Between Two Worlds

Chapter Two - The Omen

The fist pounding against the trailer door was loud and forceful. Tray rolled over and moaned. Holding his head with one hand, he pulled himself to a sitting position with the other, and slid to his feet from his bed. Leaning against the door facing, he swung open the door, "damn it Marks...what the hell are you doing! Its barely daylight!"

Marks stretched out his hand and shoved a cup of hot coffee into his, " Sorry Tray, but a train transporting some prisoners to Montana derailed last night down by Cougars Pass and two of them escaped. They were last seen heading into the Tetons."

"So what has that got to do with me!"

"Come on Tray, you know these mountains...besides...Sheriff Briggs sent me to get you. He wants to see you."

"Briggs...eh! Tray sighed from the depth of his throat and rubbed his forehead. "Lead the way Marks! I'm right behind you...come on Wolf lets go."

He found Briggs overlooking the tangled train and tracks. The embankment of The Swan River, next to the tracks, was yellow from the bodies covered with plastic sheets. Red and black jackets from the emergency crews darted everywhere trying to free those still trapped inside the tangled metal train. Sticking a piece of chewing tobacco on the inside of his cheek, he broke the silence first, "yea Briggs! What do you want!"

Briggs stared at him through his sunglasses, "Whether I like it or not...I need you on this. Drunk or sober...you're the best tracker around, and I want those men found. They killed one of my men!"

"Wait here a minute." He turned around and went back towards his truck. He unloaded Kit and his mule, Bess, from the horse trailer. After checking his saddle, rifle and gun, he returned to where Briggs was standing.

"Where did they go in at?"

"The bottom of the ravine, the dogs lost their scent at the bend."

"Armed?"

"More than likely, a pump rifle and a three-fifty-seven...still unaccounted for."

"Thank you Deputy!"

"Oh, you're welcome sheriff."

Tray rolled his eyes, "That'll be five thousand per man and all expenses paid!"

"Deal—but I want them alive! Understand!"

Tray figured that he'd have the job done in two or three days, four at the most. He equated tracking human runners with tracking scared or wounded wild life. They wouldn't be cautious in covering their tracks. He tipped his hat at Briggs and started down the embankment with Wolf keeping pace.

Briggs watched him until he disappeared into the thick trees.


* * * *



Tray made his way up the other side of the embankment and into the South Meadow. Wolf was running around with his nose to the ground. He stopped and sat; barking for Tray' attention. Tray dismounted and walked Kit and Bess over to where Wolf waited. "Good boy!" He knelt down and felt the footprint impressions, "they're about four hours ahead of us, Wolf." Judging the distance between the prints; they were still at a running speed. Tray shook his head, "they won't able to keep that up much longer and they're headed for west side of Mount Moran. Mount Moran wasn't the highest peak of the Tetons Range, but it was considered the most rugged and most of it was uncharted.

"Come on Wolf, there is a stream up ahead, and we'll stop there for a while." Before he could mount, a glistening in the sun caught his eye, It's a little late in the morning for dew.

With caution he approached the source. He bent a piece of tall grass over closer to him to examine it. "Blood! "They'll be slowing and stopping soon...Wolf...one of them is cut." He looked around and studied his surroundings, but nothing else looked, sounded, smelled or felt out of place. His senses were keen and alert. His upbringing by his father, Black Elk and Lone Wolf had developed and sharpened his skills. As a boy, he had spent weeks up here in the mountains with his father, grandfather and uncle learning to hunt and track along with the sights, sounds and smells of the forest.

Tray stopped at the edge of the stream for water and give the animals a brief rest. He knelt at the edge of the stream and noticed four knee prints just beneath the water's edge. "I guess were not the only ones who got thirsty, Wolf." He led the animals across the stream towards a small clearing shrouded within a group of trees and made camp. Tray figured that were far enough ahead that wouldn't matter if he ran a warm camp. After sharing a can of beans with his dog, he pulled their rap sheets from his pocket and read them again. He smiled and shook his head, if these guys are as bright as their names, Smitty and Knotts, it won't be long until they mess up! He was tired and dying for a cup of coffee. Instead of satisfying his need for coffee, he took out his flask, "that sure helps to ward of the night chill." He smiled, as he laid back against his saddle.

The weather had changed, and that bothered him. A month long heat wave suddenly breaking? Bringing dark skies and the signs of rain? Once again, the hoot of the owl and the the death-dealers eyes crossed his mind. With furrowed eyebrows, he rubber his chin, this is not good! He took another drink from his flask. "We'll start again at first light."

Tray followed them to the opening of the two mile long, Beavers Ravine. The surety of water was ahead as well as the completion of his job. Three hours beyond the Ravine's end was a small ridge that sloped down into a meadow, and a portion of the White Tail Deer River trickled through it. He figured that they would be sure to hold up there for a day or two because of its seclusion and the camouflage provided by the surrounding trees. The chance of coming into contact with other people was next to none because not many people were aware of the meadow's existence. He could tell, by their recent tracks, that the convicts were beginning to feel more secure in their belief that they were not being followed—they were beginning to make mistakes.


* * * *



Night had fallen by the time the two convicts reached the top of the ridge. "Can see anything at all, Al?" Al looked side to side and up towards the sky.

"Nah, there ain't even a moon to help!" He took a second look behind him, "lets stay here tonight until daybreak when we can see something...besides there ain't nobody following us."

"Over there...look!" Al looked in the direction that Frank was pointing and saw what appeared to be the headlights of a vehicle piercing the darkness. As it came into full view, he saw that it was a truck towing a horse trailer.

"Well now lookie here! I think I have just found us a way out!"

"What...what cha mean?"

"It's a truck...stupid! Beats walkin' any day, don't ya think? We'll let em stop and get set up, and come mornin' we'll pay em a visit, before they even know what happened!" Al scratched his head while grinning. We'll take turns watchin' tonight! I take the first watch."

"I'm hungry, ya think they got some food down there?"

"Yea they're campers...stupid...they'll have food...alright! Don't worry, we'll get something to eat while we're at! Now, get some sleep...damn it!"

Frank laid down and relaxed. He knew better than to cross Al, he was already complaining about him tagging along. He just hoped that he lived long enough to reach a town where they could split up. Al talked about that all the time. "It sure feels good to think that this nightmare will soon be over...huh Al!"

"Sure...kid...now get some sleep and I'll wake you in a couple hours." Al shook his head in disgust, I didn't sign on to this job to end up babysitting!"


* * * *



Dax pulled the truck to a stop close to the creek. She grabbed her pistol from the seat and pushed it under it.

"Come on Holly, you're going to love this place! Wait until morning—it is so beautiful and peaceful." They got out and walked to the front of the truck, "tell you what, you get out what we need for the night, I'll start a fire and get dinner started...Okay?" Holly didn't reply and what she was told.

Dax knelt to start the fire. Jerking her head up; she listened. She thought she heard an unusual sound, but wasn't sure as to what it was. She was overcome by an uneasy feeling. She tried to scan their surroundings through the darkness, but she couldn't see beyond the scope of the fire. She hurried and prepared the rabbit for cooking and put a pot of beans next to the fire. She knew that if told Holly, it would frighten her, and she would want to leave—now! Dax couldn't let that happen.

"Holly...tomorrow... we'll ride up the ridge and look around. About three hours beyond the top, is a place called Beaver's Ravine that I want you to see...okay?"

"Dax, we've been riding around these mountains everyday for weeks and we haven't found anything," complained Holly as she turned the rabbit roasting over the fire. "Don't you think its time to admit that there is nothing to this story?"

"No, I really think that there is something to it. You read the local newspaper clippings that I found, and Jack agreed! People have disappearing out of here over a hundred years!"

Holly let out an exasperated sigh, "Jack, our boss, would agree with anything you said; even if you told him the moon was purple, you know that."

Dax laughed and blushed. "Yea, I know, but I still think that there is something up here!"

"Well, I think that the most likely explanation is these people, for reason or another, got fed up and decided to move on."

" We'll give a couple of more weeks and remember that we're just a couple of anthropology students on a research project and not reporters...Okay?

Holly nodded her head, "Okay...I guess!"

Dax stared at the fire as she sipped her coffee. She shrugged her shoulders and sighed, Holly and Jack... Neither one of them knew of her true motive for wanting this assignment and do the research. Growing up in Jackson Hole, she had heard the rumors all her life. She tried to prove her theory in college, but it was never accepted as fact. She decided to take profession that would hand her the opportunity to uncover the facts that she knew existed and keep exactly what she was looking for to herself. Dax was a unique type of person, not a follower. She liked the freedom of making her own decisions having her own opinion. Her co-worker, Holly, was quite the opposite, which made her extremely manipulable. She looked over at Holly just as she put down her plate.

Dakota was a tall and lean young girl, not beautiful but possessed soft, sensuous features and the soft curves of a woman. Her smile was magnetic. Her eyes were large and chocolate-brown in depth. Her thick wavy auburn hair, she would tuck up under her cowboy hat but preferred to wear it loose and wild. She lived in New York, yet she dressed as a cowgirl in blue jeans, tank tops and boots.


"Well, was it Good?"

Holly shook her head up and down,"Oh yea! Say, where did you learn to hunt anyway?"

Dakota smiled as she thought of her parents, "My dad took me and my brothers hunting all the time, when we lived here. That was when he went through his 'live off the land phase.' That was before he became the Executive CEO of JPMorgan Chase and moved us all to New York. Then it was waitresses, maids and supermarkets all the way."

"Not to change the subject but...did you see that big guy sitting at the bar last night?"

Dax smiled as she rubbed her chin between her fingers, "If you mean the one dressed in buckskin...Ummm! I sure did! I sure would like to tangle with him anytime...anytime at all!"

"Dax!!"

"Well you asked!"

They giggled and settled down next to the fire. Dax couldn't relax! Not enough to sleep, anyway. She couldn't shake that uneasy feeling...the feeling that they were being watched. She got up and ambled towards the truck. Letting the driver's door partially shield her; she acted as though she forgot something. With caution, she retrieved her gun from under the seat, shoved it in the back of her jeans, and put on her thigh-length jacket.


* * * *



Holly stood and stretched her arms as she yawned. Dax was hovering over the campfire cooking breakfast, " Good morning! How did ya'll sleep? Ya'll hungry? I got some biscuits from home and sausage gravy and coffee."

"I'm in!" laughed Holly and sat down at the card table next to Dax. Engrossed in planning their day's itinerary and looking over their maps, they didn't hear the strangers approach them from behind.

"Good morning, ladies. Fine morning aint it."

The voice startled Holly causing her to jump; Dax immediately stood and turned around. Two men, an older man and a younger man, stood in front of her. The older man was holding a rifle and a three-fifty-seven stuck in his pants. Those are the two escaped convicts! She noticed the numbers on the upper left corner of their shirts, but made no reference to it. She was hoping that Holly was too naive to understand what that meant and would keep her mouth shut.

In a low soft voice Dax answered, "Good morning gentlemen, how can we help you?"

"Yes ma'am, I hope that you can. Several days ago, we became separated from our group and got lost trying to find them again. We smelled your fine coffee and cooking and followed its fragrance until we found your camp. Can you help us with directions and maybe a cup of your coffee?"

"Yes, of course. Holly would you go and check the horses? Make sure they have fresh food and water. They need to be tended to before we leave to do our work....please gentlemen, have a seat." Holly left to tend the animals and Dax turned to get them their coffee and breakfast.

"I hope you like biscuits and gravy, that's all I have this morning."

"Yes ma'am that will be just fine." She set their plates on the table in front of them and took two steps back. She didn't want to be with reach, and she certainly want them close to Holly. A deep breath helped her to maintain a calm composure.

There was no conversation for thirty minutes. The younger one was finishing up his third helping, and the older man on kept his eye on both her and Holly. Holly came to her and began to speak. Dax grabbed her by the arm as she pulled her over to her sleeping bag by the fire.

In a harsh tone, she whispered, "Holly sit down, don't move, and for God's sake... don't say a word... at all!"

"But...?"

"Just do it...now!" Dax looked her in the eyes. Her look was piercing and stern. Holly sat down, and Dax returned to where the men were sitting and stood.

The older man shifted his weight and positioned the rifle on the table. The barrel was pointed straight at Dax. His smile disappeared, "Nice set of wheels you got there Missy. Oh and the directions I asked about? You can start by handing me the keys. You wouldn't want to do anything stupid that would make me have to kill you, your friend, and your horses, now would ya!"

Stunned, she stood there with her mouth but said nothing as Holly watched in horror.

"Hand them over, bitch!" He followed his demand by doubling up his right hand. The impact of his fist to the side of her face sent her back and to the ground hard. Without a sound she picked herself up. With dark narrow eyes, she stared at him. She hesitated, then reached into her pocket, withdrew the keys, and tossed them on the table. "Oh...and before I forget, we're going to stick around for a couple of days. Now...go join your friend!"
Dax ambled over towards Holly and sat and stared straight ahead. We'll be lucky if his behavior doesn't escalate.


* * * *



Tray reached the bottom of the ridge by mid-day and bellied his way up to the top. Looking through his binoculars, he saw the two men walking back and forth. Each holding a gun. There was something or someone on the other side of them, but he couldn't quite make it out.

"Howdy boys." he whispered. Wolf gave a soft yelp. He continued to scan the entire campsite. Looking towards to river, he noticed the truck and its trailer. What the two men appeared to guarding came into view. Two females.

"This not good Wolf,,,and it changes the game and our options." He adjusted his binoculars to get a closer look at the two females.

"Dax! Damn it!...What the hell is she doing up here!" He watched as the older man approached Dax and tried to unbutton her blouse. She tried to fight him off, but he starting punching her until he subdued her. After no longer could fight him, he reached down, ripped her blouse open, and begin to fondle her. Tray felt a surge of worry and anger rush through his body. He motioned for Wolf to follow him back down. The way he figured, he had two choices: one, go in shooting or two, try to arrest them first then start shooting. Either way it didn't look like they would come peacefully. AH HELL He checked both his gun and rifle and swung himself into the saddle and whistled to Wolf. Pointing at the dog, he pointed straight up and move his hand in a circular motion. Wolf made another soft yelp and took off away from him. Tray rode back to the top of the ridge and started down the slope towards the camp.

Kit was in full gallop. Tray clamped his knees onto her shoulders and dropped her reigns. Raising his rifle, he fired. Striking the young man in the knee. He fell to the ground screaming with pain. The older man spun around and fired back, striking Tray in the shoulder. Causing him to almost loose his balance, but he was able to stay with Kit. Tray whistled loud and clear. From out of nowhere, Wolf came charging in from the other side of the camp and attacked the older man causing him to drop his gun. With tears still streaming down her face, Dax pulled her gun out her jeans and fired. The older man lay dead on the ground in front of her. Still holding the gun she broke into uncontrollable sobs.

Tray pulled Kit to a stop and ran over to Dax, "It's okay now...it's over...let me have the gun. Dax loosened her grip on the gun allowing Tray to slip it from her hand. Turning, she buried her face in his chest and sobbed. Tray stood there with his arms slightly out from his sides. He had dreamed of being close to her but not like this. With a gentle touch, he smiled, and wrapped his arms around her. He held her until she was able to gain her composer.

Tray buried the prisoner and handcuffed the other to the trailer hitch between the truck and the trailer. He built a fire and settled the girls in front of it.

"I'll fix us something to eat then you girls need to get some sleep. Tomorrow I need to get you back to town."

Tray watched Dax as she slept. She is so beautiful, maybe in the near future we can meet again. He wounder what it would feel like to kiss her soft lips and hold her tight.

The three of them built a fire and sat around and talked about the day. Two or three hours had past when Holly got up and went to bed.

No verbal conversation was necessary between Dax and Tray. Next to the fire, they laid in each others arms all night. Tray gently rubbed her cheek and lifted her chin. Gently he pressed his lips against her soft lips.