Shadow Games

by Doug Welch

  Chapter 6

  Dancing Shadows

  We arrived back at the house in time for dinner. Alex had gushed all the way home about Caesar. I’d said as little about Elizabeth as possible. She still talked as we entered the front door.

  “Did I tell you he was ex-military? He was a Seal.”

  “Yes, about three miles ago.”

  “You two should have a lot in common.”

  I sighed. “Alex, Seals are Navy. I was Army Rangers. I doubt we’ll find much to talk about.”

  “Whatever. He's not a college graduate, but he’s very intelligent. He said he’d been frail as a child, and he joined the service to build up his physique. He’s a hunk.”

  I felt happy she bubbled with excitement, because she hadn’t been this enthusiastic in weeks, but I tired of hearing about Caesar, so I tried to change the subject.

  “We need to cook some dinner, get some takeout, or hit a restaurant. I’m hungry,” I said.

  “How can you think about food at a time like this?”

  “Easy. My stomach’s growling. We need to eat because I plan to work on the drawing changes for the company tonight so that I‘ll be free to work with Tom Bradley tomorrow.” My last comment finally brought her to an abrupt silence.

  “Oh damn. Tom. I completely forgot about Tom.” She looked worried.

  “Oops. Okay Alex, out with it, what about Tom?”

  “Well, I sorta promised him that I would go with him to one of his band’s concerts.”

  I frowned. “Alex, Tom’s a good friend of mine, and he’s a hell of a nice guy. I know he likes you. So, what are you going to do?”

  She looked down at the carpet. “Don’t worry Paris. I know how to handle this. I’m not going to back out, but I am going to let him know that I’m taken.”

  “Taken? You’ve never been ‘taken’ in your life. Anyhow, how can you be ‘taken’ when you don’t even know that the one you want to be ‘taken’ by wants to take you?”

  Her head snapped up and Alex stared at me like I’d lost my mind. “I hate it when you’re trying to be logical, you screw things all up. Are you saying that I don‘t have a chance with Caesar?” She looked ready to cry.

  Fat chance, I saw the way he looked at you. Like a drowning man who’d just been thrown a life preserver. I shook my head. “No, I mean yes, I mean, from what I saw, you’ll be lucky to beat him off with a baseball bat. But I am saying that you should be cautious and not set your hopes too high. With all we’ve been through, you’re too emotionally fragile. A disappointment could be devastating.”

  She put her hands on her hips and glared at me. “Are you just talking about me, Paris, or are you thinking about yourself? I think what you’re trying to say is that we are fragile, and we could be hurt. I think you’ve got it bad too, and you won’t admit it.”

  I avoided her gaze. “Don’t be ridiculous. How could I be in love with someone I just met? Love at first sight is just for novels.”

  “I believed that too,” she replied, “but not after today.”

  I didn’t know what to say, so I kept my silence. After thinking for a few moments, I said, “I also think that we’re dancing about another uncomfortable part of what happened today. It almost seems that something is pushing us toward some particular goal.

  “Alex, a lot of weird stuff has happened to us in the past two weeks,” I said, “and this definitely belongs in the weird phenomenon category. But this time, the weirdness gets stranger. If someone or something caused this chance meeting, it had to be set in motion years in advance. The thought makes me a little sick. I want what happened today to be real, to be clean and natural. The thought that someone or something would be manipulating us, is too awful to imagine.” I headed to the study.

  Alex followed me. “That’s horrible, Paris. Drop it. I don’t believe it for a moment. I can’t believe it.” Her tone became belligerent. “But so? So what if something caused it? Something or someone causes everything in this world. In my opinion, if there is a cause, it's done us a favor.”

  I stopped at the doorway and laughed, “Yeah, I guess you could be right.”

  She smiled. “Tell you what, I’ll make supper, and you start working on the company stuff, okay?”

  “Okay. Thanks, Alex.”

  “Hah. I’ll get even – you get to cook tomorrow night.”

  I went into the study and powered up the workstation. The drawing changes that my boss wanted were intricate and it promised to be a long session.

  Alex returned some time later and brought the food. She sat down at the desktop computer and began to browse the Net.

  “What are you doing, Sis?”

  “Oh, I haven’t looked at my emails for a while, and I thought I’d do some research. I won‘t disturb you will I?”

  “You won’t disturb me any more than my own thoughts have. It’s good to have your company.”

  I wasn’t exaggerating. My mind churned with thoughts of Elizabeth in the clearing, walking along the path, smiling up at me. I couldn’t get her out of my mind long enough to concentrate on my work. Every time I thought of her, the warm feelings welled up again. “Damn, I wish I’d thought to get her phone number.” I muttered.

  “What was that?” Alex said.

  “Nothing.”

  “I heard that. Unlike you, Brother dear, I was prepared. Caesar gave me the phone number.” She grinned and waited my reply.

  In my mind, I cringed. I was sunk. If she had the phone number, I’d use it in a heartbeat. “Are you planning on calling Caesar?” I asked casually.

  “Are you kidding? I was planning on that about an hour ago. I was just waiting for a decent amount of time, so as not to appear too eager. Time’s up.”

  “Do you think..?”

  “Yeah, if she’s there, I’ll tell Caesar you want to talk to her.”

  She dialed the number, and we waited. After a moment, I saw the warm smile spread across her face, and I knew she had connected. “I’ll be in the living room.”

  I left the study and went to the living room. I plopped down on the easy chair, sat, and brooded. What if she’s not there? What if she doesn’t want to talk? I waited and waited, until I thought I would burst with anxiety. I waited some more, until Alex walked into the living room carrying the cordless handset.

  “Paris, Elizabeth’s on the phone.”

  Relief consumed me. I grabbed the phone. “Hi Beth.” My voice came out sounding a little strangled.

  “Hello Paris.” That warm voice made a melting feeling start in my middle. I could feel it spreading all over my body. “What‘s up?”

  I was at a loss as to what to say. Should I tell her that I only called to hear her voice one more time? “I was hoping to reach you before you headed back to the hospital. I know we’ve only just met, but I have some business in Russell Springs, Monday,” – liar – “and I thought we might meet for lunch or something. You still haven’t told me the story about how you were adopted. You’re a very interesting woman, and I hoped we might get to know each other better over lunch.” I waited, tensed.

  “Lunch? – Lunch. All right. I think I could grab a bite with you. Where shall we meet?”

  I frantically thought. I didn’t have a clue as to where to take her in Russell Springs. “I’ll drop over to the hospital, and you can decide. That way we’ll be working on your timetable. I know that your time’s precious," – just as you are – "so I won’t be a burden.”

  She laughed. “Paris, I don’t consider you a burden.”

  Her words started that liquid feeling inside. “So, is it a date?”

  “Lunch, a date?” She laughed again. The sound was like music. “Okay, lunch.”

  “We could talk about other things then.” – Like lots of dates.

  “It’s good you called just now, I was just getting ready to leave for the hospital. I’ll see you Monday.”

  “Count on it.”

  “Bye, Paris.”

  “Have a safe t
rip, Beth.” She disconnected.

  “You are in trouble, Big Brother, big trouble,” Alex said. “I sympathize. Right now, I know the feeling.”

  I didn’t reply. I was too suffused with joy. Monday. I get to see her again on Monday.

  I returned to my task, much happier than when I started. Alex resumed her seat at the desktop computer, and returned to her browsing. We worked until it was dark outside, and the crickets were singing. She rose from her computer, and started massaging her legs.

  “Ouch. I sat too long.”

  “I know the feeling. My legs are getting numb too. It’s an occupational hazard, I guess.”

  “It’s late. I think I’ll turn in.” She started to leave, but turned back. “Paris, do you think the prowlers will be back?”

  “No. The cops are patrolling the farm, and they made their presence known to any would-be burglar. If I was a robber, I’d stay away from this house.”

  “But what if they’re counting on that? What if they are waiting until the excitement dies down to rob us?”

  I looked at the darkened window. “If it’ll make you feel better, I’ll make sure the doors and windows are locked.”

  She nibbled her lower lip. “Could you? I know how I sound, but I have a bad feeling.”

  “Consider it done.”

  Her worried mood made me uneasy. I checked all of the doors and windows on the ground floor to make sure they were locked and headed back to the study. Upon entering the room, I remembered about the gun safe.

  I took the key from the desk and proceeded down to the basement, opened the safe, and removed the Mossberg. I checked the action. Thinking for a moment, I loaded two rounds of birdshot followed by four rounds of double-ought buckshot.

  For a moment, I considered jacking a round to the chamber, but thought better of it and shoved another six rounds into my pockets.

  I checked the safety on the shotgun, and returned to the main floor, carrying the gun. If anyone approached the farm tonight, they would find me armed. Ascending the stairs to the second floor, I checked the windows in each of the rooms with the sole exception of Alex’s room, because I didn’t want to make her nervous about the gun. Instead, I called through the closed door to remind her to lock her window.

  In the Army, I was trained in house-to-house warfare, so I knew that windows and doors would not stop a determined aggressor, but the noise of their entry would give me enough time to meet them with some firepower in hand.

  I went back to the study, laid the gun on the desk, and resumed my work. I worked for a few more hours, and then checked the time. It was about twelve-thirty, so I saved my work and shut down the computer. I decided to call it a night, but planned to check the perimeter first.

  Taking the cordless handset with me, I picked up the shotgun.

  I turned off all of the lights on the ground floor and went upstairs to my bedroom. Turning on my bedroom lights, I went back downstairs to the darkened kitchen and waited in the room for a few moments to allow my night vision to acclimate.

  Once I could see, I unlocked and opened the rear door. I crept out of the rear of the house and crouched behind the shrubs. Scanning the rear of the house out of the corners of my eye, I looked for movement or human shaped outlines. There was nothing. Proceeding at a crouch, the shotgun held at port arms, I moved clockwise, around the corner of the house.

  I paused, scanning the yard, again, nothing.

  The front porch light was on and I didn’t want to destroy my night vision, so I reversed direction and went around to the other side of the house. No one was there.

  I congratulated myself on having analyzed the prowlers correctly. They had been warned away. No robber would prowl the front of the house with the front porch light illuminating his face, and since there wasn’t anyone around the sides of the house, it was apparent the sides and rear of the house were clear.

  On a whim, I decided to survey the front. I reasoned that the light shining outward would provide good cover, because it would impair the other guy’s night vision and hide my silhouette. Rounding the corner, I peered out toward the front of the house.

  There, beyond the edge of the lawn, under the trees, stood two figures. The fringe of the porch light illuminated them as it faded into the trees. They were clearly visible.

  I rocked back on my heels, astonished, and remained still.

  I pondered the implications of their presence and their arrogance in flaunting it. I knew that criminals were dumb, but either these two were the stupidest criminals in Kentucky, or they were so sure of themselves that they could afford to advertise.

  As a rule burglars were canny if not very intelligent, and they worked concealed. They would never behave like these people. A break-in armed robber would have looked around for an easier target after we’d called the police the first time. These people were something different, something unpredictable, and that shook me. I decided to wait and observe their actions before committing to the use of the shotgun.

  They stood like statues while they focused on the house. Periodically, one would rouse from his concentration, and execute a disjointed, funny little dance, almost like a primitive witchdoctor executing an arcane ritual. The dance would grow in intensity, until the dancer fell down in exhaustion.

  I observed this behavior for a while, wondering what in the hell they thought they were doing.

  Gradually, a pattern emerged. It looked as though their weird dance-act focused at the building, and it really wasn’t a dance. It looked like their bodies were vibrating with the energy that they put into their efforts, as though they were trying to attack the house from a distance, by dancing it down.

  I’d seen enough. The shotgun was no longer an option. Using deadly force on people, who were dancing on your front lawn, would be considered by the law as manslaughter.

  Shooting unarmed people caused a lot of raised eyebrows and potential jail time. At the most, these people were guilty of trespassing and disturbing the peace. This was a job for the cops, not me. I dialed 911, and moved to the rear of the house in time to answer the call when it connected.

  “Jamestown police dispatch. How may I help you?”

  “This is Paris Fox, out on Route Ninety Two. I’m calling about some trespassers on my property.”

  “Trespassers? Trespassers at one o’clock in the morning? Wait a moment. Mister Fox? Okay, I’ve got it. You called about prowlers on the day before yesterday, right?”

  “Yes, I can’t be sure, but I think they’re back again. But they aren’t doing anything. At least I don’t think they’re doing anything. Their behavior is a little weird.”

  “Can you define weird?”

  “I know it sounds crazy, but they’re dancing around at the front of my property.”

  “Dancing? Are they doing anything threatening? Are they approaching the house?”

  “No, but their dancing looks bizarre. Like some sort of religious cult or something. Is Bob Patterson on duty?”

  “No, I’m dispatching Officer Pike. He‘ll check the property. Please remain inside. Wait until he calls at the door.”

  “Okay, I’ll be in the front living room.”

  I realized that I had better get back inside, so I entered through the kitchen, checked the safety on the shotgun, and laid it on the kitchen counter.

  I walked through the house to the living room, and being careful not to betray my presence, peeked through the living room window. The two prowlers were still there, still performing their jerky dance.

  It wasn’t long before I saw the silhouette of a Jamestown patrol car roll toward the house. Smart, I thought, no lights, no siren; he plans to catch them in the act.

  The officer cautiously emerged from the car. I could see him scan the area. After a moment, a powerful flashlight beam erupted from his position. He swept it across the trees, briefly illuminating the two figures standing beneath the trees. Their dance ceased. They stood as still as two statues. I could clearly see that
the figures were a man and a woman.

  The beam of the flashlight paused, and then continued scanning the remainder of the front of the house. The cop’s behavior puzzled me. The prowlers were easy to spot. What was he waiting for?

  He scanned the flashlight through the area several times, catching the couple in its beam more than once. The flashlight never stopped as he scanned it back and forth. Was he blind?

  He walked around the front of the house, with the flashlight leading the way toward the rear. I saw the light disappear around the corner. The two figures in the front yard never moved.

  I felt confused, and a little afraid. Either the cop didn’t see them, or he was deliberately ignoring them. Either way, it was going to be trouble. I thought furiously about my course of action. If the cop couldn’t see them, then there was something about the prowlers that defied logic. What could have prevented him from seeing them?

  If he was in collusion with them, we were in deep trouble. If he couldn’t see them, then we were in trouble of a different kind. Either way, I had to play this cautiously.

  The light returned around the corner of the house, followed by Officer Pike. He swept the flashlight across the front yard once again, pausing briefly at the two figures near the trees, and switched it off. He walked up to the front door, and knocked on it.

  “Police Officer Pike. Open up.” I decided to act like a panicked citizen.

  I jerked open the door. “Thank God you’re here. Did you catch them?”

  “Calm down. Are you Paris Fox?”

  “Yes.”

  “Mister Fox, could you produce some identification?” My estimation of Officer Pike’s abilities inched up a notch. He was thorough.

  I fished in my back pocket for my wallet, while eying the still figures in the front yard. Pike’s gaze never left my face. I ratcheted my opinion up still another notch. Good cop, I thought, not likely to miss them.

  Pike studied my driver’s license, and he compared it to my face. “Thank you, Mister Fox. May I come in?”

  “Certainly. Let me get the lights.”

  He looked around the living room. “Do you mind if I check the rest of the house?”

  “Not at all.”

  “Wait here please.”

  While he checked, I thought about what I’d seen. Pike was young, younger than me, and most likely, ex-military. He was competent. He was not likely to be working with the people who were still standing in the front yard, so just what the hell was going on around here?

  One explanation loomed unpleasantly simple. I was hallucinating. I’d never hallucinated in my life, but there was always a first time for everything.

  What evidence did I have to prove that these people really existed? Alex had not seen them. She’d accepted my word. My spirits sank low. I might need a doctor. A brief thought of Doctor Elizabeth flashed through my mind, but I mentally cringed that she might think I was crazy.

  Officer Pike walked back into the living room. “The house is clear. There’s no one here. Is your sister upstairs?”

  “Yes, she’s asleep.”

  “I saw a shotgun lying on the kitchen counter. Is it yours?

  “Yes, that is, it was my father’s.”

  “You need a license if you carry a concealed weapon.”

  “The shotgun's not concealed, but I’ll check into it.”

  “You do that. I‘ll make an incident report, and get back to my patrol. Good night.”

  “Thank you, Officer Pike. I’ll be sure to mention to Chief Cunningham how much I admire the professionalism of the Jamestown Police force.” There, I thought; it won’t hurt to remind him that I have friends in high places. The truth was, I truly believed it. They were good.

  “Thank you. Good night.”

  I stood at the door and watched him go. All the while, the two motionless figures never twitched.

  How do they do that, I thought? Normal humans can’t hold completely still that long. It must be a hallucination. As soon as I closed the front door, I heard the patter of bare feet on the stairs. I turned to find Alex peeking around the corner of the living room entry way.

  “Did the cop arrest them?”

  I stared at her in open mouth amazement. “You can see them?”

  “Of course. I was watching from my bedroom. What’s he doing? Why are they still there?”

  I looked outside. Not only were they still there, but they had resumed their stupid dance. I turned back to Alex. “This whole thing is hard to believe, Sis, but the cop couldn’t see them.”

  “What do you mean he couldn’t see them? I saw the flashlight beam. They were caught in it, plain as the day. He couldn’t possibly not see them. What kind of morons are they hiring for the Jamestown Police?”

  I held out a hand as if to fend her off. “Pike’s not a moron, Alex. In fact, he’s a very good police officer. He just didn’t see them.”

  Alex looked at me like I’d lost my mind. “What? What do you mean?” She shook her head. “No. No, that’s not possible. He had to have seen them. Only a blind man couldn’t see them.”

  “That’s true, unless they were making him not see them. Did you notice how still they were after he drove up? As though they didn’t want to make a sound.” I sat in the armchair and rubbed my face with my hands. “I think we’ve been stuck with a new problem. A problem we’re not equipped to handle.”

  “What kind of human can make people not see them?” Alex asked. “Unless...,” her eyes lit up. “Remember those web sites? The ones about the shadow people? It mentioned something about not being able to see them.” She paced the living room. “But those were just a lot of nut cases mouthing off. There’s no such thing as shadow people.” She stopped. “Anyway, Brother dear, if they’re shadow people, how come we can see them? Are we something special? I’ve got a good idea. Why don‘t you just take the shotgun out there and shoot them?”

  I laughed. “That only works in the movies, Alex. In real life, you can’t just shoot anyone you want. You have to be able to prove that you feared your life was in peril. At this point, they are only trespassing. It’s not a shooting offense. – But that does give me an idea. Put on some clothes and tennis shoes. We’re going bird hunting.”

  “Bird hunting at one o’clock in the morning? Who do you think you’re kidding?” She observed the look that I gave her and hesitated. “Okay, I’ll hop to it.” She ran up the stairs.

  While she dressed, I went back to the basement and opened the gun case. Ejecting the six rounds in the shotgun, I replaced all six with birdshot. I kept the buckshot rounds in my pocket, and removed the AR-15 rifle. I checked one of the magazines to make sure it was empty, and slipped the empty magazine into the receiver of the rifle, then I locked the safe and returned to the living room.

  When Alex rejoined me, I got right to work. “I want you to carry this.” I handed her the AR-15. “Don’t worry, there's no ammunition in it, but they won’t know that. Put it in your arms like this,” I arranged the rifle at port arms, and tucked her arm over the stock in the proper position. “Now, when we go out there, I want you to look nervous and scan your eyes from right to left and back, as we walk out toward them.”

  “I won’t have to look nervous, Paris. I’m scared shitless.”

  “Don’t worry, if it doesn’t work, we’ll just retreat back to the house and think of something else.

  “Now, when I start walking forward, you wait until I’m about ten paces in front of you, and then you step off and walk on my five o’clock position about ten paces back, and to my right. Think you can remember that?”

  “Yes, I step off when you’re ten paces ahead, and stay at your five o’clock, keeping ten paces to your right.” She looked frightened.

  “Correct, but don’t forget to scan, and hold the rifle like I showed you. Oh and one other thing. If I yell 'drop'. I want you to hit the ground and hug it. Do not get up until I tell you. This is very important. Can you remember?”

  “Y – Yes.” Her
teeth were slightly chattering.

  “Ready?” I opened the front door and walked out into the yard.

  I made sure the shotgun’s safety was on and lifted the weapon to port arms then stepped off from the porch, straight toward the dancers.

  As I moved forward, I listened for Alex’s footsteps. I hoped she was following the script, but I never looked back.

  I kept walking forward, looking straight at them.

  They had stopped their dance and held still with a half smile, almost like a smirk. I kept walking, getting closer, until I was about thirty paces away.

  I looked them over. The male was a little shorter than me. The female was older, about fifty as much as I could tell, with graying hair and a little overweight.

  “Okay, here’s how it’s going to work,” I said in my loud command voice. “I don’t know how you were able to fool the cop, but we have no difficulty seeing you. You’re going to leave this property, and you’re not going to come back.”

  They stood still, with that same arrogant smile.

  “I can see that you may need persuasion. Well, I’m here to provide it. This shotgun is loaded with birdshot. At least I think it’s loaded with birdshot, in the excitement I may have made a mistake. It’s a special kind of shot that has a wide dispersion,” That was a lie; there was no birdshot like that. I was gambling on the fact that they wouldn’t know it.

  “It won’t kill you, but you’ll be picking lead pellets out of your hide for the next month.” That was also a lie; the shot could take off an arm. I wouldn’t shoot, unless I had no other choice, but then I would shoot to incapacitate and accept the consequences, but they didn‘t know that.

  “I’m going to advance until I am five paces from you, and if you don't leave, then I’m going to shoot you. I plan to aim for your legs, but I could miss, and hit something that you may not want to lose. The choice is yours.”

  I started walking forward. I checked the safety and deliberately let them see me arm the weapon. I brought the shotgun up to my shoulder and sighted down on the female. I jacked a round into the chamber. The clack-clack of the shotgun was loud in the night as I advanced slowly toward them, counting off the paces.

  Their smile was gone. They glanced over to my right and then nervously looked back at me. As I advanced closer, I deliberately lowered the shotgun barrel so that it was aimed at their legs and lower waist.

  When I’d progressed to about six paces, the female broke. She turned and hurried off into the night.

  I swung the shotgun to cover the male and continued forward. After I advanced two more paces. He retreated, but he didn’t run. He continued to backtrack and faded away in the night.

  Now, I had a different problem. I couldn’t follow them without cutting myself off from my support base and risk being encircled. I paused for a moment, and considered my options.

  I lowered the shotgun to port arms, and set the safety. I kept my eyes focused forward on the dark, and called loudly back to Alex. “You stay here in the range of the porch light. I’m going to try and cut them off and take a shot.”

  I moved back and forth just out of range of the front porch light and made plenty of noise as I thrashed around, breaking dead branches just to create some sound.

  When I’d judged that sufficient time had passed, I returned to Alex.

  She was still standing there with the rifle clutched in her hands. She visibly shook, with a wild look in her eyes.

  I knew that look. I’d seen it often enough in the faces of the men I had commanded in Iraq, when the tension was so high you nearly drowned in it. She needed to come down from the rush. I carefully grounded the shotgun, and gently removed the rifle from her hands.

  “It’s okay, Alex, they’re gone.”

  She looked at me, her eyes wide and staring. I wrapped my arms around her and hugged her. I held her like that for a while. “Let’s go back inside.”

  She didn’t move, so I guided her with my hand to her back, and she started toward the house.

  I picked up both weapons and cradled them in a shotgun-carry as we walked to the front porch. Alex just stood near the front door, so I grounded the weapons and opened the door.

  I led her into the living room to the couch, where she collapsed and then I went back outside, picked up the guns, and brought them in. She still huddled on the couch, so I went over, sat down and moved her up from the seat to hold her. She still trembled, so I held her until the shaking stopped.

  “I was so afraid,” she said. “I didn’t know what to do. If they hadn’t left...”

  “It’s over, hon, you need to calm down.”

  “I think I’m gonna be sick.” She leaped from the couch and fled out of the living room.

  I followed, and heard the sounds of retching coming from the kitchen. Knowing what was happening, I hurried over to the sink to support her as she heaved her dinner down the drain. She leaned over the sink, crying, as spasms wracked her body. Her sobs eventually subsided. She splashed water from the faucet on her face and dried it on the kitchen towel.

  “What happened to me, Paris?”

  “It's what happened to most newbie’s in Iraq when they encountered their first firefight. The adrenalin starts pumping, and your body reacts to it. The tension adds to it, and your body has to get rid of it. You did good. The newbie grunts in my squad were trained for it, but they still had to get over it like you did. You had to face it cold. Even then, you’re never really prepared for the terror. It's something you learn to cope with.”

  “Is this what Iraq was like?”

  “Sometimes.”

  She remained silent for a moment. “You know what really scared me?’

  I waited.

  “You. – You were really scary. I thought you were really going to shoot those people.”

  “That’s what I wanted them to think. In Iraq, I learned that attitude could prevent unnecessary deaths. If you can convince your opponent that he is facing a cold blooded killer, who will kill him without hesitation, he’ll back down, saving you the necessity of violence.”

  “Then you weren’t going to shoot them?”

  I shook my head. “Not true. If the situation had required it, I’d have fired without blinking.”

  Alex hugged herself. “I’m confused. Part of my problem is that I was so scared, I wanted to shoot them.”

  “I know, that‘s why your weapon wasn't loaded. Alex, the reason the officers in the army earn the big bucks is because we’re required to make those life or death decisions. The enlisted men and women who work for us are trained to fire if we give the command. We must assess the situation and make that call. The troops have to trust that we know what we are doing. That‘s hard, unless you have confidence in your leaders. Do you have confidence in me?”

  “You know I do.”

  “Good. Then we need to get you to the firing range sometime this week and train you how to handle the arsenal that Dad stored in the basement I also need to teach you how to respond if there is a real threat. But right now, I think you should get some sleep.”

  She yawned, “I am tired. But what about you? Don’t you think you need to go to bed?”

  “Being able to maintain without sleep is something they teach us in the service. I‘ll be all right.”

  “Paris, you’re not in the army anymore. You’re a civilian. This isn’t a war.”

  “Sorry, Alex, but right now, it feels like one. You get some sleep. I‘ll be alright.”

  She yawned again. “I’m so keyed up. I don’t know if I can.”

  I clasped her shoulder. “Trust me. Pretty soon, you’ll be out like a light.”

  She wore a concerned look. “What about you?’

  “I’ll be standing guard. Don‘t worry.”

  “I am tired.” she replied, and her eyelids started to droop.

  In a few moments, she was fast asleep on the couch. I shoved a couch pillow under her head and covered her with a handy afghan. She’d sleep the
night, courtesy of the stress she’d just experienced.

  I locked the front door and turned off the lights, picked up the shotgun and the rifle, and went down to the basement.

  I rubbed the rifle down with a rag soaked in gun oil, and stored it in the gun safe, then unloaded the shotgun, checked the action, and reloaded the gun with two shells. The first was buckshot, and the second was birdshot.

  I locked the gun safe, and went back to the living room. I stationed myself at the living room window, and waited.

  Sooner than I thought they would, I saw them back at the same place, doing the same dance.

  I need Intel. I need to understand why these people are so arrogant and persistent and find out what the hell they think they’re doing.

  I moved to the back of the house and on the way, I jacked the first round into the shotgun. Exiting through the back door, I circled around in the dark, toward the front of the house.

  Reaching their position from the outside edge of the light from the porch, I crouched, studying them as they danced under the trees.

  I decided to take the chance that the sound of the shotgun would go unnoticed by two-thirty in the morning. There was a possibility that a cop cruising by would stop to investigate, but if he did and I was caught; I would pay the fine.

  I looked for a convenient tree branch on the trees around them. There. That one will do.

  I sighted on the branch and clicked off the safety on the shotgun. I squeezed the trigger and was surprised by the boom.

  The tree branch swung down, entangling the pair in the branches. It hung by a sliver. The sliver gave way and the branch dropped on the man and woman. By that time, I’d already rushed their position.

  I saw the man trying to crawl out of the tree limb on all fours. As he emerged, I kicked him hard in the ass, sending him sprawling face down in the grass. I swung the shotgun to the woman and snarled. “Get down bitch! Face down! Spread your arms and legs!”

  The man groaned, but tried to rise. I slammed the shotgun butt into his back. “Don’t move jackass. You spread them too.”

  When they both lay still, I said, “here’s how it's gonna work. I ask you questions, you answer, and I’ll let you go. If I don’t like your attitude, I’ll kill you. After all, the cops can’t see you, so I’ll bury you in the field.”

  “If you kill us, they’ll be able to see us,” the woman said.

  “Shut up!” the man warned.

  I slammed the gun butt into his back again. “Clam it asshole. The lady is speaking.”

  I waited for more, but she remained silent.

  “Okay, I want to know who you are, who sent you here, and what the hell did you think you were doing? Let’s start with who you are.”

  They stayed silent. The only sound was the female crying.

  I grabbed the man’s back pocket, where the bulge of his wallet was, and ripped the pocket from his pants.

  The wallet popped free, and I picked it up. I flipped it open to reveal his driver’s license. I tilted it toward the porch light and read the name and address. “Okay, Walter, at 3356 River Side road, I know where you live, so why don’t you tell me some more?”

  “Keep it asshole. There’s more where that came from.”

  “Walter, are you trying to tell me that this is a false I.D.? That’s illegal, Walter.”

  I turned to the woman. “How about you?”

  “It won’t make any difference, you won’t believe me. I don’t have a purse and can’t prove it.”

  “Okay that’s strike one. Two more strikes and you’re out, as in permanently.”

  The man still sounded arrogant. “You won’t kill us. You can’t afford the noise.”

  “Ever hear of beating someone to death with a shotgun? Or how about bashing your head in, and cutting your throat? Don’t mess with me Walter. I‘m not in the mood for it. Now, who sent you?”

  Silence. “I’m tired of this. I’m about ready to call strike three and forget about two, who sent you?” Again silence. “Okay, strike three, lady, you’re first.”

  “No. Wait. – We can’t tell you. I want to tell you, but I can’t.”

  “What do you mean you can’t tell me?”

  “Shut up!” The man obviously felt the woman revealed too much.

  I smacked him on the head with the shotgun. He went still. I turned to the woman. “Talk to me.”

  “We’ve had an imprint laid upon our minds. Even if you torture us, we can’t tell you. We’re physically incapable of speaking about it.”

  “What's an imprint?”

  “I can’t tell you.”

  “I’m getting tired of this bullshit.”

  “Please. I can’t.”

  “How did you get here?”

  “We were brought by car. We were left here with instructions. We were to be picked up in the morning.” She talked like a robot.

  There is something going on here I don’t understand. I need to know what these people are doing here, but I can’t kill them in cold blood. I have to get rid of them, so what’s next?

  I slipped my belt from my pants, and said to the woman, “put this around Walter’s hands and tighten it.” She moved to comply. As soon as she had his hands secured behind his back, I said, “Now, take off his belt and give it to me.” When I had the belt, I tied her hands behind her back, and finished securing Walter's bounds. “Okay, walk toward the house in front of me.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Lady I’m really getting tired of the 'I can'ts'. Just get him up, and walk to the house.”

  “Please. You don’t understand. It’s unbearably painful for us to go near that house. We’ll pass out before we get there.”

  Now, this is valuable information. “What’s wrong with the house? Why can‘t you go near it?”

  She remained silent.

  “Let’s just test that.” I grabbed her by the hair and began to march her to the house. She started to struggle. She pulled on her hair, crying, trying to get away. I felt some of her hair start to tear. I released her and she lunged back to the tree line, sobbing. By this time, I was starting to become a little sick of my actions. So far, I hadn’t done any damage to these two that a good night’s rest and a warm bath wouldn’t cure. The woman’s obvious panic and agony were starting to become more like torture than a clean effort to obtain information by intimidation. I didn’t want to step over that line, unless it was a clear matter of life or death. “Can you walk to my car?”

  She nodded.

  “Help Walter into the back seat.”

  She helped the man to stand. He was in obvious pain from the blows I had delivered to his ribs, and a little dazed from the blow to the head.

  She supported him as they made their way to the Camaro. I opened the trunk and put the shotgun in it. I removed the tire iron and a length of rope that I kept in the trunk.

  I opened the car doors and made Walter climb into the back seat. I indicated that the woman should get in the passenger seat. Their efforts were awkward because they did not have the use of their hands, but they eventually settled down.

  I looked in the back seat. “Okay. Walter, I’m going to let you both go. I want you to lie across the back seat. Do not move. If you make a move toward me, I am going to hurt you with this tire iron.”

  He lay face down. I tied his feet together, and then tied his feet tightly to his hands. I started the car and drove to the highway. I drove south toward the Tennessee border and Dale Hollow Lake. Once satisfied that the road was far enough away from the farm, in a deserted wilderness area, I stopped the car.

  I motioned the woman out of the car, and untied Walters’s feet. I let him out of the car, and I spoke to both of them.

  “If you take my advice, you’ll start walking to Tennessee, and stay there. If you come back to my home again, or threaten my family again, you can bet I’ll be waiting for you. I’ll drag you both into that house kicking and screaming, and let you rot there.” At that, they bot
h cringed. “Now, start walking, you can untie each other later.” I watched them walk down the road and out of sight. I started the car and drove back to the farm.

  On the way back home, I tried to formulate a plan. Somehow these people had evaded the cops, but I could see them. When I’d approached them they seemed surprised as though they thought they were invisible.

  With two examples, I couldn’t be sure, but it appeared the house was safe from them. Why? I didn’t have a clue.

  Two things were sure, our problems had just entered a new dimension and I need more than ever to teach Alex how to handle a gun.