by Bobby Akart
Beau backed out of the room and slumped against the wall. He asked God for a sign.
Nothing this time.
He was on his own. Beau paced the floor, subconsciously patting his knife in its sheath. His eye caught an EKG machine shoved into the corner of the room. Several multicolored wires were plugged into it. He took the wires and hog-tied the man by tying his arms behind his back and then binding them to his feet. He ripped a pillowcase into strips and gagged the man.
“You’ll live, this time,” said Beau under his breath.
Beau gathered up the man’s weapons and then found a prize tucked in his belt—a two-way radio. He immediately found channel 1, his jersey number, today’s channel, at least until the sunrise reset.
“Tiger Tails, Tiger Tails, injury time-out.”
Beau looked through the windows to get his bearings. He repeated the play.
“Tiger Tails, Tiger Tails, injury time-out. Strong side formation. On one. Go!”
Chapter 8
4:00 a.m., November 2
Savannah
Jake put the Holiday 88 into drive and opened up the four-barrel carburetor. The powerful V8 turned the rear tires, pelting all the vehicles behind it with gravel. After a slight fishtail, Jake brought the rear end back into line and burst through the chain-link gates, which partially flipped over the roof of the car, and the rest dangled from one bolt on their left.
“Whoa, look out!” exclaimed Colton as he gripped the headrest of Coach Carey’s passenger seat. Jake slammed on the brakes to avoid shooting across the street into a drainage ditch.
CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!
Gunshots rang out as Junior’s men ran down the road toward them. Undeterred, Jake swung the car around and headed directly for the assailants.
“Shoot ’em!” he shouted to no one in particular.
Colton reached his right arm through the open car window and began firing at the men with his pistol. The scene resembled a cops and robbers scene from a sixties B movie.
Jake gripped the steering wheel and swerved the mighty Olds back and forth to avoid getting hit by the deputies’ errant shots. When Colton returned fire, they jumped for cover behind a parked car.
“Keep going this way!” shouted Coach Carey as he pointed straight ahead. “They’ll identify the car and report we’re going north. It’ll throw them off.”
“Got it!” exclaimed Jake as he roared up the road and put sufficient distance between them and the men who were firing frantically in their direction.
“Woo-hoo!” shouted Chase, jubilantly exchanging high fives with Colton. The four men were celebrating when a faint sound came over Coach Carey’s radio. The static could barely be heard.
“Shhhhh, everybody. Quiet!” Coach Carey adjusted the squelch and turned up the volume. They waited in silence as Jake slowed the Olds to a crawl while keeping his eyes on the rearview mirror.
“Listen.”
The two-way squawked to life.
“Tiger Tails, Tiger Tails, injury time-out. Strong side formation. On one. Go!”
“That’s Beau!” shouted Coach Carey. “Turn right up here. Right. Right!”
Jake gave it the gas, turned on the next street and headed east. He glanced toward the head coach of the Hardin County Tigers. “What’s it mean?”
Coach Carey shifted in his seat to face Colton. “I don’t want you to be alarmed. This doesn’t necessarily mean something’s wrong.”
“What? What does it mean?” asked Colton, a look of fear having overcome his face.
“That was Beau, and we know he has Alex. He’s at the hospital somewhere on the right side, probably the east wing. He wants us to come quickly and find him. He’s by himself with Alex.”
“Jake,” said Colton.
“I’m on it, brother,” said Jake, acknowledging Colton’s concern. “Just guide me in there, Coach.”
“Keep going just a few more blocks. We’ll hide the car behind the cancer center to the east of the hospital. He’ll be watching, or we’ll find a rear entrance. Junior’s men will have the front covered.”
“Guys—” started Colton before Coach Carey interrupted him.
“Stay calm, my friend,” he said. “We’ll get our kids outta there.”
Jake made the final turn toward the rear of the hospital as instructed. He cut the lights and then coasted into the back parking lot of the adjacent buildings undetected. Jake and Chase agreed to set up a perimeter watch while Colton and Coach Carey went in the rear entrance. If there was a problem, they’d be coming out in a hurry. Jake was instructed to get the car and Chase would provide cover fire while the teens were extracted.
As Colton and Coach Carey approached the rear exit, a small light flashed on and off several times from the third window to the left of the door. Suddenly, the door slowly opened and Beau stuck his head out into the night air.
Colton ran toward Beau.
“Alex?” he asked.
“She’s gonna be okay, Mr. Ryman. Come on in. We have to hurry.”
Colton pushed past Beau and stumbled into the dark corridor.
“Hey, Dad.” Beau gave his father a hug.
“You okay?”
“Yes, sir. Follow me.”
Colton followed Beau, but when he turned toward the third door, Colton raced past.
“Alex, oh, honey. Alex, are you okay? How’re you feelin’?”
“I’m fine, Daddy. My head hurts and my ears are still ringing a little. The doctor said I’ll be fine with rest.”
“Thank God, Allie-Cat. Thanks to God that you’re okay.”
“Shhhh. Someone’s coming,” said Beau as he slipped into the room. Beau’s father immediately readied his gun and the two Careys prepared for the worst.
A flashlight illuminated the hall. Beau took a chance and stuck his head out of the doorway. The light was swinging from side to side, but in so doing, the white lab coat of Dr. Fulcher came into view.
Beau took a risk and entered the hallway, allowing himself to be seen. He flashed his penlight in Dr. Fulcher’s direction, who immediately returned the contact with two flashes. Dr. Fulcher moved past the scattered gurneys and greeted Beau.
“How’s my patient?” he asked nonchalantly.
“She’s fine,” replied Beau. “Her dad’s here now.”
Colton and the doctor exchanged pleasantries before Colton received a full analysis. After the two spent time alone, Dr. Fulcher provided some instructions to Alex.
“Young lady, you’re very lucky in more ways than one. There’s a lot of love in this room prepared to protect and support you. Do not let them, or me, down by trying to do too much. You need bed rest and plenty of fluids. Do not overexert. Are we clear?”
“Yes, Doctor. Thank you for saving my life.”
“Well, I don’t know about that.” He chuckled before continuing. “I believe that young man in the number one sweatshirt should be thanked for his efforts. Just don’t undo what we’ve accomplished, deal?”
“Yes, sir.”
Dr. Fulcher turned toward Beau and his father. He handed them a set of keys. “I’m going to give you my car. It’s an old Chevy Suburban that has been retrofitted into an ambulance. You are no longer safe in Savannah. Junior’s men are already dubious about the man with two broken legs.”
“What?” asked Coach Carey.
“I’ll explain later, Dad,” replied Beau. “Doc, there’s another man in a room up the hallway. He, um, slipped and fell in the shower. I tied him up so he couldn’t hurt himself.”
“Yeah, sure, I’ll deal with him when you folks have hit the road,” said Dr. Fulcher. “The ambulance is parked at the north loading dock. Everyone is preoccupied up front for now. I suggest you avoid the main entrance.”
Beau shook his hand. “We will. Thank you, Doc. We’ll probably see ya around.”
Chapter 9
4:40 a.m., November 2
Savannah
Alex was carefully transferred from her bed to the stretcher
located in the back of the old Suburban-turned-ambulance. Beau and Coach Carey occupied the front seat while Colton sat in the single rear seat, watching over his daughter for changes in her medical condition.
Chase waved from the side street in the direction of his father. “They’re all inside. We’re good to go.”
The two vehicles needed to cross the open space created by Highway 64 and then work their way through the neighborhoods over to Florence Road. The most direct route to their destination was along Highway 128, where Coach Carey’s house was located, but that part of town was buzzing with Junior’s men. The fifteen-mile trip would take longer through the east part of the county, but they were far less likely to encounter trouble.
Beau led the way as the two cars crossed the main drag without incident. They had kicked Junior in the teeth and he was surely hoppin’ mad. The town was starting to settle into the early morning hours, but deputies were sure to be buzzin’ about. Undoubtedly, daylight would bring quite the gathering at the Hardin County Detention Center.
Just past the entrance to the Kroger store, Coach Carey instructed his son to pull over into the parking lot of the U-Haul Center.
“Here’s where I get out,” he said, turning to Colton. “We have several apartments down at the Savannah Village, which are used for lying low. I suspect the town will be busy in the morning. It’s best I stay away.”
“Coach, thank you for helping us,” said Colton. “I don’t know what we would’ve done if it wasn’t for you, Beau, and the rest of the team. God bless all of you.”
“Don’t you say another word, Colton. We’re in this together, and I, for one, despite the circumstances, am glad that you folks are still around.”
“I agree with Dad,” said Beau. “I’m sorry Alex had to go through this, but it was very nice to see her again. And, um, you too, of course.” Beau slumped down in his seat and pulled his sweatshirt hoodie over his head.
“Oh, I see how it is,” said Colton, laughing. “The hometown hero only wants to save the pretty girl. Sure, okay.”
“I’m just kiddin’, Mr. Ryman,” protested Beau.
Coach Carey laughed and patted Beau on the shoulder. “I’m proud of you, son. Now listen, you know where to go, right?”
“Yes, sir. I’ll be out of radio range. Can I stay with Alex for a couple of days?”
“Sure, but how about this. Make your way up to the Pentecostal Church at Scooter Road around noon each day and check in. An all clear on both ends will let us know you’re okay. Plus, I wanna hear how Alex is doin’.”
“Deal,” said Beau, who gave his father a fist bump.
“Colton, you wanna sit up here?”
“No, thanks, Coach. I need to keep an eye on Alex.”
Coach Carey closed the door and gave his son a thumbs-up. He waved to the Allens as they passed and then he jogged into the dark streets of Savannah.
Beau drove along in silence until they reached two stalled cars blocking the road at Walkertown. They approached slowly and Colton readied his weapon. He looked to the Oldsmobile driven by Jake and saw that Chase had the barrel of his rifle pointed out the window.
“We’re about to intersect with Highway 128, but we could push just a little farther east and take the airport road down,” said Beau as he stopped short of the stalled cars. The road forked and an unobstructed option appeared to his left.
“Do that,” said Colton. “None of us are in the mood for any more trouble tonight.”
Beau turned down a country road and led them on a more circuitous route along the edge of the Hardin County Airport.
Colton constantly checked on Alex. She was so peaceful. Madison had raised her to become a beautiful, intelligent young woman. He wasn’t sure what the key to success was in raising any child. Perhaps it was the fact that Alex was an only child and they could devote all of their attention to her. Maybe it was the way they’d treated her growing up, like a small adult. The Rymans always included her in conversations. They spent time discussing current events and were active in her school lessons. Even as Colton’s career demanded more of his time, he’d find a way to engage his daughter in conversation in the evening or on weekends. Raising a kid took some effort, but moreover, it took dedication.
Beau continued past the airport, where a large banner read American Barnstormers Tour: Fun Fly Savannah. Several vintage aircraft were parked on the tarmac near the small terminal. They looked like extravagantly painted crop dusters although one plane resembled the plane flown by the Red Baron in his infamous battle with Snoopy.
Just shy of the intersection of Highway 128, Beau slowed to a stop and jumped out of the car. He ran back to Jake and spoke for a moment before returning.
“Is everything okay?” asked Colton.
“Yes, sir. I wanted to remind them that this road may have Junior’s men traveling up and down it, although I doubt it. I also told them that if we get separated for some reason, Nixon’s Loop is the first right after the fourth church.”
“Over the river and through the woods, right?” said Colton, laughing.
“I guess so,” replied Beau, who seemed confused by the reference to the old song. “Anyway, first we have the Methodists, then the Baptists, followed by the Episcopalians, and last on the right are the Pentecostals.”
“That sounds like the correct order,” said Colton under his breath.
“Sir?” asked Beau, looking into the rearview mirror at Colton as he eased southbound on the highway.
“Nothing. How much farther?”
“Maybe ten minutes or so,” replied Beau, who picked up speed on the deserted highway with the Olds right on his bumper.
Colton began to nod off when Beau turned off the highway. He made a series of turns and loops that would require dropping bread crumbs to find their way out. This was what Colton meant by over the river and thru the woods. It reminded him of the road out to Old Man Percy’s place. He hoped the old guy was okay.
The faint glow of the sun rising allowed a little better view of his surroundings. They were in the middle of rich bottomland along the east bank of the Tennessee River. Small farmhouses dotted the landscape, including an occasional abandoned tractor. Occasionally, a cow stood solemnly in a field, chewing its cud.
A long thicket of trees created a natural fence along a creek that ran parallel to the river. Beau crossed a wooden bridge made of railroad ties, and the thumping against the Suburban’s old frame woke up Alex.
“Daddy?”
“Hey, Allie-Cat. You’ve been a good sleeper.” Colton used the words from when she was a child. Alex would always be his little girl in many respects.
She tried to turn her head toward the front of the car but winced in pain.
“Beau?”
“Hey, Alex,” he replied. “We’re almost there.”
The road opened up into an enormous farm completely surrounded by a white fence. They were greeted by the black-and-white faces of more than two dozen dairy cows.
“Well, hello,” said Colton as Beau drove past several onlookers.
“They’re Holsteins,” said Beau. “This is Croft Dairies.”
Colton saw the sun peak over the horizon to their rear. Like the ranches on the west side of the river, this represented a world that those in the city could never understand. Peace, serenity, and privacy were the norm. People should strive for this, not the prime corner unit in the newest high-rise.
“Give me a minute,” said Beau as he parked the truck and turned off the engine. The door slammed closed, leaving them in silence.
Chapter 10
6:00 a.m., November 2
Croft Dairies
Nixon, Tennessee
Rhoda Croft was the widow of Master Sergeant Willie Croft, former U.S. Army Ranger. The Croft family had lived in and around Hardin County since the Civil War. Willie’s ancestors were slaves used by the Confederate Army to run supplies up and down the river to Pickwick Landing. While the Battle of Shiloh had been fought on the west of
the river, the Confederates had planned an ingenious attack upon Savannah by circling around the rear flank of Grant’s Union Army. The opportunity never arose, as the Confederates became bogged down and were unable to supply sufficient manpower for the incursion from the southeast.
Following the war, the Croft family settled in the rural community of Nixon, Tennessee, and were given a forty-acre parcel of river bottom to farm. The family later expanded and by the mid-1900s, they owned over a hundred acres. As the TVA waterway system came to fruition, the entrepreneurial Croft family saw an opportunity to create a thriving dairy business on their land and Croft Dairies was born.
Rhoda Croft had volunteered her facilities to the Hardin County School system to enhance their FFA program. FFA, originally known as the Future Farmers of America, was an organization dedicated to the agricultural education of young people. It was through this program that Rhoda met Coach Carey.
Coach Carey wanted his players to consider getting involved in skill-learning activities during their off-season and many came to Croft Dairies to learn from Rhoda. Miss Rhoda, as the local families came to know her, targeted the teenage girls of Hardin County for the FFA program.
She felt in today’s society, every young woman should learn to be self-reliant and grow up with an entrepreneurial spirit. During her introductory remarks to her new charges, Rhoda would remind them that achievement would lift young women to levels of confidence and respect, not whether they could burn their bras or abort their babies. She felt strongly that young women were being misguided by political slogans to their detriment. Her beliefs resonated, and as a result, most high-school-age girls volunteered at least one summer at Croft Dairies as part of the FFA program.
Following the collapse, when it became apparent that the Durhams intended to enslave the young women of Savannah to do their bidding, Coach Carey immediately approached Rhoda about taking the girls in and hiding them. She agreed without hesitation and encouraged many of her neighbors to do so as well.