by C. G. Cooper
None of the men walked on the road, and Johnny stayed on the leftmost flank, affording a view of the house. He couldn’t wait to put a bullet in someone’s head.
+++
I looked at my watch, counting down the seconds to Hollie’s cue. Right on time, the booms sounded from the four sticks of dynamite we’d buried in the ground.
+++
Most of Johnny’s men fell to the ground, clods of dirt raining down all around them. Some screamed, one ran back toward the road and more than one pissed their pants. Johnny seethed. The next motherfucker who pusses out gets a shotgun blast in the face.
He hissed for the others to get moving. They did so, albeit reluctantly. Johnny strode ahead, marching down the middle of the drive.
+++
Breath in. Breath out. Slow pull. BANG.
+++
The man to Johnny’s left went down, clutching his stomach. Two more mercenaries turned and ran. Six left standing.
+++
Breath still out. Shift. Slow pull. BANG.
+++
Next down was the guy to Johnny’s right. The whole line stopped at the sound of the man’s scream.
“This ain’t worth it, fellas,” said another man. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”
Three more ran the way they’d come. That left Johnny and the only cousin he’d brought. They looked at each other, and sprinted toward the house.
+++
I lost the shot as the two forms crossed behind a flaming haystack. A form reappeared on the far side, BANG.
+++
Johnny didn’t look back. He had to find cover and the house was the nearest place. Safety was all he could think of. It never occurred to him that going to the house was what Daniel wanted.
+++
I waved to Hollie, our signal that it was time for me to head to the house and deal with any stragglers. I’d seen the man’s face illuminated. It was Johnny Laney. Just the man I wanted to talk to.
+++
Johnny’s large frame burst through the screen door, sending him tumbling into the house. He was up in a flash, shotgun searching. It was dark, rays of orange flickering in from the fires outside like some kind of sick horror movie.
“Where are you?!” Johnny screamed, shooting two blasts into the ceiling.
“Right behind you.”
+++
Johnny whipped his weapon around to where I’d been standing a moment before. BOOM. I rolled to the side, finding cover behind a couch, the shotgun blasting through the front door.
Pivoting, I grabbed a lamp and heaved it in his general direction, quickly to return in a explosion of glass, my adversary not being a novice with his weapon.
A shadow in the doorway. “Put the gun down, son.”
I heard Johnny pivot on the creaky hardwood floor and fire. BOOM.
My ears ringing, I poked my head out to where the voice had come from. Hollie lay in the doorway. My world went red, I reverted inward, and attacked.
Chapter 16
“Like I said, Mr. Laney, we went up there, and all hell rained down. It was like a fucking war zone.”
Max Laney stood listening, eyes blazing. “Where is my grandson?”
The scruffy survivor gulped. “He kept going. Lost sight of him after he went into the house.”
“And you ran.”
“Ye…yes, sir.”
Laney turned around. “Get out of my house.”
“What about our money?”
“I would have paid if you’d done what you were supposed to do, not run away like a coward.”
“But…”
Max Laney whipped around, much faster than his years should’ve allowed, a pistol aimed at the young man’s head. “I said, get out of my house.”
+++
Chief Knox rubbed the sleep from his eyes and grabbed his work phone. “Hello?”
“Sir, it’s Simon.”
“What the hell time is it?”
“It’s just after midnight.”
“This better be good.”
“We’ve gotten a couple calls complaining about explosions out by the Herndon farm.”
Knox’s eyes popped open. “When?”
“A few minutes ago.”
“Did you send anyone out there?”
“No, sir. That’s why I’m calling you.”
“Good. Don’t worry about it. Got a call earlier, said the State would be doing some blasting tonight. No big deal. Something about extending utilities, I think.”
“In the middle of the night?”
“Like I said, don’t worry about it.”
The dispatcher hesitated momentarily. “Would you like me to call back the people who called in?”
“That’s a good idea, Simon. You might make a decent cop just yet.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Knox ended the call, setting the phone back on his night stand. He’d gotten a call earlier in the day, but it had been from Max Laney, essentially telling him to turn a blind eye. Darryl Knox did what he was told. He owed Max Laney too much.
Without another thought on the topic, he rolled over and was asleep in less than a minute.
+++
Hands covered in blood, I ran over to Hollie. “Hollie, Hollie, are you okay?”
He groaned, moving his right arm. “I think he just winged me. Shitty shot just like his granddaddy.”
I breathed a sigh of relief, having feared the worst. After turning on the lights, I inspected Hollie’s arm. “I think you’re right. Your left arm’s bleeding pretty badly.” Looking around, I grabbed a clean shirt from the stack of laundry I’d folded earlier in the day.
“Damn that hurts.” Hollie watched as I did my best to stem the blood flow. “You do this before?”
I nodded.
“Afghanistan?”
Another nod. “That should do it until we can get you to the hospital.”
With more strength than I expected, the old man sat up. “First things first. What are you gonna do with him?”
I looked at the bloody form across the room. Johnny Laney lay in a puddle of his own blood. I winced at the sight, recognizing the carnage left by the skills I’d acquired in my past life. The assault remained a blur. I’d acted on instinct. Luckily, unlike before, this time I’d stopped short of killing the man.
“Help me up. We’ve got work to do.”
Standing up, I reached down and helped Hollie. Cleanup time.
Chapter 17
Max Laney paced, a crystal tumbler in hand, his third. There hadn’t been a word from his grandson. The rest of the cowards had apparently scattered leaving him without a way of knowing what happened.
A series of honks sounded from the front yard. Laney walked to the entryway, one hand still gripping his pistol. Some vehicle moved slowly up the drive. Squinting, he realized it was Johnny’s truck. “Finally.”
Laney opened the front door and stepped outside, waiting. The truck kept coming, then ran over a part of the perfectly manicured shrubbery, still rolling forward. He couldn’t see through the high beams, attempting to shield his eyes with a hand.
The truck missed part of curb cruising right through the dew covered grass. It wasn’t stopping. Frantically, Max Laney moved aside as Johnny truck made a bee line for the front door, finally ramming into the structure, crumbling brick and dry wall as it went. The pickup stopped, engine still revving.
Cautiously, weapon extended, Max Laney approached the vehicle. There was a burlap sheet bound over the truck bed. He ignored it and moved to the cab seeing the back of someone’s head in the driver’s seat.
“Put your hands up!” yelled Laney.
No response.
“I said, put your hands up!”
Nothing.
Moving in an exaggerated crouch, Laney closed the remaining distance, flinging the driver’s side door open. He looked down his gun sight to see Johnny, face badly beaten, his entire front covered in blood, duct taped to the steering wheel, foot stuc
k to the accelerator.
Laney’s eyes went wide, one hand shooting up to check for a pulse. Alive.
Next, his composure regained, he moved back to the truck bed. Someone had secured the burlap with what looked like parachord. Laney quickly untied one end and flung the sheet back. Piled inside like firewood were three of Johnny’s crew, duct taped like mummies and just starting to regain consciousness.
+++
“What do you think he’ll do?”
Hollie shrugged, causing him to wince. “I guess we’ll see.”
We’d just left Max Laney his package and were headed to a 24-hour clinic a town away. The official story would be that I’d accidentally shot him. It sounded ridiculous to both of us, but like Hollie said, “People will believe most anything you tell them as long as you say it with a straight face.”
He was right. No one batted an eye when Hollie checked himself in at the emergency clinic. All procedure. It made me wonder how many firearm accidents they handled annually.
The only downside was that they asked for Hollie’s next of kin, of which he had none, and I volunteered to give my name. They checked it against my worn military ID card, and not another word was said.
Chapter 18
They called a physician who was part of Laney’s extended family. He wasn’t happy about the late night visit, but he couldn’t say no. Max Laney was the one who’d co-signed for his medical school loan. It wasn’t the first time the favor had been called.
“I think Johnny got the worst of it. Lacerations to the face and he may have a broken cheekbone. How did you say this happened?”
Max Laney frowned. “I didn’t. Can you take care of him here?”
“I’d highly recommend he at least get an x-ray…”
“I said, can you take care of him here?”
The doctor nodded slowly, ready to say anything to get away from the lunatic. “I’ll have to put in a few stitches, and I can write up a prescription for some pain meds.”
“Fine. How about the others?” Laney pointed at the three men sitting nervously around the kitchen table.
“Looks like it was some kind of tranquilizer dart. I would’ve been worried if they hadn’t woken up, but since they’re up, the full effects should wear off by sunrise.”
Laney nodded and the three men breathed a sigh of relief. Each one had thought they’d died taking a bullet in the raid.
“Can we go now, Mr. Laney?” one of the three dared to ask.
He got a curt nod in response. They didn’t waste a second in leaving.
+++
I drove the truck slowly up the drive, taking in the wreckage in the pit we’d dug hours before. “That was a great idea.”
“We did a lot of that in Korea. Stupid Communists would roll right down the road, not taking a second look and bam, the first vehicle dropped the column stopping with them. You were the one that got us out with the hay bale idea and your shooting.”
I chuckled. “It didn’t hurt that you just happened to have a tranquilizer gun lying around along with a few sticks of dynamite.”
“What can I say? I was a boy scout growing up. Be prepared, right?”
“Right.”
Hollie yawned. “When it gets light out we can pull those trucks out and fill the hole in.”
“You don’t think Laney will try it again?”
“Max Laney is a mean son-of-a-bitch, but he’s not stupid. I’ll bet my life that he’ll try something else. We just have to be ready.”
At that moment, I had no idea how we were going to get ourselves out of the mess.
+++
Thirty three stitches later, the doctor departed. No thanks was given as he walked out the kitchen door, the front door still an impassable mess.
Laney stood over his grandson, arms crossed. “Tell me everything, from the beginning.”
“Come on, granddad. Can’t I go to bed?”
“You’ll sit there and tell me what happened or I’ll smack you around myself. Now, tell me.”
Johnny huffed and retold the story.
“You sure you shot Hollie?” asked Laney, after listening to each detail intently. He had to give it to the two, they’d caught him by surprise. That didn’t happen, ever.
“Yeah. Came in the front door and I shot him.”
“Do you think you killed him?”
“I don’t know. After I saw him fall, the other guy… He was like an animal. I couldn’t stop him.”
Laney seethed. “You had a shotgun and you couldn’t take down an unarmed man?”
“I…I can’t explain it. It was something in his eyes. I could see that he was going to kill me.”
“But he didn’t.”
Johnny didn’t have a response. Truthfully, he was scared. He’d expected a simple in and out. Instead, he had encountered a demon. The implications rushed through his mind as he tried to shake the feeling of unease. Laney saw the look on his grandson’s face. “Snap out of it! He’s just a man! Do you know how many men I’ve killed?!”
Johnny nodded, looking away.
Laney grabbed him by the chin, blood squeezing out of the gauze bandage. “He’s dead, you hear me? One way or another, he’s dead.”
+++
I helped Hollie into bed. He didn’t complain once. Tough old soldier. “Good night.”
“Good night, Daniel. Good work tonight.”
“I’m not so sure about that.”
Hollie’s eyes opened, appraising me. “You did the right thing, son. Nobody got killed and you didn’t hurt anyone that didn’t deserve it.”
“Maybe we should’ve called the police.”
“Maybe, but that’s water under the bridge. We’re men. We made our beds and now we have to lay in them. I’ll tell you this, I don’t regret a single thing.”
I pointed to his bandaged arm. “You sure?”
“I had a lot of worse in the Army. Now stop beating yourself up about this. You’re a good man. I believe in you. Besides, it felt good being in an ambush again. Reminded me of my time in the Army.”
Forcing a smile, I patted him on his good hand. “Get some sleep. I’ll keep a lookout.”
Hollie suddenly seemed much older as he closed his eyes, fading to sleep instantly.
I watched his breathing, standing sentinel still. Finally, I clicked off the overhead light and left the room, floor creaks following me outside.
The smell of burnt hay still hung in the air, rekindling old memories, thoughts I didn’t want to have. I grabbed Hollie’s Garand from the front porch, checked the chamber and settled in one of the adirondack chairs. It would be another sleepless night. Snake Eyes took up his post, waiting, ready for the enemy. Even awake, sitting in the dark, the nightmares came, like moths to a flame.
Chapter 19
The sun had barely cracked the horizon, and a construction crew was already hard at work repairing the Laney complex. Max Laney watched the work, sipping an espresso, planning his day. He’d made two appointments, the first of which he would soon be leaving for.
The phone buzzed in his linen pant pocket.
“Laney.”
“Mr. Laney, it’s Darryl Knox.”
“What is it, chief? I’m a little busy.”
“Yes, sir. Well, I just got some news that I thought you might like to hear.”
“Yes?”
“Got a call this morning from a colleague in Santa Rosa Beach. You see, we get reports of gunshot wounds from clinics and hospitals.”
“Can you please get to the point?”
“Yes, sir. My friend called to give me a heads-up that Mr. Herndon got checked out early this morning at a twenty-four hour clinic in Santa Rosa.”
“And?”
“He listed his next-of-kin as a Daniel Briggs.”
Laney smiled. “Good work, Darryl. I assume you’re looking into this Mr. Briggs?”
“We are.”
“Good. You let me know what you find out. Come up with anything good and I’ll throw in a
n all expenses paid vacation for you.”
Laney ended the call before Knox could trip over himself.
“Daniel Briggs.”
+++
I was dragging by the time I heard Hollie moving around inside. There hadn’t been a lot of sleep in the preceding days. I knew I was reaching my limit. I’d have to sleep sometime, but I dreaded it.
Hollie opened what was left of the front door. “You hungry?”
“I’ll make breakfast. You take a seat out here.”
“Won’t complain about that.”
I could see he was in pain. I’d never been shot, but I knew plenty of people who had. They always said I was indestructible because I always seemed to walk away without a scratch. If they could only see my soul. I felt more like a bad luck charm.
“Eggs and toast okay?”
Hollie nodded, grimacing as he eased into the porch chair.
I brought breakfast out for Hollie and we sat eating quietly, enjoying the uncharacteristically cool morning.
Hollie sniffed the air. “Storm’s coming.”
Looking up at the sky, I couldn’t disagree. You could feel the drop in barometric pressure.
He put his plate on the ground. “I was thinking about how they found Kelly in Rosemary Beach. How do you think she got there?”
“Probably drifted.”
“I don’t know if it’ll help, but I’ve got a boat docked in Panama City Beach. Wonder if it might be good idea to take a gander.”
“What do you think we’d find?”
“Not sure, but I know the Laneys have a couple boats down there too. Might be good to take a look around.”