“Good morning, Dad. How’s the best daddy in the whole wide world?”
“Uh, oh. What do you want?”
Red feigned a hurt look.
“Why, Dad. How come every time I pay you a compliment you think I want something?”
“I don’t know. Maybe because you usually do.”
“Well, in this case all I want is a hug.”
“Ha! I knew there was something.”
“You want my hug or not?”
“Well… okay.”
“Hey, I saw John Savage leave. Since when are you and he friends?”
“We’re not, actually. But you know me. I can be friendly and civil to anyone. Even a scoundrel like John Savage.”
“What did he want?”
“He was concerned about Bill and Joanie Cullen. He thinks they may have killed themselves.”
“Why on earth would he think that?”
“He said they missed an appointment with him yesterday.”
Red wasn’t impressed.
“Maybe they missed the appointment because they realized Savage is a horse’s ass and wasn’t worth their time.”
“Maybe. But apparently someone heard some gunshots coming from the Cullen place the night before last.”
“Oh, no…”
“Yeah. That’s what I thought too. Anyway, I’m gonna grab a couple of guys from the pool hall and go check on them. Would you watch the store while I’m gone?”
“Sure. Vinny and I can play poker until you get back.”
“Sorry. Vinny didn’t show up again this morning.”
“Isn’t that like, four days in a row now?”
“Yep. Something like that.”
“Maybe you should go by and check on him too.”
“I’m not so worried about him. He said he needed to get away from it all for a few days, and was going up to the lake to go hunting and fishing.
“But you’re right. I’ll stop by his place on the way back.”
Butch walked across the street and two doors down to The Pool Room.
It was the only pool hall in Blanco, and used to rent cue sticks and balls by the minute.
Since the owner committed suicide, it had been left open around the clock for surviving residents to spend some of their free time.
And these days they had plenty of free time, since many of them used to work in nearby Austin and no longer had a way of getting back and forth.
Something else The Pool Room had that was rather unique: skylights that covered most of the ceiling in the single-story structure.
As one veteran pool shooter remarked, “Lights? We don’t need no stinkin’ lights.”
Even without electricity, they could see well enough to play pool, billiards and snooker.
Actually, they did need stinkin’ lights, but only at night. That was solved by placing kerosene lanterns and candles strategically about the place.
The doors to the place hadn’t closed since the world went black. It had become a place for crowds to gather during the day, and a place for insomniacs to gravitate to as well.
Butch knew The Pool Room was the place to go if he needed to scare up warm bodies itching for something to do.
“Hey, Butch, how are you? Want to shoot a game or two?”
“Hi, Marty. No, I’ll have to take a raincheck and beat you next time. Actually, I’m on a mission and need a couple of bodies to go with me.”
That got some interest, and several heads turned in Butch’s direction.
“To where?”
“Over to the Cullen place. They appear to be missing, and somebody heard some gunshots over there a couple of nights ago.”
Someone in the back of the room said, “Dear Jesus, when is it all gonna end?”
Someone else said, “I’ll go with you, Butch. Are we walking or riding?”
“It’s walkable if you’ve a mind to.”
“Might as well. I can’t seem to stop scratching long enough to win a game anyway.”
Butch walked out, three helpers in tow, and headed out toward the Cullen place.
Chapter 40
Red knew what they’d found long before Butch and the others returned.
Walking to the Cullens’ place from The Pool Room would have taken twenty minutes. Thirty tops.
If they found the Cullens okay, they likely would have visited for a few minutes and then returned.
Red moved her chair onto the sidewalk and watched rather impatiently for the group to return.
When two hours came and went there was no question about it. They were digging graves and preparing bodies for burial.
Red was already in poor spirits, but it was about to get much worse.
Lake Haverty was a man-made lake of about ten acres, about two miles north of Blanco. In better times it was a fisherman’s paradise, teeming with perch and catfish.
Since the blackout it had turned into a food source for the newly destitute and newly desperate in need of fresh protein.
And since the economy crashed with the power outage, there was no longer a need for anyone to go to work. Unless, like Butch, they just wanted to help their friends and neighbors.
Each morning, a dozen or more Blanco residents, mostly men, set off on horseback or on foot for Lake Haverty to try to catch some supper.
On this particular day, they’d bring back something besides fish.
Something vastly more troubling.
Watching the horsemen coming up the street reminded Red of a scene from an old western movie.
She’d been a fan of the westerns since as far back as she could remember.
Butch collected every John Wayne movie he could find, first on VHS tapes and later on DVDs. Every Saturday night in her youth, Butch would select a movie and the family would watch it together.
Before her mom died, they watched the movies in Rita’s room. Butch would sit on one side of the bed and Red on the other, holding Rita’s hand or brushing her hair or caressing her arm.
Red’s job on movie night was making a bag of microwave popcorn.
Her mom would rant and rave about Red’s popcorn, claiming it was the best she’d ever eaten.
“Oh, mom,” Red would say. “It’s just regular old microwave popcorn.”
But her mom would argue.
“No way, child. This is so much better. You must put an added ingredient in it. Something that makes it special.”
For a long time Red didn’t get it, until one of Rita’s friends came to call. Rita bragged about Red’s cooking abilities, and used the popcorn as a prime example.
“Debbie’s popcorn is the very best because she puts a little bit of love into each batch. And that tiny bit of love makes it the best popcorn in the whole wide world.”
Butch and Red carried on the Saturday night western tradition after Rita’s death. And Red still made the popcorn each and every week. But it just wasn’t quite the same after her mom died.
There was something missing.
In old western movies, when a dead body is returned to town, or to its loved ones, it is draped over a horse. The hands and feet are connected by a rope that runs beneath the horse so that the body doesn’t fall off.
And that’s what Red saw coming down the street, with a group of riders.
Two women were talking to Red about the blackout and its aftermath when Red’s attention got diverted.
Her eyes were fixated on the horse, and the body it carried.
When the women saw what distracted Red, one of them said, “Oh, my.”
The other put a hand to her mouth and then asked, “I wonder who it could be.”
Red didn’t recognize the horse that carried the body, which had mercifully been wrapped in a green blanket.
But that didn’t necessarily mean she didn’t know him. Or her.
Red knew pretty much everybody in Blanco.
The horsemen stopped at the town square, and several people gathered around them.
Red steeled herself for
what was likely bad news and walked over to the square.
The two women followed close behind.
As they approached the riders, someone started crying. Another yelled, “It’s poor Vinny. They found him floating in the lake.”
Red turned and bolted home.
Chapter 41
Butch and his volunteers made it back just in time for the daily gathering, and gave Judge Moore the sad news about Bill and Joanie Cullen.
“It looked like he surprised her in the shower and shot her dead, then went downstairs to his favorite chair and shot himself. I guess either she didn’t want to die or he wanted to take her by surprise so she didn’t stress over it.
“In any event, we wrapped them both in bedsheets and buried them in the same grave in their east pasture, where they can watch the sunrise together for all eternity.
“I took the handgun from his hand and wrapped it up and brought it back. I can give it to you, judge, or I can give it to whoever the town council elects to be the next police chief.”
“Just hang onto it for now, Butch. But don’t fire it or let anybody else touch it. Have you heard the news about Vinny Davis?”
“No, sir. What about him?”
“They found him in Lake Haverty. I appointed a detail to bury him. They’re doing that now, at the town cemetery. I told them to bury him next to his mother and dad if the spot was available.”
“Damn it, judge, this kind of stuff is getting old.”
“I know, Butch. I fear it’s going to keep happening, though, and will probably even get worse. Everybody has their own breaking point. I think as each person reaches theirs, suicide looks like a much less painful option.”
Butch looked around for Red and didn’t see her.
He excused himself and walked to her house about three quarters of a mile away.
He found her and Russell sitting on the front porch swing, and Rusty playing in the yard with a Tonka dump truck.
Rusty left the truck and went running across the yard to meet him, yelling “Grandpa!” all the way.
Butch picked the little guy up and put him on his shoulders, then held onto Rusty’s feet as he climbed the steps to the porch.
“Did you hear about Vincent?”
Red’s puffy eyes told him she probably had.
“Yes. We were debating over whether or not it was suicide.”
“They’re burying him now. Let’s walk down to the cemetery and give him a proper sendoff. Everybody else is in town for the gathering, and there’s nothing sadder than a funeral with no mourners. Vinny deserves to know that there were people who loved him and cared for him.”
“Do you think he committed suicide, Dad?”
“I don’t know, honey. He mentioned awhile back that he was a very poor swimmer. He’d asked the Marine recruiter if he had to take a swimming test to join the Marines.
“The recruiter told him no. He said the Marines were more concerned about whether or not he could carry and fire a rifle. And that as far as he knew, the Navy was the only branch of the service that had a swim test.
“But the recruiter also told him that swimming was an excellent means of exercise, both to build stamina and to strengthen the upper body. He suggested to Vincent that he work on his swimming, and then to swim laps to help him get ready for the rigors of boot camp.”
“Maybe that’s why he was out there.”
“But he told me the other day he’d given up on joining the Marines since the blackout happened. He was down on himself, saying he should have gotten out of here while he had the chance. Then he said he was going to be stuck here for the rest of his life.”
Russell said, “Well, sadly, that much was true.”
They arrived at the cemetery after the burial team had left.
It was easy to find Vinny’s grave, though. The mound of dirt was fresh and it was right next to the graves of Henry and Mary Davis.
Red sniffled and said, “It’s sad that there’s no marker or anything to show who’s there.”
“I’ll make him a cross and put his name on it.”
“I think he’d like that.”
“Do you think they said a prayer over him?”
“I don’t know, honey. But a second one certainly couldn’t hurt. Want me to do the honors?”
Red and Russell both nodded.
“Lord God, please accept the soul of our good friend Vincent. He was a good and decent man, as you already know, and was loved by all who knew him. Please take him and keep him and let him know he’ll be greatly missed. In your holy name, Amen.”
“Thank you, Dad. Let me know when you’re coming back out here tomorrow. I’ll walk over with you, and I’ll bring flowers for his grave and his parents’ graves.”
They looked around the small cemetery, saddened by the number of fresh dirt mounds. Several of the town’s residents had been buried here in recent days, and all of them had died at their own hand.
Russell asked the question that all three of them had thought about but none had voiced before.
“Do y’all think that suicide is a sin in the eyes of God?”
Butch said, “I think so. I mean, the Bible says ‘Thou shalt not kill.’ It doesn’t offer a pass if someone kills himself.”
“I disagree, Dad. I mean, God is merciful, and He created us each with our own flaws and our own breaking point. I think in His mercy, he’d forgive us.”
“But the Bible also says that to be forgiven you must come forth and repent and ask for forgiveness of your sins. How can you do that if your last act on earth is to kill yourself?”
“The Bible isn’t a rule book. It’s merely the teachings of God and of Jesus. God Himself makes the rules. And He decides who is forgiven. I have to believe that someone as good as Vinny would be accepted into heaven, whatever the circumstances of his death.
“Because I can’t bear the thought of him going to hell for one desperate act.”
“So, you think he committed suicide? You don’t think he was swimming for the exercise and just went too far out?”
“I don’t know. I just know that Vinny and Whitey were two of my best friends in the world. And now they’re both gone. And I’m tired of people I love dying.”
Chapter 42
Savage and Luna met as planned at the Cullen house.
Luna picked the lock on the front door, just as he’d done two nights before. Even in the pitch black of the night, he made quick work of it.
He had many years of experience.
They made their way inside and Savage lit a kerosene lantern.
Savage tried to portray himself as a tough guy, but he was a rather timid soul.
He was visibly shaken to see Bill Cullen’s dried blood and brain matter splattered all over the wall next to his chair, and the large blood stain on the chair itself.
Luna laughed at him.
“If the sight of blood bothers you, you might not want to use the upstairs bathroom.”
Luna looked around to assess the place.
“Good. The looters haven’t been here yet. But they’ll be coming. You can damn sure bet on that.”
“Looters?”
“Yes. You said these people were preppers. If the whole town knew about it, then some of them will be coming for their food and supply stores. We’ve got to do something to keep them away.”
“Like what?”
“You wait here. Close all the drapes and find a movie to put in the DVD player. Something with lots of talking. We’ll turn the TV up just loud enough so that anyone approaching the house will hear voices.”
“Where are you going?”
“I’m going out back to get the generator started. It’ll be a lot easier finding our way around if we have lights.”
Luna went through the kitchen and out the back door. On his way, he grabbed the flashlight that Bill Cullen had left on the kitchen counter.
He was surprised that it worked. None of the others he’d seen since the blackout did. And he wondered
what Bill and Joanie did to protect it from damage.
The generator had run itself dry the night of the murders, but that wasn’t a problem.
Luna knew where the gas can was.
Once the lights were back on, he joined Savage back in the kitchen, where the fat man was digging through the kitchen drawers.
“You won’t find anything in there, except maybe some silverware,” Luna said.
Savage looked at him with an accusatory glare.
“Relax. I haven’t been through the kitchen drawers. I’ve been doing this for years, remember? Women are predictable. So are men. There are a handful of hiding places where they always hide things.”
“Like where, for example?”
“They always hide handguns in the night table. On the husband’s side. He’s the one who gets up to investigate noises in the night. Sometimes they’re loaded, sometimes they’re not. When they’re not, there’s gonna be a box of ammo, and maybe a loaded magazine, on the shelf in the closet.
“Almost always on the right side, for some reason.”
“Thank you for that, but I’m looking for something more valuable than handguns.”
“Oh, then you probably don’t care that rifles are almost always in the closet of the master bedroom or under the man’s side of the bed. They’re almost always loaded, but almost never charged. And the safeties are always on.”
“Nice to know. But what about the valuables?”
Luna smiled. He enjoyed toying with Savage and watching his face turn red.
“Oh. Why didn’t you say so?”
“A woman’s jewelry is either in a jewelry box centered on the top of her dresser, or in her lingerie drawer in the very back, behind her play toys.
“Gold and silver will be in one of four places. Most often it’s in the husband’s underwear drawer, beneath his underwear and in the very back. Men think that any self-respecting burglar won’t dare look there. But they do.
“If it’s not there, it’s under the bed in a shoe box, under the mattress and pushed toward the center of the bed, or inside the mattress itself. If it’s inside the mattress, it’s stuffed inside a small horizontal cut made in the top of the mattress and hidden beneath the bed’s headboard.”
Red: The Adventure Begins Page 12