Hall Desolation Canyon

Tales of the Rafter
1. Auflage 2015
ISBN: 978-1-4835-5291-0
Verlag: BookBaby
Format: EPUB
Kopierschutz: PC/MAC/eReader/Tablet/DL/kein Kopierschutz

E-Book, Englisch, 350 Seiten

Danger and suspense await! The crowds are gone and it is late in the fall. Dr. Benjamin Rafter should have the river to himself. His life has taken a hard tumble and he is looking for answers within himself. Benny seeks to find solitude and personal introspection as he undertakes a long, solo float trip down one of Americas most remote rivers. Instead of finding peace and self-realization, Benny finds that he is in the wrong place at the wrong time. A vicious group of criminals have been hired by a Russian billionaire to steal a unique rock that contains North America's most valuable petroglyphs. Benny's problems compound when he stumbles upon a group of unlikely Utah lesbians. In spite of the consequences, he falls hard for Ronnie Jones, their beautiful leader. Benny is no hero, yet against his better judgement, he is forced to try and save the priceless rock, the mysterious woman... as well as his own precious skin. Caution... the book contains adult scenarios and moderately graphic sex and violence.

Autoren/Hrsg.

Hall, Ken

Leseproben

……………………… The War with Chicken Neck Benny pulled into shore where he left his little boat. He quickly untied his boat from the bushes and fastened it to the bow of the stolen raft. In just a few seconds he was back in the raft, backstroking hard for the current. He was exhausted. The adrenaline had worn off and suddenly he seemed to feel his age. “Getting too damn old for this kind of thing,” he mumbled aloud to himself. If the men back there were in good shape, they could possibly be hustling through the woods to take another shot at him. But they were drunks. That wasn’t going to happen. Two minutes from now he’d be beyond the cliffs and there was nothing they could do about it. The rafter was feeling pretty good about himself. He had done his part in trying to neutralize the desecration of the canyon. The men at that camp would forever more have to watch their backs when they did nefarious acts of destruction. Well, only maybe. Benny ruminated on his ‘accomplishment’ as it were. Actually, on reflection, he had been too late to make a real difference. The petroglyphs were ruined. There was nothing he could have done to change that. Even if he had shot those assholes dead, it wouldn’t have made a difference. Now the damage was done and the grinder marks would be there for thousands of years. The ruined petroglyphs shattered on the ground. The elation Benny had initially felt was swiftly draining away. In a more perfect world, this kind of thing should never happen. The idea that men like that could just get a permit, float down the river and wreak havoc on anything they pleased was the true offense. There was just no way to stop them. Who could prevent things like that from happening? A few rangers to patrol hundreds of square miles of wilderness was woefully inadequate, besides Benny did not want to see more rangers all over the place. He really didn’t want to see anyone. Maybe the occasional river babe would be alright, but certainly not rangers. They were symbols of rules and regulations which was the very antithesis of the freedom he sought when he was floating rivers. Rangers and cops of any sort were a drag. Their attitudes almost universally sucked. Perhaps they were needed in this low-life infested world, but they were not the answer. For a few minutes Benny fumed. Now, he reasoned it was his moral responsibility to make sure these particular scumbags would go home empty handed, or maybe they wouldn’t go home at all. Maybe he could see to it that they met with an unfortunate wilderness accident. The Rafter’s mind churned. Just ahead, another mile, were more outstanding petroglyphs at Flat Canyon. If they stopped there and tore up the panel at Flat Canyon or messed with the girls, he swore they would never make it to the take-out. Benny remembered back to the time he was trying to restore an old ’59 Corvette convertible. It was his pet project for a while and he had spent a good deal of money on it. When it came time to have the car painted, Benny had taken the car to a shop to have it done, but he had woefully misjudged the guy who ran the shop. He hadn’t done his homework. The shop guy, whom he eventually referred to as to as Chicken Neck, had put the job off for weeks. Over time, Benny came to discover that Chicken Neck was secretly parting out his Corvette and pocketing the money. The car was stripped. It sat on blocks looking forlorn and defiled. Benny made several attempts to get his car, his parts and his money back from the crook, but the man was rarely at his shop. When he was there, Chicken Neck would curse at Benny and threaten him with physical violence. The man told Benny to fuck off or get shot. Benny went to the police. They blew him off. The cops said they needed a court order to even look in on the case. So Benny went to the judge. The judge wanted proof of Benny’s claims, and of course, Benny hadn’t kept good records so the judge blew him off too. After many angry encounters with the cops and the judge, they were all so tired of Benny they threatened to throw him in jail for contempt of court, as if Benny was the bad guy! Even when Chicken Neck threatened to come to Benny’s house and shoot his wife, if he didn’t back off, the police refused to take him seriously. Benny was shocked and terrified. The idea that something terrible could happen to Kate over a silly old car was unacceptable. The fact that the police would only get involved after Chicken Neck had killed his wife was completely beyond Benny’s understanding. It became time for him to take matters into his own hands again. He didn’t need the worthless cops anyway. Benny had a friend they called Deadly Teddly. Deadly Teddly was a bright, intellectual neighbor who often told outrageous stories concerning his life as a tough guy and international cat burglar. His stories were crazy recollections of murder and mayhem. The man would disappear for a week or two then reappear late in the night with a big grin on his face, a new gun and yet another strange tale to tell. Benny had never known how much of these stories were true, but it was clear to that him that Deadly Teddly lived a dangerous life… successfully so far…. and apparently outside the law. Teddly told him that Chicken Neck deserved to die. When Teddly heard Benny’s Corvette sob story he told Benny it would be his pleasure to help him out. This was the kind of thing that he lived for. Benny had only a vague idea of what was about to happen. “You should have come to me first,” Teddly said. “It complicates the matter when you go to the cops. If you want to make things worse, call the cops.” “I thought it was the right thing to do at the time,” Benny said apologetically. Teddly just shook his head. “They don’t work for you… and they have their own agenda.” “Well, they don’t want to hear from me again. They made that pretty clear.” “The cops are often an impediment to justice. Now, when we wax this creep, we need to make certain that incriminating suspicion doesn’t fall on you. Dig?” “What do you mean, ‘wax’?” Benny frowned. “You want to protect Katy?” Teddly asked. “For a day? For a month? What?” “Forever,” Benny said. “Only one way to do that, Benny.” “You mean we’re contemplating murder?” “You make it sound like scumbags aren’t routinely killed every day as a consequence of their amoral proclivities.” “Well, it’s not my job …” “Whose job is it, Benny?” Teddly asked. “You think the ‘proper’ authorities will have a change of heart and watch over Katy? Don’t be preposterous! They’ll be happy to hunt the asshole down after she’s dead… after he’s wrecked your life. What good will that do Katy? How will that make you feel?” “You have a plan?” Benny asked. “Sure. Let’s take care of this right now. I handle stuff like this all the time. You mind if I take my gun?” Benny agreed. He already knew that Chicken Neck had guns; he figured that Teddly would take one regardless. Heck, Teddly had a basement full of guns. He probably never left home without one. “This isn’t going to be something I’ll regret, is it?” Rafter asked. “I could always just take Kate and move to another state.” Benny couldn’t believe this was happening to him. He had lived across the street from Teddly for two years and he had heard dozens of crazy stories about Mexican jail breaks, thievery, and mob-like pay-backs. If even some of it were true, then Deadly Teddly lived a wild, violent life. Benny knew his friend was insane. “This is a remarkable easy undertaking,” Deadly Teddly said with assurance. “We’ll take my car, of course.” This was perhaps an ill-advised undertaking, however, Benny was desperate. When you feel you have to protect someone you love, you sometimes find yourself doing whatever it takes. The two of them drove down to Chicken Neck’s shop to confront the crook. By the time they had arrived, Deadly Teddly had worked himself into a state of barely controlled hostility that radiated from him like a supernatural aura. His intensity seemed even more wacko as he parked the car while he flexed his hands and grinned broadly. Benny had never seen his friend’s eyes vibrate like that before. The man looked like intimidation personified. “Here’s the plan,” Teddly said. “I’m going to lean on this guy pretty heavy, okay? Like bombs over Tokyo. Like the Hulk on steroids. Your job is to pretend to talk me down, understand? Say things like ‘hey man, don’t kill this guy like the last one.’ Lay it on strong, okay? Act like you really mean it. It’s gotta be believable. Think you can do that?” Benny nodded. “Yeah, I can do that. It sounds like a plan.” “But most of all, be prepared for whatever happens. This is the real thing, my friend. Things can go wacko.” Benny nodded again. He thought things were already going wacko. “You ready, pardner? Let’s do it.” Ted sprang from the vehicle without waiting for an answer. “I’m not so sure this is the right approach,”...