The vacant, absent gaze returned. Hibbert patted his pockets. “I dearly wish I had my iPhone. I have links to this topic if I could get online. Perhaps I could send a text or an email to an associate at Oxford. He and I both read the Stephen King novel, Under the Dome. He has some interesting thoughts and how something like could happen. I wonder if I might borrow your phone, Mr. Malone?”
Davidson cursed and smashed a fist into the whiteboard, sailing it into the bricks on the hearth and knocking into the fire screen. “This crazy loon is useless to us.” He hiked his cargo pants and adjusted the holster on the belt. “I say we go find one of those beacons and start contemplating a plan to exit this under the dome scenario.”
Hunter lifted the whiteboard. “Doc, does this sound like what we should do?”
With a kick at the wooden floor, Tom scowled. Maybe Hibbert made a discovery. He missed Barb, the Hibbert whisperer. “Problem is we don’t know where to find a beacon.”
“T.C. mentioned post offices, schools, government offices. There must be dozens of places.” With one of the spindle legs hanging, Hunter leaned the tripod against a wall. “We can’t just sit here.”
Pointing to the window and the snow piling, Tom shrugged. “The summertime snowstorm might have a different idea.”
Travis Wayne shadowed Tom and cruised to the window. “I can navigate. It’s second nature to me. I can check the schools, other public offices, and the bus station. It won’t take more than a couple of hours.”
“A solo trek?” With his tingling hand braced against the rock fireplace, Tom tested his bum ankle, wondering if he would slow Travis Wayne. “Going alone doesn’t sound like a good idea, Hondo.”
“I’ll be fine. On my own, I’ll move like the wind. You, Scotty’s brother, and Miss Sherwood are injured and tired.”
“I can go,” Hunter snapped. But his injury pegged him as a deterrent to stealth and speed.
“Well, I’m not limping and I didn’t get electrocuted.” Dixie crossed her arms in a defiant pose aimed at her father.
Davidson balled his fists and flailed his barrel chest. “We aren’t through talking about your last stunt. You will not be going on this trip.” He hiked his pants again. “But I might be.”
“No offense, Mr. Davidson. You’re injured and rely on a walking stick. None of y’all can keep up.”
“Wrong.” Robin bundled the black ski hat in her gloved hands. “I’ve trained for this for months and I’m neither injured or tired. I’m going with you.”
On the patio with near-whiteout condition snowfall, Tom helped the dynamic duo with backpacks and supplies – mostly ammo – and he offered words of encouragement and instructions to return by midnight. Travis Wayne assured Tom of his navigation abilities, his hunting skills, and his internal clock.
Robin buttoned her Dalmatian-patterned jacket. “I’m coming back with one of those beacons. I feel it. You might see if you can get the fogged-out professor to figure out how a beacon might activate a wormhole and why the radios work only part of the time.”
After helping them pack for the trip, Tom found himself woozy and exhausted. He stumbled to a cot in the dining area, noticing the group established sleeping quarters in his absence. He intended on catching an hour-long nap before he relived Emerson of watch duty.
Chapter 20 – Powwow
Reagan
Staring at the hissing radio, Reagan fiddled with the buttons in a desperate attempt to reconnect with her father. A scream from the wagon train, half a football field away, broke her concentration. Barb, Scotty, and Reagan’s eyes met as they froze in place. Reagan charged toward the scream.
Scotty hooked her arm. “Give me the radio.”
“Why?”
“It’s an ambush.” Scotty stuffed the radio in a pack and hid the bag in thick prairie grass. Reagan approached the tracks with her rifle drawn. Scotty and Barb flanked her.
Annabeth towered over a short, stocky man with a bandana shielding his balding head. He discharged a low whistle. “Drop it or the teen gets it.” He leveled a gun at her.
Fear coursed through Reagan as she assessed the man’s charcoal eyes. He sported a scraggly dark beard and a gap in his front teeth. He matched the description of Artie Bland. “We have you outnumbered; let Annabeth go.”
“You sure?” He jerked a thumb at the Caribou Crew and Granddad. “Those folks are pretty slow and ain’t gonna be much help. Leaving y’all three. And I brought friends too.” Artie whistled. Duke lumbered clear of the treeline and a Hispanic woman approached from behind Reagan. “How about y’all drop your guns nice and slow.”
“Frankenstein is in my sights,” Scotty whispered.
“Don’t do anything stupid,” a fourth member of the Merry Men said touching the barrel of her gun to Scotty’s neck. The young, pretty brunette was Jacki Kingston. “We meet again, Reagan Cassidy.”
“Now how about those guns?” Artie asked.
Barb abandoned her weapon first. “We’ll cooperate; you don’t need to hurt anyone.”
Reagan tossed her rifle and Scotty frisbeed a Sig. His signature Colt was nowhere in sight.
“Come join the group. I’m L… Artie. I hear you’ve met Duke; this is Clorinda and Jacki.” Artie retreated a step from Annabeth. His bare chest was sunburned and dirt covered his cargo shorts.
Jacki glided to search the Caribou Crew, Granddad, and Annabeth for weapons. “How about handing over the knife you’re hiding, Jasper,” she said with a crooked smile.
Jasper’s jaw twitched as he tossed the hunting knife into the confiscated weapons pile.
“Now we can talk like civilized people,” Artie said.
“What do you want from us?” Barb asked.
“Nothin’ just yet.”
“Your gorilla attacked us at a school.” Reagan pointed to Duke. “Are you here to finish the job?”
“Duke was bit confused, followin’ the wrong orders,” Artie said. “He was supposed to kill the… what did Nottingham call ‘em?” He snapped his fingers as he searched for the word.
“Anomalies,” Jacki said.
“But we ain’t workin’ for Nottingham anymore. If he wants Scotty dead, well we might wanna keep him alive.” Artie raised his Glock. “Unless you give me a reason not to.” He grinned. “This little powwow is meant to set you straight. We ain’t your enemies unless you make us your enemies.”
“Meaning what?” Reagan asked.
“Our war is with Nottingham. I suggest you stop fighting us. If you don’t, your nice little family might become unfortunate casualties.”
Reagan tried to read the situation and determine what she could believe. According to Gilbert’s letter, Artie was psychotic. “Why does Nottingham want anomalies killed?”
“Don’t know and don’t care.” Artie shrugged. “But I tend to stray toward the opposite of what that cat wants.”
“What is an anomaly?” Scotty asked.
“You and your brother. You weren’t part of the experiment, but slipped through into the…”
“Artie,” Jacki warned.
“Enough chitchat.” Artie motioned for Duke to gather the weapons. “Remember our bargain.”
“We didn’t agree to anything,” Reagan said.
“It’s in your best interest to listen to my warning, kid.” Artie waddled closer. “And don’t try any of the following us to our secret hideout nonsense. Duke’s got orders to blast the first thing that moves.”
The Merry Men backed out of camp carrying the troop’s entire arsenal. The engines of ATVs roared to life and faded in the distance.
“We have to go after them,” Meredith said. “Right Jasper?”
“They have all of our guns and left on ATVs,” Granddad said. “How do you suppose we catch them, and when we do, what then?”
“Which is exactly why somebody should go after them,” Meredith said. “We’ll be sitting ducks next time.”
Scotty jogged to the area with the hidden backpack. “At least we still
have the radio and this.” He removed the Colt .45 and spun it on his finger.
“We can find more guns,” Barb said. Her calming words soothed the Caribou Crew. “All we have to do is locate a sheriff’s station or a sporting goods store.”
“What about Kelly?” Annabeth held Mickey close. “Do you think they have her?”
All eyes landed on Reagan for answers. “The Merry Men came from the opposite direction of Kelly. I’m sure we’ll catch her soon. For now, we press on. We’ll be on the lookout for a place to stock up.”
“Are we planning to keep the bargain?” Jasper asked.
“For now.” Reagan tightened her lips. “We spoke briefly to Travis Wayne. My father jumped in as the radio was playing out. He gave us two important missions. The first is to find Nate Campbell. He is traveling between the wormholes and using them to his advantage.”
“What was the second thing?” Granddad asked.
“My dad said the Merry Men use beacons to find the wormholes.” Reagan dug through her pack and presented the canister found among Duke’s possessions. “This is what he described.”
“And Nate Campbell is the key to understanding how it works,” Scotty said.
Barb packed the remaining food. “First things first. We better find Kelly.”
Reagan shifted in the saddle as they rode the railroad. Her body stiffened, her arms hung like noodles, and her head ached. They hadn’t found Kelly and defeat began to eat its way through the group.
“We need to find more guns,” Jasper said from his post in the wagon. “Whatever truce Artie Bland offered won’t last.”
Reagan rode beside the wagon, while Scotty and their only gun paved the way. “What did you make of Artie?”
“Based on what we saw, Artie’s what we call an Executive,” Jasper said. “He’s a take-charge kind of guy and likes to be perceived as the leader. He can be overbearing and impatient. Some famous examples of his personality are Joseph Stalin and Napoleon.”
Reagan’s eyes focused on the horizon. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I got the feeling Artie only thought he was in charge.”
“You’re referring to Jacki Kingston?” Jasper asked.
“It seemed she was the puppeteer, pulling Artie’s strings.”
“Jacki didn’t speak much, but my preliminary profile pegs her as a Performer. She is highly sociable, thrives on excitement, loves to be the center of attention, is a good improviser, witty, and a team player. On the negative side she may be materialistic, reckless, and overlook long-term consequences for short-term gain.”
Reagan absorbed the new information and marked Jacki as one of their more dangerous foes and the likely leader. “Did you believe Artie’s spiel about separating from Nottingham?”
“Hard to say,” Jasper said. “But if that’s the case we might be in the middle of a war.”
“The horses are getting tired,” Granddad said from the front of the wagon. “Best we find a place to settle for the night.”
They traveled the railroad tracks for several hours since losing their guns. There weren’t any places to raid near the tracks. Reagan wanted to stay on the path. “Kelly will be looking for us on the tracks.”
Barb rode on the other side of the wagon. “We might try heading further inland to find shelter.”
Granddad massaged his neck and stretched his legs as best as he could. “Kelly wouldn’t have gone this far before turning back. We should have caught her by now.”
Reagan understood the logic, but she didn’t want to contemplate the consequences. “If we stray from the tracks, she might never find us.”
Granddad stopped the wagon. “I don’t want to abandon the search for Kelly, but it’ll be dark soon. We’ll start the search again in the morning.”
“It might be too late by then.” Annabeth bounced on her seat. “Maybe we could leave a note on the tracks?”
“And lead the Merry Men right to us?” Jasper said. “No chance. I’m sorry about your girl but she made her choice to wander off. We can’t put ourselves at risk because you can’t let go.”
“Reagan’s compassion is the only reason we’re still dragging you people along,” Annabeth blurted. She covered her mouth. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to sound so harsh.”
“We’re all a little frazzled.” Barb stroked Annabeth’s arm. “All the more reason we should get some rest.”
Scotty whistled from forty yards away. Reagan nudged her horse into a gallop. When she screeched to a stop next to him, Scotty handed her a pair of binoculars. “That’s gotta be the best thing I’ve seen all day.”
“What?” Reagan gazed through the binoculars. A giant stone sign in the shape of Texas perched on a stack of rocks.
“Welcome to Texas.” Scotty’s cowboy grin beamed.
Reagan smiled at the short blonde sitting on the part of the Texas-shaped sign where the Red River separated Texas and Oklahoma. “Kelly!”
Within a few minutes, they met Kelly at the Texas-Louisiana border. “There’s a farmhouse about a mile up the road,” Kelly said. “It should be a good place to spend the night.”
Barb handed her a bottle of water. “What happened, Kelly?”
Kelly chugged the water and dabbed her mouth with her wrist. “I’ll explain everything once we’re settled. Maybe we should send a posse ahead and search the farmhouse?”
“No guns. We’re Canada,” Reagan said. “We were surrounded by Artie, Duke, Clorinda, and Jacki, who appropriated our weapons.”
“We’re lucky they didn’t kill us,” Meredith said fussing with his fire department hat.
“Well, I still have a gun,” Kelly said handing it to Reagan. “But you’re a better shot.”
“Ooh, now we have two.” Scotty motioned to his Colt.
“Looks like we both have some ‘splaining to do,” Kelly smirked. “But first let’s find shelter.”
After concealing their wagon near the tracks, they headed for the farmhouse with their exhausted horses in tow. A pale brown rail fence surrounded the property and grass grew wild next to the posts. As they approached a hand-carved sign for the Lost Countryside Ranch, Reagan handed Bailey’s lead rope to Kelly. Reagan swung the rustic wooden gate and the group filed inside, Granddad and Jasper leading the draft horses. As they clomped down the gravel road, an abandoned John Deere tractor came into view, parked under a tree. They rounded the bend and a red barn greeted them. The paint faded to a chipped tawny red and the tin roof sparkled as the setting sun reflected. A windmill spun in the light breeze. A field of yellow wildflowers separated the road from the barn.
“Looks empty,” Scotty said with his gun drawn, but at his side.
“Stay alert,” Reagan said holding the Glock. She missed her rifle and the scope.
Silence filled the next several minutes. Reagan remembered trips to West Texas, her mother and Granddad’s hometown. The ranch Virginia lived on as a child was similar to the one where Granddad retired in Montana. They were both calm and peaceful. But the Texas ranch from childhood visits had distinct sounds and critters stirring. Locusts were the soundtrack of summer afternoons. At dusk, grasshoppers would make an appearance along with the frogs from a nearby pond. A distant “moo” from the cattle, a whinny in the barn, and a hoot from an owl were some of the expected ambient noises. But Reagan heard nothing of the sort. Whatever this crazy thing making a majority of the population disappear also messed with nature.
They continued on the road until they spotted the farmhouse tucked in a grove of trees, better kept than the barn. White paneling and navy-blue shutters contrasted the surrounding greenery. Red oaks and live oaks offered shade around the home. An aqua Chevy pickup circa 1970 parked under a car porch.
“I’ll check the pickup,” Scotty said. “Not that it’ll do any good.”
The wraparound porch offered a picturesque view of the sunset. But a shadowy figure lurked on the far edge in a rocking chair. “Stay here,” Reagan said. “Jasper, Kelly, come with me.”
“What is it?” Kelly whispered.
“I’m not sure. But I think someone’s sitting on the porch.” Reagan inched to the side of the house, careful not to stomp through the flower bed. “Talk to them, Jasper.”
“Why me?” he asked.
“Because you’re the profiler,” Reagan reminded him.
Jasper cleared his throat. “Hello? Is anyone home? We mean you no trouble, we are looking for a safe place to rest. Hello?” Jasper shrugged as the trio continued to creep. When the rocker came into view Reagan shuddered.
Kelly covered her mouth. “What happened to them?”
Reagan inspected the two dead bodies on the porch. A middle-aged woman was limp in the rocker while the man lay on the porch, shotgun shells surrounding him and the gun in his grasp.
“Looks like pros,” Jasper said. “The woman took one between the eyes. Her husband probably busted through the backdoor with his shotgun blasting at their attacker. He took two in the chest.”
They returned to the group. “It looks like the Merry Men made good on their promise to kill the anomalies,” Reagan said.
Granddad twirled his cane. “But Artie said he didn’t want to kill anomalies.”
“There’s, what, ten other Merry Men?” Scotty said. “Maybe one of the others did this.”
“Whoever killed the family is gone,” Reagan said. “And since the Merry Men already searched here, they don’t have a reason to return.”
“We’ll be safe here,” Annabeth said.
“Before we go inside and hear Kelly’s fascinating story, let’s get settled.” Reagan put her hands on her hips. “Kelly, Granddad, Annabeth, and Scotty I’d like y’all to rub-down the horses and make sure they have water and hay in the barn. Barb, can you Olivia, Dawn, and Meredith take stock of supplies?”
“What are you and me doing?” Jasper barked.
“We’re going to search the property,” Reagan said. “We don’t have much time; let’s get work.” Reagan headed to the barn and located a wheelbarrow and two shovels.
Jasper’s brow furrowed. “What are you doing?”
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