by Kyle Pratt
Chapter Nine
At the end of another bone chilling day of fishing, Zach walked up the hill still smiling after his rendezvous with DeLynn. It had been brief, just dropping off a few fish so she and her parents, wouldn’t go hungry. She had smiled and they exchanged a quick kiss. That was enough to give him hope for another day.
The moon peeked from behind the nearly solid cloud cover, casting a dim glow on his destination, the shed behind his home. Inside, he stowed the traps beside the net he was making. He stared toward the back where the rifle remained, but did not retrieve it. Why did I take something I don’t know how to use? I’m such an idiot.
Intermittent flakes of snow greeted him as he stepped from the shed. Distant gunfire echoed in the hills. He paused and listened until he was certain it was far away. Then he continued to the dingy, single-wide trailer he called home.
Vicki, standing at the counter, sang to music only she could hear from the white earbuds that hung from her ears. With a knife in one hand she filleted, swayed and sang all at the same time.
Seeing him, she popped one bud out and opened the knife drawer. “I didn’t hear you come in. She passed him a knife. “Did you give fish to DeLynn?”
He felt his face warm. “I gave a couple to her. How did you know?”
She grinned. “I didn’t, but I know how many we catch and that we usually fillet a few less. I know it takes you forever to come in at night and I’ve seen how you look at her.”
Again his face flushed. “Her parents don’t want me around.”
She smiled at him. “That’s okay, big brother. They don’t know you.”
For the next few minutes they worked in silence. When a car drove up the winding driveway, Vicki went to the window. “Bo,” she said with obvious disgust.
Bo and their mother stumbled into the house laughing. Both clutched bottles.
“Where did you get the booze?” Zach asked.
“A new business venture.” Bo collapsed in a seat. He wore a suit with a red tie. “This is home brew. I buy it from the maker, drink some, share some with friends like Carol,” he looked at Zach’s mom, “and sell most of it.”
Clumsily, his mom clutched two glasses and stumbled into a chair beside Bo.
Anger welled up in Zach like venom in a snake. He considered retrieving his new gun and chasing Bo off or, better yet, killing him, but he wasn’t sure the rifle was even loaded or how to reload it if it wasn’t.
As the two continued to sip the booze, Zach turned, retrieved a fish from the bucket and started gutting and filleting. Why do you drink so much? He didn’t have words for the emotions of rejection, disappointment and fear that flooded him. Why did Dad have to die?
Zach stared at Bo. You’re the reason Mom is a drunk. I will kill you someday. He grabbed another fish and with a savage thrust cut deep into its belly.
* * *
The sheriff’s statement confused Caden. “An attack? What do you mean?”
“A gang broke into a home, killed a mother and child, and then killed the husband when he came home from the Library Park market and…”
Caden thought of the men he saw casing the money changer’s stall.
“…then stole his gray Ford van.”
With all the money, jewelry and precious metals in it. “Any more casualties?”
“One deputy was wounded and is in route to the hospital and they’ve shot at several civilians that got in the way during the chase. They’re now in two vehicles, the van and a blue, older model Chevy lowrider. We believe the group is headed out of town….”
“What do you mean ‘believe’? Aren’t you following them?”
“We lost them when the deputy was shot…”
“Oh, sorry.”
“…but based on the direction they were headed and the roads we’ve already blocked they’ll pass your men either on the North Road or the main highway heading west.”
“I’ll alert my soldiers.” Caden walked back toward the armory office and met Brooks at the door. “Dinner will be late tonight.” He briefed the XO. “Give Fletcher a description of the autos and have him alert the sentries and patrol.”
While Brooks talked with Fletcher on the phone, Caden stared at the county map on the wall. “I want you to take second squad and set up a position on the east side of the causeway. Maybe we can trap them on it. I’ll take third squad and set up near the Cowlitz Bridge.
Hearing Brooks talk to Lisa over the phone, Caden pulled out his own. When Maria answered he said, “I may be late to dinner tonight.”
* * *
Caden looked at his watch. He had been standing at the checkpoint on the north side of the Cowlitz River for nearly an hour. Sandbags formed a four-foot ‘U’ shaped wall about him. Two deuce and a half trucks formed a chokepoint at the edge of the bridge beside him. Drivers could pass through, but they had to go really slow.
He stomped his feet in the snow both to get the blood flowing and to relieve the boredom. As he turned to get another cup of coffee, the radio on his belt crackled.
“Caden, this is Hoover. I’m coming up on your position with lights flashing. Please don’t shoot me.”
He smiled and passed word to the men just as the lights of the squad car pierced the darkness.
After Hoover parked and walked up, Caden briefed him. “Nothing is happening.”
Slowly the sheriff looked around and then, with a nod said, “Yeah, I can see that.”
“The deputy that got shot, how is he?”
“Dr. Scott is working on him. We’ll know more in the morning.”
Caden then asked, “Who did the gang kill?”
“His name was Simon Pettit. He did ammo reloading in the market place.”
“I figured it was the money changer.”
“Nope. It was Simon.”
For nearly a minute the two men looked down the road into the darkness and swirling snow.
“Did they get by us?” Caden asked.
Hoover shrugged. “Your perimeter checkpoints didn’t spot them. I think they just stopped somewhere. They’re waiting for things to cool.” He stared ahead. “Or for us to make a wrong move. If I were them, I’d find some house on a side road, set back a way in the trees, bust in quick….” He let the sentence die.
Caden didn’t want to imagine what would happen next but, as silence passed between them, he did.
Hoover stared into the darkness and then turned to Caden. “I’m going hunting. You be careful.”
“Me be careful? I’m just waiting here, you’re the one hunting for killers. Stop for a second.”
Hoover paused. “What?”
Caden hollered to Fletcher, “You’re in charge. Call me if anything happens.” He then pointed at two soldiers, “You guys are with me.”
As the men packed into a squad car, Hoover called over his shoulder radio for one of the deputies to meet him. Together they headed into the night in search of killers.
For over an hour they cautiously visited homes north and east of Hansen. As they left yet another one, Caden said, “The closer we get to my place the more nervous I’m getting.”
Hoover smiled. “From what you’ve told me about Maria and what I know about your dad, they’d be fools to go near your place. Besides, they would call if anything happened.”
Caden knew that was true. Still he thought about the Westmore farmhouse. It was off the main road, at the end of a long dirt driveway, trees blocked the view from many angles. However, it was on a hill and visible from numerous locations, not as secluded and surrounded by trees as the homes they had been checking. Still, he was concerned. What if they see it and decide that is where they want to hide out?
“Your turn Mr. Military.”
“What?”
“To check out the place. A retired couple live here. The driveway is about a quarter of a mile long. You can’t even see the house from here.”
As the others set up a perimeter at the road edge, Caden walked toward the home. Approachin
g the dwelling was a problem. He didn’t want to look like a criminal casing the place, but he didn’t want to expose himself either. It seemed best to approach a residence unseen and check it out. Look for an illuminated room with curtains pulled back, observe, then knock and talk for final confirmation that all was well. However, this house was completely dark. Probably no one is home. But what is open this late at night that an old….
Booms and flashes tore from the house.
Caden dove into the snow.
In the darkness he heard movement and shots zinging past. He crawled with all his might for the nearby trees as headlights lit the driveway and the roar of engines filled the night air.
As the cars sped by, Caden shouted into his radio. “They’re coming your way!”
The gunfire became continuous.
Staying low, Caden hurried through the trees as shots blasted back and forth along the driveway. The sound of crunching metal and breaking glass came from up ahead. He quickened his pace, but could only go so fast in the near total darkness of the forest. Approaching the road, Caden stopped. The van was not in sight, but the lowrider had hit a tree. Behind the vehicle were two people, one man was shooting at the soldiers and Hoover, the other was limp on the ground.
Taking careful aim at the torso, Caden fired a three round burst. The man dropped in a heap.
Within seconds the shooting died down.
“Hold your fire! It’s me, Caden.” He waved as he came out of the woods.
“Glad to see you’re still with us,” the sheriff said.
Caden trotted across the road to the lowrider and checked the first body. Three shots were in a tight group to the chest. The next man had been hit in both the head and chest. His mother couldn’t have identified him.
Standing in the middle of the road Hoover asked, “Are they dead?”
“Yes.”
“Come on then, we’ve got to follow that van.” Hoover left the deputy at the house and called over the radio for backup at that location.
Caden was certain that the deputies would find all the gang members gone and no one alive in the house.
Hoover spun the tires of the squad car in the snow and then with a jolt regained traction. Caden called over his radio for third squad to come in their direction as they gathered speed and pursued the van.
* * *
A gunshot boomed nearby. Startled, Zach dropped his knife on the counter. Abandoning the last fish he had to fillet he tentatively stepped to the window and pulled the curtain back an inch or two.
More shots and muzzle flashes came from the road down the hill. That’s the direction of DeLynn’s house.
Zach looked at his mother asleep in the chair with a half-full glass of booze still in her hand.
Bo tried to stand, but fell awkwardly back in the chair. “Get away from the window boy, it’s dangerous. Best to stay here with your mom and me.”
Vicki never agreed with Bo, but this time she nodded with a worried look.
With a shake of the head the young man strode toward the door, grabbed his coat and stepped into the storm.
Despite the swirling wind and bang of gunfire, Zach heard shouts in Spanish. Curious but scared, he retrieved his bow from the shed. The military rifle might have been a more effective weapon, but he didn’t know how to use it and was much more confident with the bow.
Out of hunting habit, Zach headed into the forest downwind of the noise. Making a large arch through woods he knew well, he slowly came back toward the clamor. It was clear the gunfight was along the road, but he could discern little else. Concerned that he might be hit by a stray bullet, he hiked back up the hill a few yards and moved parallel to the fight. Between the trees he snatched glimpses of a battle between soldiers and civilians.
Zach moved into a better position near the top of a steep slope. He strained to see detail. Only a single light from DeLynn’s home and the glow of moonlight, diffused through clouds, provided illumination. From the tracks in the snow, it appeared the gray van had spun out in a turn and slid off the road. The occupants were using the vehicle as cover and firing on the advancing soldiers. From shouts in Spanish, Zach guessed that the civilians were members of a Mexican gang.
He was relieved that the fighting was not at DeLynn house, but it was close. Despite the fear that churned in his gut, he determined to stay nearby. He was surprised at his determination and relative calm. Perhaps it was because no one knew he was there and that he could hunker down and observe without being judged.
Behind the van the ground was steep and covered in wet snow. The gang hid behind the vehicle, but had no easy route of escape and the soldiers outnumbered them. Using the gully and woods along the road, the military cautiously advanced and, as they did, they gained greater angle of fire.
Zach spotted Caden with Sheriff Hoover and several men in the gully below him. Staying low, three of the men ran down the slope to a cluster of trees near the edge of the road. From there Zach caught a glimpse as they entered the forest. The young man knelt down behind a bush as the soldiers hurried past his position. It was soon clear these three were moving to a location where they could overlook the gang. Zach crawled to a good spot behind a large stump, ready to watch the unfolding battle as the soldiers on the hill with him opened fire.
Two of the gang fell immediately. Three others fled up the steep slope, falling to their hands and knees as they ran in a panic for the cover of the trees.
Movement near the van caught Zach’s attention, but whatever it was quickly disappeared into darkness.
* * *
Hoover was beyond the vehicle on his way into the woods.
Caden called out to his men, “Stay close to them, but don’t be heroic. They’re hurt, probably low on ammo and cold. We can afford to wait for reinforcements before moving in.”
With that, Staff Sergeant Fletcher led the squad into the forest leaving Caden and one soldier behind to examine the van and bodies.
“What’s the ETA on second squad,” Caden called over the radio.
“We’re a couple of miles away…be there in two minutes,” Brooks replied.
The private pointed to the van. A small fire flickered inside. “Should I check it out?”
Gun in hand, Caden stepped closer to the soldier and glanced at the name tag.
“Sure, Private Collins, let’s check it out” With the young man a step ahead they approached the van.
A thunderous boom filled the air.
Caden gasped as he hit the snowy pavement hard. He tried to stand, but couldn’t. Something was on his legs. Heat, like an oven, radiated from flames a few feet away. It was hard to see, harder to think. Caden pushed the smoldering bulk on his legs. It was soft.
The solder with me? “Private, are you okay?” When Caden nudged him again he felt something wet and warm. “If you can, I need you to….”
Movement at the edge of the woods caught Caden’s attention. He squinted trying to see who it was.
The man laughed and said something in Spanish.
Chapter Ten
He’s not a soldier.
Caden’s vision cleared enough to see the young man wave a pistol as he sauntered toward him.
He reached for his holster.
It was empty.
His eyes darted, looking for the gun, but couldn’t find it in the snow.
The man neared. Tattoos covered his neck and face. His eyes were as cold as the night.
Desperately, Caden tried to come up with a plan.
A smile spread across the man’s face. “Beg me for your life,” he said with a heavy Hispanic accent.
Caden stared at him without a word.
Bang.
Caden flinched. Blood flowed from the soldier across Caden’s legs.
“Beg.”
Caden shook his head slowly.
The punk stepped closer and pointed the gun at Caden’s face.
An arrow burst from the man’s chest. With a lurid scream he staggered backwards, fired
the gun into the ground and collapsed in a heap.
Confused, Caden pushed the soldier off his legs and stood. Dizzy, he stumbled as darkness engulfed him.
* * *
Images came in flashes, blood in the snow, soldiers, and a boy with a bow. Gradually Caden became aware of a light shining in his eye. He swatted at it.
“Good, you’re awake.” Dr. Scott shined the light in Caden’s other eye.
“What?” Caden mumbled and again slapped at the instrument.
Hoover stepped into his view. “There was an explosion. We’re not sure whether it was an accident or what, but Simon’s van would have had both gunpowder and primer in it.”
“I remember the blast. The soldier with me?”
“Dead, I’m afraid,” Hoover frowned.
Caden nodded and then rubbed his sore head. Realizing he was on a gurney in the hospital hallway he swung his legs over the side and slowly sat up. He struggled to stand, despite the protests of the doctor but, as dizziness caused him to wobble, he quickly sat in a nearby chair. “How long was I out?” He glanced at his arms and legs. “Was I hurt?”
“You just got here,” Dr Scott said. “I think you have a grade three concussion. You should be fine, just try to remember that I have better things to do than fix your head every time you decide to hit it against something.”
He felt like saying, “Yes ma’am,” but just nodded his sore head. “I seem to remember an arrow.”
Hoover sighed and shook his head. “I can’t decide whether the kid is a hero or a suspect. Zach used a bow to shoot the punk who was threatening you…”
“I’m going with hero,” Caden mumbled.
“…but the road the gang was on would have taken them right past his trailer. It leaves me wondering why the kid was in the woods and why was he armed.”
“I think you’re a little too suspicious, Sheriff.” The doctor smiled.
“The kid has a record and I can see him hiding or fencing stolen goods for the gang.”
Caden shrugged. “I’m just glad he was there. Did we capture any of the thugs and who exactly are they?”
“We haven’t figured that out yet,” Hoover said. “The only one we’ve captured is the one Zach shot.”