour that she was not continuously walking directly to a particular point, so if anyone was tracking us, they would hardly make sense of it.  Aside from the fact that once we left the bottom of the hill area, just off the camp side and car park, we started climbing, and the path was littered with rocks, fallen branches, and trees blocking the way.

It was slow progress.  We crossed trails, one rather fresh, that looked like dirt bikers made them, even though dirt bikes were banned.

After an hour, we reached a clearing which showed signs of recent activity: in the centre a fire pit, and around the edges, flattened grass indicating tents.  What was particularly annoying was that whoever was there just left their rubbish lying around.

“A month, two at the most,” she said.  “A long way to come just to make camp.”

“Maybe not.”

There had been rumours the mayor was courting a mining company to come up and do a survey for rare minerals that he believed were in the vicinity.  He had discovered some old prospecting notes in the city archives going back a hundred years, at a time when the rare minerals were not useful for anything.  Not like these days with mobile phones and computers needing resources that other countries were buying in order to monopolise the global market.

“The mayor is trying to sell off the wilderness as a mining bonanza.  For him and his cronies, of course, not for the betterment of the town.  Rare earth minerals, I’m told.”

“They’d be still here if they found any.”

I shrugged.  “We’ll never know until it’s too late.”

There were trails leading off the clearing, and we ventured along several, but they didn’t lead to anything other than what looked like scrapings for samples and holes dug to varying depths.

“Perhaps,” I said, after finding a rather deep hole at the edge of a ravine, “they actually found that gold Richard kept referring to.”

She simply shook her head, and we set off again, once again disappearing into the undergrowth.

Time passed slowly, or it seemed like it did.  We were this way, then that, then found a break in the undergrowth making progress easier.  Then, through the sounds of the wind in the trees, there was another sound, like rushing water. 

I knew there were several waterfalls and small lakes, and a river that snaked through the valley between two mountains, but I thought it was further away.  Perhaps it was not.

We headed towards the sound, and all of a sudden came out onto a small lake and on one side, a waterfall.  We were close to it, so close we could feel the drops of water being blown towards us.  It was a magnificent sight; one few would get to see.

“I don’t remember seeing this before,” she said.

“True.  I haven’t either, but then this was never part of the trail I took.  We always took a more roundabout way, which I always thought was Richard’s way of disorientating us.”

I took several photographs.  She noted the coordinates on her GPS.

We both saw what looked like a rough path leading towards the waterfall itself.

“Is that a path?”

“Only one way to find out.”

It was hazardous going because the rocks we wet and some mossy.  The noise got louder, and the spray denser, and water was running down the inside of my jacket.  It was cold, very cold.

“I can see a cave,” she said, then moved towards a gap between the rockface and the water.

Seconds later she disappeared.

I followed.

All of a sudden we were behind the wall of water, the sound of it thunderous, so loud I couldn’t hear what she said.  She motioned to follow, and we went along a few yards, when she turned right and headed into the rockface.

It was a cave.

We pulled out the torches and switched them on.  Behind the waterfall was a large cavern, and as we moved into it, the sound of the waterfall lessened.  Once inside, it was like a foyer, with tunnels leading off in several directions.

I looked down at the floor and notice footprints.  Several sets of tracks made by similar boots.

“This might be the secret hideaway,” I said, aiming the torchlight at the ground.

“They head into that cave.” she pointed her torch, and the beam only went so far.

I shrugged.  “Curious?”

She started walking, stopped, then switched off her torch.  “Kill it,” she whispered.

I did.  It was not total darkness; we still had light coming from behind the waterfall, but dark enough to blend into the shadows.

“What?”

“Voices.”

…

We waited.  I wanted to continue, with lights out, to see who or what was at the end, but she thought it was best to wait.

In the end, we did.  For half an hour.  Nothing.

“Now?”

“They might be waiting for us.  They had to see the light from the torches.”

“Who do you think ‘they’ might be.  Richard?”

“There were at least two voices.”

Richard and a friend, or accomplice?  “If it is him, I don’t think he’s going to kill his favourite sister.”

“Not so much a favourite these days.”

There wasn’t a scenario where I thought that could be possible.  “Then I’ll go, and you can wait here.  I’m sure he’ll hesitate long enough before shooting me.  Even he should realise I’m not his enemy.”

“He might not be in a rational state of mind.”

He might not, but then, if it was the Richard I knew, he was never irrational, just downright irritating.  There was a difference.

“Give me a few minutes, then follow.  Slowly.”

She put a hand on my shoulder.  “You don’t have to do this to impress me.”

“I tried that once, Eleanor, and it didn’t work then.  It’s my job.”

With that, and the fact my eyes had adjusted to the low-level light, it made it easier to see a lot further.  It was just one foot in front of the other, one hand on the wall, which was wet, and in places the water was trickling down to the floor. 

And the surface water was moving slowly in the direction I was heading which meant I was heading downwards.  Ten steps, then another ten.  The floor was uneven, but it seemed like someone had hewn the sides and the floor to make them flatter.  A hundred steps, give or take, I reached a wall, and the tunnel reached a T-intersection.

A choice of going left or right.

I carefully peered to the left and could see light at the end, perhaps another entrance.  There was the slight noise of the waterfall coming from that direction.  I could see nothing to the right, which meant it went further into the mountain.

Looking behind me, I could not see whether Eleanor was behind me, or even if she had followed me.

I turned the corner and started walking towards the light.  Ten steps, another five; I found myself counting them, I heard a noise behind me.  I thought it was Eleanor.

“Hello, Billy.”

It was Richard.  He switched on his torch but kept it facing down so it didn’t blind me.  It was a sign.

“Richard.  I guess you aren’t going to tell me this is your special place.”

“It was.  Seems every one knows about it.  Why are you here?”

“I thought that would be obvious.”

“I didn’t kill her.”

“Running away says otherwise.  The mayor and sheriff have half the town looking for you.”

“I know.”

“Who were you talking to, just before?”

He sighed.  “You don’t need to know.  Just like you didn’t see me.  Things would have been different if you had remained sheriff.”

“Times have changed.  Out with the old, in with the new.  That was his catchcry and won with it.”

“He cheated.  They both cheated.”

“Can you prove it?”

“My assistant told them how to.  I went to Samson with the evidence, and he told me if I didn’t keep my mouth closed there would be repercussions.  I told the mayor he had a corrupt sheriff, and next thing I knew, Zelda was dead, and Samson was looking for me.  I just learned he has three men out in the woods.  The moment I show my face I’m dead.”

“How did you assistant know how to fix the result?”  Eleanor had come silently up behind us.

“Elly.  What are you doing here?”

“Billy thought you would need someone around to tell you how to save yourself.  I suspect now we know what you know; none of us are.  Fixing elections, Rich.  Is there no limit to your perfidy?”

“It was a theoretical scenario.  Samson asked us to formulate ways the election might be fixed, and it was just one of a half dozen.  I refused the commission; my assistant saw a way of making some quick money.  He left the day after the election.  Now I know why.”

“Is there another way out of this place?”  Other than the one in front of us, or going back the way we came.  If anyone was following us…

“Back into the mountain for about a hundred yards.  There’s about a half dozen tunnels, mostly man-made, old workings.  There was gold in these hills, but not enough to make money.  Nowadays with the price of gold, who knows.”

“We stumbled on a clearing not far from here.”

“Prospectors.  Rare earth minerals, all the rage.  Conway believes it’s here.  They found traces of gold instead.  He’s trying to get the land rezoned for mining.  I’m fighting to prevent that.”

“We’d better go.”  Eleanor was not one to stand still.

He turned, stepped up to her.  “It’s good to see you.  I’m surprised the Navy could let you go.”

“Family.  Or what’s left of it.”

He the lead, she followed and I brought up the rear.

We got twenty yards before a strong blinding light flared in front of us, and we had to stop. 

“You are not going anywhere.”

It was a voice I didn’t recognise.  The owner stepped out from behind and armed his rifle as he stepped towards us.  I suspect he could shoot all three of us before we could get close enough to disarm him.  The extra sounds from behind him told me there was more than one.

I took a step closer to stand beside Eleanor.  “You do know I’m the Deputy Sheriff, and beside me is a Captain in the US Navy.”

“You could be the king and queen of England for all I care.  No one will ever find you, so I hardly think I have anything to worry about.  Now, the boss would like to have words, so let’s take things real slow and easy and no one will get hurt.”

Two more men came from behind the light, and each one came over to check whether we were armed.  Or at least that was the plan.

“Brace,” Eleanor screamed

A second later the tunnel we had come from the waterfall exploded with a huge fire flash and rocks going everywhere.  The sound of the explosion in the confined space was deafening, but prepared, it gave us the seconds we needed to overcome the three men.

They were on the ground and unconscious before the dust and rocks from the blast had settled.

“You found the explosive?” I said.

“You and your toys.”

“Just in case.  All part of being a Boy Scout in another lifetime.”

“Let’s go,” Richard said.  “We should shoot them, but there’s no point adding to the problems.  Follow me.”

…

©  Charles Heath  2026