Chapter 10

Percy was the last person that I would have thought would try this. I was somewhat gratified that my assessment of the shooter was correct, but Percy Wilcox? Everything I had been told and seen about him contradicted even trying it. Either the power brokers considered him expendable. Or Percy was trying to make points with them.

As I was considering all this, I slipped out of my battle mode and back to normal. I could also feel the adrenaline draining off. Rather than fall into the same trap Percy did, I started setting up a quick camp.

With a small fire started, I recovered Percy’s rifle. It was a pretty nice Winchester 30.06 bolt action. But hadn’t been cared for. When I emptied the magazine, I was surprised to find that the rounds were high-end competition-grade rounds. As expected, the weapon had been fired recently. But I could also see that it had been fired before, but never cleaned. There was old carbon on the bolt, and the barrel looked like it was starting to corrode. One of the problems with match grade shells was the powder used. It burned fast but was pretty corrosive. Most of the time, this wasn’t a problem. Professional shooters took care of their equipment.

Sitting there, trying to figure all of this out, I drifted off to sleep.

Percy’s moaning woke me up. It was just after sunrise. I mentally cursed myself for falling asleep. At the same time, I knew that I needed some sleep, or today was going to be rough. Besides, with Shadow there, I was reasonably safe. When I checked Percy, I could see that he was awake. “Well, Percy, what do you have to say for yourself?”

Percy, red-faced, demanded, “What is the meaning of this, Reynolds? I demand you release me immediately.”

“That wouldn’t be such a great idea, Percy. You see, at the very least you have a broken leg. There’s also the possibility of internal injuries. Not the least of which is spinal damage. If you were to start bouncing around too much, you might end up paralyzed, if not dead.”

Percy’s face went from red to pale white. “Have you called 911, is the ambulance on the way?”

“Are you really that dense, Percy? Even if I had a phone, which I don’t, there’s no cell service this high up. Even if there was, there’s no road for an ambulance.”

“So, you plan on leaving me out here to die?”

“The idea has a certain appeal to it. After all, you haven’t been very friendly lately. Between the threats about my land, the petty stuff about my truck, and now taking potshots at me. But no, I’m not going to leave you out here. It would be difficult to explain your body. What I plan on doing is take you into town, to the doctor. Then I’m going to have a conversation with the Sheriff about you.”

“Do you think that the Sheriff will listen to you? I am a federal employee. It will be your word against mine.”

“Well, that’s the thing, Percy. I’ve been sitting here thinking. One of my thoughts concerned your rifle. I’d be willing to bet that a ballistics test might show something interesting. You see, one of the things about bullets that are jacketed, they don’t deform. Getting a good ballistic test is easy. That, along with your fingerprints, and the bullets that you fired, would be pretty damning.”

“So what? I’ll say you fired those rounds, and then made me handle the rifle.”

“Yeah, you could say that. But then the question is, and believe me. It’s a doozy, why are you up here, Percy? It’s well known that you stick to your office.”

“Reynolds, you know very well that it is part of my duties to patrol the woods. Your question has no merit.”