Fear Is the Rider by Kenneth Cook Page A

immediately. He could have held the gun in his right hand but that would have slowed him down getting up the shaft. He wanted to get up as fast as he could, and down again if necessary.
    He literally ran up the ladder, leaning back so that the barrel of the gun cleared the rungs. The wind was howling past the top of the shaft making a sound like someone blowing across the top of a bottle. The dust was thicker than ever before and the light of the sun dimmer. Shaw was grateful for it. He would need some seconds to orientate himself at the top of the shaft and the less visible he was the better.
    He paused as his head reached the top of the shaft, then realised there was no point in pausing and grabbed the supports of the windlass and hauled himself into the centre of the mullock heap. He unslung the gun from his shoulder and crouched below the level of the mullock, straining to hear some sound of the Man working. He could. To his left, in the murk of dust, was the sound of earth being scraped, faint above the whistle and rush of the sand-laden wind.
    Shaw laid the gun on the top of the mullock heap and knelt pointing the sights towards the sounds. Eventually the dust would lift and he would see the Man.
    He realised then that if he’d brought Katie with him they could both have slipped off into the dust storm leaving the Man filling the holes and possibly going down to search for them while they were making their way in the darkness to the hotel. He thought of calling down to Katie, but the Man would hear. He thought of going down and getting her, but there was no way of telling how long the Man would spend on the shaft he was working on. Katie might come up into the sweep of the axe. Best wait and try for a kill.
    As soon as he’d come out from the cool earth he had started to sweat but he didn’t notice until he found he was wiping mud from his dust-filled eyes.
    The dust faded and for an instant he saw the Man working at the top of a shaft twenty metres away. He seemed to be scraping at the mullock heap with the axe, using it as a hoe to pull the rubble into the shaft. The dust closed in before Shaw had a chance of a shot but in that instant he realised he wouldn’t have taken the shot even if he had had time. The Man had his back to him. Even though he knew him to be a murderous maniac Shaw knew he couldn’t kill the Man unless he was actually being attacked.
    What then? Challenge him. Make him attack or surrender. And if he surrendered? He could be held at gunpoint until they found the Land Cruiser; or tied up—at least they could take his axe away. There was no need to kill unless the Man attacked. But the Man had forfeited all right to human consideration. His death meant total release for Shaw and Katie. Kill him. Or shoot him. Wound him, that would be the safest way.
    Shaw was still arguing with himself when the dust lifted again and he saw the Man still scraping earth into the shaft with the axe. Just a shape in the dust cloud, but a clean target.
    Shaw levelled the gun, curled his finger around the first trigger and tried to pull it. But he couldn’t. It was impossible for him to shoot without warning. The dust seemed to be clearing further. Soon it would close in again. He had to either fire now or…
    It was almost as though the decision was made by somebody else.
    Shaw shouted, ‘Stay exactly where you are or I’ll shoot you!’
    The Man reacted like a startled dingo.
    One moment he had been bent over the mullock heap scraping at the earth and at the precise moment that Shaw uttered his first word the Man had flung himself across the mullock heap and down the other side. A flying bulk in the dust with the axe still visible in his hand.
    Shaw fired. The shot hit the top of the mullock heap as the Man’s legs disappeared down the other side. The pellets could have caught him in the legs and at that range they should have been riddled.
    Finger on the second trigger, Shaw peered into the gloomy dust. The