by E A Lake
"All he wants," Lucas interrupted, "is to set up a church of the holy goofballs here in Farmersburg." He grabbed my right elbow gently. "Now, don’t get me wrong; I'm as religious as the next fellow. I go to church every three or four weeks. But we already have six churches for about 300 worshipers. I don't think we need another one and I sure as heck don't think we need another one where the leader is...how do I put this nicely?"
"Bat shit crazy?" I added with a large grin. It was true after all.
He arched an eyebrow my direction. "Your words, not mine. But that's the general impression I get here."
We were in trouble of getting shot down and we hadn't even had an audience with her majesty the mayor yet. At the rate we were going, we'd be spending all day in Farmersburg just to get turned away.
"One little church, Lucas," I gently begged. "And it can be on the far outskirts of town. She can't possibly object to that."
He chuckled at my words, knowing who I was referring to. "Oh, she'll have plenty to say about it all. And I'm pretty sure none of it will be all that pleasant. Hell Quinn, you could bring her a box of gold and she'd snub her nose at it. I thought she hated both of her ex-husbands, but they don't hold a candle to you."
"And I still don't have any idea why she feels that way about me."
Lucas rolled his eyes and pushed his cowboy hat back slightly. "You know damn well it was the way you handled the election results back in year three, Quinn. She brought you in to be an impartial observer and you made a mess of things for her."
Crap, I'd forgotten about that. Mostly because I'd never viewed it as a big deal. So what? I questioned a few people about their residency. Big whoop. But somehow Sara had seen it as a slight when I mentioned it at the town hall right before I'd announced the results. Hell, she won by 50-some votes; I'd only made inquiries with about 20 people.
"That was no big deal and we both –"
Lucas cut me off before I could finish.
"Old man Heubner was pissed that he lost," he vented. "Still is to this day. And every town meeting, he refers to her as the alleged mayor of Farmersburg. She ain't likely to forget that anytime soon, old buddy. Not as long as she's alive."
I sighed and looked back at my father. He was still all smiles. If for no other reason, I needed to press on for Chloe and Avellyn's sake.
"Can we at least go talk to her?" I requested.
Lucas shrugged and winked. "Your funeral, brother."
Not exactly, but close enough.
CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED SEVENTY-THREE
"You have got to be joking." Honestly, Sara had replied in a much milder tone than I’d expected. Sure, she was about to deny any of my requests, but at least she was being civil about the thing.
"Sara," I replied sweetly. "All we're asking is to set up a new church on the south end of town. I can't see where that's such an unreasonable request."
She smiled at me and then my group. "No," she answered. "Request denied. Have a nice day now."
I'd already told her what was at stake, how Ed would promise to keep his enthusiasm contained to the church and not let it flow out into the city streets. The city of Pimento and Ed's church would secure all of the necessary materials and provide all of the labor. The whole thing would be the least intrusive event anyone had ever bore witness to. I tried to make it sound as though I were handing her a box of the world's sweetest chocolates, yet still she turned it away like it was a pile of steaming dog poo.
"Did I mention that a little girl's well-being is at stake here?" I figured it couldn't hurt to play that angle again.
She glared at me like a mother about to scold her child. "All at your doing, Sheriff Reynolds. You chose to play hardball with Tony Shaklin. What did you expect the outcome would be? You're a fool if you think I have any intention of helping clean up one of your messes."
"A little girl is at stake here," Morgan said, stepping forward. "She's eight years old; she'll never see nine if we don't do something."
I thought a saw a small crack in Sara's wicked demeanor forming. Maybe female kindness was her weakness.
"First off, congratulations on your recent wedding," Sara replied to Morgan in the nicest of tones. "Second, you're a fool to marry a man like him." That part wasn't so nice, and it was accentuated with a finger thrust my direction. "He thinks only of himself as far as I'm concerned. And his killing prowess is legendary."
Morgan moved closer to the mayor and gave her a genuine smile to try to win her over. I wanted to warn my wife that getting that close to Satan might have consequences, but she knew how to handle herself.
"I think if you get to know Quinn a little better, you'll find him to be a decent, loving man," Morgan said, taking a seat on the mayor's large maple desk. "He's so popular back in Pimento that it still amazes me. Everyone just loves him there."
Mayor Keenan shot Morgan a tight smile and shooed her off the desk. The old bat probably didn't want any of her papers, meticulously piled tall, messed up.
"The people there love him so much for the same reason I despise him. He's good with a gun. I hate violence." Sara pointed directly at me. "Because of his ability to kill, he sends a lot of trouble our direction. What a special talent that is. Isn't that right, Lucas?"
Lucas shrugged from the corner. "We don't have a lot of trouble, Madam Mayor. I suppose three or four situations a year. Most of it can be chased off easily enough."
"The point is," Sara huffed. "The point is Quinn Reynolds is a trouble maker, plain and simple. And he has a lot of gall coming here and asking for the help of our fine town."
Okay, that was too much. I had to say something.
"Fine town?" I mocked. "Farmersburg is as big of a shit hole as Pimento is." I may have started at the wrong end of things. "And I can't count how many times I've had to come down here and help clean up some mess that Lucas needed my help with. Plus, I know you're still pissed about that election misunderstanding..."
"Misunderstanding?!" Sara shrieked as she leapt to her feet.
I waved off her excitement. "Yeah, yeah, yeah. So I asked a few people where they lived in town. Big deal. I just wanted to be sure it was a fair election."
"Strange," she continued, "but they were all members of my family. You intentionally humiliated me in front of my town and my family. You're so evil that words can hardly do you justice."
Oops, my bad. I did recall hassling her daughter about still living at home with four children of her own. It seemed strange to me, even though I knew it was the case.
Sara regained her composure and gave my group a large, toothy smile. "The answer is still no, Sheriff. Now, if you don't mind, I have quite a busy day to attend to. Lucas can show you out."
"What do you need in exchange?" Ed asked, stepping forward. "Just tell us what you need to make you say yes."
"Stay out of this, Ed," I warned. "Don't let the evil queen think we're open to any of her whacky ideas."
I noticed the mayor staring at my father as if she had something in mind.
"Just name it," Ed repeated. "Whatever it is, I'll make it happen."
The corners of Sara's lips curled slightly. Damnit, Ed. What had he gotten me into?
CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED SEVENTY-FOUR
We rode back quietly to Pimento about an hour later. I shouldn't say “we” because that would make it sound like Ed wasn't chirping about the merits of a God-centered life to Petri. The young man had told my father he wasn't a confirmed Christian and hadn't ever been to church. That was something better left unsaid, I thought, because that got the old man going.
I heard a horse clomp up from behind and noticed my mother on the other side of Morgan. Great, what the hell did she want to gloat about?
"Are you upset, son?" she asked sweetly. "You've been awfully quiet since we left Farmersburg."
Her question didn't warrant an answer. She knew what Ed had promised. She also knew I had no choice in the matter because I needed the mayor's approval to get the church established in he
r town so I could have my father call forth his forces.
"First," I began, shaking my head, "I get to come the first four Sundays and drive their carriage to church, acting as their chauffeur. Bonus points to the mayor for creativity by requesting that I dress like one as well, cap included."
"That's not so bad," my mother purred.
"A little humility will do you well, son," Ed added.
I shot him a nasty glare. "Secondly, I get to give the first sermon at the new church. Any ideas how I'm going to handle that, Dad? I haven't even been to a church in probably 10 years."
He nodded as though he had something planned. I almost wondered if he and the mayor weren't in cahoots on that little exercise.
"I've got a couple of good sermons I've been working on this fall," he answered, rubbing his chin. "I'm sure we can spruce one of those up and make it fit your personality."
Oh, I was sure he was loving my misery. He planned for it I assumed. The help with his church was most likely well planned out.
"You're a good speaker, Quinn," Morgan added sweetly. "If you're half as well received in that new church as you are every time you have something to say in Pimento, well, you'll be a huge success."
"The point is," I replied with a great deal of spite, "none of this is of my own choosing. The new church, being a driver, preaching...not one bit of it is something that I would have agreed to if I hadn't been forced into it."
They fell silent, every last one of them. They knew I was right and as a group, I bet they all felt bad for what had been forced upon me.
"The Lord works in mysterious ways, son," Ed replied with a great deal of pride. "He has bigger plans for you than you can know."
So much for him feeling bad.
"Who knows," my mother added. "You might discover you're a great preacher. Maybe you'll follow in your father's footsteps."
Okay, that was two on the wrong side. I glanced at Morgan and she shrugged.
"I was a slave for years," Morgan said softly. "I would have done anything to get out of that place. I prayed that you'd come and save me...us. My prayers were answered. This is the price of the next set of prayers we've been saying. But you have a choice, Quinn. You have everything laid out in front of you. You know what you have to do, or choose not to do. Others don't have that luxury."
And with that reply, I could only nod and agree, even if just to myself, that the cost didn't outweigh the benefit. Hell, it wasn't even close.
CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED SEVENTY-FIVE
We rode quietly as I pondered my future. Morgan had really put everything in perspective for me. Marrying her was the smartest move of my life.
I'd do what was requested of me, what was required. Chloe and Avellyn were worth it. The decision, in the end, was rather easy. All I had to do was take a large, humble pill and swallow it whole. Any man worth his weight would do the same thing.
When I looked ahead a few minutes later, I spotted a rider on a horse approaching. The horse was at full gallop, its mane swaying up and down with each stride. It took a few seconds to recognize the rider, but when I did, I noticed the concerned look on his face.
"What's Ronnie doing coming so fast at us?" Morgan asked. "I wonder if there's a problem?"
I didn't have to wonder. I knew. He was far too casual of a person to look that concerned and work a horse as hard as he was.
"Gun shots in town!" he shouted from 50 yards away. "Two people hit."
Shit. We didn't have a problem, we had a crisis.
We rode quickly as a group. At first, I considered letting Morgan and my mother ride back slower with Ed, but after hearing just a bit of Ronnie's tale, I felt they needed to stay with us for safety's sake.
"It was just a little bit ago," Ronnie relayed. "All was quiet and then bang, three times."
"Who's hit?" I asked as we galloped along.
"Robert and Cooley," he answered a little louder than I would have preferred. "Neither is all that bad; Robert on the inside of his left thigh and Cooley on the outside of his left shoulder."
"Thank God no one's worse off," Art shouted from the rear of our tight formation. "You find the shooter?"
Ronnie shook his head and gave me a strange, tight look.
"You said there were three shots," I said. "But only two people got hit? Who was the lucky bastard that got missed?"
Ronnie peeked back at Morgan before he answered. "Sasha," he mouthed.
CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED SEVENTY-SIX
"The bullet," the nervous, shaken woman stuttered. "It went...like, right past my head. It was so, so close. I could be dead. What would I do then?"
"You'd be dead, Sasha," Morgan snapped. Instantly, my wife looked remorseful and ran to her friend's side. "But that didn't happen, sweetie. You're still alive and we're still all together."
"I've been shot at," I added, rubbing Sasha's trembling shoulder. "It's not all that fun. But I'm glad they missed. Very glad."
I glanced at Ronnie and motioned him aside. As the rest of our group gathered around Sasha, he and I found a quiet corner in the kitchen to speak in low tones.
"Any idea where the shooters were?" I asked, peeking over his shoulder to be sure we weren't overheard.
"Shooter," he answered quietly. "There was only one shooter, Quinn. Audra was out for a walk at the time and she saw the whole thing play out."
What the heck? One shooter and he did it in the open. That didn't make sense.
"Guy was on the north edge of town, kneeling by a tree," Ronnie continued. "Robert got hit first, then Cooley, and only after a short break did he shoot at Sasha. According to your aunt, it almost seemed like an afterthought on his part."
"Semi-automatic weapon of some sort?"
Ronnie shook away that thought. "Bolt action .270; we found the casings by the tree. Not a fast shooter, but really accurate."
That didn't make sense either. None of it made any sense.
"He must have been a couple hundred yards away then," I responded. "Otherwise he could have –"
"Fifty, maybe 60 yards," Ronnie replied soberly. "He could have easily killed every one of them, Quinn. He was close enough to pop Sasha's head like a pumpkin. He should have drilled Cooley and Robert right through the heart from that distance."
I took a step away, leaning against a clean kitchen counter. Maybe Charolette had been helping Ronnie's wife clean again. That would explain why everything looked so neat, clean and orderly in a usually casual kitchen.
"So why don't we have three dead bodies, Ronnie? Why don't we have more than that? This doesn't make any sense."
Ronnie sighed deeply and placed a hand on my right shoulder. "The way I see it, and I could be wrong, but the way it looks to me is that someone was sending a message. They can get at us anytime they want. As long as we don't give them what they want, they can make our lives pretty damned miserable."
I nodded slowly. "Shaklin."
He returned my nod. "Here you thought maybe he was ignoring you, giving you a break while you think his offer over. Well, today only proves that ain't the case. You either do what he wants or he'll get his pound of flesh anyway he wants. Who knows, the next round could have you in the crosshairs."
It was clear that Tony wasn't going silently into the night. But then again, he never had before. Why would the apocalypse be any different?
CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED SEVENTY-SEVEN
Ed and I sat in the living room as Morgan and my mother spoke with Audra about the day's events in the kitchen. I'd already been briefed enough, though Audra did take me aside when I got home and gave me a few extra details.
The man, she said, was nondescript and couldn't be picked out of a group of two. He was maybe my height, probably my weight and wore the same rags almost everyone else did. She hadn't even noticed the gun until it went off the first time, booming in the otherwise calm fall afternoon air.
The hard part for me to accept were his actions afterwards. According to Audra he simply stood, slid his rifle into a soft ta
n sleeve and casually walked into the woods some 20 yards away. He didn't run or trot or even hustle, she added. He walked, as though nothing had just taken place.
"We need that army, Ed," I said tensely. "We need them now; not next week or even in a few days. We need them tomorrow."
For once, he didn't look at me like I was the crazy one. His lined face assumed a serious expression.
"I had Audra send word when we left for Farmersburg," he answered solemnly. "You showed me you'd keep your end of the bargain; time for me to do the same."
"How long?"
He didn't shrug, but he didn't look overly positive either. "Later tomorrow, first thing the following morning. Once they're here, you can send word to Shaklin that you'll want to meet. Don't give him too many details. Tell him we'll meet down by his place though; it'll make it look like nothing's up on your part."
There was a road that ran along the north edge of his property. It was as good a spot as any to meet and stake our claim. I wanted this over, once and for all.
"We'll meet on Shaklin Road late in the afternoon three days from now," I replied. "That will make him feel at home and he won't know what's up until he sees the hoard coming down that road behind us."
"I like it," Ed stated with some extra gusto. "But remember: no guns. Not on our side at least."
My eyes closed as I raised a hand to my forehead. That wasn't a good idea, not with the latest developments.
"People got shot today, Ed," I whispered. "Shaklin uses force; he uses guns. We need to be armed. Can't you see that?"
My father smiled at me and leaned back in the comfy chair. "My son, he can kill as many as he wants, but he'll never win this war. Their ammunition will run out long before my followers do. In the end, good will prevail."