by Kyle Pratt
Bo looked at DeLynn, but remained silent.
In the middle of the driveway, Cruz forced Bo to his knees and shot him in the head.
Chapter Twenty Six
DeLynn screamed.
Zach stifled a gasp as he looked through the scope for a target, but the gang scurried for the car. One of them grabbed DeLynn by the hair and threw her in the backseat. Cruz and the driver were already in. Before he could decide what to do, the Cadillac roared down the driveway.
Zach watched as it turned left onto the main road and disappeared. DeLynn! His stomach twisted into knots.
Remembering Bo, he sprinted to where he lay and pressed two fingers to his neck. The bloody wound was severe enough that he wasn’t surprised when he detected no pulse. What am I going to do? Call the police? No, I need to follow them—but how?
A young neighbor boy stood at the edge of the woods staring at Zach with his mouth agape.
“It’s not what you think. I didn’t shoot him.”
The wide-eyed kid darted into the woods.
Suddenly, he had a plan. Zach raced down the driveway and across the road to the Hollister home. He was about to bang wildly on the front door, but instead paused, drew a deep breath and knocked politely. Zach cradled his rifle and waited.
As he expected, the door cracked open but, when DeLynn’s father saw Zach and tried to shut it, he kicked it hard.
“DeLynn is in trouble.” He said stepping into the house. “I don’t have time to explain. Where are your car keys?”
“What kind of trouble? You’re stealing my car?”
“Borrowing. Get me the keys now!” He brandished the gun in the man’s direction.
“Okay. Okay. Has DeLynn been hurt?” Mr. Hollister slid the keys across a table.
Zach grabbed them. “Call the sheriff and tell them to go to my house. Do it now!” He ran for the garage.
Watching the garage door go up was slow motion agony. Zach squealed the tires backing out and ran off the driveway into the yard before arching back onto the road. Then he pursued the Cadillac, prayed he would find it, and wondered what to do when he did.
* * *
Hoover walked toward the body in the driveway. It hadn’t surprised him when Caden said Bo and Zach knew each other. Zach had been on his radar for years and if there was an illegal sale of alcohol, tobacco or pot in the county, Bo was probably involved. The two were bound to come together.
The sheriff stared at the body, face down in the dirt of the driveway. If anyone was going to supply Zach’s drunk of a mother with booze or drugs, it would be you. But you were always good at keeping your hands clean. I never had quite enough to arrest you.
The sheriff looked over his shoulder as a detective exited the trailer. “What have you found?”
“We have witnesses that saw Zach argue with the victim at the Library Park market a few days ago. A kid saw Zach standing over the body moments after hearing the gunshot. Zach is still missing, along with the Hollister girl and their car. The young man clearly had means, motive and the opportunity to kill Bo. My initial conclusion is the victim came here. They quarreled. Zach killed him, and fled with DeLynn Hollister.”
Hoover stared at the body. “Sounds reasonable, but did DeLynn go willingly, or was she kidnapped?”
The detective shrugged. “The boy’s comments to Kent Hollister make that unclear, but when we find the boy, I’m certain we’ll find the girl.
What did all that cleverness get you, Bo? As the EMTs lifted him onto the gurney, Hoover looked over the body. A single bullet to the head—execution style. The kid has a mean streak. “Why do you think Zach told Mr. Hollister to call 9-1-1?”
The deputy shrugged.
“The boy has a sister, right?”
“Yeah, Vicki. She was at the hospital all night with the mother.”
Hoover stifled his amusement that it was a boy that finally got Bo. From what Caden had told him, he could hardly blame the kid. Hoover thought of his own mother barely hanging on to life in the hospital. If someone treated her like Bo treated Zach’s mom…. He sighed. “Issue an arrest warrant for Zach Brennon and advise that he is armed and dangerous.”
* * *
When Zach spotted the Cadillac it wasn’t difficult to follow. They weren’t speeding, but it was tough to remain inconspicuous in a red sedan with no other cars on the road. They had such a lead that he nearly missed when they turned onto the gravel logging road. Why are they going into the national forest?
Zach parked the car. Think! Think! Why would an urban gang take this road? Where are they going? He had walked this road several times while hunting. Now he tried to imagine it in his mind. Any good map showed the road connecting with two others, that exited in the next county, but those crossed over high ridgelines and were still snowbound. He laughed at the thought of urban gangsters stuck in snow on a primitive logging road. Only the thought of DeLynn, stranded in the cold with a bunch of killers, chilled his amusement.
Assuming they don’t want to go to the next county, why would they turn up this road? In his mind he walked up the road. Almost immediately he recalled the ranger station. Normally, the modern wood frame building would be staffed by a couple of rangers, but with the bad economy, faltering paper money, and failing government, the rangers probably hadn’t been paid and were forced to fend for themselves and their families. He hoped he was right, and they weren’t there. Cruz and the others would kill anyone they stumbled across.
Zach looked in the direction they had gone. How did they find this hideout? Sure, logging roads were in most GPS systems and the station was even marked on many maps. Still it was a stretch to imagine that they had been driving around and found it. Perhaps Bo knew about it, but that seemed unlikely. Driving logging roads was not his style. No matter how they found the cabin, it would be a good hiding place. About a mile off the main road and, he hoped, deserted.
He put the car in drive and headed up the gravel road to a wide spot. There he parked it behind brush and bramble to hide it. Stepping from the car, he looked up the road. I’m sure getting my exercise today. He sprinted into the forest and followed the road toward his destination.
The station sat in small clearing about a mile off the paved road. Sunlight poured down on the simple brown building that served as the headquarters for rangers in the area. Normally, he would go in and talk with the rangers, but not today. In front of the building, the road widened allowing cars to pull off and park. There was only one vehicle there, Bo’s Cadillac.
Okay, I’m here, now how am I going to rescue DeLynn. He thought DeLynn would be safe until they had secured his cooperation. At least, he hoped that would be true—prayed it would be true.
It’s simple really, I either kill them all before they can hurt DeLynn or convince them to stay and not hurt her until I can get help. He sighed. God help me. I know this is all my fault, but…well, help DeLynn, if you can’t help me. I wish Major Westmore was in town.
He sat thinking for several minutes until he determined there was only one way. He hid the rifle in a Vine Maple at the edge of the forest. Then he positioned himself behind a nearby tree and shouted. “Cruz, this is Zach. I hear you’re looking for me. Let’s talk.”
For several moments nothing happened. Zach was about to try again when he saw the door creak open.
Then DeLynn stumbled into the doorway.
Zach could see an arm reaching across to the back of his girlfriend’s head. I could grab the rifle, shoot through the wall, and kill whoever is holding her. He shook his head. No, the others would kill her.
Cruz called from the cabin. “Yeah, let’s talk kid. No guns or your sister dies.”
Sister? They think she’s my sister. He wasn’t sure whether that was good or bad, but for the moment he decided the less they knew, the better. “And I want to talk to my sister.”
“Sure. You first kid. And I want to see your hands.”
Zach sucked in a deep breath. As he slowly let it out he ste
pped from behind the tree into the light, but with Bo’s car between him and the cabin.
With a push on the back of the head, DeLynn lurched forward and Cruz followed. The thug held his girlfriend by her hair.
DeLynn’s face was pale and her cheeks streaked with tears.
“Have they hurt you?” Zach asked.
She shook her head.
“I want to see all of you. Move out from behind the car.”
Zach moved slowly and kept the car between him and much of the cabin.”
“My friends in the house could kill you and we could keep this pretty thing as a prize, but I’d rather do business with you. Bo seemed to think you can get M4s, magazines and ammo for me.”
Zach nodded. He had no idea how he could steal them, but he knew his only option was to agree. “It will be difficult and the soldiers….”
“That’s your problem. I need as many as you can get. Twenty is a nice number. I can give you three….”
“Five days. I’ll need five and let her go while I….”
Cruz laughed. “Four days. That way we will leave while the good people of this community are still asleep or in church—and the girl stays with us.”
“When I steal the guns the soldiers that do the inventory will notice. It won’t take them long to figure it out and come hunting for me.”
“Again, amigo, that is your problem. After we settle a couple of scores, we will be moving on to another town. Maybe you’ll be moving on, too.” Cruz rubbed his chin. “About the scores we need to settle, do you know anyone who is good with a bow?”
DeLynn’s eyes grew wide and her face paler.
Zach shook his head. “I can’t help you with that.”
“Okay.” Cruz smiled, released DeLynn’s hair and put his arm around her. “I don’t want to hurt her. Family is important, but this is business.”
Zach locked eyes with DeLynn. “She is family and I do love her. Keep her safe and I’ll be back on Sunday.”
Placing his hand over his heart Cruz said, “Really touching, kid. You bring me twenty M4s and I guarantee you two go home safe. You bring me nineteen….” Cruz put his hand to DeLynn’s head like a gun. “Pow.”
“I understand.”
“A couple of things I should mention. It’s not smart to follow us on a deserted road in a red car. Since you know about this place, we’ll be leaving. Don’t try to follow us again or we kill you both.”
Cruz shoved DeLynn forward, pulled a phone from his pocket and slid it along the trunk of the car. When you get the guns call the number in that phone. You can be early, but don’t be late and don’t bring the law, or she’ll be the first one to die.” Cruz smiled. “Do the right thing.”
Zach nodded. If she dies, you die with her. “There won’t be any police.”
“Good. Then I’ll see you no later than…let’s say nine on Sunday.”
How late do you think we sleep in around here? A lot of people will be up by then.
Cruz grabbed DeLynn’s hair and backed toward the cabin.
He was reluctant to turn away from his girlfriend, but it was best to be in the cover of the woods before Cruz had a chance to change his mind. Zach retrieved his rifle and raced for the car.
I’ve got to find Lieutenant Brooks and somehow contact Major Westmore and First Sergeant Fletcher. They’ll know what to do. I should have just gone back to the armory when they went up the logging road. The car disappeared around a curve. I’m so stupid.
As he backed the Hollister car onto the road, he still hadn’t seen Bo’s car. They’re taking their time leaving the ranger station.
Twenty minutes later Zach was relieved to see the armory. He rolled down the window as he drove up to the sentry.
“Nice car, Zach. Is it yours?” The sentry asked.
“Where’s Lieutenant Brooks? I need to talk to him.”
“You didn’t hear? He was shot Monday morning and is still in intensive care.”
“Who’s in charge?”
“Sergeant Adams, I think.”
Zach shook his head. The sergeant was just a few years older than him. There was no way he would authorize the kind of operation Zach needed.
He pulled into the parking lot and thought for several minutes. I have two choices, somehow steal the weapons, or go convince Hoover to help me. Two lousy options. His stomach was a churning vat of worry. With all the soldiers gone I don’t think there are twenty rifles in the vault for me to steal. One lousy option. Zach turned the car around and headed for the sheriff’s office.
What else can I do to rescue DeLynn? He racked his brain for another plan, but every time it came down to steal the guns or get help. I’m not going to give them guns. They’ll kill me and DeLynn—just like they did Bo.
By the time he bottomed out the car on a speed bump coming into the sheriff’s office parking lot, he was convinced this was his only option. Parking across two spaces he flung the rifle on his back and ran into the building. “I’ve got to see Sheriff Hoover.”
The startled deputy just inside pulled his gun and shouted, “Drop the rifle! Get down on the ground!”
Inching his hands up, Zach shook his head. “No, you don’t understand.”
With his free hand the deputy fingered something under the counter.
A moment later another deputy raced from the office, followed by Hoover. Both had guns pointed at him.
“Down on the ground. Spread your arms—now,” the sheriff commanded.
Zach fell to his knees and then forward onto the ground.
The sheriff kept his pistol pointed while the other two removed the rifle, handcuffed Zach and dragged him to his feet.
The sheriff nonchalantly holstered his gun, then the two locked eyes. “Zach Brennon, you are under arrest for the murder of Robert Bo Hendricks.”
Chapter Twenty Seven
The sun hung low in the sky as Caden’s Humvee approached the base after the battle with the terrorists.
“Well, look at that,” Corporal Tyler said.
On the corner facing them was a large wooden sign painted with wavy stripes of red, white and blue, along with the words, “Camp Victory.”
When the Humvee turned the corner, Caden saw a huge American flag flying on the roof of the five-story building.
The battle, the huge flag and the time of day all brought to Caden’s mind the words of the anthem, “What so proudly we hailed at the twilight's last gleaming.” He smiled and said, “It’s good to see that the banner yet waves.”
“Over the land of the free and the home of the brave,” Tyler added.
The corporal stopped in front of the main building. Caden jumped out and hurried inside. General Harwich was waiting.
After salutes, Caden said, “With your permission General, I’d like to check on my wounded men that were brought in earlier and brief you later?”
“Three of them were treated and sent on to the army hospital. They’re doing okay. The fourth man didn’t make it.” The general set his hand on Caden’s shoulder. “I’m sorry. Get some rest. We’ll talk tomorrow at 0900.”
Alone in the room that was both his office and sleeping quarters, Caden sighed deeply, walked to the desk and sat with a thud. As he did, he heard a crinkling sound and, from his pocket, retrieved a plastic bag.
He hadn’t forgotten about what he pulled from Peter’s dead hand. He couldn’t forget such a thing. It had just been a busy day.
Childhood memories of Peter and family flitted through his mind. He didn’t know how long he stared into the air thinking of the brother he would never again see, but when he became aware of his surroundings, the sun barely peeked over the horizon.
He turned on the desk lamp and opened the bag. Inside, a sheet of paper was folded around an envelope. On the paper was a handwritten note. Caden took a slow, deep breath and read.
To whoever finds this;
My name is Peter Westmore. I am a sergeant with the Renton Police Department assisting the Seattle P.D. with the
evacuation before the blast. We didn’t know where or when the bomb would go off, but when it did I knew immediately that I was too close. The roads were clogged before the blast. The growing mushroom cloud, storm of dust and snow-like fallout only made it worse.
The doctor at the medical station told me what I already know; the dose of radiation I received is lethal. They wanted to keep me at the medical facility, but I didn’t want to die there. I needed to find my wife and make sure she is safe.
By the time I reached the house it was deserted and I am too weak to go on. Please, whoever finds this, get the enclosed letter to my family in Hansen. The address is on the envelope.
Peter Westmore
Caden unfolded the envelope. It was addressed to Sue. He stared at it and hoped there were words of comfort in it for her and perhaps a message for the rest of the family. Carefully he refolded the letter and returned it to the bag.
He wiped his eyes. How many loved ones had he lost this year? How many tears had he shed? How much pain was there left to endure?
The terrorists killed my brother, killed Private Conner, and six…no seven, others today. They killed Maria’s entire family, Adam’s mother and millions of others I never knew.
He thought of his men, wounded during the fight earlier in the day, and the scars they would carry. Millions of others were burned in the blast, scared by violence or traumatized. He thought of the two girls that ran to the base. Amy and Beth will carry the pain of their ordeal to the grave.
Terrorists, Jihadists, Islamists, Communists in China and North Korea, or gang members it didn’t matter what they called themselves, it was evil, soul-rotting evil. He struggled to understand how it happened that evil men from around the globe had united to destroy the nation he loved. How could evil be so logical, so strategic?
He had no answers.
The sun succumbed to the night, leaving only the feeble glow of his desk lamp to push back the gloom. Darkness ruled his world and, like a contagion, infected him.
He recalled the dead suicidal terrorists who set off the Seattle bomb and the others who died earlier that day.