by Jack Hunt
“Yeah?” Hal said. “What do you have in mind?”
Fourteen - Old-Timer
Hal put a hand up to his head and squeezed the bridge of his nose as a tension headache came on. “Are you out of your goddamn mind? Chester Mansfield is a lunatic,” he said. “A functional drunk at best.”
Abe ran a hand over his jawline. “I will admit he can be a handful but we are out of options unless of course you want to hike fifteen miles through burners.”
“I was thinking of taking one of the abandoned vehicles.”
“Really? After what we just went through?” Miles said.
“There is another option,” Molly added. “The military.”
Wayne brushed past her, chuckling. “Oh, give this woman an award, she is just full of great ideas.”
She jabbed a finger at him. “Hey, you were the one who urged me to drive through them.”
“And? Do you do everything you’re told?” he asked disappearing into the kitchen to rummage through Abe’s refrigerator.
Typical Crawford.
“He’s right,” Miles said. “A helicopter could get us up there and give you a bird’s-eye view without the risk.”
“It could also kill us,” Hal added. “Have you seen the way that man flies? And that’s when he’s sober. I figure by now if he’s still alive he’s two sheets to the wind.”
Wayne returned munching loudly on an apple with his mouth open. Everyone looked at him with an ‘are you kidding me?’ expression. “What?” he asked.
“No, I’m with Molly on this one,” Nate said.
“Of course you would be, Army boy. In fact I’m surprised you haven’t double-timed it over there and asked to suck Uncle Sam’s dick. Hoorah and all that macho bullshit,” Wayne said as he walked in and plopped down on the sofa, taking another huge bite of the apple.
“Uncle Sam is the reason you get to live in freedom.”
“Freedom.” He snorted. “You call this freedom? Do you know how much those assholes take in taxes every year? And they still want more. Please. This country stopped being free the moment those geriatric twerps decided to create the Constitution.”
“Wayne. Do you ever plan on growing up?” Miles asked.
“Not if it means becoming like you dry assholes.”
“Just ignore him. Continue,” Miles said, gesturing to Nate.
“Well, I’m just saying. Maybe we’re going about this the wrong way.” He glanced at Hal. “For all we know they might already have your daughter. Then we go up there risking our necks and who knows what could happen. I say we at least find out if she’s with them.”
“I agree,” Molly added.
“I don’t,” Hal countered. “Look, if you want to go, I’m not dragging any of you along. You’ve got weapons. You’ve got what you need. As far as I’m concerned we’re under no obligation to one another.”
“Do you have a death wish?” Miles asked.
“No, I have a daughter that I care about and I’m going to find her,” he said rising to his feet. Abe placed a hand on Hal’s chest as he went to walk out.
“Hal.”
“No, I’m tired of trying to justify my reasons. It might not be tactically sound, or smart or whatever label you want to slap on it, but my daughter is up there and I need to find out what happened to her. I’m not asking anyone to come with me.” Hal trudged upstairs.
Awkward silence followed until Abe spoke up. “We can’t all fit in that helicopter, so some of you will need to stay here or seek out the military, but be warned… they cut down Frank without a second thought.”
“To be fair, Frank had a gun in hand,” Grady said.
“You want to take that risk, be my guest.”
Wayne smiled. “For someone who works for the government you sure do have trust issues.”
Abe walked over to the window and looked out. “Chester’s home is northeast just on the outskirts of Gerlach. I would need to go and speak with him, so we have room for one more.”
“I’ll do it,” Miles said, stepping forward.
“And the rest of you?”
Nate looked at Molly and Wayne. Wayne was quick to make it clear he was not going anywhere near the military. “We’ll stay here for now.”
Abe nodded. “I would say help yourself to food but I can see Wayne already has.”
“We’re neighbors. Mi casa es su casa.” He continued crunching apple.
Abe rolled his eyes and Miles followed him upstairs where he reached into his closet and pulled out an old backpack. “What’s that?”
“Payment.”
Miles frowned as he unzipped it to reveal bags of weed, cigarettes and alcohol.
“What the heck? That your private stash?”
“Everyone has their vices, Miles. Besides, it’s legal in Nevada now.”
“You buy that from a dispensary?”
“Hell no.”
A broad smile formed. “Deputy Walker. And there I was thinking you were one of the good ones.”
“I am. Trust me on that but that’s not to say I don’t take generous tips from time to time.”
“That’s a big tip. So, this Chester fella, I gather he has a taste for green.”
Abe removed a few boxes of ammo from the top shelf of his closet and shoved them into the bag. He zipped it up and slung it over his shoulder. “He prefers alcohol but he has a taste for anything that gets him out of his head.” He walked out and Miles followed.
“So your boss know about this?”
“In my line of work the left hand rarely knows what the right is doing. There are usually only two of us up here. It’s not like I hand this out like candy. It’s not stolen, and it wasn’t given as a bribe. It was given to me over Christmas, birthdays and a few other festivals. I just held on to it.” He trudged down the stairs. “Sometimes to get things done in this town you have to have a few aces up your sleeve. When folks see the uniform they tighten up like a cat’s ass. This can give me leverage. I like to think of it as legal regifting.”
Miles laughed. “Ah, so you haven’t touched it.”
“Of course not, I’m a man of the law. I have a standard to uphold. And in my line of work you have to stay clear-headed.”
Miles couldn’t help but see the irony. He looked at a few photos hanging on the wall as he came down. “You married?”
“Was,” he replied. “Until I arrested her brother.”
He went into the kitchen, grabbed a few bottles of water and some jerky from the pantry and then approached the rear door and peered out from behind the curtain. “You loaded?” he asked Miles.
“Yeah.”
“You’ve never really fired a gun, have you?”
“And you would know this because…?”
“The way you’re holding it. It’s like you’re holding a stick of dynamite.”
“Maybe it’s the doctor in me. I…”
Abe turned on a dime. “Trust me, doc, I’m all for saving lives. I made a commitment to do that when I took an oath to protect and uphold the law but those people out there are beyond saving at this point.”
“You don’t know that.”
He unlocked the door and looked as if he was readying himself to sprint. He glanced at Miles. “Yes I do. If they weren’t, the military wouldn’t have opened fire on them. Now you ready?”
He nodded.
“Hal. Let’s go.”
Hal appeared, rifle in hand, his face a mask of determination.
“Lock this door after we leave.”
Nate placed a hand on Miles’ shoulder. “Be careful out there.”
He nodded and locked eyes with Molly. She was no longer looking at him the same as she had back at the school. Offended? He didn’t have time to say the right things, and as for what was between them when they were younger, that was long gone. Miles took a deep breath and let it out as Abe pulled the door wide and they bolted out in a full sprint.
Navigating their way over to Chester’s home was a feat in itse
lf. They spent a great deal of time hiding, waiting and darting from building to trailer to vehicle, and avoiding confrontation at all costs. When all was said and done, only three burners lost their lives, none of them were ended by Miles.
“Now listen up, let me do the talking. He tends to get a little antsy at the best of times and right now these aren’t the best of times so he’s liable to shoot first and ask questions later.”
Chester lived on a ranch minutes outside of Gerlach. Wide open spaces surrounded the property that had two homes, and several rusted-out trailers. There were a few dilapidated vehicles nearby, and garbage was strewn across the front yard as if animals had got into it. They hurried up the unpaved driveway and hadn’t got within 50 feet when a round echoed tearing up dust near their feet. “That’s far enough!” a voice bellowed.
“Chester, it’s me. Abe!”
“A likely story.”
Miles looked at him.
“Chester, put on your damn glasses.”
Miles shook his head. “Oh great, he’s shooting at us with bad vision.”
Hal smiled.
“How do you know I wear glasses?” Chester replied.
Abe smothered his face in a hand. “You have got to be kidding.”
Hal shrugged. “I told you he would be two sheets to the wind.”
Abe told them to wait while he approached with his hands up. “Look. It’s me.”
“And the other two?”
“Hal and Miles.”
“Miles? Don’t know any Miles.”
“Chester, would you just let us in? I brought you some alcohol.”
The front door opened. He was dressed in his Uxbridge blue Air Force uniform though it looked soiled and faded by the sun. “Well, why the hell didn’t you say so? Come on, and make it snappy, the world has gone to shits.” Abe beckoned them over and they hurried before Chester changed his mind. As soon as they were inside, they were greeted by the sight of an absolute state. It smelled like someone hadn’t emptied a garbage can in months. He led them into a disorganized living room where the couch and two recliner chairs were covered in all manner of stuff: books, dirty plates, bowls, old VHS tapes and bags of chips. “You’ll have to forgive the mess. I didn’t expect visitors.” He was still rocking the décor from the ’80s, flowery wallpaper and brown carpets. Chester swiped at a big black cat sitting in an armchair and it let out a screech. It shot across the room and disappeared under a table in a kitchen which looked equally messy.
Taking a seat in the armchair, he took out a cigarette and lit it.
“So what have you got for me?”
“Chester. Are you aware of what’s going on outside?” Abe asked.
“Don’t change the subject. C’mon now.”
Abe frowned as he dumped the bag on his lap. Chester looked like a kid at Christmas. He stuck the cigarette in the corner of his mouth, sucking on it as white smoke spiraled up into his squinted eyes. He pulled out a bottle of Jameson Whiskey, plus some brandy and cognac. “Oh there we go. Look at that beauty.” He then fished out a carton of cigarettes. “Not my brand but they will do.” Finally he pulled out a few bags of weed. “Now we’re talking. I must say I am impressed.” He put it all back in the bag barring the whiskey. He proceeded to unscrew the top of the bottle and take a huge hit.
“So what do you want in return?”
“A ride.”
Fifteen - Burning Man
Chester burst out laughing as he rose, then took another swig from the bottle. “Out of the question!” He shuffled out of the room and an old hound dog hidden beneath a stack of newspapers followed him out. Miles looked at Hal, and Hal was the first one after him. “I don’t think you understand. My daughter is up there.”
“Hell, I don’t care if the pope is there. I’m not going.”
“Please. Whatever it costs I will pay you.”
“It’s not a matter of money, it’s the wrong day.”
“What?”
“Today is my day off.”
Hal looked confused as he cast a glance over his shoulder at Abe who shrugged.
“But… you’re retired.”
“Oh I’m tired all right. Tired of people’s bullshit.” He fished out a can of tuna from a cabinet and tore the metal off then scraped the contents onto a plate and set it down for the dog. The floppy-eared hound with sagging chops lapped it up in three bites. “What happened to patience? What happened to respect? You know how many years I served?”
Before any of them could respond he continued his tirade.
“Twenty-six years, and you’d think after all that time people would show me a little respect. Did they? Like hell they did.” He shuffled across the room in his thick brown slippers and collected half a can of beans from his fridge and began eating them with a spoon, a few landed in his beard which was yellowed from smoking. “I’ve been saying the world would end since the early ’90s but no one listened. Oh no, he’s just an old fool whose brain was rattled by one too many explosions.” He looked at Abe and pointed. “And don’t think I haven’t heard what you boys said about me.”
“I—” Abe began before Chester cut him off.
“Now everyone knows it’s true — it’s help me, Chester. Give me a ride, Chester. Three bags full, Chester.” He gulped back more whiskey and set the bottle on a table covered in paper and model airplanes that were in various stages of development. Chester picked up a paintbrush and dabbed a blob of paint on a replica of a B-52 before continuing to eat. “Well, it’s going to take much more than a bag of goodies to persuade this war veteran.”
Hal shook his head and leaned against the counter while Abe tried to convince him.
“You think I can use your bathroom?” Miles asked. All three looked at him as if it was bad timing. “Gotta go.”
“Upstairs, down the hall. Don’t go in any rooms.”
“Got it.” He sauntered out and stepped over the dog who had found a place to spend the rest of the day sleeping. He navigated around piles of old newspapers from decades ago. Why was he holding on to the past?
Although the home was in a state, the familiar sight of ’80s décor brought back a flood of good memories. He missed that era, those days when life held so few responsibilities. He and Hal would take their bikes and go for long rides, smoke a few cigarettes and talk about girls until late in the afternoon. Those summer days were carefree and safe. A time when folks could leave their doors open without fear.
The bathroom was atrocious. It reeked to high heaven with urine. The toilet lid cover was sporting some thick pink carpet-looking material. Why anyone chose to make their toilet look like their floor was peculiar to say the least. He lifted the lid and then nearly threw up as he gazed in. He flushed the toilet to clear Chester’s previous visit and then stared down into a water-stained bowl. It made his skin crawl. As he took a leak, he noticed the curtains were a little feminine for someone that lived alone.
After flushing, Miles opened the medicine cabinet and saw a number of feminine hygiene products. “Odd.” After stepping out he pushed the door open into one of the bedrooms and noticed that it looked like it had been decorated for a young girl, except the posters on the walls didn’t display modern-day kid shows but ones from the ’80s. Not wanting to nose around, he closed the door and went along to the top of the stairs. Miles paused, noticing the main bedroom door was open. He could hear the three of them talking downstairs, mostly Abe and Hal trying to convince Chester.
Curiosity got the better of him and he walked toward the main room. On the wall just before he entered were a number of medals that were framed. There was a message below it: To my husband, I’m proud of you, Martha.
Martha?
He entered the master bedroom. The bed was unmade. His eyes immediately went to the closet where he saw women’s clothes. Miles scanned the room and noticed on the bedside table a folded scrap of newspaper. He picked it up and began to read.
His heart sank.
Right then it all made s
ense.
Miles placed the snippet down and walked out.
Once he reached the bottom of the stairs, he stood in the doorway listening to Chester rattle off his excuses for not taking them.
With a jerk of the head, Miles said, “Guys, let’s go.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Hal said.
Chester had stopped paying attention so Miles motioned Hal and Abe to come toward him. Hal frowned as he walked over. Miles leaned in and whispered into his ear and he looked at him then back at Chester. He nodded then walked outside onto the porch. The sound of the door closing as the two stepped out made Chester look up.
Miles looked at him. “We’re gonna go now. I just wanted to say… I’m sorry for your loss, and thank you for your service.”
Without pausing he opened the door and went outside.
They hadn’t made it 20 yards from the house when the door opened and Chester called out to them. “I’ll give you that ride.”
Hal looked back in astonishment, as did Abe.
“How did you?” Abe asked in a low voice as he walked past him. Miles said nothing.
He wasn’t toying with Chester’s emotions to get him to agree, he meant what he said before he walked out. The news snippet on the side of Chester’s bed was from a post in the Reno-Gazette Journal dated back to 1992. It detailed a fiery crash involving six vehicles, one of which belonged to his wife, Martha, and his six-year-old daughter Lily. In addition to this, each of the newspapers in his home were from the same day. It was as if he wanted to hold on to the smallest memory even if it was steeped in tragedy.
Ten minutes later they followed Chester through the rear door. It led out to an empty swimming pool that was no longer in use. Hal made a comment and he said his wife, Martha, used to do laps in it, and since she’d passed on he couldn’t bring himself to use it or fill it in. He led them through a fence and over to a shabby-looking helicopter. In its day it probably looked stunning, a bright orange, yellow and brown striped beast, but now it resembled a rust bucket.
“Oh hell no,” Abe said.