by A P Bateman
“That’s far enough!” The voice made Stone spin around and he saw Beth, the pump action shotgun they’d captured from the men outside her office held firmly and competently in her hands. “I’m sorry Rob. Let him go.” She looked past Stone at Big Dave. “We have a deal.”
“Beth…” Stone said, turning to see Big Dave limping away towards the forest.
“I’m sorry…”
Stone darted left as the shotgun flared in Beth’s hands. Instantly, she jacked the next round with a click-click that could strike as much fear in a person as the sound of the blast. He kept moving, but he also knew Beth, and she was too good. She knew how to lead with the weapon, how to judge movement, calculate adjustments and she knew Stone. She knew he would go for the Mustang and she knew if he did, then it was more than enough cover at that range to stop or slow the BB pellets, and with the engine running and the door open he would be out of range a few seconds after he floored the throttle.
The further Stone ran away from the Mustang and the building, the darker it got. There were trees on the grassy patch, the same trees he’d observed her kissing Bart Conrad from. He still had a single bullet left, and Beth had the light on her back, which gave him the advantage. He could use the trees as cover and take a steady aim. He had the range advantage over the shotgun and the .357 magnum was an inherently accurate bullet. But Beth seemed to figure this out too and fired, a few stray pellets on the outside of the spread pattern catching Stone down the side of his left leg. He recoiled in pain and fell, but rolled several times and got back to his feet. He knew all that mattered was to keep moving. Stone was nearing the thick trunk of the first welcome tree when he heard the shout. Piercing, desperate.
“Stop! Stop shooting…” Josh’s voice was silenced by the gunshot. An ominous void of absolute stillness followed in the wake of the shotgun’s report.
Stone turned and surveyed the scene. Beth dropped the shotgun and it clattered on the loose gravel, shattering the silence. She stood over him, his body still and twisted on the ground by the open passenger door of the Mustang. Stone turned back and walked towards them, the pistol held out in front of him, the sights capturing the woman’s anguish and pain. He lowered the weapon, his finger still on the trigger and taking up a little pressure.
Beth crouched down and cradled her son’s head in her arms. “Oh God no! Oh God what have I done?” she wailed. Josh’s blood covering her, soaking her shirt and covering the gold star pinned above her left breast. She hugged him closely. “Oh no, oh no, oh no…”
“Mom…” Josh’s voice rattled, blood filling his throat. “Mom…” There was a gargle as the boy spoke his final word and slumped into his mother’s arms a final time. His head resting still against the same breasts that would have nurtured him in the beginning of life, cushioning his head at the end.
“Oh Josh, I’m so sorry… My darling, beautiful boy, I’m so sorry…” she sobbed.
Stone bent down and picked up the shotgun. He didn’t say anything to Beth, she wouldn’t have heard him anyway. He tucked the revolver into his waistband and strode away in the direction of the forest.
39
The forest was dark and damp. The night had left a heavy dew and it dripped through the leaves and branches, dropped heavily to the forest floor, tapping upon the fallen pine needles and leaves left un-mulched from the fall.
Stone closed his eyes as he entered the thick belt of trees. He listened intently, breathed slowly and steadily. There were sounds to the forest. The dripping dew for one, the occasional call or shriek, owls hunting, rodents and other small ground game being hunted. Deer holed up at night, tucked themselves down into bracken or grass, lay alongside fallen trees. They didn’t call, and they didn’t move. Bears were the same, daytime movers. Coyote, wolves and foxes moved at night, but they were not heavy footed. But Stone could hear movement, scrabbling and falling. Branches whipping, fallen sticks snapping under foot and leaves crunching. With his eyes closed, his breathing steady and controlled, Stone could picture Big Dave lumbering his two-fifty-pound frame through the forest and up the slope a hundred metres ahead of him.
Stone opened his eyes and moved. Despite his aching muscles, cracked ribs and the scattering of BB pellets that had broken the skin of his left leg, he was still more agile than Big Dave Conrad, and he was a hell of a lot fitter. He headed out in a big circle away from the sound. He made good progress and soon found it possible to jog as the incline decreased and the forest plateaued for a short distance. He brought his turn inwards, maintaining his pace. After a quarter mile, he stopped, crouched low, closed his eyes once more and listened. Once the natural sounds of the forest made a pattern, he could pick out the heavy-footed sound once more. Only now, the pace was slower.
And closer.
Stone made his way in a straight line, slowly and cautiously picking his way through the trees and over the fallen limbs and rotting husks of trees criss-crossing the ground. The light was breaking through, and where he could previously only see the next tree ahead, he could now see the next ten.
Big Dave came into view, cutting across Stone’s path. He was limping. Stone had noticed this in the parking lot and realised that either a bullet or fragments must have penetrated the truck’s engine and floor pan wounding the man in his leg.
There was no sign of the pistol he had fired earlier, but that wasn’t to say he wasn’t armed.
“End of the line,” Stone said, the shotgun aimed at him.
Conrad stopped walking. He was breathing heavily. His body seemed to sag as he looked at Stone, or maybe it was the shotgun.
“Best be getting on with it then,” he sneered.
Stone walked up to him and for a moment the two men stared at one another. Big Dave looked away first. Stone swung the shotgun and broke the man’s jaw. Big Dave fell to the ground, but stopped himself sprawling, planting his hands down and holding himself on all fours. Stone smashed the butt down crushing the man’s right hand. Big Dave screamed, clutched his hand and rolled onto his back. His jaw lolled open, flapping through the screaming. Stone pushed the muzzle of the shotgun into the man’s throat, bent down and searched his pockets, then pulled his jacket open and checked for a weapon. He was clean.
“And we’re done,” Stone said. “Time to pay your dues.”
Conrad slurred through broken teeth and shattered bone. “Get… on… with… it!”
“Get up,” Stone growled. “Get up, turn around and start walking.”
40
Beth was still cradling her son’s body when Stone arrived back with Big Dave Conrad. She was still there, sobbing after Stone had locked up Dave Conrad and left him handcuffed to the bars on the inside of the cell.
Stone soothed a hand over her shoulders. She was crying, but she still cradled the boy and he imagined she still would as the body stiffened and grew cold. He bent down and kissed her on the forehead, but there were no words to be said and he got into the Mustang, its engine still idling.
The FBI had arrived along with the State Police and a whole convoy of paramedics in large ambulances and smaller station wagons. Stone had introduced himself to the lead agent, the man from Portland he’d spoken to on the phone up at Claude Conrad’s place. He had given the agent the facts. There was a lot to sift through, the agent would ultimately decide what to scrutinize and what to let go. There were over one-hundred and fifty witnesses to kick the investigation off, which is an investigator’s dream when building a case. Stone suggested using Big Dave and the airstrip to set up a sting for the various doctor’s and their theatre assistants involved. He handed the lead agent the key to Claude Conrad’s safe and told him where he would find the paperwork. He also told the man about an estimated five-million-dollar fortune stacked in bricks of twenties, fifties and hundreds. After Stone had left his cell phone and office numbers, as well as his email address he got back into his Mustang and fired up the strip. The guards had disappeared from the hotel, and it was empty when Stone entered. He had looked
around for Maggie, but the entire building was deserted. He found some paper and left a note. He wasn’t one for goodbyes, but he stopped in on Deborah at the diner. He needed to know about John, needed to see if her life would become meaningful once more.
The diner was full. All of the tables were taken, some people were even eating standing up. It had a party atmosphere to it too. It seemed to be a cross between waitress and self-service, but everyone was eating and drinking and despite what the people in the mine had been through, there was chatter and laughing. Some crying also, but emotions would naturally be running high. Maggie was beaming. She was dropping down plates of pancakes and eggs. A thin, gaunt-looking man was almost constantly by her side, and she kissed him, hugged him, then reached for more plates on the counter. Peter, Stone thought. He looked at Deborah, who was happy and bright, her eyes glossy and moist. A young man sat at the counter eating scrambled eggs. Deborah kissed him on the head between bussing plates. John, Stone thought. She looked up and saw Stone in the doorway. She dropped plates of ham and eggs in front of two men, who tucked in hungrily, and then she dashed over to Stone, pushing through a crowd of people. She flung her arms around him, Stone felt her breasts press into him, her arms not letting go, squeezing him tightly. She kissed him several times, her lips pressing against his own.
“I can’t tell you how happy you’ve made me!” She breathed heavily. “Gator told me what you did, how you saved all of these people and turned up at Big Dave’s yard with everyone. Thank you, thank you so much… Thank you for bringing my son back to me!” Stone didn’t say anything. He couldn’t stop picturing Beth cradling Josh in her arms. How it had turned out so different, so tragically for her. He eventually smiled at Deborah and that was enough for her. “You’re not going, are you?”
Stone nodded. “I’ve got a long drive.”
“Sort of, kind of girl?”
“Yep.”
“Well, she’s a lucky one, that much is for sure.” Deborah hugged him again and whispered in his ear. “If it doesn’t work out, I’m yours. All of me, anytime and forever…” She hugged him tightly, then released him, smiled and walked back to the throng of diners without looking back.
Stone walked back to the Mustang. The sun was up and the town was glistening in the prospect of a new dawn. There was a feeling of hope in the air. Stone could hear noise down the street. The sports bar was open and people would be bustling in and out the same as they were here. State Police officers were going door to door, interviewing everyone and taking statements. Curtains previously closed were now drawn open.
He thought of Beth. She had rolled the dice and the debt had been paid. Stone knew that she had been desperate. She had struck up her relationship with Bart Conrad to get her son back. She had called Stone for help, but had used him just the same. She had been promised, and by the look of the blood on her face, forcibly persuaded by Big Dave to kill Stone in return for her Josh’s release and safety. Even at the end, knowing he had been used all along, Stone had brought her son to her. But she had played her hand too soon, and paid a terrible price.
Stone got inside the Mustang and started the engine. He was done here, it was time to move on and he knew where he was going to end up. And with whom. He gunned the throttle and tore down the main strip in a flurry of tyre smoke and engine noise and pointed the car east towards the sunrise.
41
It had been a long day for the people of Abandon but one they would never forget. Loved ones had returned, but not everybody in town had been so lucky. There was bitter-sweetness, but everything had changed for the better. Sometimes just knowing can be satisfying too.
The people had been fed and checked over medically. Those not from Abandon had been bussed to hotels in Portland where they were to be returned home over the next few days. All would be called back for the trial.
Big Dave Conrad had been taken away and would eventually face the most charges ever brought against a US citizen including assault, rape, intimidation, unlicensed medical practice, abduction, murder, enforced slavery and perverting the cause of justice. The IRS would be following the case closely and building their own. As would the various medical governing bodies, both in Oregon and nationwide. Interpol would express their interest in the case as many human organs had left the United States and now crossed ongoing international investigations.
Houses long abandoned in the town had been opened up and liberated by the returned. In some cases, people had to grieve for loved ones that did not return. Some people who had returned had to face the task of finding and contacting family who had left and moved on with their lives, fearing the worst. The Oregon State Police were going to help with any repatriation over the coming weeks.
Maggie and Peter poured a large bourbon and sat down in the comfortable straight-backed chairs in the bar. The hotel was full of FBI agents staying for the duration of the investigation. Now that she had fed the people all day in the diner, she would be able to concentrate on her business. And her marriage. Life was going to be different, and life was going to start today. Maggie drank the bourbon down and felt the warmth flow through her. She hadn’t told Peter about the day with the drink and the pills, the day Stone and Deborah and Dr Fallon had saved her. And she never would. Dark times, now only light remained. She smiled to herself, still in disbelief. She saw the bag in the chair across the room. Thought one of the FBI agents had left it there, but she had checked them all in personally. Many didn’t even have luggage. She got out of the chair, she would have got up for another bourbon anyway, and walked over. The bag had a single sheet of folded paper tucked into the straps. She unfolded it and it simply read: For the townspeople of Abandon. To start again. RS.
Maggie looked at the note again, then unzipped the heavy bag and snatched her breath as she looked down on the neat little bricks of twenties, fifties and hundreds. A little over half the contents of Claude Conrad’s safe.
Stone would have given it all, but he had needed to maintain a trail. The Conrad brothers had created a big business and for some of the charges to stick, there had to be ill-gotten profits. He had told the lead FBI agent that he had estimated a five-million-dollar fortune in Claude Conrad’s safe. That would be a good place to start, as well as hook in the IRS investigators and no doubt the Treasury Department of the Secret Service at a later date.
For some people though, no amount of money would help them cope with what had been done to their lives. For others there would be the chance to lay the evil of the past few years to rest, to rebuild their lives with their loved ones and make Abandon a place worth living once more.
Maggie thought of the man who had turned up at her door just three days ago. The man who had fought for them, and won. The man who had saved her from herself, and saved her husband from God only knew what. She smiled, turned around and walked back to Peter. The money would be nice, but as she looked at her husband, she knew it didn’t really matter. Rob Stone had gifted her and the rest of the town with something else. They had their dignity, their freedom and their lives back. And there was no price which could be put on any of that.
Author’s Note
I hope you enjoyed the story. For those who did not know this was a sequel to The Ares Virus, I hope it read well as a standalone novel – it’s what I always intend to achieve. For those who did, I hope you like what I’ve done with Rob Stone and appreciated a few nods to his past.
We modern writers rely so much on reviews, Amazon in particular. I hope you can take a couple minutes to log on and leave a review and rating. It helps keep our work visible in a competitive market. Here’s a link that will get you there -
http://www.amazon.co.uk/A-P-BATEMAN/e/B00TIS48AI
I plan another outing for Rob Stone soon. I’m always working on something. You can keep up with me on Facebook to find out what -
https://www.facebook.com/A-P-Bateman-438490282965204/?ref=hl
Thanks for reading
A P Bateman
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A P Bateman, The Town (Rob Stone Book 2)