Chapter 11 - The Fall into the Deep
The deafening report of the .38 shattered the frozen silence of the cove.
The heavy lead bullet struck Caleb high in his left shoulder, spinning him violently backward against the rotting wooden railing of the dock. The rotted pine timbers groaned, splintered, and gave way under his weight with a sickening crack.
Caleb tumbled backward into the dark, freezing waters of Blackwood Lake, hitting the icy surface with a massive splash.
He surfaced instantly, gasping for air, thrashing wildly among the floating chunks of jagged gray ice. "Nora! Nora, help me! The current—it's pulling me under!"
Nora didn't look at him. She dropped the revolver onto the dock, fell to her knees, and scooped Abby into her arms, dragging her daughter away from the shattered railing onto the solid planks of the ramp.
Abby buried her face in Nora’s neck, weeping hysterically, her small body shivering violently from the cold wind and sheer adrenaline. "Mommy! Mommy, he hurt my neck! He said he was going to take me away!"
"You're safe, baby," Nora sobbed, rocking the girl back and forth, wrapping her coat around Abby’s trembling frame. "I've got you. Nobody is ever taking you again. I promise you."
Jax walked out onto the dock, his heavy rifle held casually at his waist. He walked to the broken railing and looked down into the swirling, slate-gray water.
Ten yards out from the dock, Caleb was being pulled toward the intake culvert that fed the mountain spillway. His single eye was wide with primal terror, his fingers clawing uselessly at the slippery edges of a floating ice shelf that broke apart under his weight.
"Jax!" Caleb screamed, his voice bubbling with freezing water. "Throw me a rope! For the club, Jax! Throw me a damn rope!"
Jax looked down at the drowning man. His face was entirely devoid of hatred, anger, or triumph. It was the face of a judge who had already signed the execution order three months ago.
"The club buried you in December, Caleb," Jax said quietly, his voice carrying over the rushing water. "You're just catching up to your funeral."
Caleb let out one final, strangled curse before the dark, powerful current of the spillway caught his legs, pulling him beneath the solid ice shelf.
The surface of the lake churned with white foam for three seconds, and then went completely, terrifyingly still.
The only sound left in the cove was the distant wail of police sirens echoing off the granite cliffs of the valley.
Sheriff Miller’s cruiser, followed by three state police interceptors, skidded to a halt on the logging road above the beach, their red and blue emergency lights flashing across the snow-covered pines.
May you like
Miller stepped out of the cruiser, his hand resting on his service weapon, taking in the scene: the empty dock, the broken railing, and Nora clutching her child on the gravel shore.
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