“And since your daughter’s only chance of being rescued lies in you, you won’t be doing her any favors by getting yourself killed. You’ll be condemning her to a hard and miserable life. A life in which she’ll wonder each and every day why you never came after her. Because she likely won’t know that you tried and died.”
“Okay. You have my undivided attention. What’s the whole plan?”
“Like I said, I worry every time I go in there. But I’ve been lucky and managed to get back out every time so far.
“I have a much better chance of coming out if I go in alone. The I-40 is no-man’s land. It doesn’t belong to any one faction. That’s because they decided early on to leave the highway open to let travelers pass through instead of taking shortcuts through their territories. That’s why they have their names painted on cars at all the highway exits. To warn people not to leave the highway.”
“Okay. With you so far…”
“I’ll drop you off on the highway, before we get to the Dalton’s Raiders’ exit. You can pretend you’re a highway nomad, and just hang around one of the abandoned trucks like you’re looking for socks or something.
“I’ll go in and do my normal drops. And while I’m there I’ll tell them I heard about the red pickup drawn by two horses and ask if they’ve seen it. They’re much more likely to tell me where it is than they’d tell you. You’re an outsider. At least they know me.”
“Okay. Then what?”
“They’ll demand to know why I’m looking for it. And I’ll tell them the same story as before. That I’m going to start running hooch. But that my Polaris isn’t big enough. So I’ll tell them I’ll start coming twice a week. One day to deliver my dope on the Polaris. And that I’ll take orders for the hooch on that day. I’ll come back on another day, late in the same week, in the red wagon. And the red pickup will be loaded down with liquor.”
“Okay, let me play devil’s advocate here. Once you find out where the pickup is, won’t it look suspicious if you just leave without it?”
“Probably. So what I’ll do is go find it. I’ll tell the old couple I don’t want to buy it. I want to lease it. I’ll tell them I don’t know beans about how to drive a horse drawn pickup truck, or how to take care of horses.
“I’ll tell them I’ll pay them handsomely to drive the wagon outside of Dalton’s territory to a warehouse where I have all the liquor stashed. I’ll tell them they can help me load it, and then they can go with me to deliver it all one day a week.
“Whatever they want, I’ll promise to pay them. If they want gold, I’ll agree to their terms. But I’ll negotiate just a little to make it look good. If they want to be paid in dope or booze, I’ll make that deal too.”
“Okay. Then what?”
“If we come to terms, I’ll try to get them to follow me out of their territory. To drive the pickup behind me. Once we’re safely away, we’ll turn east on I-40. I’ll tell them my warehouse is just a few miles away.”
Dave finished the thought for him.
“And once you’re on I-40, you’ll come right past me.”
“Exactly. You’ll see us coming half a mile away, but will stay under cover behind a truck or something until we pass by. Then you can walk up behind them. I’ll ride slightly behind them on the other side. We’ll draw our weapons at the same time and get the drop on them.
“There won’t be a damn thing they can do, besides stop and surrender your daughter.”
Chapter 26
Dave thought hard for several minutes trying to poke holes in the plan but couldn’t. It was a good plan indeed.
And it should work.
It had to work.
He could think of only one thing that might go wrong.
“What if they want to think about it first? After all, you’ll be a stranger just coming in out of nowhere, asking them to go to some strange place. They may not trust you.”
“I thought of that. If they do want to think about it, or want to wet their beak up front, I can work around that too.”
“Wet their what?”
“It’s an old Sicilian term. It means a taste. A taste of the goods. A kickback. They may not think I really have a warehouse full of liquor. They may say, bring us a case of Old Crow and a case of Dom so we’ll know you’re not just blowing smoke.”
“And if they do that?”
“Then I’ll play their game. I’ll get a case of each from one of my contacts, and I’ll take it to them as a gift. Hopefully it’ll whet their appetites and convince them I’m on the up and up. And if I can get them to come with me, the end result is the same. You’ll be waiting out here and we can get the drop on them. Take your daughter back without a shot being fired.”
“Okay. It’s a plan.”
“Food’s done. Let’s eat and get a good night’s sleep. Tomorrow’s gonna be a big day, and if all goes well we’ll be setting a third plate for your daughter tomorrow night.”
“Are you a praying man, Tony?”
“No. I stopped believing in God a long time ago.”
“Can I ask why?”
“I’ll give you the basics, as long as you don’t ask for details.”
“Okay.”
“Everything and everybody I ever loved, I lost. Some due to death, some to illness, some to my own stupidity. I’ve spent my whole life trying to be a good person. I didn’t always play by the rules. But they were man’s rules. Not the rules of your God. I never hurt anyone. Not intentionally. I generally tried to help people, as I’m helping you now.
“I would think that someone who tried to be good, who tried not to hurt anyone, would be rewarded in some way. Yet every time I fell in love I got heartbroken. Every time I tried to do something good I got punished. Every time I trusted a friend, I was betrayed. Everyone I ever loved, who ever loved me, is gone.
“Now, I don’t know what one has to do to be in good graces with your God. But I’m tired of waiting for something divine to happen in my life and getting stomped on. If this is the way your God treats someone who tries his best to be good, I’m not so sure I want anything to do with Him.”
This was not the time to get into a long theological debate. There were more pressing matters to contend with.
But that didn’t mean Dave would give up on his friend.
“Can we talk about this another time, Tony? Maybe give me a chance to show you a side you maybe haven’t considered?”
“I’ll always talk. What else do we have to do?”
“Good. I may be able to help you see the light.”
“Right now, Dave, the only light I see is an oncoming train. One that’s threatening to mow me down.”
“You’re my partner now, Tony. I’ll kick that train’s ass before it has a chance.”
Tony smiled.
“Can I ask you something, Dave?”
“Sure. Ask away.”
“You say you do believe in God…”
“Yes.”
“But you’ve killed.”
“Every time I’ve killed it was in self defense. Or to rescue my family, who they were holding hostage.”
“But the Bible says ‘Thou shalt not kill.’ It doesn’t list exceptions. At least I don’t remember any when my folks forced me to go to church. How do you reconcile that?”
“I’ve asked God for forgiveness and asked for his mercy.”
“So you think he’ll grant you a waiver based on circumstances?”
“That’s my hope, yes.”
“What about when you have no such excuse?”
“What do you mean?”
“When we get the drop on the couple who kidnapped your daughter and turned her into a slave, what do you plan to do with them?”
“I’ve thought about that a lot, actually. I think I’m going to take them out into the desert, far from civilization. I’m going to tie them to stakes and let them die of thirst.”
“On desert sands? Sounds sort of Biblical to me.”
“Exactly.”
Dave hesitated. His words of bravado sounded harsh, even to him.
“And you think your God would forgive you for that?”
He paused, then admitted, “Probably not.”
“There’s one more thing we haven’t discussed.”
“What’s that?”
“Before we leave here in the morning I’m going to draw you a map.”
“Of what and why?”
“Just in case. You were a Marine, didn’t you say?”
“Yes.”
“So was my dad. He loved being a Marine. He told me all kinds of stories about his Marine days when I was a kid. He taught me how to use a rifle, and some self-defense techniques. He loved the Corps.”
“So did I. I hope they can recover. It would be a shame to lose them after all this time.”
“My dad taught me something else about the Corps.”
“What was that?”
“He said Marines always had a Plan B. And then a Plan C. Contingency plans for their contingency plans, he called them.”
Dave smiled.
“Well, that’s true enough.”
“The map is in case they kill me. So you’ll know where to find Dalton and his leaders so you can deal with them another way.”
Chapter 27
On a sprawling ranch outside of Adelanto, California a 1982 Ford Ranger pickup sat gathering dust in the late afternoon sun.
A lizard sat dead center on the roof of the vehicle, soaking up the last rays of the sun, and hoping a passing fly might come within reach of his tongue.
One of the pickup’s tires was flat now, but it didn’t matter much anymore. The wheels hadn’t rolled in three months, and likely never would again.
The pickup had served its purpose. It had gotten Old Sal and Nellie to the high desert of southern California. In another era this land, sandwiched between Edwards Air Force Base, George Air Force Base and Lancaster, played a key role in the race to space and the moon.
Test pilots flew all manner of experimental aircraft through these skies.
This place, the city of Adelanto, was where puzzled residents went outside their homes and looked skyward after hearing the very first sonic boom.
The boom was created when Chuck Yeager first broke the sound barrier in the skies above them. But they didn’t know that. All they knew was they heard what sounded like an explosion. Their walls and dishes shook. Their dogs barked. Their babies cried.
They’d heard things like that in the past, when a test pilot’s luck ran out and he crashed into the ground.
The Air Force didn’t like that word: “crashed.”
They preferred the term “impacted with ground.” It was more aesthetically pleasing.
But it meant the same thing.
The people in Adelanto, and in nearby Victorville, came out of their homes and looked around for the smoke of a crashed jet on that day back in 1947. They didn’t see any. So they went back inside and resumed their normal activities.
Those were the glory days for the high desert. It had been in a steady decline since. Eventually George Air Force Base closed, a victim of a downsized military and congressional scrambling to close facilities and save money.
The city of Victorville suffered. The city of Adelanto almost died as United States Air Force members were transferred en masse to other places.
Sal’s brother Benito, who was called Benny by everyone other than his parents, was one of the few winners.
On the day the announcement was made that George Air Force Base was closing, Benny was in his 1955 Apache pickup truck on his way home from nearby Las Vegas. On Highway 395, with his windows down and wind blowing through his hair, he heard the grim announcement on his Motorola in-dash radio.
And he laughed like a banshee.
No, he wasn’t insane.
He was rich.
It didn’t matter to Benny that as a civilian jet engine mechanic he would soon be out of a job.
It didn’t matter that the value of his property would fall by eighty percent over the coming weeks. That many of his neighbors would declare bankruptcy. That a couple would commit suicide.
None of that would matter at all.
For he’d just hit the Super Jackpot on a ten dollar slot machine at the Lucky Lady Casino.
And he had a check for $3.2 million folded up neatly in his wallet.
In the coming months, as Victorville cried and Adelanto died, Benny thrived.
He bought several small ranches for pennies on the dollar and consolidated them into the largest ranch in San Bernardino County. He bought two thousand head of cattle from a ranch which was mired in debt, for thirty dollars a head.
Even the broken willed people of Victorville had to eat.
He was one of the few success stories in the county in the disaster that the base closure was.
And as such, his ranch was the logical place for Sal to run when the whole world fell apart. Because he knew his brother would find a way to turn the blackout to his advantage. To make big money off of it.
Benny just had that kind of luck.
They’d arrived three months before, he and Nellie and Becky.
And now they were settled in their own house on Benny’s sprawling ranch. They were doing well. Helping Benny run the ranch, and reaping in the rewards.
And still trying to convince an eight year old girl that she was their grandchild.
Chapter 28
It wasn’t easy. Beth was a headstrong girl by nature, and smart beyond her years.
She knew there was something inherently wrong with a couple just buying a child and trying to convince her she was someone she knew she wasn’t.
“If you wanted to brainwash somebody, you shouldn’t have bought me. You should have bought yourself a baby who didn’t know any better.”
Her defiant tone disappointed Sal, who was raised in a family who didn’t tolerate attitude. In Sal’s family, insolence and defiance in children was met with a backhand across the face, followed by an evening or two sitting in the corner without supper.
But Sal had mellowed in his old age. And that was good for Beth, because it spared her the sting of his hand across her face.
Instead, he tried to reason with her, when Nellie wasn’t within earshot.
“Look here, child. We didn’t buy you. We adopted you. There’s a big difference. The man we paid the adoption fee to said it was all legal. That they represented the state and had licenses and permits and everything else they needed to run an orphanage.”
“You’re a liar.”
“Please don’t argue with me, child. You should respect your elders, or you can’t expect others to respect you when you get old like us. To get respect you must give it. Remember that, child. It’s one of the most valuable of life’s lessons.”
She was unmoved.
“That man you talked to wasn’t running an orphanage. He was keeping my mother and me and my sister hostage. He sold me and you bought me. I was not adopted. Please take me back to my mommy.”
“The man at the orphanage said you’ve been through a lot. That you lost both your parents and your four brothers. He said you’re sometimes delusional, but that it would pass with time and love and patience.
“We will be good parents to you, dear Becky. I know you can never love us as much as you did your mother and father and brothers. I know that. But someday you’ll learn to love us as well. Once you see that we want only the best for you. That we provide for you, and protect you, and make sure your belly is full each night when you go to bed.
“All I ask is that you be patient with us, as we are with you.”
“Please, stop calling me Becky. My name is Beth, and it always will be.”
Part of what he was saying was the truth.
The couple did care for her, and even seemed to love her. Old Sal was often grumpy, but Beth could see he was a good man at heart.
Nellie was good to her. They’d sat together on the seat of the old pickup tr
uck as Sal sat on the wooden bench he’d fashioned in the truck’s engine compartment. As he steered the horses along the highways, the two got to know one another.
The old woman was confused, and thought young Beth was her granddaughter. Insisted on calling her Becky.
And although Beth was quick to argue with Sal about her name, she sensed a frailty in Nellie’s mind. She didn’t understand what Alzheimer’s was, but she could tell the feeble old woman meant her no harm.
“Why,” Sal asked Beth once, “do you let Nellie call you Becky without complaint, but you won’t allow me to do the same?”
Beth took a deep breath before responding to him. As though she were a patient mother dealing with a petulant child.
“Because she doesn’t know any better. It doesn’t hurt to humor her. You, on the other hand, do know better. And besides, I want to keep my own identity for the day my daddy comes looking for me. If Nellie calls me Becky and you call me Becky, then I’m liable to forget who I really am.”
“Honey, if I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a thousand times. Your daddy isn’t coming to get you. Your family is dead. All of them. The man at the orphanage told me so.”
In the end, they agreed to disagree about the whole adoption thing as well as the name.
Life at Benny’s ranch wasn’t lavish. But it was comfortable compared to the hardscrabble lives most of the other survivors were living. There was plenty to eat, other children to play with. Nellie and Sal seemed to love her, and Beth was growing fond of them.
And although Beth did have chores to do, so did everybody else.
All in all, her situation wasn’t at all like her parents imagined. She was not being abused. She was not sold into slavery.
Although she missed her parents and often cried herself to sleep at night, hers was not a bad lot.
Chapter 29
Beth did give one other concession to Nellie, in addition to answering when the old woman called her Becky.
She called her “Grandma.”
It was awkward at first but Beth, who’d turned eight not long before, was a very wise child.
On Desert Sands: Alone: Book 6 Page 8