by Hunt, Jack
“He’s in here!”
Colby cracked him on the jaw, knocking him off. He returned fire through the door as it opened. For but a split second, he saw her. Delores.
Then the door slammed shut.
“I thought you said we were alone,” Colby said.
Three more rounds erupted, and glass went all over them.
“Tell her to stop shooting.”
“Can’t do that.”
Colby jammed the gun against his head. “Will this convince you?”
“Delores!” Matthew stared at him, sneering. “Stop shooting.”
“Is he still alive?” she asked.
“Alive and well,” Colby bellowed. He sidled up underneath the window and peered out. She wasn’t alone. There were two men with her. A beaten-up, old truck nearby with a door open. The engine idling. Colby turned and yanked the wire from a lamp and used it to tie Matthew’s hands behind his back.
“Oh, c’mon man! Not again.”
“Is there another way out?”
“A window. That’s it. But you’re screwed. It’s better to work for the devil than dance alone.”
“I don’t work alone,” he said, referring to Kane.
Colby took an oily rag off the counter and jammed it in his fat mouth. He dragged him over to the main door and turned the knob ever so slowly. He brought him up. “You want to dance with the devil? Get ready to meet him. This is for what you did to those women.” Colby removed his jacket, put it around Matthew’s shoulders, and zipped it up. He kicked the door wide and shoved him out. Those beyond must have thought Colby was trying to make a break for it. They opened fire, riddling Matthew with multiple rounds before realizing their mistake. His body hit the ground and flapped around before he stopped moving. The door slammed closed.
Outside Delores screamed then cursed.
Colby didn’t waste a second. He used the shock to his advantage and brought his rifle up the window, and opened fire immediately, taking out the one guy who was still looking at Matthew. The other one ran for cover. Not Delores. That old-timer was out of her mind. She gritted her teeth and looked his way as if she had nothing to lose. “You mother—”
She unloaded every round in a revolver, peppering the office walls until Colby heard the gun click. He dashed into the rear of the office, scrambling to get out the back window. His body hit the ground, and Colby rolled down a grassy embankment. Staying low, he worked his way around until he was at the corner.
He saw them. Staring. Waiting.
They must have thought he was still in there as Delores stood there bellowing, “I’ll kill you and feed you to my dogs.” She charged over to where the dogs were and unleashed them. “Get him, boys.”
Without hesitation, she walked up to the office door and opened it, and the dogs burst inside. She slammed the door and waited, a look of glee.
It didn’t last.
Colby darted at a crouch toward their truck. The driver’s door was still open, and the vehicle was idling. He got in, jammed the gearstick into drive, and crushed the pedal. The vehicle tore forward. Delores looked his way for but a second before he plowed into her, knocking her several feet back.
Colby wrenched the steering wheel around into an aisle of steel to see the last guy making a run for it. He fired a few rounds that cracked the windshield, but it was useless. Fear overtook him. Colby gunned the engine and took off after him. He had nowhere to go. He made it about twenty yards before he was rear-ended. His body soared through the air, landing hard.
Unlike Delores, he was still alive.
Colby got out and walked over to him, gun at the ready as he crawled on his belly, trying to go for his rifle. He managed to get his grubby hands on it before Colby placed his boot on his fingers, crushing them.
He winced in pain as he looked up.
“Where did Alicia go?”
“She headed for the town. Gustine. We think she made it to the gun store.”
“The gun store?”
“It’s called the Outpost. We’ve been trying to get in there for a while but haven’t managed so far. Please, man. I don’t even like working for this guy.”
“Then why are you?”
“Because…”
He could tell he was reaching. Lying. Trying to come up with any reason to excuse his behavior and survive, but it couldn’t be excused. It wouldn’t be.
“Wrong answer.” Colby shot him square between the eyes.
He looked into the sky and took a deep breath before turning back to the truck and getting in. There wasn’t much gas left, a quarter of a tank. He’d seen a 5-gallon canister in the office but that’s where the dogs were. He reversed back and glanced at Delores lying motionless. Every person would pick a different route in the apocalypse. He’d met all kinds so far. The wicked. The good. And now the ugly. It was insane. Some had nothing but would give everything, and those who would side with evil for but a few scraps from the table. Colby parked the truck close to the door. He got out and opened the office door. He let out a whistle. “Fire. Brimstone!”
He heard nails tapping the floor as they came barreling out. He was already in the vehicle. He waited until they were over by Delores, sniffing her body, before climbing out and collecting the can. Within seconds he was back in the truck. He did a U-turn and headed for the exit. He glanced in the rear mirror for but a second to see the dogs feasting on their owner. It was a savage new world and even the animals knew it.
Colby returned to where he’d left the horse, untied it, and slapped it on the ass. “Go. Go on. You’re free to go!” The horse took off galloping across the field, feeling freedom probably for the first time. He opened the canister and poured the gas into the tank. Once done, he screwed the top back on and tossed it in the back of the truck. He glanced across the field to the wreckers’ yard before getting in and reversing out, his mind turning to Alicia.
He was glad she’d escaped.
He only hoped she was still alive and he could reach her before she left town.
NINETEEN
Jessie
Humboldt County
Jessie dabbed Miriam’s face with a warm cloth. She still hadn’t woken up. His mother had given them all strict orders not to go anywhere near the Stricklands until she returned. Zeke leaned against the doorway as Jessie twisted the wet rag and gazed at Miriam’s wounds. Seeing her beaten up so badly enraged him. Even though he’d told his brothers that the killing needed to end, he could see that it was a fantasy to think that way. “They’re worse than animals. Look at her. I say we go down there and deal with the matter,” Jessie said.
“You heard what mother said,” Zeke replied.
“Yeah, and I also heard she was the one responsible for Ryland’s death. C’mon, can’t you see the way she’s manipulated this family?”
Zeke shrugged. “She thinks we can handle this with diplomacy.”
Jessie laughed. “Diplomacy. She does, does she?” He shook his head. “The only thing they understand is the gun, Zeke. I know that now more than ever.”
“Father didn’t think so.”
“What did he know? He was from the old school. You know, I thought Luke was an asshole, but at least he got it. He understood. Words only get you so far. Sometimes you have to show people the way.”
“Damn right,” Lincoln added, walking into the room and sitting on the other side of the bed. He picked up Miriam’s limp hand. “What I would have given to be there when they started. I would have killed them all.”
Dylan appeared next to Zeke. “Listen to you. She hasn’t even woken up and told us who did it, and you want to charge down there and handle this matter. We don’t even know who was responsible.”
“Of course we do. Don’t be so gullible. When will you wake up?” Jessie said, rising from his seat. “I say we hit them where it hurts. Their livelihood. Their crops. Everything.”
“We won’t get even a mile near it,” Zeke added.
“Yes, we will. I’ve been eyeing it sinc
e I got out. I was looking for Luke. Payback. Since this shitstorm has kicked off, they haven’t been protecting it.”
Zeke chuckled. “If you want to steal crops, buddy, it’s the wrong season.”
“I don’t want to do that. I want to make it so they can’t grow any. Destroy their farms, destroy their store.”
Dylan put his head in his hands. “Here we go again.”
“Here we go again with what?”
“Jessie. The reason Miriam is in that bed is because of what you did and now you want to go and make things worse?”
“You want to blame me?”
Dylan stepped forward. “Oh I’m sorry, let me correct that… what you and Alby did.”
Jessie scoffed. “I go inside for three years and come out and all of you have lost your balls. Had I not intervened they would have killed Alby. We would then be burying another family member.”
“Might as well have, he’s now inside the pen,” Dylan said.
“What?”
“He was arrested. They took him in last night. Didn’t she tell you?”
He balked. “No.”
Dylan looked over at the others. “Mother handed him over.”
Jessie took a few steps forward. “She did what?” His jaw dropped. “No.”
“It’s true, Jess,” Lincoln added. “She did it to protect us. To protect you.”
“To protect me? What the hell do you think he’s going to say when they drag him into an interview room? That he worked alone?”
“Yes. That’s what he’ll say,” their mother said, appearing at the door. She’d returned. “And yes, he has been arrested.”
His brothers looked at her, their heads slightly bowed.
“Why would you do that?” Jessie asked.
She prowled into the room like no one could touch her, like she was the lioness of a pride. She picked up the wet cloth and dabbed Miriam’s head, ignoring Jessie but answering the question. “Lincoln just told you. And I told you earlier. I will not let anyone hurt this family.”
“Really? And so Miriam was excluded from that, was she?”
She spoke through gritted teeth. “Mind your mouth.”
Jessie laughed. He walked over to the window and looked out. “You are so predictable, Mother. Well it’s true, right? You sent her alone down to Hazel’s, knowing full well she’d have to ride by the Stricklands’. Then we have someone accusing you of having killed Ryland. If I wasn’t mistaken, I would think you want to see this family crumble.”
As quick as a flash she shot across the room, hand raised, ready to slap him.
He didn’t flinch. Not one bit.
“Go on. Do it. It never stopped you before. What’s holding you back? Huh? Admit it, you are scared that we might walk out on you. It burns you, doesn’t it? That not everyone is under your spell anymore.” She shook a crooked finger in his face. She clenched a fist and then released it, running a hand over his face. He slapped it out of the way, refusing to play her mind games. “Hate. Love. You move so quickly back and forth between the two, you give me whiplash,” Jessie said.
“Listen to me. Alby willingly let himself go.”
Jessie snorted. “Yeah. Right. And why would he do that?”
“Because he knows we won’t let him stay there.” She turned and walked back to the side of the bed.
“Okay, so let me guess, you want us to break him out. Is that right?”
“No. There’s no need. That correctional facility won’t stay a jail for long.”
“And why is that?”
“Jessie, Jessie. This is why I call the shots.”
When hate and love didn’t work, she reverted to being condescending. Anything to maximize herself and minimize others. It was ego. Jealousy. A feeble attempt at maintaining control.
“Cut the shit and tell us,” he said.
She took out a pack of smokes, and lit one, and crossed her legs, her eyes roaming the room. “I keep telling you. This event isn’t going to be over in a week, or a month, or even a year. This situation we are facing will get worse. People will die from suicide. Unable to deal with the future. Cops will quit. There will be fewer people to man the jail. Food will become scarce and the people will begin to lose their faith in this county’s leadership. And when they do, the real hell will begin.”
“And what do you suppose we do in the meantime?”
“Nothing. Go about your day. Hunt. Fish. Help your brothers and sisters around the property. Ensure this place is protected.”
“You think the Stricklands are coming?”
“No. I made sure of that. That’s why Alby went in. We needed something substantial. A get out of jail free card.” She smiled. “But others might come.”
Jessie stared.
“You think you’re really smart, don’t you?”
“I don’t see you coming up with anything, Jessie.”
“I was thinking of hitting them where it hurts. The farms.”
“Absurd,” she shot back, laughing. That was always the way she did it. If she couldn’t get her way she belittled them. Made them feel less than. Stupid even. “That will break the agreement I made with them. I can’t have you do that.”
Jessie crossed the room and pointed at Miriam. “Look at her. Look at her! Look what they did. You think that’s okay? That it will make her strong. Is that it? Is that how you’ve justified it in your twisted little mind?”
“No one touching my kids is okay. Just because I agreed with the Stricklands to leave them be so we can live in peace, that doesn’t mean I don’t plan to make their life a living hell.” She got up. “But destroying their farm is not the way. Destroying their supplies is.”
“Their supplies?”
She tutted, making him feel stupid. She waved a hand and told them all to follow her into the kitchen. They watched her take out a large map of Eureka and spread it out on the table. She took some small soup cans and set them in the corners. “Think about Eureka. Dan Wilder has made arrangements to have all the supplies from grocery stores in the county placed in one area under lock and key at the Bayshore Mall. Over here is the courthouse, the jail, the sheriff’s office, and the Eureka Police Department.”
“You want us to steal the supplies?” he asked.
“No, silly. I want you boys to burn the whole place down.”
He gave her a look of disbelief.
“Burn it down? And why the hell would we do that?”
“You want revenge, do you not? You want Alby out of prison? You need to point the cops in the right direction. You need to make things desperate. Harder for the people in charge. Harder for the locals to trust them. Right now, they have hope.” She turned and took a lit candle off the counter and brought up her two fingers to the flame. “We’re going to extinguish that hope.”
They looked at her in astonishment as she got this wicked grin on her face.
She squeezed the wick, and the flame went out.
TWENTY
Dan Wilder
Humboldt County
Receiving a call to deal with a suicide victim was never easy. It was even harder when he found out it was Mayor Peterson. He’d been in earlier that week, wanting to talk to him, but he’d been buried under a mountain of work, wrestling with the weight of an entire community. They all had. Hours of meetings discussing:
Protection.
Decisions.
Strategies.
Militia.
OES planning.
The damn Stricklands and Rikers.
There was no end to the madness.
He sighed. Standing in the home, looking up at the body hanging from the rafters. A wave of tiredness hit him. They weren’t even two weeks into the event, and he’d given up hope. What did that say about what lay ahead? How many more would they find? How many more had already taken their lives or resorted to taking the lives of others? Dan steadied himself against the banister. He’d been lucky to get five hours’ sleep a night. Johnson placed a hand on his shoulder
. “Sheriff, why don’t you go home? Let me handle this.”
“No, I should stay.” He wasn’t one to back down from hard work but he’d been putting in far more hours than he should. It was catching up. He felt under the weather. Coughing. Sneezing. Those around him were beginning to steer clear of him.
“I insist. We’ve got this. Put your head down. Get some good rest and join us tomorrow.”
“I don’t know. I really should—”
“Go home,” Johnson said in a demanding tone. “If you keep up this pace, you’ll be no good to anyone. And then I won’t be able to go home.”
It was true.
He chuckled but then felt guilty in the presence of death.
The only positive thing that came out of finding his body was that he knew Peterson was single and had no children.
“Johnson, be sure to check the house. There was no suicide note. I would hate to think that this is…”
“I know,” he replied. “We’ll treat it like any other death.”
He patted him on the back. “Thanks. Look, I appreciate everything you’ve done so far. I couldn’t have done it without you.”
“But you would have tried.” He smiled and walked off to speak with several officers.
As Dan exited the home in Greenside Park, he breathed in the afternoon air. He didn’t like leaving them in the lurch, especially at this time, but with many of the locals now helping out, maybe he could step away, cut back his hours, hand over the reins to Johnson more often. Perhaps this event wouldn’t get as bad as he thought if they continued to help each other.
He got back on the ATV and peeled out, heading south toward his neighborhood. There were ten major neighborhoods in the city. Eureka was the largest community in Humboldt County, and he couldn’t help but feel encouraged by the efforts of the people. Crime was up, but they knew that would happen. Home invasions were down. Petty theft was still happening. But maybe that’s where the militia could come in handy. More boots on the ground. More eyes. Tougher sentences.