Now it was Jane’s turn to be quiet for a moment. Gabe saw her knuckles turn white as her grip on the steering wheel tightened.
“How do you know all this?”
“Some from what the deputy at the store told me the other day. Other parts are from looking at human nature.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, if you and Robby lived in the city and there was no food or water, what would you do?”
Her eyes opened a little and she just stared at him for a long moment. Then they narrowed. “So, what do we do?” she asked.
“I don’t know for sure, but we need to talk about it.”
Jane just nodded. They were both quiet for a long while.
“Gabe?”
“Yes?”
“Can I ask you some questions about your family?”
* * *
A second later, another shot rang out. DJ couldn’t tell how close it was fired from, but sound didn’t carry as far in the rain as it did on a clear day. He grabbed his rifle and started to run in the direction he thought it had come from, but then he stopped. If the shots were that close, it could be some sort of trap.
He went back to his bike and quickly donned his ballistic vest and climbed on the quad. He wasn’t about to leave his most valuable possessions behind. Starting up the big machine, he backed it out of the shed and pulled up to the gate. A quick slice of the zip tie with his knife allowed him to open the gate. DJ noticed that the rain was letting up. Looking toward the west, he saw the sky was blue. Jumping back on the quad, he slowly made his way down the road, listening intently and looking for where the shots had been fired. A quarter mile down the road, a dirt driveway intersected the road. There were fresh tire tracks in the mud. Trees grew along both sides of the drive and hid whatever was behind them. He stopped his bike, and his mind raced to figure the best course of action. A minute later, two more shots rang out. There was no doubt that they were coming from the other side of the trees.
DJ heard a woman’s voice. “Okay, okay, we’ll come out!”
“Do it!” a man yelled. “Do it slow.”
DJ climbed off the bike with his carbine. He approached the opening in the trees in a semicrouch, and spotted a modest house. An old hot rod was parked in front. He lifted his rifle and looked through the scope. Three young men wearing gang colors were pointing weapons at the house. DJ had dealt with their kind, never in the way he had wanted, though. DJ knew what these types were capable of.
The front door on the small frame house opened, and a woman stepped out onto the porch with her hands in the air. A small child was hugging her tightly around the tops of her legs, making it impossible for her to take a normal-sized step.
“Is anyone else in the house?” the thug in the middle demanded.
The woman shook her head. Even at the almost hundred yards that DJ was from the house, he could tell through the scope that she was good looking. The middle guy, who DJ assumed was the leader, waved her toward him with his gun. The woman started moving toward him slowly as the child’s grip tightened, making it harder for her to walk.
“Hurry up, bitch!” he screamed.
The woman’s pace didn’t change, and the impatient leader waved his free hand at his boys. They pounced on the woman like cats on a mouse. One peeled the child away from her, and the other grabbed her arms and held them behind her with one hand and pointed his pistol into her neck with the other. The leader stuck his pistol into the back of his droopy pants and walked up to her. DJ couldn’t tell if he was frisking her or feeling her up. The little girl was screaming, and the leader looked at the hoodlum holding her and said something. DJ was scared that he was going to pistol-whip the little girl, but he just shook her until she shut up.
The leader returned to his supposed search of the woman. He quickly found his way to her feminine parts. The woman screamed, “No,” and began to twist and thrash around. The leader slapped her and grabbed her blouse, tearing it open. Then he slapped her again, this time so hard that she fell to the ground face-first. She went limp and still. DJ didn’t know if the hit had rendered her unconscious, or if she’d hit her head on the ground. The leader rolled her over with his foot. His hands went to his belt buckle and his face split into an evil smile. DJ felt his face go hot. He knew what was next, and he wasn’t going to let it happen if he could help it.
His carbine came to his shoulder as if it were part of him. All the hours of dry-firing in his apartment and the time he spent at the range had engrained the movement into his muscles. He leaned the forearm of the rifle against the trunk of the tree to give him the steadiest shot possible. The red chevron reticule of the scope found the middle of the leader’s head. DJ flipped the safety, and the pad of his forefinger found the trigger. He squeezed, and the carbine barked.
The back of the leader’s head disappeared into a pink mist. DJ felt the scowl on his face turn to a grin. The sight of his highly frangible bullet intersecting with the cranium of the perp was the coolest thing he’d ever seen. The man’s body even stood erect for a moment. DJ had heard of this phenomenon, and he’d always wanted to see it. His gleeful reverie was broken a second later, as the other two delinquents began to run. He quickly adjusted his sight picture and fired again, this time at the torso of the man who had held the woman. He fell to the ground. The last punk was running for the car, firing his handgun wildly in DJ’s general direction. DJ fired three times before he hit him. The man stumbled but continued to run for the car. DJ sent several more bullets his way before one stopped the man in his tracks.
It was strange. The world had gone silent. DJ wasn’t able to define the feeling that saving the woman had given him. It wasn’t joy, but it was close. He figured it could only come from the fact that he’d kept the woman and her daughter from being assaulted or worse.
He maintained his position for a moment to make sure there weren’t any more tangos that he hadn’t seen. The little girl started to cry. He changed magazines and stood up, reexamining his surroundings. The three youths were probably too stupid to have a lookout, but he had to be careful. It only took one well-aimed bullet from an unseen adversary to ruin your day.
DJ cautiously made his way to the house. He could see the little girl lying across her unconscious mother and sobbing so hard that her body shook uncontrollably. When he was about halfway to the house, she saw him and began to scream. DJ lowered the rifle from his shoulder and held out his hand to assure her that everything was okay. The gesture did not have the desired effect, as the girl only screamed more hysterically. DJ didn’t need some neighborhood do-gooder thinking he was one of the bad guys and shooting him by mistake.
“It’s okay, it’s okay,” he said in a hushed voice, looking from side to side. “I’m here to help you. I stopped those bad men from hurting you and your mom.”
“Are you going to shoot us?” the girl asked in a trembling voice.
“Of course not,” DJ reassured her. “I’m here to help. Did you see any more bad guys?”
The girl, who looked to be six or seven, shook her head. DJ was now close enough to see that the woman was unconscious. He knelt down beside her and felt her neck for a pulse. It was strong, and he could see that she was breathing. There was a large lump on her forehead where she’d hit the ground. He turned and looked at the mostly headless attacker and saw the grip of a very large pistol sticking out of the waistband of his jeans. DJ pulled the pistol out to find it was a Desert Eagle in .357 Magnum.
DJ figured he’d better check on the other two hoodlums. The second one he’d shot was dead, and it looked as if the bullet had gone through his heart. DJ could only imagine how badly the thinly jacketed projectile had shredded the organ. When he walked around the car, he found the guy who had run for it was still breathing in ragged gasps. He stared at the young man for a minute. It looked as if the injuries from the three
hits, while not immediately fatal, were not survivable without medical treatment.
The man groaned and turned his head. His eyes opened, and he looked up at DJ. He moved his mouth to talk, but no sound came out. His eyes pleaded to the man standing over him as no words could. He was probably only sixteen or seventeen and had most likely not had the advantages of a loving home or anyone who really cared about him. His fate had been sealed from the moment he’d been born.
DJ knew that the phones were probably not working, and even if he could call 911, he didn’t want to have to explain this situation to the law. They’d likely see things his way and let him go, but that wasn’t a chance he was willing to take. He could load the young man into the car, try to get him to a hospital, and just dump him at the door. They might be able to save him, but save him for what? He’d only return to his evil ways if he survived. It was all he knew, and how many resources and supplies would the hospital have to use that might be used to save a truly deserving person?
It was a dilemma DJ had never considered facing. He held this boy’s life in his hands. What should he do? If he took him to a hospital, would he be able to get back to get his quad? That would also use up gas in the car that he really needed. He decided that it was only humane to put the boy out of his misery.
DJ flipped the safety off on his AR-15 and placed the muzzle right in the middle of the young man’s forehead. The kid’s eyes widened.
“See you in hell, kid.”
DJ’s finger touched the trigger, but he couldn’t pull it. He stared back down into the youth’s terrified eyes, going over his options again. Before he came to a conclusion, the eyes closed and the body slumped over.
DJ was thankful he hadn’t had to put the coup de grâce into the kid, but he also didn’t feel any remorse that he was dead. He wondered briefly if he should. He heard the girl start to cry again, and he walked back around the car.
“It’s okay,” he said as he knelt down beside the girl and gently patted her shoulder. “What’s your name?”
“Nancy.”
“Well, Nancy, what do you say we get your mama inside and look after her?”
The little girl nodded. DJ slung his rifle behind his back and slid his arms under the woman. The hours he’d spent in the gym made lifting the small-framed woman easy. Her torn blouse fell open, and he couldn’t help noticing what a nice figure she had. He walked toward the door. Nancy ran ahead of him and opened it. He carefully stepped through, making sure he didn’t bump the woman’s head again on the doorframe. The house was modestly furnished but was clean and neat.
“Is she going to be okay?” Nancy asked as DJ set her mother down on the couch.
“I hope so, Nancy. You don’t have any ice, do you?”
Nancy shook her head. DJ pulled out his flashlight and turned it on. He opened one of the woman’s eyes with his thumb and shined the light in it. Then he did the same to the other eye. Both pupils contracted, and he knew that was a good sign. He tried to recall the paramedic training he’d taken after the police department had turned down his application. He’d applied to the fire department and had been accepted, but after just a few weeks of EMT school, he found it wasn’t for him and dropped out.
“Do you have running water?” he asked the girl.
“No, but Mommy filled up the bathtubs before it quit.”
“Good. Would you go get a washcloth and wet it real good for me?”
Nancy nodded once and then disappeared down a hallway. He looked around the room and saw a picture of Nancy with her mother and a man. It was the kind of portrait that only families take. He reached down and pulled the woman’s left hand up from her side and saw a simple wedding band.
He wondered where her husband was. If this was his woman, he wouldn’t leave her in this situation. He only had to wonder for a moment, as Nancy came running back into the living room. DJ took the cloth from her, folded it in half, and laid it across the woman’s head.
“Nancy, where’s your dad?”
“He’s driving his truck. Mommy says he should be home any day.”
“He drives a big truck?”
The girl nodded.
“I see,” DJ said. “Do you have a car?”
“Yes, but Mommy said somebody stole the gas out of it.”
The fact that there was no gas to be had here reminded DJ that his quad was still out on the road. “Nancy, I have to go get my four-wheeler. Can you watch your mom for a minute?”
Again the girl nodded, and DJ grabbed his rifle and went out the door. He carefully scanned from left to right and didn’t see anything that looked out of place. It only took a minute to get his quad and ride it up to the house. When he got off, he walked over to the car the attackers had driven. He opened the door and was greeted with the smell of marijuana and alcohol. He leaned over and turned the key. The gas needle moved to halfway between the E and the ¼ marks. DJ walked to the back of the car and opened the trunk. It was full of things that had likely been stolen. Most were worthless items like stereos and DVD players. There was some food, and DJ removed that. He spread the rest of the loot out as evenly as he could and then put the three bodies on top. Looking down at them, he thought he might feel some level of remorse. He didn’t. They were old enough to have chosen their paths and got what they deserved. It was a shame, but letting them harm innocent people hadn’t been an option. The trunk lid didn’t want to close without a good push.
He’d have to get the car out of here, just in case these guys had friends. Plus, doing so would help minimize scrutiny from the law. He would drive it somewhere that it wouldn’t be easily found and perhaps set it on fire. Hopefully, the woman would recover and be able to help him. DJ picked up the food and carried it into the house.
The woman was awake and was exploring the knot on her head. DJ could also see welt marks rising where the gangbanger’s fingers had impacted her left cheek. She didn’t seem startled when DJ walked into the room, which told DJ that Nancy had let her mother know who he was.
“Hi, there. I’m the guy who stopped those guys from hurting you. How are you feeling?” he asked, as he set the food on the kitchen counter.
“I’ll be okay, I think,” she said as she gingerly touched the bump on her head. “Nancy told me you shot them?”
“I was afraid they were going to kill you and Nancy,” he said softly, “after they had their fun with you, of course.” He knew they probably would have taken turns at Nancy after they finished with her, but he didn’t think she was ready to hear that. “I had to stop them, and shooting them was the only way I could take out all three before they could hurt you.”
“Are they all dead?”
“Yes, I’m afraid so.” DJ waited for her to lash out at him.
Her eyes narrowed and she furrowed her brow, wincing. “Good,” she spat. “I’m glad you killed them. Thank you.”
CHAPTER 13
“You’re welcome,” DJ answered. He was surprised at her response. He hadn’t expected her to be thankful. She sat up, and her blouse fell open, exposing her black brassiere and the soft pale flesh that it didn’t cover. She quickly pulled the torn material up to cover herself.
“Really, thank you so much,” she said in a soft voice. “Since Roger’s on the road, I’ve been worried something like this would happen. If you hadn’t come along, there’s no telling . . .” Her voice trailed off.
“Where is your husband?”
“He was taking a load to the West Coast; he’s a truck driver. I’m expecting him back anytime now.”
“I see,” DJ said. He knew that if the man wasn’t home yet, he was stranded somewhere, or worse.
“I guess I’d better go change clothes,” she said. She stood up quickly, then wobbled back and forth for a second before plopping back onto the couch. “Whoa, I guess I hit my head harder than I thought.”<
br />
DJ stepped toward her and held out his hand. She took it and pulled herself back to a standing position. The hand was soft and smooth. DJ imagined that the rest of her would be the same. Standing next to her, he could see exactly how petite and perfectly proportioned she was. When she recognized how he was looking at her, her face flushed and she removed her hand from his. She and Nancy disappeared into the back of the house.
DJ sat down, immediately realizing how good it felt to sit in a comfortable chair. He thought about how he should already have made it to his bug-out location. It wouldn’t be as comfortable as this, but it would be way better than camping out off the quad every day. He’d get whatever gas he could out of the attackers’ car and hopefully he could guilt the woman into giving him some. Then, once it got dark, he’d hit the road. Maybe the woman had a guest room, and he could sleep on a bed for a few hours. That would be heavenly.
A minute later, she came back into the room. DJ immediately noticed that she was wearing a baggy sweatshirt.
“By the way, my name’s Crystal,” she said as she stuck out her hand. “And this is Nancy.”
“I’ve already met Nancy,” DJ said as he shook the woman’s hand. “She’s a very brave little girl, and she’s pretty, too, just like her mother.” The handshake was short and businesslike. “It’s nice to meet you, Crystal.” He flashed his best smile and was rewarded with a shy smile from Crystal. “My name’s DJ. DJ Frost.”
“Thanks again for helping us, Mr. Frost.”
“No problem. I’m glad I was in the neighborhood, and please don’t be so formal. You can call me DJ.” He smiled again.
“Okay, DJ.” The woman returned the smile. This time, she seemed a little more relaxed. Suddenly her face screwed up. “Do you think that they might have friends?”
“I doubt it,” DJ said as reassuringly as he could. Then he thought that if he could make her a little frightened, she might do whatever it took to keep him around. “But anything’s possible. Maybe we should get that car out of here, just in case. I can take it and dump it. Do you feel up to following me in your car?” he asked.
Collision Course Page 11