6 The Wedding Read Online Free PDF Page A

fuse at
the bottom so that it was easily accessible.
    “Ready?” he asked.
    “Ready,” Horace confirmed.
    Horace flipped open his lighter with his thumb and spun the
flint wheel. The lighter ignited. He protected the gentle flame from the wind
using his free hand and touched it to the tip of the fuse. The fuse sparked to
life and began to sizzle toward the rocket’s engine. Sasha and Horace stepped
back as far as the tiny boat would allow.
    There was a sputter before the engine ignited and the full
force of the burning propellant was released. Flames and smoke shot across the
floor of the boat to lick at the dancing feet of the rocket engineers. The
rocket tried to take off but one of the fins was held in place by a broken
strut on the launch gantry. Eventually the flaming beast tore itself free of
its constraints and flew skyward.
    “There she goes,” Horace announced with a smile.
    Sasha was too busy extinguishing the smoldering cuffs of his
jeans to comment.
    The rocket continued high into the sky and then began to arc
toward shore. It was only then that the launch crew, who was left standing in
the boat, noticed that the strong breeze had shifted toward the town of
McIntyre’s Gulch not half a kilometer away. The slow steady arc of smoke from
their explosive projectile continued to soar in the direction of town and then
banked down into a steep descent.
    “Oh no,” Sasha said, finally free to look up. “Not again.
God is malevolent.”
    The two men watched in horror as the rocket crashed into the
roof of the Lonesome Moose and exploded. Pieces of shingle and broken boards
flew in all directions. The only upside was that the fuel had spent itself and there
appeared to be no fire.
    “Crap,” Horace declared.
    “Lots of crap,” Sasha agreed.
    Horace stood with his arms crossed, shivering against the
cold. It was then that he noticed that his feet were particularly cold. Looking
down, he saw gentle waves of water lapping against his boots. Then he noticed
that the rocket had burned a fair-size hole in the bottom of their fiberglass
craft.
    “Quick, Sasha, we’re sinking!” Horace noted.
    Sasha looked down to see the water flowing freely into their
boat. Frantically, he slotted the oars into their locks and started rowing for
shore. The boat sank only twenty meters from the beach, requiring the two men
to swim the last leg.
    No one at the Lonesome Moose was happy to see the two wet
and freezing aerospace engineers as they entered the debris-strewn tavern to
warm themselves before the fire.
    “You’re just lucky my daughter isn’t here, eh,” Big John
said. “And you can start fixing the roof after breakfast.”
    “Sure,” Horace agreed quickly.
    Big John started for the kitchen and then added, “And you
owe me a boat.”

 
    *   *   *

 
    The tripwire having been tripped, the trap sprang out of the
dirt not three meters from where the Mountie was standing. Chuck’s breath
caught in his throat in the expectation of being pierced through the throat by
an arrow or knife, sent twirling through the air at the head of a massive
blast, or at the very least having his leg bitten off by a bear trap. Instead,
a metal plate launched itself upright out of the ground to stand before Chuck’s
face. On it, someone had attached a crudely painted sign.

 
    Bang!
    You
    Are
    Dead

 
    Chuck felt his body begin to shake. He could no longer
control his muscles. He could no longer remain standing. He sat down hard in
the middle of the road, dropping his rifle in the dirt. Anatoli rushed to his
side. Chuck was just thankful that when he’d heard the sound of the trap being
sprung his sphincter had slammed shut instead of wide open. His guts roiled in
his belly all the same.
    “Mountie, you are alright,” Anatoli said.
    Chuck wasn’t sure whether his partner was expressing an
observation, perhaps a confidence builder, or asking a question. He opted to
interpret it as a question.
    “I’m fine. I just need to