Excerpt





Chapter Six







Wallys entire body shook as he watched the vehicle fade from sight. He had talked too much, made Butch think he knew about the money. Stupid jerk! He figured the big man would go back to town, call the brothers, get drunker and come back to kill him. He knew what he had to do. Terminate the enemy!

It was past dinnertime when he calmly opened a can of beef stew and warmed it over his propane stove. Then, with a large spoon, he scooped it into a soup bowl and ate. Once his mind experienced too much stress it broke down. Like now. The voices were getting louder. Kill him! Kill him!

Butchs face flashed before him, the gun he was carrying, the way he had threatened Duchess, the pungent smell of his breath. Suddenly, Wallys world changed. He wasnt in the mountains of Arizona but in the jungles of Viet Nam. The voices were demanding. Be prepared. Kill him before he kills you.

Filled with sweat, Wally could feel the heavy humidity of the acrid jungle, the smell of smoke coming from Agent Orange, the fires burning in the intense heat. He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. If he stepped outside into the thick reeds, would he be caught in one of death traps set for the Americans, the pits of hell filled with sharpened knives? Hed seen the carnage. It never left his mind: the traps dug deep in the earth covered so meticulously with leaves and foliage. Holes filled with death.

After dinner he washed his dishes and stacked them neatly in the kitchen cabinet. Duchess hadnt eaten so he fed her. Then he went to the fireplace and retrieved some old ashes and took them to the bathroom. In front of the mirror he smudged the residue on his face, just as he had done in Nam to blend with the night. Only there he had used black shoe polish. He retrieved a shotgun from beneath the bed and loaded it with twelve-gage shells and flipped the living room light on.

The air was cool, and sun had gone down by the time he ventured outside. But he wore no jacket. The anxiety inside of him was keeping him warm. With a hand signal, he motioned for Duchess to stay by his side. About twenty-feet back from the yard, he found a good vantage point behind some thick trees where he could view the entire property line. He looked in the direction where Butch would most likely drive his vehicle part way down the access road and go the rest of the way on foot. After tying Duchess to a tree, he petted her before slipping a muzzle on her snout. He had to keep her quiet just in case she got excited when the Viet Cong approached. Talking softly, he reassured her everything would be okay. Sprawled on his belly, he sensed it wouldnt be long. Hed played these jungle games before, could smell trouble brewing. Sweat gathered on his determined face. He felt no fear. The voices calmed him. Two hours later he was still in the same position. Patience. Hell be back, and Ill be waiting. Patience.

Several more hours passed, and then, close to midnight he saw headlights in the distance slowly coming down the access road. The vehicle stopped; the headlights went off. Leave the car. Thats a good strategy. Just like I expected. You figure youre too far away for Duchess to hear. He looked at the twinkling stars, the clarity of the night sky. Its time girl, he whispered. Its time. It wont be much longer now. He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, staying quiet as a mouse.

A while later he heard the crackling of dried leaves under the enemys feet, soft rustling footsteps approaching the cabin that gave Butch away. Wallys hearing was acute. He had been trained for listening and identifying sounds, to differentiate between animals and humans. His eyes had long since adjusted to the darkness. He could now see the shadow of the big man moving slowly, carrying his .45. Come on, Wally whispered. Come on. Thats it. Im waiting. Get a little closer. He didnt want him going up on the porch. The killing had to be done outside. There would be blood. Blood hed have to cover up. No, not the house. Over here! Wally called out.

Butch stopped and looked around. Where are you?

By the trees. The time was right. Wally had him in his sites not more than fifteen feet away, and pulled the trigger. The large man went flying through the air and landed with a resilient thud about twenty feet from the front porch. One shot to the chest was all it had taken. He wont be around to kill anymore of our guys, Wally thought.

He untied Duchess and removed the muzzle. Since he wasnt strong enough to lift the man, he went to plan two. He always kept his truck parked in back of the cabin. There, he grabbed a shovel and rope stored in the small tool shed, threw them in the bed, started the engine and pulled around front. Reality of what he had done still eluded him. Robotically, he got out of the truck and retrieved the dead mans keys from his pants pockets. Then he tied the rope around Butchs ankles and secured the other one to the bumper.

With Duchess in the cab, he drove through the forested area about two hundred yards away, pulling the corpse. At a small gulley, he stopped and went to the back of his truck. Looking at the bloodied face of the man, the man who had killed Virgil, he felt nothing. But then the voices began speaking. They said for his actions he may be awarded a medal for going above and beyond the call of duty. He took one last look at the bloodied man who was barely recognizable. Without a hint of regret, he untied the rope and rolled Butch into the gulley. In just a few minutes he had the body covered with branches and rocks. Wally brushed himself off, took a deep breath and breathed out slowly. He began to relax as his mind slowly drifted back to reality. He was Citizen Wally Cross, not a soldier of war. Things would go back to the way they were. He could now live peacefully, like he had before today.

Back in his truck he headed down the access road. The wind had picked up and lightning streaked the sky. It didnt take long to spot Butchs SUV. Pulling up next to it, he got out, unlocked the SUV, slid into the drivers seat and drove to the side of Falcon Crest. Calm and collected, he put it in neutral. Then he got out, went to the back and pushed with all of his might. The vehicle inched forward. A little further, he thought and Im home free. Like he was drawing power from an unknown source, he shoved with everything in him and stood back watching as the vehicle finally went over the edge.

With his work done he walked to his truck, started the engine and proceeded back to the cabin. The wind started screaming and blowing violently. Lightning lit up the sky. By the time he reached the cabin, several dust devils were swirling around the property. He cut the engine and walked towards the porch. After flicking the small flashlight on that hed taken from his truck, he shined it around the death scene. An approving smile covered his face. The bloodied leaves where Butch had met his maker were gone, removed and carried off by the strong current to some unknown place across the countryside. Fresh ones now inhabited the death scene. Satisfied there was no evidence of a crime being committed there, he went inside the cabin and crawled into bed.