by Vicky Jones
Chapter 60
The gas station at the end of the driveway to Ellis and Bruce had been in the Bullen family for over fifty years, passed down from generation to generation. It'd started life as a simple convenience store but when the Ellis and Bruce plant arrived on the scene, the Bullen family realized they were sitting on a goldmine. Their store sat next to a busy crossroad, a few miles out of town–with no other gas stations for miles. When Larry Bruce partnered up with Jeffrey Ellis, he brought with him his fleet of trucks to be the distribution side of the partnership. As soon as Bullen senior had spoken to Larry Bruce, the deal was done. They offered the cheapest gas around, providing that the company sent their trucks there every time they were sent out on delivery. Bullen senior had the underground storage tanks fitted that same month. Gas, however, was not the only thing that brought money into the Bullen household.
Bullen senior had three sons: Earl, Ernest, and the runt of the litter, Billy. Earl took over the family business when his father died five years ago, leaving Ernest to be his second-in-command. Billy, the more sensitive one, kept to himself, choosing to spend his time fishing and playing with his Alsatian dog.
That afternoon, Earl Bullen sat on his porch swing, staring into the distance. He blinked as a black speck running into the field just opposite the gas station caught his eye. Across the other side of the field was the main building of the Ellis and Bruce site. The black speck slowed down, then dropped to the floor.
"Hey, Ernest, come here a minute, will'ya–" he drawled, scratching his head.
"What the hell's the matter?" Ernest Bullen emerged from the side door to the gas station, his grubby, white-stained undershirt riding up over his noticeable beer belly. He was twenty-seven years old, five years younger than his older brother and six years older than Billy.
"Over there." Earl nodded his head to the black speck which had started staggering again across the adjoining field.
"What th'hell is it?" Ernest said, squinting as he reached over to grab the binoculars constantly resting on the veranda banister. He let out a burst of excitement as it dawned on him what it was.
"NIGGER ON THE RUN!"
Ernest grinned at his older brother and reached over for his shotgun as if he'd just seen a prize turkey released into the open.
"Wait!" Earl grabbed his arm. "You know the drill. We wait for the call, remember? We don't do nothin' till they got our back!" He bit down tightly on his cigarette.
Ernest lowered his shotgun and frowned, but he knew his brother was right. They had to be smart. It had to be clean.
The telephone inside the office rang loudly. Moments later, a young man stepped out onto the veranda. His thick black hair was combed to the side, his bangs hanging heavily over his right eye. He wore ratty overalls covered in muck from doing the dirtiest jobs around the garage and couldn't have been more than a hundred and forty pounds dripping wet. His faithful Alsatian dog stood calmly by his side.
"Earl? That was Mr. Bruce. He said to tell you that it was time," Billy Bullen said meekly. His eyes lowered as he addressed his older brother.
Earl Bullen looked at Ernest, a slow grin creeping over his stubbly face as he removed his half-smoked cigarette.
"Well, I guess that's our cue!" He gestured towards Ernest, who began loading his shotgun.
"Billy, you get in the back with the dog. Ernest, in the front with me."
They climbed into their green Ford pickup truck as Earl crushed his cigarette butt underneath his heavy boots.
"Let's go catch ourselves a colored, boys!" Ernest Bullen cried as the truck engine roared, heading straight to the field, bypassing the formality of the driveway altogether.
The long rope they carried every time dangled ominously from the tailgate.
Ready as always.
Bang.
A perfect shot, expertly fired from a Remington 870 shotgun, exploded into Cuban's lower leg. They'd had lots of practice. Hitting him just above his knife wound, though, it at least gave him the use of his other leg to desperately try and drag himself onwards.
Not far behind him, he could hear the baying mob's angry jeers catching on the wind. Another shot whizzed past, a clean shot that would have gone right through his arm if he hadn't dropped to the ground as quickly as he did. With the long grass of the field acting as a kind of cover, Cuban crawled as fast as he could, spotting the Weaver up ahead. If he could just catch the current, he might have a chance.
"CUBAN!"
Shona screamed at the top of her lungs, doubling over as she bent forward as if it would somehow project her strangled voice further. She'd run out of the locker room and fought her way through to be at the front of the crowd. Scanning the field desperately to see her injured friend, she’d jumped as she heard the first gunshot, then saw Cuban fall to the ground.
It was hopeless.
Helplessly, she watched the wretched figure of Cuban rise and start limping again. She could see he was heading for the river. Please just make it!
"Whoa! Where d'you think you're goin', missy? Tryin' to help your lil' friend?" Kyle whispered in Shona's ear as his strong arms grabbed her from behind and held her chin up towards the field. "Let's watch, eh? Let's see if he can outrun…a dog."
He yanked her head in the direction of the Bullens’ rusting green truck as it flew across the field chasing down a desperate Cuban.
"NO, SHONA, DON'T RUN AFTER HIM! YOU MIGHT GET HURT AS WELL!" Kyle shouted, inches from her ear.
The crowd watching Cuban's escape turned around and stared as Kyle restrained Shona, each man nodding in admiration at his heroic gesture. Shona's lungs burned as she squirmed in his tight grasp, screaming her friend's name over and over again.
Cuban could hear the water as it rushed downstream. He reached out, grasping for precious handfuls of earth to pull him closer and closer to the riverbank. Cruelly, he was only a few yards away when he felt the jaws of the snarling Alsatian, let off its leash to finish the kill. He tried to shake it off, feeling its teeth puncture his cotton shirt as it latched onto his forearm. Another gunshot zipped passed Cuban's head, taking his attention away momentarily from the slavering dog. The Alsatian then released its grip on his forearm and bit down hard on his wounded leg, causing him to let out a fresh blood-curdling scream.
The Bullens’ truck thundered up behind Cuban, swathing him in dust as the tires skidded to a stop. For a few seconds nothing happened, the men in the truck only too happy to watch the dog rip lumps out of his mangled leg. He was barely conscious now, dark red blood dripping from his mouth. Ernest Bullen leaped out of the truck and bounded over to Cuban, kicking him squarely in the stomach. He coughed up more blood, a gurgling sound bubbling up in his throat.
"Are you watching, Jackson? We're gettin' to the good bit now!" Kyle said as he held Shona's face in his cupped hand, forcing her to watch as the dust settled to reveal Ernest Bullen by the tail of the truck, his hands gripping the dangling rope. He walked towards Cuban, kicked the dog off, then looped the rope around his bloodied leg. Cackling over him, he dropped a huge globule of spit on Cuban's face, slowly letting it fall to prolong the humiliation.
"Hit the gas, brother. We bagged ourselves a prize!"
Jumping back into the truck, Ernest whooped as it roared to life once more. Then, with grim inevitability, the handbrake was released, and Cuban's fate was sealed.
Shona watched helplessly, the rope taking an agonizing six seconds to become taut as the truck gathered speed. With one mighty heave of her leg, she kicked Kyle hard in the shin and released herself from his grip. Running as fast as her trembling legs could carry her, she knew she only had seconds to get there.
The rope twanged as its slack ran out. Shona was less than five yards away when her friend skidded from her and his broken body was dragged over every bump, his skin ripping off more with every foot of ground. They picked up speed as they reached the road, totally out of Shona's reach now.
"Cuban! Cuban! I'm here. I'm here!" she screamed.
After less than a minute, Cuban's flailing arms became limp.
Shona screamed, put her hands on her knees, then vomited several times. Through her tears, she watched the truck stop at the top of the road. Laughing like hyenas, two men got out and dragged Cuban's lifeless body off the ground, dumping it on the back of the truck like a butchered pig.
She felt the world spin around her. Then she then felt nothing as darkness engulfed her and she hit the ground.
Moments later, Elbie's truck whooshed up to find her lying prone on the dry yellow grass. Jumping out of the cab, he ran over to her and gathered her up in his arms, trying desperately to shake her into consciousness. Eventually, she came to her senses, her eyes darting wildly.
"Elbie! They got Cuban…I need to get to the sheriff, NOW, goddamn it! Lemme go!"
"No, don't you realize? It was a setup! You won't get anywhere with the sheriff. He's on the payroll. You must know that by now!" Elbie's own eyes were filled with angry tears.
"What are you saying? That I'm not supposed to do anything? I just saw my best friend get murdered right in front of me! Chambers is gon' pay for this!"
"Shona, wake up! D'you think anyone is gon' believe you over him? He's standin' over there tellin' everyone he just saved your ass from the same fate! He's a goddamn hero to them now!"
"WHAT?" she raged. "Then I'll tell the sheriff it was Bruce! He musta ordered it!"
Exasperated, Elbie grabbed her face in his trembling hands.
"Are you SERIOUS? Larry Bruce OWNS THIS TOWN!"
Shona wrestled her body out of the old man’s weakening arms and stared at him for a moment, apoplectic with fury.
"ARGH! Those fucking bastards won't get away with this, I goddamn swear it!"
Dizzily, she dragged herself off the ground and looked around for a second. Elbie clambered to his feet also, then put his arm around her and guided her back to his truck.
Back at the site, the crowd was still staring in awe at their boss, who was recovering himself after his heroics.
"Sir, are you OK? You got blood on you…are you hurt?"
Kevin, the delivery guy, stared down in concern at Kyle as he watched him rub his bruised shin bone.
"I'm OK, thank you, Kevin. Jeez, that damn colored went straight for me! He was outta control! Caught him in the locker room attacking young Shona, then he went for me when I tried to intervene! Everyone told me he was a violent son'bitch, but I wanted to give him a chance, you know?"
Kevin nodded and offered his arm to help his shaken boss back to his office, the rest of the dissipating crowd smiling sympathetically at them.
It took a performance of monumental proportions to stop Kyle Chambers from screaming out with elation at his masterstroke.
Chapter 61
"Calm down, dear, calm DOWN! What on earth's happened?!"
Dorothy begged the distraught young woman on the other end of the phone to slow down. She could barely get a word in edgewise.
"Oh, my sweet Lord, I'm so sorry, darlin'! I know how fond you were of him. What happened? Oh my, those ANIMALS!"
The conversation ended. Chloe sat perched on the sofa, sipping her coffee.
"Who was that? I could hear crying," she asked, something instinctively panging inside her.
"That was Shona." Dorothy was ashen-faced. "She said her friend Cuban's been murdered! Something about a green truck…and Kyle?"
The old lady told her everything she'd been able to make out from Shona's garbled call.
"Oh, sweet Jesus, no!" Chloe shot up out of her seat, dropping her coffee cup, smashing it to pieces. "I have to get back. I have to be there!" She ran into the hallway to collect her coat and handbag.
"You look after my girl, y'hear me!" Dorothy ordered. "Don't you let anythin' happen to her as well, OK? You promise me?"
Chloe kissed her on the cheek and hugged her tightly. "I promise. Thank you for everything."
She raced to her car, fired the ignition and roared away, looking in her rearview mirror at Dorothy who wiped her damp eyes with her handkerchief as she waved her off. With her eyes fixed on the long, straight road ahead, Chloe dug her foot hard down on the gas pedal, doing everything in her power to do the two-hundred-mile drive home in the shortest possible time. Every passing minute was excruciating.
The thought that Shona would be next on the hit list filled her with gut-wrenching dread.
Shona lay in the dark of the barn, with no idea how long she'd been there. She'd watched the day darken, the burning sun replaced by the pale coolness of the moon. She felt numb, dazed and utterly exhausted. The hard wood of the bench she’d been carving with Cuban only yesterday was the only real indication of the physical world around her, rough and unforgiving against her crumpled body.
Elbie, equally distraught and angry, had driven her home, with Shona heading straight for the barn, leaving him to explain to the Birds what had happened.
She traced her fingers over the smooth, planed edges of the handrail, remembering her chat with Cuban as she was shaping them. He'd been her best friend, the only man she had ever trusted with her secret. Now he was gone and she was completely alone in the world once again.
In the distance, the dull hum of a car engine caught the breeze, getting louder as the car drove nearer. Shona began to drift in and out of consciousness, with everything around her meaning little to her right now.
A light tapping on the door to the barn jolted her briefly from her daze.
"Shona? You awake?" Ruby's soft voice called through a tiny crack in the door. There was a muffled conversation with a second person, but Shona didn't have the strength to play detective.
The barn door opened a few inches, letting in a shard of light which flashed across her tear-stained face. She squinted and let out a murmur as a figure approached, their silhouette outlined by a halo of moonlight. As they got closer, a familiar sweet scent wafted over Shona, who felt the most conflicting confusion of emotions she’d ever felt in her life.
"Are you awake?" The figure reached out to feel for the bench Shona was lying on, then sat down on the edge next to her.
"I'm so sorry. I heard about Cuban. Shona?"
She opened her eyes and, through her blurred vision, found herself gazing into Chloe's soft brown eyes.
"I couldn't save him! I couldn't reach him in time." Her strangled voice came out in pathetic sobs.
"Oh, darlin'."
Chloe scooped Shona's limp body up in her arms and held her close. All her pent-up emotions came flooding out as Chloe rocked her, comforting her as much as she could. Her heart thumped in her chest as she huddled Shona in her arms, who every few minutes succumbed to a fresh wave of grief and gripped onto Chloe's waist. Chloe held her tightly throughout and, even though Shona was a trembling wreck in her arms, the moment just felt right. She pursed her lips and laid a gentle kiss on Shona's crown to comfort her, feeling her soft blonde hair beneath her nose.
Placing light butterfly kisses on the top of her head, Chloe couldn't resist breathing in the scent of Shona’s hair. She’d stopped crying now and was snuffling softly, buried in Chloe's arms. Slowly, she raised her head and looked deep into Chloe's eyes as she stroked long locks of blonde hair from her grief-stricken, wet face. Shona trembled at her feather-light touch, the haunting rumble of nausea throbbing in her stomach, but right now she was unable to muster any strength to count her way through it. Chloe held her body tighter with every spasm, shushing her and rocking her gently.
Neither of them noticed the barn door open and Tom and Ruby enter quietly.
"Shona? Tom and I think it's best you come stay in the house tonight. You shouldn't be on your own," Ruby said, her own eyes red from crying. She walked over to her bunk and collected up her nightshirt and washbag. Chloe shuffled aside as Tom reached over her and scooped Shona up off the bench. As he walked out of the barn with her in his arms, Shona looked over his shoulder, her tired eyes not leaving Chloe’s gaze.
"Are you alright, Miss Chloe? You were
always good to Cuban. He spoke very highly of you–" Ruby broke off to dab her eyes, turning away as she did so.
"I thought very highly of him too, Ruby. I’d better be getting home. Please tell Shona she doesn’t have to worry about work for at least a week, OK? Promise me you'll take good care of her. Make sure she eats and gets lots of rest."
Ruby promised and walked Chloe to her car. As she turned the key in the ignition, she looked up to the top window in the house and watched as the light was extinguished, then broke down into uncontrollable sobs of her own.
Chapter 62
The following Thursday morning, just over a week after Cuban's death, was Shona's first day back at work. Chloe caught a fleeting glimpse of her as she scanned the assembled workers from her usual position on the balcony during briefing. She looked hollow, her usual sparkly swagger missing. By the time the meeting had concluded and Chloe had managed to race down the balcony steps, Shona had disappeared.
Elbie finally caught up with her on their 10 o'clock break.
"Hey." He sat down, not sure what to say to her. "I haven't seen you eat yet. You gotta eat."
Shona stared blankly at the cold coffee in her mug.
"OK, Shona. Listen to me." Elbie moved the cup out of her eyeline, causing her to glare at him through bloodshot eyes. "You were the best damn friend he ever had and he was yours. I bet he'd want you to get out o'this dump and leave for the coast as soon as possible, like you always wanted. What the hell'ya waiting for? I'm retiring soon and the Birds have each other. Your friend Chloe? Well, let's face facts here, she'll be married off into a rich family soon and will never need to work again, just sit back and enjoy the profits from this place. It's all coming to a new junction. Shona? You hear me?"
One of the passing workers accidentally clipped Shona's back with his tray.
"Watch what you're fucking doin', asshole!" Shona slammed her fists down, sending her coffee cup skidding across the table. The whole canteen hushed and watched open mouthed as she stormed off, kicking the trash can over by the exit.