A Troubling Turn of Events

by Darrell Maloney

“The difference is, at the compound there would at least be some protection.

  “Here we live right in the middle of a suburban neighborhood. We’re sitting ducks right here.

  “Dad, yesterday I stood on our front porch and looked out at the other houses on the block. The house across the street is abandoned, and so is the house right next to it.

  “So are both houses next door to us.

  “There are only four houses on the whole damn block besides ours that have people living in them.”

  Hannah sensed her daughter had gone a bit too far and tried to shush her.

  “Don’t stop me, Mom. Dad needs to hear this.”

  “Okay, honey. Go ahead. Tell him how you really feel.”

  “Do you know how easy it would be for another Robbie Benton to go nuts and decide he wants to take you out?

  “Do you realize how he could just set up with a rifle in one of the vacant houses? How easy it would be for him to just wait until you come out to go to work in the morning and then to blow you away?

  “And hell, why stop there?

  “If he’s crazy enough to do that, why wouldn’t he be crazy enough to just blow Misty’s brains out while she’s riding her bicycle up and down the street?

  “Or shoot me in the back while I’m sweeping the front steps?

  “Or hell… Mom and Misty and I take a walk every morning after you go to work. Why should he settle for just one of us when he could take out all three?

  “How would you feel if you came home from work one day and found the three of us dead in the front yard, our blood and brains all over the sidewalk?”

  She placed her head against Hannah’s chest and cried.

  She was spent.

  She’d shared her most heartfelt worries. The innermost thoughts she’d held in for a very long time.

  John looked to Misty, who simply nodded her head.

  She agreed with every word Rachel had said.

  John looked to Hannah, who likewise nodded.

  It was unanimous.

  It was time to leave San Antonio behind them.

  John finished the conversation with, “I’ll go to the SAPD communications center tomorrow and use their ham radio to call Scott. We’ll make this happen.”

  -40-

  “I guess I got schooled,” John said to Hannah as they crawled into bed.

  “Don’t you dare hold it against her,” Hannah answered. “She’s been holding back her feelings for a very long time.

  “If you discount those feelings she’ll never again share with you the way she really feels about things. And your relationship will suffer as a result.

  “You have to understand that Rachel’s becoming a woman now. She’s no longer content to being a just a kid and having no control over her own life. She’s tired of not being involved in the key decisions.

  “She wants some input, and feels she deserves to add her opinion and preferences.”

  “I’m not upset with her, honey.

  “It’s just that… well, I’m not used to having my own children make demands.”

  “For God’s sake, John! Didn’t you listen to a word she said?

  “She’s not making demands. She’s not trying to control you. She’s not trying to tell us what to do or where to live.

  “She’s just saying she’s concerned for your safety. For the safety of all of us.

  “And she’s going on record by saying she thinks it would be better for all of us if we moved to Junction.”

  “And I agree with her, honey. I just wanted her to know… all of you to know, that Junction isn’t the nirvana she thinks it is.

  “There are a lot of dangers up there too. Dangers we don’t have to worry about here.

  “Nobody’s ever attacked our home to take what we had, because we’ve always been in same boat as everyone else.

  “In the compound they had things few people have and everybody wants. Working vehicles. Working electronics. Working radios.”

  “I thought they lost everything. I thought they were just like us now, only living in a place which was much more laid back. Country as opposed to city.”

  “They lost most of their things, yes. But the last time I talked to Scott he said they were recovering. Getting some of their things working again. And they had a lot of things that were protected when the second wave of EMPs hit.

  “My point is the compound has changed. They don’t have all the bells and whistles they once did. They might have them again someday, but for now they’re cooking over firewood, just like us.”

  “John, it almost sounds like you’re trying to talk us out of going.”

  “No, honey. I promise I’m not. I just don’t want anybody to move up there with expectations that it’s going to be a paradise.

  “There will still be hardships.

  “And they grow their own crops up there. Two crops a year. They plant their sensitive crops in early spring so they can harvest them in early summer. Then they plant their summer crops, the ones which can take the summer sun, so they can harvest them in the fall.

  They have two planting seasons and two harvesting seasons. And during those seasons it’s all hands on deck. Everybody works in the fields, even the kids.

  “It can be backbreaking work.

  “I just want the girls to know what they’re getting into, so they don’t wind up resenting us for taking them up there.”

  “That’s just it, honey. The girls aren’t afraid of doing without.

  “And they’re certainly not afraid of hard work.

  “They don’t want to go up there so they can watch television again or so they can eat watermelons that someone else grows for them.

  “They want to go to Junction because they love you. And they want to get you out of harm’s way.

  “John, they look around and realize how lucky we are that our family is still intact.

  “They look at the friends they have left and how many family members they’ve lost and they want to get out of here before we lose somebody.

  “Misty told me not long ago, ‘Mom, do you realize that every single one of my friends has lost at least one person from their family? Several of them are in orphanages because they lost both their parents. How come we’re so lucky?’

  “John, they don’t want out of here to make it easy on us. They want out of here because they know it’s just a matter of time before we lose somebody too.”

  John walked to the girls’ bedroom and knocked on the door.

  “It’s Dad. Can I come in?”

  “Yes.”

  Misty was already asleep.

  John sat on the side of Rachel’s bed.

  “Thank you, sweetheart, for sharing your feelings.”

  “Dad, I’m sorry I cursed. And I’m sorry if I caused you any grief.”

  He leaned over and kissed her on the forehead.

  “I’m not. You’ve earned the right to do both.”

  He stood and added, “Good night, honey. I love you.”

  “I love you too, Dad. Good night.”

  The following morning John drove his patrol car to police headquarters and walked into the Communications Center.

  Called “Dispatch” by most police departments, the Comm Center was renamed several years earlier by a police chief who had way too much time on his hands and thought “Communications Center” sounded cooler.

  It was once a bustling place, manned by several people.

  These days it was manned by one dispatcher, using the only base radio that still worked.

  It also staffed two full-time radio repairmen, whose task it was to try to repair as many fried radios as possible and to keep the ones that did work working.

  In the corner of the room was a ham radio they’d obtained from a prepper after the first blackout. It was in a specially-insulated metal case which protected it from the EMP assaults.

  John suspected that in the future all communications products would be in similar cases.

 
He said good morning to the dispatcher and exchanged small talk for a few minutes, nodded to the two repairmen and sat down at the ham radio.

  He turned it to Scott’s frequency and called out, “Scott, Becky, whoever’s monitoring the radio waves today, this is John Castro. Please come in.”

  He got no response, which was unusual in itself.

  Usually the person at the compound’s security desk was so bored they jumped at the chance to talk to someone.

  He tried again.

  “Scott… Becky… this is John Castro in San Antonio. Please acknowledge.”

  This time Linda answered.

  And he could instantly tell something was amiss.

  “Go ahead, John.”

  “Linda? Is that you? You sound stressed. Is something wrong?”

  “John, it’s good to hear your voice. Yes. Sara has gone missing.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  He regretted the words as soon as he said them.

  For a lot of people it was the “go to” phrase they uttered whenever they heard surprising news.

  But of course he wasn’t kidding. It was a stupid thing to say.

  She didn’t hold it against him.

  “She never came home from work last night, John. We’ve been searching frantically for her.”

  “I’m sorry, Linda. Would you like another body to help search?”

  “I’d take a hundred if you had them to give.”

  “I was calling to tell Scott we were headed your way to accept his invitation to move into the compound with you guys.

  “We planned to come up next week. Under the circumstances, though, we’ll leave first thing in the morning.”

  “Thank you, John. I’ll make sure he gets the message, and we’ll look for you by lunchtime tomorrow.”

  It threw a big monkey wrench into their plans. They’d planned to spend the following week saying goodbye to everyone in San Antonio.

  But John was needed in Junction.

  And he wasn’t one who ignored a call for help.

  -41-

  For a time, Jeff thought he’d overdone it with the ether.

  She should be conscious by now, but she was as still and stiff as a corpse.

  He’d had to check her carotid pulse several times just to make sure she was still alive.

  Her breathing was so shallow he could barely see her chest rise and fall.

  She was naked now and lying atop a bed four miles from the abduction scene.

  He’d scoped out the abandoned ranch house the day before, while he was waiting for her to get off work. From the looks of it, it wasn’t a death house. It didn’t have the smell of decaying bodies that lingered for many months, even after such corpses were removed.

  No graves in the back yard or tell-tale piles of bones and ashes either.

  The house was fully furnished and everything was neat as a pin.

  Save two years’ worth of dust covering everything.

  His best guess was that whoever owned the home was away at the time the first blackout hit.

  Perhaps on business, perhaps on vacation.

  But too far away to walk back home.

  Despite the dust the place was roomy and comfortable.

  And it had a full basement.

  It would work quite well for his needs.

  But only temporarily.

  It was too close to the pickup truck and would be in the initial search area once they found the truck.

  But that might take awhile. He’d hidden it fairly well.

  He’d tied Sara’s hands and feet with duct tape and thrown her into the bed of the truck while he finished changing the tire for her.

  He jammed the horse’s leather lead between the tailgate and the truck’s bed as he slammed the tailgate closed.

  Then he slowly pulled a u-turn and headed back toward Interstate 10.

  But not too far.

  He only went as far as the nearest gravel road and turned off of it.

  Some of the gravel roads which connected with Highway 83 were driveways which led to ranches or farmhouses.

  Or to the well-to-do residents who built large homes in the hills outside of Kerrville to escape the hustle-and-bustle of city dwelling.

  Others were access roads which led to privately owned hunting resorts or recreational areas; campgrounds and such.

  Still others were service roads.

  This particular road was owned by a telephone company and was used to perform maintenance on an eighty foot high cell tower.

  Since cell phones didn’t work anymore, and since the telephone company was no longer in business, the road hadn’t been used in quite some time.

  And since it was covered with gravel and therefore wouldn’t leave tire tracks, as a dirt road would, it seemed the perfect place to take a pickup which needed to be hidden.

  He drove the truck almost a mile up the road, then turned off and drove it into the heavy woods for almost another mile before it bogged down.

  He left the key in the ignition.

  It wasn’t something he thought he’d ever need.

  Sara wasn’t stirring when he tossed her unceremoniously over the saddle.

  He used the section of rope he’d brought with him to tie to her ankles.

  He ran the rope beneath the horse and tied the other side to her wrists.

  She looked like the dead body of an outlaw being taken back to town by the marshal in a bad western movie.

  There wasn’t enough room in the saddle for Jeff.

  But that was okay.

  He didn’t mind walking.

  By the time Jordan woke Tom up in a panic to report Sara hadn’t made it home, Jeff was walking through the dark woods and was already three miles away from where he’d abducted her.

  By the time Tom rousted Charlie out of bed and met him back at the Sheriff’s Office he’d added another mile of distance.

  By morning, when the search for Sara started in earnest, he was nursing a blistered heel on a couch at the abandoned ranch house.

  His plan had gone off without a hitch.

  But his fun was only beginning.

  -42-

  “Are you positive she was headed home?”

  Charlie was a little bit peeved at being dragged out of bed and then interrogated by the sheriff.

  “Damn it, Sheriff. I told you a dozen times already, I don’t know. She didn’t say. She just said good night, like every other night, and drove away.”

  Tom was a whole lot more peeved.

  It wasn’t every day a deputy went missing.

  And it wasn’t just any old deputy. That would have been bad enough.

  This was Sara.

  “Which way did she go?”

  “Toward the I-10. Toward Junction.”

  “And she turned west?”

  “Geez, I don’t know, Sheriff. I didn’t see which way she turned. All I know is that she headed toward the interstate. She drove off and I got into my own truck and went home. That’s all I know.”

  There was a knock on the door. It was Paul Thompson, Tom’s other deputy.

  Tom said, “Paul, I want you to go knocking on doors. Round up ten volunteers. I don’t want just anybody. I want good men. Find me ten good men and bring them back here pronto.”

  Paul didn’t say a word and quickly disappeared.

  Tom turned back to Charlie.

  “We’ll assume she headed west toward Junction. I didn’t pass her on my way in so she must have turned off somewhere.

  “I want you to take the first exit west of here. Is that Highway 1783?”

  “Yes sir.”

  “Okay. Take Highway 1783 and go twenty miles in each direction.

  “I’ll take Highway 1338 and do the same thing. We’ll leapfrog all the way to Highway 83.

  “Keep me advised of your progress and don’t just watch for her truck. Watch for anything at all that looks suspicious. Is your radio charged?”

  “It’s about halfway.”
r />   “Take a spare battery with you.”

  “Yes sir.”

  Tom picked up his own radio.

  “Paul, this is Tom. How do you copy?”

  “Loud and clear, Sheriff.”

  “Charlie and I are starting a search of the local highways. Let me know when you get back to the office with our volunteers.”

  “Ten four.”

  Tom climbed into his car just as the sun started its crawl into the sky.

  He said a quick prayer as he raced east on Interstate 10.

  A prayer they’d find Sara quickly and unharmed.

  And that she wasn’t in the clutches of the man they were looking for.

  Jeff had never kidnapped and killed a law enforcement officer before. This was all new to him.

  So new that he almost forgot to grab her radio from the cab of her pickup truck. He had to go back for it.

  He was glad he did.

  Because it helped him monitor what the good guys were up to.

  It didn’t bother him much they were searching the highways. She was well off the highway now, and well off the private roads which connected with the highways. They’d find nothing there to help them.

  What concerned him more were the ten volunteers they were rounding up.

  Ten men could cover a lot of ground if handled right.

  Still, it shouldn’t be a problem.

  They had a hell of a lot of ground to cover.

  And even if they came across the abandoned house, they’d have no probable cause to break into it and search it.

  His victim, if she was still alive, would be tied and gagged in the basement, unable to make a single peep.

  If she was dead when they finally knocked on the door they’d smell her decaying body and would have their probable cause to break in.

  But if she was dead, he’d be long gone before her body started to rot.

  He checked her pulse again. It was faint, but her heart was still beating.

  He wished she’d wake up so he could see the look of terror on her face.

  Seeing that look on his victims’ faces never got old and always gave him a thrill.

  It dawned on him he still hadn’t searched the house.

  Since she was asleep anyway, this was as good a time as any.

  On a mantle over the fireplace he found a pair of fancy oil lamps. He picked up one and shook it. It was full of oil.