The Dead Peasants File

by L. Craig Harris

  “Oscar is coming tomorrow to get us,” Sylvia said.

  “Why don't I take you somewhere and get you a new shirt,” Christopher said to Travis. “Then we'll check-in at one of the motels across the street. You can get yourself cleaned up and get some rest. Then tomorrow, I'll head back to Springfield and you guys can go on home. How does that sound?”

  Travis looked at Julia for an okay, then nodded his head. He glanced over. “Sounds good.” He threw his head back and sighed deeply with relief. “Sounds really good.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Christopher could barely get out of bed at the motel Saturday morning. He was sore all over. His neck and back ached with every move. He bought some pain killer in the lobby and limped out to the car with Travis. He offered to stay until the hospital released Julia, but Travis insisted that he get going and make his way home. “You need to get home to your family,” he told him.

  Christopher didn't put up much argument. He could see that Julia was going to be okay and felt Travis didn't need him anymore. He left a little after eight and headed east across Kansas. He prayed his car would make it home. His car looked banged-up, but his body felt it. His neck hurt the worst and he drove mile after mile supporting the weight of his head with his free hand. His head was heavy and it ached to keep his eyes open.

  As he traveled into the morning sun, he found it difficult to stop thinking about how close to death he had come the night before. The helicopter crash had happened so fast it didn't really have time to frighten him when it happened. But now, he kept thinking about how easily it could have killed him. And the sound of the Gatling gun shredding Jim's house would always stay with him. But what haunted him most was the memory of being hit over the head with the phone book. That was going to take a while to get over. He felt as though he had come face to face with pure evil and had paid the price for it. And the look in Charles Morgan's eyes when he was contemplating how to dispose of Travis and him was not going to be easy to forget.

  As he got closer to home, though, he thought less and less about Denver and more about how he was going to win back his wife. He despised the idea of Morgan's tattoo on her – now more than ever – but he was going to forgive and forget and get Rachel and his sons back into his home. He felt a longing for them he had never known before. He wanted them all back together and everything else was just details. When he stopped for gas mid-afternoon in Wichita, he called to tell her he was about five hours out. She seemed really glad to hear from him.

  He pulled into his driveway an hour after dark. There was a strange SUV in the driveway. He pulled up and parked beside it. Before he could get out of his car, the front door opened and Rachel, Stephen and Jason ran out, grabbed him, and hugged him. He wasn't sure who was more glad to see who, but they all hugged and cried in the driveway for several minutes. He even forgot how much pain he was in. Stephen handed him their dachshund to let him get in on the hugging. He had driven all day and now he couldn't even get into the house. That was fine by him. He gestured toward the new SUV, still holding the dog. “Is this your car?”

  “It's our car,” Rachel said. “Do you like it?”

  He raised an eyebrow and nodded.

  “I bought it last weekend. I knew you would approve.”

  “I do. It's very nice.” He limped over and looked into the interior. It was much nicer than any car either of them had ever had before. But he felt a twinge of jealousy that he hadn't been in on the purchase. She had made a major purchase and didn't even need him to sign for it. He let it go. Rachel took him by the arm. “Come on, I've got some steaks on the table.”

  “That sounds great.”

  She led him toward the house. “How was your trip home?”

  “Pretty miserable.”

  She looked at his vehicle and her voice went up an octave. “What happened to your car?” She shook her head. “No, I don't even want to know until you're ready to talk about it.”

  He grinned and nodded. “I'll tell you all about it.” He walked behind her into the house and could see that the door jam was busted where someone had kicked it in. “Was anything missing when you came in?”

  “I think someone took your laptop,” she said. “The front door was kicked in, but we couldn't find anything else missing.”

  “Okay.” He wasn't surprised they had come after it, but he was glad Rachel and the boys hadn't been there when they did. He breathed a silent prayer of thanks. He looked back at Rachel. “How's Jim? Is he okay?”

  “Yes, he's fine. He's pretty tough.”

  “Where is he?”

  “He's in the hospital – and Bo is over at his daughter's place. I think Jim is going to stay with her when he gets out.”

  Christopher shook his head. “I'm so glad to hear that.” He paused. “I can't believe any of us made it out of there with our lives. I was so scared. So many bullets … ”

  “It was over pretty fast. We just ducked behind a car and the next thing I knew, the deputies were loading us in a car

  At the dinner table, the boys woofed down their food and ran to Jason's room to play a video game. Christopher finished his steak and took a drink of tea. “So, are you guys staying here tonight?”

  “Yes, if you want us to.”

  “You know I do. I never wanted you to leave, I –”

  “I know. It's okay. The boys really missed you and I want us to work out our differences here at home where we belong.”

  He nodded. “I'm so glad to hear that.” He looked at her for a moment. “Can I tell you how sorry I am for the way I acted?”

  She shook her head. “Only if I can say it first. I knew you didn't want this stupid mark on me and I let it happen. I was wrong.”

  “No, you weren't wrong. You did what you had to do to take care of your children. No one can blame you for that. We just got caught up in something that none of us expected. It wasn't anyone's fault.” He reached over and brushed her hair from her face, exposing the tattoo. “Oh, believe me, I hate that tattoo.” He pushed her hair back where it was and hid the tattoo from sight again. “But I love you and I'm not going to let it come between us one more day.”

  She got up from her chair and hugged him as he sat, kissing the top of his head. “I love you too.”

  He pulled her face to his own and kissed her. “So, I don't have to sleep on the couch then?”

  “Never again.”

  He rubbed the back of his neck. “I'm really glad to hear that.” He breathed deeply even though it hurt his back to do so. “You just don't know.”

  After dinner, he took a steaming bubble bath and let the heat sooth his aching muscles. He leaned back with only his head sticking out of the water, letting the stress melt and the pain lessen. It felt good to be home – home with his family. He climbed into bed just before ten and turned on Channel Three News on the bedroom television. Jayna was reporting live from in front of what was left of Jim's house. She talked about the fire and the shoot-out. Christopher turned the volume up so he could hear her more clearly. She said two of the Morgan bodyguards had been killed by deputies and one by the homeowner. A deputy had been wounded, she said, but his injuries were not life threatening. Then she talked about Christopher being taken to Denver in the helicopter and being rescued by police officers there. After she signed off, the news anchor back at the studio pitched to a national story about Charles Morgan being arrested and the ongoing investigation and arrests around the country. That was when Christopher felt the most proud. That was when it began to sink in that he had stopped the murders.

  He turned off the television and tried to sleep but could not, even though he was exhausted. Too much adrenaline was coursing through his veins. He couldn't stop his thoughts from racing even after Rachel fell asleep, snuggled next to him. After an hour or so, he got up and peeked in on the boys, who were sleeping soundly. He checked the locks on the doors and windows and looked out at the cars in the driveway. Everything was quiet. He lay there and tried to quit replaying
what he had been through, but couldn't turn it off. Not for a long time. Finally, he drifted off to sleep and dreamed of flying and falling.

  He slept in Sunday morning. Rachel didn't wake him until nearly noon. He was glad no one was expecting them at church. He got up to go to the bathroom, but his back and neck hurt so bad he climbed right back under the covers. He stayed there the rest of the day, watching the news when he wasn't asleep.

  About eight-thirty that night he saw lights in the window and heard voices outside. Then someone rang the doorbell. They had found him. The media had found him. He limped to the door and opened it. Lights shone on him and made him see spots. He covered his eyes with the back of his hand. “I'll give a statement tomorrow. I'm pretty banged up right now.”

  “Just one statement?” It was Jayna, holding a microphone up to him.

  “Hey Jayna,” he said, glad to see her. Then he remembered when he had last spoken to her. “Thanks for calling 911 Friday. You saved my life.”

  She beamed. “Well, then grant me a quick interview and we'll call it even.”

  He hesitated a moment then grinned at her. “Okay, I'll answer a couple of questions.” He straightened his shirt and ran his fingers through his short hair.

  “Did you really think Charles Morgan would have hurt you when you were in Denver?”

  He nodded and thought about his answer. “Yes I did. I felt he would have shut me up for good if he could have.” He paused again. “I don't think I'll ever forget the look in his eyes when he was staring at me. It was very frightening.”

  “And you believe Morgan has been murdering its people to collect their insurance?”

  “I do. I do believe that. Based on what I saw and the list of names that we found.”

  “Will you testify in court?”

  “If they ask me too, yes I will.” He felt a twinge of pain in his back. He backed up a step. “I'm sorry. I can't stand up very long.”

  She dropped the microphone by her side. “Thank you. I hope you feel better.”

  He began to close the door. “I will. Thank you again.” He stopped. “Hey, I've been watching you. Keep up the good work.”

  “Thanks so much.” She turned and looked at her cameraman, then back at him. “One of the networks is interested in me. I think this is the break I've been hoping for.”

  “I'm so glad to hear that,” he said. “You deserve it.” He shut the door and went back to bed.

  At ten, Channel Three News led with Jayna's story and his interview. It shocked him how bad he looked. His eyes were dark and swollen, but he looked like he had lost twenty pounds. His hair was unkempt and his face unshaven. He shook his head as he watched. He should have never agreed to that interview.

  Right after Jayna's story, the newscast joined a press conference with the new chairman of the board of directors at Morgan Retail. Christopher sat up and listened to him. He said they were shutting all Morgan stores and warehouses for at least a week until they could make sure everyone was safe and no one was being targeted. They were providing police escorts to everyone who was on the list that Christopher had provided. And the next thing the chairman said made Christopher shout with joy. He said no one in the company wanted the tattoos except for Charles Morgan. “No worker will ever have to have a tattoo again,” he said. “We'll put the bar codes on name tags where they belong, but none of us have ever liked the idea of making a permanent tattoo on someone's head. We think Mr. Morgan went too far with that rule and we're rescinding it, effective immediately, and we'll pay for any worker to have his or her tattoo removed if they wish to do so.”

  Christopher shouted to Rachel. He grabbed her and hugged her. She said her tattoo was gone as soon as she could arrange it. He praised God for a complete victory. He hadn't been able to sleep Saturday night, but he fell right to sleep Sunday and got the first good night's rest he had had in a long time.

  Rachel took him to his chiropractor Monday morning. He was thankful to be able to get in so quickly. The doctor worked him over and told him his back had been thrown completely out of line by the crash and beating.

  Christopher could walk by mid-afternoon and so he got into his car. There was someone he wanted to go see. He drove through town, noticing how beautiful Springfield was this time of year. Had he noticed these flowers before? It was warm in the car and that felt good to him. He was feeling better. He drove to the county jail and asked to see Dillon.

  Dillon stood and hugged him when he was let into his cell. “It's good to see you again, Chris.”

  “It's good to see you too, my friend.” Christopher held on to his arms and looked him over. “Are you doing okay?”

  “I'm doing fine, but I'm ready to get out of here.”

  Christopher nodded and turned him loose. “Any word on that? On them letting you go?”

  Dillon shook his head. “I haven't heard anything.” He glanced at the door's window. “And it's getting crowded in here.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “They arrested Walter Gray – remember him?”

  “Your boss at the store. Yeah, I remember him.”

  “They arrested him yesterday. He and Matt were both at chow last night. I know they are trying to figure out a way to slit my throat.”

  “We gotta get you outa here.”

  Dillon grimaced. “You look pretty rough. I heard about Jim's house and them taking you back to Denver. They let me watch the news some and I saw that.” He paused. “I wish I could have been there for you.”

  “I appreciate it. Believe me, I was wishing you were with me the whole time.”

  “How's Travis? I haven't heard anything.”

  Christopher nodded. “Travis and Julia are both fine. They got a pretty good scare, but they're okay.”

  “What kind of scare?”

  “Well, an intruder went into their home and took the flash drive. He cut Julia's throat, but missed her jugular. God was really watching over her.”

  “That's awful.”

  Christopher rubbed the back of his neck. “And they locked Travis in a closet when they took him back to Denver. It got pretty rough.” He stopped and shook his head. “But, anyway, he was with me when Charles came in. That man wanted to kill us both, but the police showed up. It was scary, I'm not going to lie to you.”

  “Wow, I should have been there.” He fell silent a moment. “Do you think it's safe enough for Jenny and Amy to come home?”

  Christopher nodded. “Yes, I think so.” He crossed his arms. “Can you call her?”

  “Yeah, they let me call her a couple of times per week.” He shrugged. “You and Rachel?”

  Christopher nodded. “We're fine. She's getting her tattoo off as soon as she can. Did you hear about that?”

  “Yes I did.” He rubbed his forehead. “I'll be right behind her when I get loose.”

  “You're a good man, Dillon. I know they'll see that and let you go.”

  “Thanks, I hope so.” He sat on the bed.

  Christopher leaned against the cell door for a moment in silence. He glanced over. “This is big, Dillon. This is bigger than anything I can imagine. We may have just saved hundreds of lives. I can't even comprehend all of this right now.”

  “I know,” Dillon said. “I don't even know how we got out of Denver alive.” He looked up at Christopher. “I think God was watching over us. I think it's good we had a preacher along with us.” He smiled.

  Christopher grinned back at him. “I think God was with us too.” He inhaled and exhaled deeply. “I better get moving. I'll be back to check on you in a couple of days.” Christopher knocked on the door so a jailer would come let him out.

  “I appreciate it.” Dillon stood back up. “And Chris, I want to tell you something.” He paused. “I'm really impressed by you. You're a preacher, but you're real. You really believe in what you preach and it shows.” He reached out his hand. “I'm glad you're my friend. I just wanted you to know that.”

  Christopher shook his hand firmly. �
�Thanks Dillon. That means a lot.”

  Epilogue

  Christopher walked into the sanctuary just before worship began the next Sunday. He had only missed three weeks, but it seemed like a lifetime ago when he was last there. So much had happened and he knew he had changed. But maybe for the better. Maybe his faith had been tested to its limits and here he was, beaten and battered, but still greeting the congregation at his church.

  Rachel and the boys walked in behind him. The house was full and it was a beautiful sight. He saw families there that he hadn't seen in more than a year. Some he didn't know at all.

  But he knew a couple of men standing near the back very well. He walked straight back to them as quickly as he could get there. He grabbed Travis and hugged his neck. “What in the world are you doing in Springfield?”

  “Well, Julia and I just weren't very comfortable in Telluride anymore, ya know?”

  “I understand.”

  “Anyway, we still own the house here, so we thought we'd come back for a while.” He grinned. “Besides, I heard there was a good preacher here and we wanted to come hear him.”

  Julia stepped up from behind him and hugged Christopher. Her neck was obviously scarred, but the bandages were gone now. She still spoke in a soft voice. “Hey Preacher, it's good to see you again.”

  “It's so good to see you Julia.” Then he turned and hugged Dillon, who had been standing next to Travis. “You got out!”

  “Yes, Wednesday. I agreed to turn state's witness so they let me go.” He turned to a woman and little girl who were with him. “Brother Chris, I want you to meet my wife Jenny. And this is Amy.”

  He shook both of their hands. “It's so good to meet you. I've heard so much about you.” He looked at Jenny. “And I want to thank you for letting me borrow Dillon last week. He saved my life several times.”

  Jenny looked down, a little embarrassed. “I'm proud of him too.”

  “You should be. You should be.” He turned to Travis. “I can't believe we're all here together again.”