Victor Black - And the Garden of the Gods

Chapter 6: Alone in the Clearing

Within the first two hundred feet of turning off the 24, Victor witnessed two bright lights: a dim one flashing behind him, and another—blue-white and glary—moving through the trees far ahead, close to the area of the overlook.

He whipped around in the seat, jammed on the break, and turned his headlights off.

"Hopefully they don't turn this direction," he whispered under his breath. His eyes fixed on a small, yet fast car about to pass the entrance to the dirt road below.

For a moment, he thought he recognized it in the light of the moon. The car looked a shade of bright yellow, with bold black stripes and a black roof. A bug? Maybe a Mini? It resembled a car he knew, but he couldn't be sure, being too far away and, like him, going way too fast.

It flew by the dirt road and continued a course toward Woodland Park, the City Above the Clouds.

"Good for me," he said with a chuckle. It wasn't a happy chuckle. He laid on the sarcasm, knowing well any elevation in his mood was fake. Like always, a smile or laugh covered up for what he honestly felt. Lying became too easy.

Taking his eyes off the swiftly moving car, he noticed, for a moment, it seemed to leave the road a little farther up, not necessarily toward town, but he couldn't be sure. It soon vanished under some arching trees, and his attention turned to the light up ahead. It took on more of a blue glow and continued to fade out behind more massive pines and rocky ledges at the ridge.

"If no one gets in my way, I can get this thing done," said Victor, still whispering, though he was lone.

A spool of yellow rope, duct tape, and a red hatchet slid off the seat next to him and onto the passenger side floor, taking Victor's attention off the road for only a moment. He took a deep breath and shifted his focus back to driving, and the lingering glow up ahead.

The Jeep ambled up the windy, gravely mess. As each wheel dipped in and out of one pothole, another tire dropped in for the same dance. Back and forth, and side to side, the Jeep shook its way up the hill.

Victor wished he still lived in Hawaii. The roads were flat, the vegetation lusher, and he preferred the ocean and rainforest to the tall, dried-out mountains. Victor knew if he turned around, and gave up, he'd be back there soon enough—under the direct, indisputable orders of his father, Mr. —he meant, Commander—John Black.

Fields of high grass and open spaces, protected by the rusty fence, gave way to a small opening where the forest began. Large pinon pine trees flocked by rustling aspens amassed along the road and brushed the Jeep. A canopy of golden-leafed branches created a tunnel through which the way stretched. Victor finally reached the top, and the tunnel opened to the clearing where Colorado Springs glowed far below, fanning out from the base of the range to the east.

"Blind luck," he mused, noting the lack of a railing. "Amazing people make it this far."

To the side of the clearing, the road veered to the south over the range. Victor had arrived at his destination, the overlook, which was the real gem.

He stopped the Wrangler, turned the engine off, and sat still. The night finally settled. Nothing stirred except an occasional owl, or what might have been a squirrel rustling about in the leaves—Victor couldn't tell. He absorbed the moment, closed his eyes, and let his tense body relax. However, he still shivered—this was serious business.

After a few minutes, Victor stepped out of the Jeep and surveyed the dark surroundings. He walked toward the ledge at the edge of the open space, shuffling his sneakers in the sticky dust along the way. The moon illuminated the area quite well, enough for him to ensure no one else parked or camped nearby, and everything he needed remained where he had left it a day earlier, less the additional items resting in the Jeep.