by Hayden James
“What? Why not?” William barked back. “They might know where Natasha is.”
“These kids are the reason why she is missing. I’m sure they’ve taken her. This is a trap!”
“What are you talking about?” William said to Rachel, the VW camper van moving a slow roll.
“These guys threatened me with a handgun when I wouldn’t give them gas. I ran them off with Eric’s shotgun and chased them through the parking lot before they drove off.
William started to slow the van down. “No! No! No! Do not stop. They are going to kill us,” pleaded Rachel.
William calmly said, attempting to diffuse the situation. “Hon, Natasha went missing while you were chasing them. There’s no way they had anything to do with her disappearance. Maybe they know something.”
“No, no, no. Will, it’s a trap,” cried Rachel, near hysterics again. Dr. Tate grabbed Rachel’s hand and guided her back to the back of the van to get her to calm down.
William rolled down the window when he braked right next to the black Rolls Royce, “Hey guys. Why were you guys waving me down?” he asked.
“We heard a child crying from that direction. You were driving around slowly, we figured that you were looking for them. We only woke up a few moments ago, and we didn’t have time to check it out before we saw your van,” explained the youngster who pointed the gun the day before at Rachel.
“You guys stayed here all night?” Eric shouted from across the van.
“Yeah, we camped here. My grandpa let me use his vintage Rolls so I could take Jake down to Georgia to check on his parents,” replied the young man.
William put the van in park and turned it off. “Show me where you heard the child crying,” he demanded.
The four get out of the van and follow the four youngsters to where they heard the child crying. They walk through a field. William clarified, “You guys heard a child from way over here?”
“Yeah, that’s why we hadn’t checked it out yet. We didn’t know if it was someone who was lost or if it was someone’s child who was just having a bad day. We didn’t know,” the young man said to William. They continued hiking, and William grew more suspicious. What if Rachel was right, and he completely went against her logic?
Finally, the group of youngsters came to a stop. “We heard the cries coming from over there,” the young man said while he pointed to a demolished home.
Eric took a look where the young man pointed. “Oh, that’s the old Smith House,” he said. “They tore down that house several years ago. It was one of the older homes here in Victoriaville. It changed owners, and they tore it down. Let’s take a look.” Eric led the charge toward the house that was left in ruins.
Right away, William began picking up broken ply wood that was scattered all the property to look for his girl. He shouted, “Natasha! Natasha!”
Rachel and Dr. Tate look around the edge of the flattened house. “Where could she be?” Rachel whispered within earshot of William.
Right when William was about to give up hope, Rachel asked, “Did you hear that?”
“Hear what?”
“I just heard a cry,” replied Rachel, knowing that William was hard of hearing since being in the Army.
“Yeah, I heard something too,” confirmed Dr. Tate. “It seemed like it was coming from over there.” Dr. Tate pointed to an area of land at the edge of the property.
Eric chimed in, “I’m not sure where you’re pointing, but I do believe that this property had a well since if was built before the city irrigation system.”
The four of them follow where Rachel said she heard the cries. The four youngsters also follow to see if they could help. Eric led them to the edge of the property of the Smith House where there was nothing but fields surrounding the property.
William inspected the ground, stomping on it and listening for a hallow echo. Rachel said, “I heard it again. The well is right here,” pointing to a hole that was covered with a stack of plank wood. William lifted the wood up and off of the hole to the well.
As soon as the blonde curls met his eyes, he shouted, “Natasha!” She was lying on the bottom of the well, unable to hold her head up. “Look Rachel, it’s Natasha!”
Rachel came over and looked, “Oh my word! I almost did not believe you,” she said. William could tell that she felt relieved.
“How do we get her out,” remarked William. “She’s about fourteen feet down.”
One of the youngsters said to William, “My grandpa always keeps a rope in the trunk. I’ll run back and get it.”
“Thanks, that will work,” confirmed William, grateful that they had a way to get his baby girl out of the well.
“Stay with me,” William shouted into the well. He saw his girl going in and out of consciousness. “We have to get to her quickly,” he remarked.
“She’s got to be dehydrated, going all that time without any water,” concluded Dr. Tate to Rachel and William.
The young man returned with the rope, he sprinted the entire way thee and back and was almost out of breath. “Here, you seven, hold this rope. I’m going down and getting Natasha,” commanded William. He wrapped the rope around his backside and within seconds he repelled down to the bottom of the well. The seven held onto the rope, Eric wrapping it around his waist and holding steady.
When he reached the bottom, he saw how weak Natasha was from not having food or water for nearly a day. “Baby girl, I’m going to need you to hold on tight to my shoulders while I get us up out of here,” he directed.
With the last of her remaining strength, Natasha grasped her hands around the neck of her dad. He held onto the rope and walked himself up the side fo the well, making it to the top. Thankfully, the people holding the rope make a decent counterweight so he could leverage himself up.
Rachel shouted, “Natasha!” as she kneeled down to kiss her. She was weak. “Dr. Tate, would you please take a look at her?” Natasha laid on the floor and Dr. Tate checked her vitals.
“She’s severely dehydrated and very weak. She does have several bruises, but nothing that she will not recover from. Good thing nothing is broken,” explained Dr. Tate. The doctor handed Natasha a bottle of water. “Sip it slowly,” she said.
Natasha took the bottle and drank from it slowly as directed.
Rachel held onto William whiles she watched her daughter drink. The man who pointed the gun at her came up behind her and said, “Ma’am.”
Rachel jumped, she must have still had been frightened from their encounter the day before. “Get away from me,” she blurted.
Wanting to diffuse the situation William soothed, “Dear, they helped us. If he didn’t have the rope and run back to the car and get it, we wouldn’t have Natasha right now.”
Rachel, still stiff replied, “Yeah, and if they did not point the gun at my head, I would not have lost Natasha in the first place.”
“Ma’am, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about,” the young man interjected.
William whispered in her ear, “Let him speak. Please.”
Rachel did not say a word, only looked at the youngster. He started once more, “Ma’am, I am really sorry for how I behaved yesterday. I should have never racked my gun and then pointed it at you. I was by far out of line and you were only trying to help me by letting me know that your store was out of gas. I am very sorry.”
William whispered into Rachel’s ear once more, “People are starting to do desperate things. You need to forgive him. He did save Natasha.”
Rachel, still stiff as a board said to the young man, “I accept your apology.”
“Thanks ma’am. We have to get going. I must get Brett down to Georgia to check on his parents. We still haven’t been able to find gas. Hopefully, we can find some in the next town.”
The group of eight walk back to their respective vehicles. “God! I’m glad this worked out the way it did,” stated William. “Who would have thought we would be met with such grace today?”
R
achel climbed into the passenger seat and replied, “I’m still very angry at the whole ordeal.”
“Uh, Each. Let it go. They are good kids. Spoiled and bratty, but decent. The next ones may not be,” interjected William.
The two vehicles parted with a wave as they drove off in separate directions after exiting the park.
Chapter Twelve
Liam Conner
Residence of Dwight Conner
Townsend, Tennessee
7:35 AM
“Morning Liam, how’d you sleep?” Dwight asked in the kitchen of the main house as he brewed his coffee.
“I slept well, thank you. Is Prue up yet?” Liam asked.
“Haven’t seen her this morning. I’m sure she is finally allowing herself to relax. I’m sure you two went through an ordeal,” answered Dwight. “Coffee?”
“Yes, please! It’s been forever since I’ve had a cup,” replied Liam.
Dwight took his freshly ground beans from his manual grinder and put them in a filter. He hung the filter on the side of the mug, then he went to the fireplace where he retrieved the kettle that sat on a wire mesh suspended over gold and red embers.
After filling the cup with hot water, Dwight handed the mug over to Liam who took his first sip. “Well, this is absolutely amazing,” he announced. “I thought I would never tase hot coffee ever again. I think this is even better than the cup of Joe I’d pick up on my way to my shift at the restaurant.”
“Glad you like it,” replied Dwight.
“Fresh baked cinnamon roll?” Dwight asked.
“Grandpa, how are you making all of this?” Liam said, astounded by the Dwight’s resourcefulness.
Dwight answered, “Spices keep fairly well, so I had cinnamon on hand. I use milk and butter from the dairy cattle that I milk each day. The flour will only be good for about a year, so I’ve been trying to use that up as much as I can. I had the brown sugar on hand. Once I heated the milk to add to the dry ingredients, I made the dough, adding the cinnamon filling before rolling and cutting it. Then I have a sun oven out back that magnifies the sun’s rays to get the oven to a baking temperature. Then I made the icing with milk, butter, and white sugar.”
“This is clearly remarkable,” responded Liam. “I can’t believe that the world as we once knew it has ended entirely, and I am eating cinnamon rolls and drinking freshly ground coffee. My dad has never been more wrong in his life.”
“Look who is up,” interrupted Dwight. “Good morning Prue.”
“Morning,” replied Prue, still appearing to be drowse from the night’s sleep.
“How’d you sleep?” Liam asked.
“I slept well. Best that I have in days,” she replied.
“Would you care for a cup of coffee and a cinnamon roll?” Dwight asked.
“There’s coffee and cinnamon rolls?”
“Of course,” responded Dwight, bringing her a cinnamon roll on a plate over to where she sat at the breakfast nook before making her a cup of coffee.
“Thank you,” replied Prue after Dwight brought her the cup of coffee. “This almost feels like a dream.”
After a few moments, Dwight suggested, “I’m thinking we are going to need to practice our shooting.”
“Yeah, I’ve been meaning to work on my shot,” affirmed Liam. “I’ve gotten rusty. It’s been ages since I practiced at a range. Plus, I’ve been meaning to teach Prue.”
“Great. That’s where we will head after breakfast,” concluded Dwight.
An hour later, Dwight led Prue and Liam over to his outdoor shooting range at the edge of his property, close to the mountain range. As Liam approached the range he saw steel targets spread out up and down a ravine at the base of the range. Walking up to the start of the range, Dwight had built several wood tables to make it easy to load the firearms. Liam was suspicious as two what they would be shooting since Dwight only carried one semi-automatic Bushmaster Carbon 15 M4. Liam liked that gun, but thought it was too much to teach Prue how to shoot it. He would rather teach her how to shoot on a handgun first. Since that is what she would most likely be carrying. Liam did not have a chance to get the handgun that he purchased from Mrs. Grandy, before Dwight took them over to the range.
“Will we be shooting your Bushmaster?” Liam asked at the front of the range.
“Oh, right? Wait here,” replied Dwight. Liam watched Dwight walk along the mountain range until he found a concealed door. Liam saw him going into the mountain, bewildered by the sight, he stood confused and waited with Prue.
“Where do you think he went?” Prue asked, appearing to be just as confused as he was.
“I don’t have a clue,” responded Liam.
A few moments later, Dwight emerged from the side of the mountain with two handguns, a Glock 25 and a Glock 47. His pockets jingled with ammunition.
“Where did you go?” Liam asked.
Dwight answered, “I’ll give you the full tour of it later, but I went into my armory and picked out some guns I wanted to practice with.”
“You have an armory in the side of the mountain?” Prue asked.
“You could say that. Wait until later when I give you the tour.”
Still perplexed and even more so with the caliber of guns Dwight retrieved, Liam asked, “What did you want to shoot?”
“Let’s see. I do need work with the AK-47. It’s a machine gun, so there’s not much to know. Just engage the trigger and off you go, but I need to work on charging the rifle while maintaining a constant grip,” explained Dwight.
“What else do you have?” Liam asked.
“I got my hands on one of Glock’s newest pistols, the Glock 47. It was not available for purchase, but rather released to the US Customs and Border Protection. But I have friends who were able to get me it. I bartered for some supplies. I’m eager to try this one out. I also brought the Glock 17, that I would like you to teach Prue on,” explained Dwight.
“You’ve really increased your collection since the last time I was here,” replied Liam.
“Little do you know,” said Dwight under his breath.
Liam took the Glock 17 and handed it to Prue. They walked over to one of the wood tables and he showed her how to load the bullets by first loading the Glock 47 and having her follow along on the Glock 17. Dwight followed, observing the instruction.
Dwight started off, “Basically, the Glock 47 is a crossover design that incorporates a full-sized Glock 17, which is what Prue has. It’s based on the G45 frame, but the same barrel length as the G17. The G47, one of the reasons why I got it was for the faster magazine changes since the magwell is flared and the Glock Marksman Barrel for enhanced accuracy. It also has been outfitted with Ameriglo Bold sights. It was a gun that tI did not have yet, and it seemed to have some advantages. When I found a friend who could get his hands I one, I became very intrigued.”
Liam interjected, “I’ll show you how to load the gun.”
“That will be useful,” affirmed Dwight in Liam’s instruction.
“The magazine can hold 17 rounds. Release the magazine like so, and put the slide back and catch it on the slide catch. Now the gun is empty,” explained Liam. Prue released the magazine in her gun as well.
Liam continued, “Next, you will load the magazine. Load each round, sliding each one back on top of the previous 9 mm round. Same bullet size as the one I’m loading.” Prue loaded her magazine the exact way Liam showed her.
“Sixteen, Seventeen,” counted Prue.
Continuing on with the lesson, Liam explained, “Now, insert the magazine like this.” Prue followed along.
“Now pull the slide back, keeping your finger on the frame. The gun is now loaded. If you ever want to unload the gun, release the magazine, pull the slide back onto the slide catch and turn it to the right and catch the bullet with your left hand,” explained Liam as he modeled how to release the magazine and catch the chambered round with his left hand. Prue did the same. Dwight observed and appeared to be delighted with t
he instruction that Liam provided Prue.
“Now, but insert the magazine again, we are going to shoot something,” said Liam.
Acting more confidently on how the gun operated, Prue inserted the magazine, putting the discharged round back into the magazine before doing so. She chambered the first round by moving the slide. They walked to where the targets were set up in the ravine, backing up into the mountainside.
“Your arms should be fully extended whenever possible, and keep your shoulders relaxed. You don’t want them up around your ears,” explained Liam. Prue did as instructed, holding the loaded gun pointed at one of the targets. Liam continued, “Now, place your feet side to side, about hip-width apart. Lean your torso forward slightly and keep your weight balanced.”
Liam checked her body position before continuing, “Here’s the important part. Grip the gun tighter than you think you should.” Liam monitored the grip, “Very good. Use the sights to align on the target. You have a front and rear sight. It shows you where the gun is pointed.” Liam took his thumb from this left hand and his index and middle finger from his right hand to mimic the sights on the barrel of a gun. He demonstrated how Prue should line up the sights on the target. “Now, your goal is to align the sights on the target. The more precise you are with this, the more precision you will have in your shot.”
Looking at Prue, Liam could not think of anything to fix, she looked absolutely perfect. “Go ahead and pull the trigger,” said Liam. Prue pulled the trigger and a resounding ding could be heard throughout the ravine. “I guess you have a good shot,” concluded Liam, impressed by her aim.
“I have a good teacher,” replied Prue with a wink.
Anxious to get some practice in, Liam said, “We will practice more with you. Let me get some shots in.” Liam took his stance and aimed at his first target. He missed. He seemed nervous.
Dwight grimaced and said, “Try the next one, Liam. You do seem to be getting rusty. Obviously your dad hasn’t been taking you to the range.”