Siren's Garter: Issue One August 2016 by Miriam F. Martin

to her shoulder. For her protection, of
course.
    “ Why did Biggins take your mother
here?” he asked.
    “ I don’t know,” Elsie said. She
peered at him from her periphery, behind her hair. “I used to go up
this trail as a kid. To get away.”
    “ Your mother know you up
here?”
    “ Probably. No telling what she
knew. Hell, the woman was a spy long before I even knew what that
meant. I’m sure she knows more about my private youth life than I
care to remember.”
    “ Such as?”
    “ What’s with the twenty questions,
mister?” Elsie nudged him with her elbow, a crooked grin gracing
her lips.
    Kevin nudged back, gently but
enough to unbalance her in her wedge sandals. Elsie staggered, arms
flailing and a light-hearted giggle accidentally escaping. Kevin
caught her by the upper arm and righted her.
    She pressed a hand against his
chest, sighed, and then pushed him away.
    “ Come on,” she said. “Mom could be
in trouble.”
    “ You’re right,” said Kevin, hands
held out. “I’m professional now.”
    He checked his pistol in the
holster, and straightened his jacket.
    “ Good.” Elsie turned and headed up
the dirt and wood-chip trail. She was a sight to see, hiking up a
hill in wedges. She didn’t seem to think too much of it.
    Kevin’s patent leather shoes
weren’t much better, but at least he had some support. The shoes
would need a lot of polish afterwards, if they could even be
salvaged.
    The trail wound through a thick
forest of pine and maple trees, the canopy thick enough to block
out the late afternoon sunlight. It was like walking into a church
with high vaulted ceilings, being closed in from the outside yet
still communing with the larger world.
    Kevin tried to walk quiet, but the
trail had far too many twigs that snapped with each step. Elsie was
right about the element of surprise being gone.
    The trail got steeper, winding
criss-cross back and forth up the bluff.
    Voices were up ahead. Kevin tapped
Elsie on the shoulder, finger to his mouth. He pointed ahead, and
she nodded. They stopped to listen, but the voices were too far
away and the words hardly decipherable.
    So they climbed slower now. Kevin
got out his gun, and held it behind his back. Elsie checked to make
sure the 9mm was still in her pocket, but she didn’t
draw.
    The voices got closer. Up ahead,
through the trees and around the bend in the trail, was Gertrude,
Biggins, and Nikolai. A shovel was stuck in the ground near the big
man in the badly tailored suit.
    “ Where is it Gertie?” said Molly
Biggins, a rough and impatient edge to her accent.
    “ Do you expect me to remember this
after five years?” Gertrude’s voice. She sounded tired, but
confident. A little cocky.
    “ Da. I am surprised at your
ineptitude, darling.”
    Kevin grabbed Elsie by the wrist
and led her further up the trail. Closer to trouble. They walked
even slower, almost a crawl, avoiding every stick in the
path.
    “ Look,” Gertrude said loudly.
“There’s a lot of damn trees up here. Give me a minute to find
it.”
    “ I love you, darling,” said
Biggins. “But things will get ugly if you don’t.”
    A revolver clicked. And then a
second. Kevin could see Nikolai and Biggins both holding guns at
Gertrude now.
    Kevin drew his pistol and stepped
in front of Elsie, holding an arm out to keep her back.
    He ran. Blood and adrenaline pumped
through his brain. His thighs burned from the uphill
exertion.
    Gertrude, Biggins, and Nikolai were
standing in a clearing that overlooked sleepy Wenakaga.
    Kevin leaped around the corner, out
of cover.
    “ Kevin!” Elsie yelled. “Watch
out!”
    Too late. Kevin was already
committed to his action. He ran even faster.
    He stopped just at the edge of the
clearing.
    And then he felt the muzzle of a
gun behind his head.
    And the click of a bullet being
loaded in the chamber.
    Shit .

 
    Chapter
Thirteen
     
    The practical thing would’ve been
to take off her wedge sandals before running up the incline to