Trumps of doom

I withdrew them from my pocket and held them toward him. He barely glanced at them there in the dim light, but he nodded again.

«Those cards,» he said. Then: «You still liked her, didn't you?»

«Yes, I guess I did.»

«Oh, hell,» he sighed. «All right. There are some things I'm going to have to tell you, old buddy. Not all of them nice. Give me just a minute to sort it all out. You've just given me one big problem - or I've given it to myself, because I've just decided something.»

He kicked a patch of gravel and the stones rattled down the hillside.

«Okay,» he said. «First, give me those cards.»

«Why?»

«I'm going to tear them into confetti.»

«The hell you are. Why?»

«They're dangerous.»

«I already know that. I'll hang onto them.»

«You don't understand.»

«So explain.»

«It's not that easy. I have to decide what to tell you and what not to.»

«Why not just tell me everything?»

«I can't. Believe me -»

I hit the ground as soon as I heard the first shot, which ricocheted off a boulder to our right. Luke didn't. He began running in a zigzag pattern toward a cluster of trees off to our left, from which two more shots were fired. He had something in his hand and he raised it.

Luke fired three times. Our assailant got off one more round. After Luke's second shot I heard someone gasp. I was on my feet by then and running toward him, a rock in my hand. After his third shot I heard a body fall.

I reached him just as he was turning the body over, in time to see what seemed a faint cloud of blue or gray mist emerge from the man's mouth past his chipped tooth and drift away.

«What the hell was that?» Luke asked as it blew away.

«You saw it, too? I don't know.»

He looked down at the limp form with the dark spot growing larger on its shirtfront, a 38' revolver still clutched in the right hand.

«I didn't know you carried a gun,» I said.

«When you're on the road as much as I am, you go heeled,» he answered. «I pick up a new one in each city I hit and sell it when I leave. Airline security. Guess I won't be selling this one. I never saw this guy, Merle. You?»

I nodded.,

«That's Dan Martinez, the man I was telling you about.»

«Oh, boy,» he said. «Another damn complication. Maybe I should just join a Zen monastery someplace and persuade myself it doesn't matter. I -»

Suddenly, he raised his left fingertips to his forehead. «Oh-oh,» he said then. «Merle, the keys are in the ignition. Get in the car and drive back to the hotel right away. Leave me here. Hurry!»

«What's going on? What -»

He raised his weapon, a snub-nosed automatic, and pointed it at me.

«Now! Shut up and go!» «But -»

He lowered the muzzle and put a bullet into the ground between my feet. Then he aimed it squarely at my abdomen. «Merlin, son of Corwin,» he said through clenched teeth,

«if you don't start running right now you're a dead man!» I followed his advice, raising a shower of gravel and laying some streaks of rubber coming out of the U-turn I spun the wagon through. I roared down the hill and skidded around the curve to my right. I braked for the next one to my left. Then I slowed.

I pulled off to the left, at the foot of a bluff, near some shrubbery. I killed the engine and the lights and put on the parking brake. I opened the door quietly and did not close it fully after I'd slipped out. Sounds carry too well in places like this.

I started back, keeping to the darker, righthand side of the road. It was very quiet. I rounded the first turn and headed for the next one. Something flew from one tree - to another. An owl, I think. I moved more slowly than I wanted to, for the sake of silence, as I neared the second turning.

I made my way around that final corner on all fours, taking advantage of the cover provided by rocks and foliage. I halted then and studied the area we had occupied. Nothing in sight. I advanced slowly, cautiously, ready to freeze, drop, dive, or spring up into a run as the situation required.

Nothing stirred, save branches in the wind. No one in sight.

I rose into a crouch and continued, still more slowly; still hugging the cover.

Not there. He had taken off for somewhere. I moved nearer, halted again and listened for at least a minute. No sounds betrayed any moving presences.

I crossed to the place where Martinez had fallen. The body was gone. I paced about the area but could locate nothing to give me any sort of clue as to what might have occurred following my departure. I could think of no reason for calling out, so I didn't.

I walked back to the car without misadventure, got in and headed for town. I couldn't even speculate as to what the hell was going on.

I left the wagon in the hotel lot, near to the spot where it had been parked earlier. Then I went inside, walked to Luke's room, and knocked on the door. I didn't really expect a response; but it seemed the proper thing to do preparatory to breaking and entering.