by Bobby Akart
Instantly, Kaycee became overwhelmed with emotion. She gently set the gun down on the bench seat and buried her face in her left hand. The pain caused by the shotgun’s recoil, coupled with the realization that she’d shot someone, took a hold of her, causing tears to flow.
Then she remembered J.C. Confident that they were alone, she gathered herself and went to his room. She opened the louvered doors to his closet, expecting him to still be barricaded in the old furnace compartment.
She was wrong. He gave her a start as light filled the closet, and there he was, crouched and ready to spring out. As soon as the opening was sufficient, J.C. jumped up and hugged his sister.
“Are you okay, Peanut?”
“Yes, but easy on my shoulder.”
“Okay.” He let go of her and looked past her. Some of the pellets had created holes in the drywall near his nightstand. “Um, did you kill them?”
“No, almost,” she replied sadly.
J.C., on the other hand, was intrigued by it all. He pushed past her and ran into the hallway. “Cool!” he exclaimed as he examined the blood and gore dripping down the hallway wall. For a moment, he stood in the hallway looking back and forth, surveying the scene.
Kaycee walked past him and headed toward the foyer. “Come on,” she began. “We have to barricade the front door with the sofa or something in case they come back.”
“I can do it,” proclaimed the eight-year-old muscleman. This didn’t surprise Kaycee because she’d seen her younger brother slide the furniture across the hardwood floors when it came time to help their mom clean house. “Do you think they’ll come back?”
Kaycee glanced at the shotgun that rested peacefully on the padded window seat. “If they do, they won’t get inside next time.”
Chapter 35
East Clay Street
Richmond, Virginia
Richmond, Virginia, was no stranger to civil war or civil unrest. During the dark days of the first American Civil War, the city served as the capital of the Confederacy. Its strategic location made it a logical choice as several major railways terminated there, allowing the Confederate army to move weapons and supplies to the battlefield.
During the Civil War, the Union forces made several attempts to invade Richmond. It wasn’t until the final campaigns of General Ulysses S. Grant that residents of Richmond evacuated, and the city was captured. It was a momentous time for many reasons. A week after General Grant visited with President Lincoln at the Virginia State Capitol, he was assassinated in Washington by a Confederate sympathizer, John Wilkes Booth.
Also, during the Civil War, residents of Richmond fought one another. The Richmond Bread Riot took place in 1863 as the Confederate economy began to buckle under the strain of war. A series of laws passed by the Confederate’s Congress resulted in confiscatory taxes, leading to hoarding and inflation.
A group of Richmond’s women took their complaints to Virginia’s governor, who refused to meet with them. Their anger turned into hostilities as a mob assembled outside the state house. The crowd grew larger and began to destroy businesses around the capitol in protest. The governor called upon the Confederate army to disperse the angry mob, a heavy-handed response that quelled the uprising.
Now, more than a century and a half later, another angry mob was descending upon the Virginia Capitol. Like their predecessors, they destroyed property and viciously attacked anyone who stood in their way. This time, however, the Virginia governor did not call upon local law enforcement or the National Guard to shut down the mob. They were spread too thin dealing with unrest throughout Northern Virginia. Instead, a local group stepped up and quickly mobilized to meet the mob head-on, at the intersection of East Clay and North First Streets.
The Richmond Guardian Angels were established in June of 2011 as an offshoot of the Guardian Angels of New York City. The Guardian Angels were a nonprofit volunteer organization of vigilantes formed in the late 1970s by Curtis Silwa, a New Yorker fed up with rampant crime in his neighborhood. Working with his friends and family, he began patrolling the streets of their neighborhood and quickly gained national notoriety for stopping crime.
Today, over a hundred chapters of the Guardian Angels have been formed around the world, training their members to make citizen’s arrests for violent crimes. The Richmond Chapter of the Guardian Angels had been credited for reducing crime and cleaning up neighborhoods with horrible reputations, such as Oak Grove, Hillside Court, and Broad Rock.
Thirty-seven members of the Richmond chapter descended upon East Clay Street after one of their members heard the 9-1-1 dispatch reports over their police scanners. Dressed in their white, hooded sweatshirts bearing the red Guardian Angels logo, eagles wings with a shield bearing the Eye of Providence in the center, they descended upon East Clay Street to confront the angry mob.
Tyler had been sitting in traffic, frustrated that he was unable to get through the intersection of East Clay and First. A box delivery truck in front of him obscured his view, leading to his aggravation.
He checked his new cell phone again to see if service had been established. He’d purchased the phones at a nearby Verizon store as it was closing unexpectedly. The mob descending upon the capitol earlier in the day had forced downtown businesses to send employees home early. The salesclerk gave Tyler their new phones as they were locking up, together with his personal assurance that he’d follow up and activate the phones after the store was closed.
He powered on the display again and tried to call the house, but his service was still not available. He slapped the steering wheel out of frustration. Suddenly, two cars parked on the side of the street pulled out of the way, and Tyler decided to fill the gap. He’d purchased a gently used pickup, as the salesman had called it. Tyler didn’t care, as the truck had four doors and was strong enough to tow a trailer with his Bronco strapped down on top of it.
The rig was long, making maneuvering in traffic difficult, but when the box truck moved up slightly, Tyler pulled onto the side of the street to park. It was only a block to his house and he could always return to pull the truck and trailer in front of their sidewalk when it was time to load up.
He exited the truck and locked it. After a quick glance to make sure the Bronco was properly secured, he began walking toward the house. After a minute, he saw what the trouble was.
A large group of rioters was harassing motorists, dragging them from their cars and beating them on the street. Tyler frantically looked around for a police response, but there wasn’t one. Suddenly, from both sides of First Street, the Guardian Angels entered the intersection. The groups clashed in a melee of fisticuffs and clubs swinging at one another.
Tyler was awestruck as he watched the battle unfold. “This is madness,” he murmured as he looked around to determine if he was in immediate danger. The red berets of the Guardian Angels stood out among the crowd as the two groups created a forty-person scrum in the middle of the street.
Over the screams and shouts of the two groups doing battle, Tyler couldn’t hear the shotgun blast emanating from his home. But he sensed his kids were in danger.
Tyler wanted the handgun that he’d purchased earlier to replace the one taken into evidence by the Virginia state troopers. He turned to run back toward his truck, but a crowd of onlookers had emerged on the sidewalk, blocking his path backwards.
He focused on getting to the kids instead. There wasn’t a way to go forward unless he wanted to become a part of the battle. So he looked down the driveway of the house he stood in front of and noticed they didn’t have a fence in their backyard.
Without hesitation, he pushed past the owners, who stood in their driveway, and ran between the houses. At the rear of the property, a short scrubby hedgerow blocked his progress, but with his adrenaline racing, he easily hurdled the bushes. The sounds of the melee were behind him, and he began to feel confident that he could circle around the intersection and get to his home through the backyards.
He sped along the
driveway between the houses, becoming increasingly concerned about Kaycee and J.C. He turned left to run down the sidewalk, but in his frantic state, he didn’t see the person who raced toward him from his right. The two bodies collided, knocking them both into the grass part of the lawn between the sidewalk and the street.
Stunned by the collision, Tyler shook the dizzy spell out of his eyes and searched for the Mack truck that had crashed into him.
It was Angela.
Chapter 36
East Clay Street
Rankin Residence
Richmond, Virginia
Angela dusted the grass and dirt off her leggings before turning her attention to Tyler. When she saw it was him, she managed to laugh despite the tense situation. “Hey, watch where you’re going! I had the right of way!”
Tyler was still doubled over in pain as he rose to his knees to make eye contact. When he saw it was Angela, he simply waved his hand at her and began to cough in an effort to catch his breath.
She walked to his side and helped him stand. “Are you okay?”
Tyler nodded and inhaled. He mustered a few words. “Yeah. Kids. Fighting.”
“I know. Can you keep up?”
Tyler nodded and pushed her ahead of him. “Go.”
Angela didn’t wait for him and ran down the sidewalk, dodging stopped cars and pedestrians headed toward the fighting on First Street. With Tyler in close pursuit, the parents rushed toward the homes located behind theirs. After they reached the fourth house, they turned down the driveway and found the gate to the family’s wooden privacy fence left ajar.
Angela hesitated until Tyler arrived, and then held her index finger to her lips, advising him to be quiet. She stuck her head through the fence and saw the yard was empty. She cautiously pushed the gate open and they eased into the yard.
Tyler reached for the sleeve of her jacket and stopped her. “We’ve got to get over the fence somehow.”
They both glanced around and looked for options. Tyler backed through the fence gate and a large galvanized trash can caught his eye. He hustled over to the trash can and emptied the garbage onto the driveway. Trying not to clank the galvanized steel on the fenced gate, he showed Angela their makeshift stepping stool.
With one final look around, they raced toward the privacy fence that separated their yard from this one. They’d rounded a neatly stacked cord of firewood when Angela abruptly stopped. She pointed toward the ground and then her head turned on a swivel, looking for danger. A woman’s body was lying half-dressed on the wet mulch between the fence and the firewood.
She knelt next to the body and felt for a pulse. The woman’s head had been bashed in by a piece of firewood that lay on the ground nearby.
“Tyler, what’s wrong with people?” asked Angela as she pulled the woman’s clothes over her partially exposed body. Then Angela removed her track jacket to cover the victim’s bloody face.
Tyler had finally caught his breath and had recovered from their collision. Seeing the woman’s dead body gave him a renewed sense of urgency. He reached down and urged Angela to take his hand.
He was trying to urge her on but was also respectful of her feelings for the victim at the same time. “Come on, babe. We’ve gotta get to the kids.”
Angela nodded, leapt on top of the trash can, and hoisted herself over the fence. She waited for Tyler to do the same and they ran hand in hand to the back door. Before they could ascend the steps into the kitchen, Kaycee opened the top half of the Dutch door and waved to them. J.C.’s head popped up into the opening as well.
He couldn’t wait to break the news. “Mom! Dad! Peanut shot somebody! It’s so cool!”
Tyler looked at Angela, who sprinted ahead to see what their kids had faced.
Kaycee opened the door as Angela took the steps two at a time. She dropped to her knees and hugged her kids so hard that both begged for her to let go. J.C. wanted to pull her inside to show her the bloody mess, but Kaycee told her mom about her shoulder injury first.
Tyler arrived and hugged his kids, then turned to Kaycee. “What happened?”
“Dad, these two guys broke in, and I had J.C. hide in the closet. Then I ran into your bedroom and found your shotgun. Um, I knew how to open the lock. I’m sorry.” She hung her head.
Tyler pulled her chin up and asked, “Are you guys okay?”
“Yeah, it’s my shoulder. It hurts really bad from the gun. It’s stronger than the one you taught me to use.”
Tyler closed his eyes and shook his head side to side. He glanced up at Angela, who returned the look of shock. Their daughter had found their gun and shot somebody.
“Honey, let me see your shoulder,” said Angela. She examined Kaycee’s right shoulder and addressed Tyler. “She’s got a shoulder subluxation.”
“The kickback on the Mossberg isn’t as bad as most shotguns, but it’s a lot for her size and frame,” offered Tyler. “Is it partial?”
Angela nodded. “The humerus was partially kicked out of the glenoid socket. If it was knocked out totally, she wouldn’t be calmly standing here.”
The recoil of the shotgun had partially dislocated Kaycee’s shoulder. The shoulder is one of the most mobile joints in the body. It contains many bones, ligaments, and muscles that work together to keep it stable. Because the shoulder is so mobile, it is very susceptible to dislocation. The shotgun’s kick had weakened the arm muscles and forced the upper arm bone out of the socket.
“Do we need to get her to the hospital?” asked Tyler.
Angela studied Kaycee’s shoulder for evidence of swelling and trouble moving the joint. After a moment, she shook her head. “I can take care of it here. Why don’t you go see what happened and take J.C. with you? I don’t want him to see me fix his sister.”
“Closed reduction?” asked Tyler, whose EMT training had provided him with advanced first aid techniques like treating partial dislocations of the shoulder.
“Yeah.”
“Come on, buddy. You show me around while your mom gets Peanut fixed up.”
J.C. didn’t hesitate, grabbing his dad by the arm and pulling him toward the foyer first to show him how the intruders had broken in. While their son gave the blow-by-blow details of the attack and subsequent shooting, Angela addressed Kaycee.
“Honey, I know it hurts. What I’m about to do is gonna hurt for a brief moment, and then it’ll be good as new. Afterwards, we’ll fix you up with an ice pack and I’ll strap it onto your shoulder with an ACE bandage. Okay?”
“Sure, Mom. No problem. Should I bite down on a wooden spoon or something?”
Angela laughed and kissed her daughter on the forehead. “I don’t think that will be necessary. I’ll give you fair warning so that you can be ready, okay?”
“Sure.”
“Okay, you relax and I’m gonna count to five. After five, I’m gonna pop your shoulder back into place. Ready?”
Kaycee smiled and nodded, opting to stare out the back door into the yard. Angela began the countdown.
“One. Two. Three.”
Snap!
Angela expertly replaced the humerus into the shoulder joint while Kaycee’s body was relaxed.
“Hey, you said five!” said Kaycee as she rolled her arm around as if it had never been dislocated.
Angela smiled as she gently rubbed her daughter’s shoulder. “Did I? Oops, sorry.”
Tyler and J.C. emerged in the kitchen. Tyler smiled as he saw that his daughter had regained mobility of her shoulder. “Are we okay?”
“Piece of cake, Dad,” replied Kaycee.
Tyler pulled two chairs away from the dinette set in the kitchen and motioned for the kids to take a seat. He reached into the top of the pantry and pulled out a bag of cookies. “Guys, munch on this for a minute while I talk to your mom, okay?”
“Okay!” the kids said in unison as he set a package of Nutter Butters on the table.
“I’ve been saving these for a special occasion,” he said with a wink.
> Tyler took Angela by the hand and led her into the hallway. When she saw the carnage and blood, she covered her mouth with her hand.
“My god, Tyler.”
“Yeah, no kidding. It seems they were trying to break into our bedroom, where Kaycee was hiding. She shot them through the door.”
Angela walked closer to the wall full of shotgun pellets and bloody flesh. “She hit at least one of them.”
“Maybe both, based on what J.C. told us,” added Tyler. He took a deep breath and exhaled. “Listen, we’ve got to get out of here. These two may have friends and might come back looking for revenge. But it’s not just that.”
“What else?” asked Angela.
Tyler sighed. “You’ve fixed our daughter’s shoulder. It may take some time to fix her memories of what happened here today.”
Chapter 37
The Haven
Blair walked along with the newest additions to the Haven, conducting an orientation for those who hadn’t been assigned a job or who were generally unfamiliar with the many changes they’d made to the property in the last year.
“Our goal, first and foremost, was to create a community in which residents could feel safe from the madness that might be happening around the country. Naturally, all of you share an interest in preparedness and we’re all like-minded thinkers. We understand that the threats our nation faced were real, and lo and behold, our worst fears were realized.”
“Blair,” interrupted one of the women on the tour, “I’m going to be very up front about something. We are the only African-Americans in the Haven. That just seems a little bit, um…” Her voice trailed off as if she was sorry she’d broached the subject.