by Steven Bird
Next, to stretch the energy in the Ford’s battery as far as he could, using a ratchet sourced from a tool kit he found in a bed-mounted toolbox, Jessie removed the spark plugs from the Ford’s engine, allowing it to spin freely without the burden of compression.
“Here goes,” he said to himself as he turned the key on the Ford. As the starter began to turn the engine, the truck’s mechanical fuel pump pumped the now-diverted fuel from the tank, through Jessie’s patched-together transfer line, and into the Toyota’s fuel tank. “There we go,” he said.
Noticing a small leak from the pressure in the line at one of his splices, Jessie stopped cranking for a moment and tightly wrapped some scavenged electrical wire around the splice and tied it off securely, tightening the fit. Resuming his pump-assisted fuel transfer and observing no further leaks, Jessie continued transferring fuel until the Ford’s battery was fully depleted. Quickly swapping out the Ford’s battery with the one in the minivan, Jessie completed transferring as much fuel as he could, test started the Toyota, and then shut it back off, saying, “Now, to adequately address a few things.”
Carefully and respectfully loading the bodies of the dead into the back of the Toyota, Jessie covered them with a blanket he had recovered from the back of the minivan. As he stood next to the truck with the door open, Jessie looked around and saw a hill off in the distance that would give a good vantage point of both sunsets and sunrises. He then drove the truck to the top of the hill, said a silent prayer, and spent the next two hours digging graves for each of the dead.
Once the bodies had been respectfully interred, Jessie placed his hat on top of his head, and with resolve in his heart, he climbed into the truck and set out in search of the children that he believed had been taken in the ambush. Still being a father and a sheriff in his heart, regardless of his losses, Jessie simply would not be able to live with himself if he didn’t at least investigate the situation to the fullest extent of his abilities.
Chapter Five
With Leina’s arms wrapped tightly around the children, the Suburban sped down the road in the middle of the convoy, which from what she could tell, was heading in a westerly direction. She did her best to try and keep the children calm. Devastated by the loss of their father, young Gavin and Patricia clung tightly to Leina, crying the most sorrowful cries. “Daddy. I want Daddy,” Patricia repeated over and over. With no words to comfort the children, Leina simply held them tight and let them cry. Overwhelmed by the fear of what might come, thoughts raced through her mind.
Looking around inside the vehicle, Leina noticed that it had previously been used in some sort of law enforcement capacity. The two men in the front seats, as well as the two sitting in the third row, directly behind her and the children, were all wearing the same desert tan tactical gear and clothing. They were obviously a well-organized and equipped group. She also noticed that they operated in a very disciplined and precise manner, as if they were professional soldiers of some sort.
Afraid to speak, Leina listened carefully to the men in the front and their muffled conversation.
“The chief wants us to bring the woman to him after we clean her up,” the driver said to the man in the passenger seat.
“Of course, he does,” the other man said in reply. “We do the work and he has the fun.”
“Yeah, but at least we can have fun getting her all cleaned up,” the driver said.
“Table scraps,” the other man replied dismissively as he looked back to see Leina listening in. Flinching at her in an aggressive manner to intimidate her, the man smiled with satisfaction to see her recoil in fear. He turned back to the driver and said, “What about the kids?”
“Phillips and Lopez are supposed to take them to El Paso to see what they can get. They ought to be worth a few kilos each. Especially the girls.”
“What?” Leina shouted, unable to contain herself any longer. “These kids aren’t going anywhere! Who the hell do you think you are?”
Interrupted by a smack to the side of her face by one of the men in the rear seat, Leina’s head whipped back violently against the seat as the man grabbed her by the hair. “Shut up, bitchˮ the man said through gritted teeth.
“Hey, Lopez, no bruises,” the man in the front passenger seat said. “The chief likes his ladies to look nice.”
“Sorry, Barnes,” the man said as he released his grip on her hair.
The one called Barnes then looked at Leina and said, “Stay calm and quiet, and things will go a lot easier. You give us trouble, and you’ll get trouble. Understand?”
Replying with a nod, Leina clenched her teeth to refrain from unleashing her rage on the men. Turning her attentions to the children sitting beside her, Leina leaned over and kissed each on the forehead, and said, “It’s gonna be okay. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
Barnes chuckled at her statement and then turned his attention back to the road ahead.
~~~~
Huddled up with the children in the middle row, Leina felt the Suburban begin to decelerate. Sitting up to see what was going on, she saw a small town off in the distance, directly ahead of them.
As the vehicles approached what appeared to be a checkpoint with two armed men standing guard, dressed in the same gear as her captors, they were waved through without incident. As the vehicles drove through the town, Leina noticed an absence of activity. There was no one out and about. It appeared as if the town was entirely abandoned. Then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw a curtain in the window of a small one-story house draw closed, almost as if someone inside had been watching them drive by.
As the vehicles turned onto a side street, they pulled into the rear parking lot of a two-story block building. The parking lot was surrounded by a tall chain-link fence topped with razor wire, with security cameras mounted high above at each corner. Inside the parking lot, there were several of what she assumed to be police vehicles, all painted various shades of brown and tan. Once all three of the vehicles were safely inside the fenced parking lot, the gate was closed behind them by a man who was standing guard over the facility.
Coming to a stop, Barnes turned and looked at Leina, saying, “Don’t be stupid. Do what you’re told and things will go a lot smoother. Resist, and you’ll only make things harder on them,” gesturing toward the children.
As the driver placed the transmission in park and shut the vehicle off, he and Barnes exited the vehicle and walked around beside each of the rear doors. Barnes opened the passenger-side rear door and said, “Okay, you come with us. Phillips and Lopez will take care of the kids.”
“I’m not leaving them,” Leina said as she hugged the children tightly.
Without further warning, Barnes aggressively reached inside the vehicle, grabbing Leina by the foot, pulling her out of the Suburban as the children slipped from her grasp. As she was violently yanked out of the vehicle by Barnes, the children screamed in terror as the driver reached in for them from the other side. Attempting to grab onto anything she could to fight back, Leina’s upper body slipped off the seat as she fell to the ground, the back of her head hitting the door-jamb of the vehicle and the pavement below, turning her world to darkness.
Chapter Six
Driving west in the direction that the vehicle tracks suggested, Jessie passed Red Lake off to his right and thought to himself with frustration, I can’t believe I’m backtracking. I don’t even know where the heck it is that I’m going, or what it is that I am even looking for. What’s wrong with me? he thought as he scanned the nearly flat terrain for an opportunity to gain the high ground for a vantage point. “Damn, I miss the mountains,” he said as he saw a narrow dirt road leading into the small, barren hills behind Red Lake. “Looks like this will have to do.”
He steered the truck off the main road. Tapping on the fuel gauge, he said, “Well, that’s not gonna do for long,” noting the insufficient amount of fuel he had obtained from the damaged Ford pickup.
As he brought the Toyota to a
stop, Jessie removed the keys and slipped them into the side pocket of his light brown, cargo-style pants, placed his well-worn, wide-brimmed hat on top of his head, and stepped out of the truck, rifle in hand.
Walking further up the hill, with the town of Fort Sumner beginning to come into view, Jessie ducked down and crept to the peak of the terrain. Arriving at the best vantage point he could get, Jessie crawled to the edge and glassed the area below with his rifle’s scope. Too far, he thought as he shifted his attention from the distant town to the roads of the surrounding area.
Patiently watching for movement down below, he noticed a trail of dust being kicked up behind a vehicle off in the distance. Focusing on the movement, Jessie dialed the parallax adjustment on his scope to infinite, in an attempt to fine-tune his focus for a better look. Damn it, he thought, frustrated that he was too far away to learn anything specific about the vehicle and its occupants.
Jessie’s journey east on foot had taken him well north of Fort Sumner and then back south again to intercept Highway 60. I went a long damn way out of the way to avoid this place, and now here I am, he thought, second-guessing his decision to investigate the scene of the ambush.
Startled by an angry voice, Jessie heard a man say in an aggressive and forceful tone, “Hands off the gun, you thievin’ son-of-a-bitch!”
Knowing he couldn’t turn around quickly enough from the prone position, Jessie reluctantly relaxed his grip on the rifle and gently placed it on the ground, saying, “I think we may have a misunderstanding here.”
“There’s no damn misunderstanding about it. You no-good looters and thieves have been coming to rustle my cattle for too long now, and I’m about to put an end to it!” the man shouted.
“Cattle? Sir, I have no idea what you’re…”
“Shut up!”
Realizing he was losing control of the situation, Jessie began to slowly stand and turn around to his left, in an attempt to keep his holstered Colt out of plain view.
“Damn it, I said don’t move!” the man shouted, cycling a round into the chamber of a Marlin model 1894 lever-action rifle.
Seeing a disheveled, elderly gentleman standing in front of him, wearing mismatched boots, torn pants, and a heavily soiled plaid button-up shirt, Jessie attempted to rationalize with the man who was clearly in distress. In a calm voice, he said, “Sir, I don’t even know where your cattle are. I just came up here to try to get a look around. I didn’t realize I was trespassing.”
“You took my ranch, you took my family, and now you want to take what’s left of my cattle! I won’t stand for it! I won’t take it! I’ll kill you, you son of a bitch!” the man shouted at the top of his lungs as he raised the rifle.
Seeing the psychotic rage in the man’s eyes, Jessie quickly turned and drew his Colt as he attempted to move out of the man’s line of fire, “No! Sir, don’t! Don’t!”
The almost silent tranquility of the calm desert evening was shattered by the crack of the man’s rifle, followed immediately by the report of Jessie’s Colt as the two guns discharged almost simultaneously.
Impacting the ground with his right shoulder, kicking up a cloud of dust, Jessie watched as the man fell backward as if in slow motion, his head bouncing on the hard dirt below and his rifle striking the ground just out of his reach.
“Damn it! I said no!” Jessie exclaimed as he rushed to his feet and to the man’s side. Quickly looking him over for other weapons, Jessie removed the man’s knife and tossed it aside. Seeing the fear in the dying man’s eyes, Jessie said softly, “I didn’t want to do it. I’m sorry. You left me no choice. Why couldn’t you just let me be?”
“You bastards have taken everything from me,” the man said, interrupted by a gurgled cough as his lungs began to pool with blood. “You… you’ve taken everything from me.”
“I’m not whoever it is you think I am,” Jessie said, looking into the man’s eyes. “I know you’re in a lot of pain. I know you’ve gone through a lot. But it’s over now. You’re about to be free from this world. Your suffering is over. I’m sorry. I’m truly sorry,” Jessie said as he watched the man’s last breath escape his lungs as he looked up to the heavens above.
Punching the ground in frustration, Jessie shouted, “Damn it! Why? Why? Why? Why did you make me do that?” He scooted back from the man and sat on the ground, looking up at the sky as if he was searching for answers.
Hearing a noise off in the distance, Jessie scrambled over to his rifle, picked it up, and began scanning the area below with his scope. “Crap!” he said as he saw two large SUVs speeding down Highway 60 toward his location.
Knowing he didn’t have enough fuel to attempt a getaway in the Toyota, Jessie frantically looked around to see a horse standing patiently off in the distance, down the backside of the hill from his position, as if waiting for his master to return. Realizing the horse must have belonged to the old man, Jessie knelt down beside him, placed his hand over his face, closed his eyes, and whispered softly, “I’m sorry.” Saying a silent prayer for the man, Jessie stood up and began a brisk walk down the backside of the hill toward the horse.
“Easy,” he said as he approached. “Good boy. Easy boy,” he repeatedly said as he took hold of the horse’s bridle. “Shhhh, shhh, it’s okay. I’m not gonna hurt you,” he whispered.
Placing one foot in the stirrup and swinging his other leg over the horse’s back, Jessie gently nudged him into action, and said, “Come on boy, let’s go,” as he rode down the north side of the hill and away from the rapidly approaching SUVs.
~~~~
Reaching the bottom of the hill, Jessie urged the horse down into a dried up, washed out gully that he assumed only held water after heavy rains. With brush growing alongside the gully, Jessie rode west, using it as visual cover. Reaching a point where he would be exposed to plain view, he brought the old horse to a stop, dismounted, and secured the horse's reins to a large rock, keeping him down in the wash and out of view from above.
Slipping his rifle through the brush, Jessie cupped his left hand over his scope’s objective lens in an attempt to shade it from the sun, reducing the chances of giving away his position with an inadvertent glint of light. After a few moments, he spotted movement on the hill above. At this range, he could make out a man in full SWAT-style gear, scanning the terrain below.
Law enforcement? Jessie wondered to himself. Nah, can’t risk it. Even if it is, that’s liable to have been one of the officer’s crazy uncle or something, and I'd have a hard time explaining why I had to shoot him.
Checking the condition of his rifle, preparing to defend himself if necessary, Jessie verified that a round was in the chamber with the safety on. He gently placed the rifle on the ground next to him and drew his Colt, flipping open the loading gate and pushing the spent case out of the cylinder with the ejection rod, replacing it with a fresh round of .357 Magnum.
Returning the Colt to his holster, Jessie once again picked up his rifle and scanned the area above through his scope. Nothing, he thought. Well, they're either gone or working their way around the hill to flank me.
Resolved to the fact that he had better stay put for now, Jessie leaned back against a rock in the bottom of the dry wash, looked at the horse, and said, “As crazy as that man seemed, it looks like he managed to keep you fed. You help me get out of this, and I'll make sure that continues.”
~~~~
For the next several hours, Jessie watched and listened patiently for signs of others. His mind drifting in and out of a guilt-driven depression brought on by the death of the man he’d had to shoot. I couldn't have done anything differently, he argued in his own mind. He’d lost it. There was no reasoning with him. He was lost in the dark and twisted world his life had become, and there was no pulling him out of it in the few moments I had. If he would have happened across me right after Stephanie and the kids were taken, he’d have likely had to kill me, too. Damn it, though, I still could have, or should have, done something differently… but wha
t?
As darkness fell, Jessie looked at the horse and said, “I believe they're gone,” as he stood and carefully looked around. Taking the horse's reins with his left hand, he rubbed the animal’s neck with his right hand and said, “Come on boy. Let's take it slow and easy. Common sense tells me to head to the east away from this place, but my gut keeps telling me there’s something I need to see in town.” Chuckling to himself, he said, “If I keep listening to my gut, it’s gonna be the end of me one of these days… but sometimes, I think that would be a gift.”
Shaking himself out of the profoundly dark place that he had let his mind wander to, Jessie silently urged the horse forward, into the darkness and into the unknown.
Chapter Seven
Her head pounding and her ears ringing, Leina woke to the horrible realization that the children were not with her. “Kayla! Gavin! Patricia!” she shouted, causing her to wince in pain. Putting her hand on the back of her head, Leina felt a bandage that was soaked in dried blood. Looking around the darkened room, lit only by the light shining underneath the door, she attempted to stand, only to immediately lie back down on the blanket strewn across the cold, concrete floor.
She felt as if she needed to vomit. The room was spinning. Her thoughts were in disarray. Where are my clothes? she thought as she realized she was covered only with a thin bedsheet. She could hear the sounds of muffled voices coming from the next room, but could not understand the words.