by Jack Hunt
“You have to,” Richard said. “We need to deal with this now.”
“I can’t.”
Richard crouched again and gripped him hard around the back of the neck and looked directly into his eyes. “You want to go to jail?”
He shook his head.
“We all make mistakes. I know the chief, and have worked closely with the police department over the years, but I can assure you, there are some things that are over my head and this is one. So get up. Head out now with me and let’s get this fixed.”
Richard pulled him up to his feet and they went out to the truck and returned to Eric’s home. Richard dealt with the matter showing no emotion. He laid out a tarp and had Eric roll the body into it. After wrapping Ricky, they carried his body to the truck and placed him in the back. All the while, Eric kept looking around nervously, expecting his neighbor Peter Jones to show up asking if he’d seen his son. He didn’t. No one came knocking that night and they got rid of his body just north of Frisco. They threw his body into a shallow ditch and covered it with soil, then piled rocks on top. When they were done, Richard stepped back and wiped sweat from his brow. He leaned against a shovel and stared at the spot. “We never speak of this again after tonight. You understand?”
Eric nodded.
Richard tossed the gun into the Dillon Reservoir.
“Some things are best kept between us. Terrible things have happened tonight that we can’t change but we can move forward and make sure that this town stays strong. I’m going to need your help, Eric. I can’t do it alone.”
Eric stared at him without saying anything.
“When there is no more gas for the generators, and no more food. These kinds of things will happen again. So I don’t want you to hit that bottle. I need you to stay clearheaded.”
“What if people ask questions?” Eric asked.
“You don’t know. You never saw him. You never heard anything. That’s it.”
“And the door and frame?”
“No one is going to question it or connect it to the kid’s disappearance. If asked you say you lost your keys so you had to break in.”
Eric pursed his lips and felt tears welling up inside of him. He wasn’t one given to crying but with the loss of Helen and now this, it was all too much. If his parents ever found out he couldn’t bear it.
“I appreciate your help, Richard. I really do. If there is anything you need, I will be there. Anything.”
Richard turned to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. “I plan to hold you to that. You see, one day, Eric, there might come a time when I call upon you for help. No matter what I ask you to do. You’re going to do it. You understand?”
Eric didn’t respond as he wasn’t sure what he meant. Richard gripped him hard. “Do you understand?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay, good. We’ll go back and clean up the blood and burn the rags. Then I want you to join me in the morning for breakfast. We have a big day ahead of us and a lot to get done in this town.”
With that said Eric watched Richard stroll back to the truck and toss the shovel in before getting in the driver’s side. Eric looked one last time at the mound of rocks before he joined him. As they returned to Breckenridge that evening, Eric knew his life would never be the same again. He’d stepped over a threshold from which there was no turning back. He was indebted to the father of the woman he would never see again, in a town that was on the brink of collapse.
TWENTY-ONE - DISCOVERY
Amanda wouldn’t take no for an answer and she wouldn’t wait for morning. “I have to know,” she said. Sam sighed, brought a hand up to the bridge of his nose, and squeezed, feeling a tension headache coming on.
“Where did you last see him?”
“On Genesee Street near the pizza place. East of here.”
He nodded. “Let’s go then.”
She didn’t question or hesitate. Amanda got up and both of them headed for the Jeep.
“You’re not going out there?” Anna asked.
“We won’t be longer than five minutes. A quick check and then we’ll return.”
He crossed the large gym and opened the double doors. Amanda hopped into the passenger side. “I’m coming with you then,” Anna said.
“No, you stay here.”
“Oh because it’s too dangerous out there?”
“Yeah.”
“But not dangerous enough for you.”
“You know, Anna, I know we don’t exactly see eye to eye right now but everything I am doing is for you.”
“And I appreciate that but what happens if you run into the same guys?”
“Leave that with me,” Sam said adjusting the rifle on his shoulder and crouching down to get some more ammo out of a backpack.
As he went to get in, Bobby came back into the building. “Oh no you don’t!”
“Gotta do a run, old man.”
“Not in my vehicle you won’t.”
“Then come with us.”
Sam noticed Anna shake her head and walk off.
“I’m not going out there until morning. Got no reason to.”
“How about backing me up? That a good enough reason?” Sam said.
“Nope,” he said placing his hand on the rear of the truck as if he could prevent them from leaving.
“Get out of the way, Bobby.”
“It’s my Jeep, I call the shots.”
“Then get in or get out of the way.”
Bobby shook his head. This guy was starting to piss Sam off. He hopped out and walked around to the back. “How about you and I have a little chat over here?” he said motioning a short distance away. Bobby’s eyes bounced from Amanda to him. Sam walked over to the bleachers so he was out of earshot of Amanda.
He hesitated but then Bobby made his way over.
“I get it. I really do. You don’t want anything untoward happening to the Jeep, and maybe I wouldn’t have a problem with that if it was your Jeep but it’s not.”
Bobby stepped forward narrowing his eyes. “That’s my property.”
“Really?” Sam nodded and shifted his weight from one foot to the next. “Then maybe you can explain why your name doesn’t appear on the license, and you can tell me who this guy is in the photo I found above the sun visor.” Sam reached into his top pocket and dropped them on the floor near his feet. Bobby looked down and then met his gaze. “The lady in the bedroom is in the photo as well. They sure look cozy together.” He paused waiting for Bobby to jump in but he didn’t. “She wasn’t your wife, was she?”
“Yes she was,” he spat back with venom in his tone.
“Don’t bullshit me, Bobby. You’re not back at the house pretending you’re disabled. Now you want to tell me the truth or do I need to go and speak with the others and let them decide what we do with you?”
Bobby crouched and scooped up the photo. He stared at the woman in the snapshot. “She was my ex-wife. I was married to her for twenty-eight years. Twenty-eight years! I gave everything to her. Treated her well. Made sure if she needed anything she had it. Then one day, I came home early from the factory, brought her flowers, and was going to surprise her. I walked in to find male clothes strewn all over the kitchen floor and out in the hallway. Then I heard her upstairs. I followed the trail of her clothes and pushed open the door while they were still in the act. She was fucking this guy. Earl Donavon. And you know the irony? Guy worked for the same factory as I did. He was my supervisor.” He sighed and shook his head. “Even then when you think I should have reacted I didn’t. I walked out of there and left them to it. The divorce was finalized a year later. I moved out and had to watch him move in.” He scoffed. “She took me for everything I had.”
Sam stared back at him.
“There were no intruders, were there? It was you.”
Bobby’s brow furrowed and he nodded. He slumped down onto one of the bleachers and put his rifle beside him.
“Did you kill your wife, Bobby?”
He looked over to where Amanda was seated then began to tell him what happened. “Two days after the lights went out I’d had a few too many drinks. I just wanted to talk to her. I wanted to know why. You know, I didn’t understand it. I never once did her wrong. I treated her like a goddamn queen.” He screwed his nose up. “So I went over there.”
“Did you own the SUV outside?” Sam asked.
“No, that was theirs as well.” He breathed in deeply and exhaled hard as if he was carrying a heavy weight. “I showed up that evening and Earl answered the door. I asked to speak to her but he refused and became belligerent telling me to get the hell off his property or he’d call the cops.” He smiled. “Call the cops? With no communication?”
He shook his head again and dropped his chin. “For an entire year I held my tongue. I don’t know how I managed to avoid a confrontation but something snapped in me that night when he slammed the door in my face. That was my home. My home. And here he was telling me to get off my own property. Here he was living in my house, making love to my wife and acting like he couldn’t be touched.”
“What did you do, Bobby?”
“I took back what was mine.” He scoffed as if finding something about it amusing. “You should have seen the look on his face when I busted open that door and fired the first round into him. He didn’t die. Earl scrambled up the stairs. My wife was in bed when it all happened. Earl made it to the bedroom and was in the process of getting a handgun out when I came up the stairs. He came out and I fired three shots. I didn’t see her behind him. I really didn’t. Two of the rounds struck him, the third missed and killed her instantly.”
Sam recalled the image of the woman on the bed, a round to the face, and an empty gun case nearby. Bobby looked up at the ceiling with pitiful eyes as though he was asking for forgiveness. “If I knew she was behind him I wouldn’t have taken the shot. I didn’t want to kill her. You have to believe me. It was an accident.”
“That’s why you stuck around, isn’t it?”
He nodded slowly. “I… I was going take my own life. I put the barrel of the shotgun in my mouth and had my finger on the trigger but I just couldn’t summon the courage to pull it. Crazy, eh? I’m a coward.”
“Maybe,” Sam said.
“Are you going tell the others?” Bobby asked.
“That depends on you, Bobby.”
He offered back a confused look as Sam headed back to the Jeep.
“Sam.”
He glanced over his shoulder as he slipped behind the wheel. “You can’t change the past, Bobby. What you do next is all that matters. If you’re not here when we get back, I’d understand.” Sam turned over the ignition and the engine roared to life. As he backed out he hit the brake and motioned to the doors. “Be sure to shut them.”
Bobby nodded. Sam kept his foot on the brake. “Oh and one last thing. If this is another one of your lies, you better not be here when I get back.”
They reversed out into the parking lot.
The doors closed and Sam turned the wheel and peeled away into the night.
“You in charge of that group?” Amanda asked.
“Hell no. I’m just the sucker that allowed them to come along for the ride.”
She nodded and gave him directions. As they bumped out of the parking lot and took a hard left onto Genesee Street, fires burned through the town creating a thin veil of smoke. They passed by several vehicle accidents, weaved around stalled vehicles and had to go up onto the sidewalk several times to get by traffic. There were only a few people on the street, and no cops.
“Over there,” she said pointing to a pizzeria on the left-hand side of the street. Sam pulled over and turned off the Jeep. He didn’t give Amanda a gun as he still wasn’t sure about her or whether this was all part of some elaborate ambush. He knew the chances of it were slim but he couldn’t put it past her or anyone. People were good at lying, Bobby was proof of that, and people would go to great lengths to survive. Sam turned on the flashlight on his AR-15 and scanned his field of vision for threats. There was no one out on the street, at least that he could see. Amanda came around and both of them began searching. She called out to David but got no response. Sam crossed the street to the donut shop, checked the alleyways but there was no one there. That’s when he heard her scream.
Sam sprinted back to the pizzeria expecting to encounter assailants but found Amanda on her knees over a slumped figure. She’d found him halfway down the alley behind a dumpster. David’s body had multiple stab wounds, and his face had been beaten to a pulp. Amanda had her arms wrapped around him and was crying into the crook of his neck. He cast a gaze up the alley, concerned that someone would hear her wailing.
“Amanda, he’s gone. There’s nothing you can do. We need to go.”
She continued to cry, ignoring him.
Sam crouched down and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Amanda.” She cast a tearful eye back at him. “Let’s go.”
“I can’t leave him here like this. It’s not right.”
Sam sighed hard. “Okay, out of the way.”
She moved and he stepped in and slumped David’s body over his shoulder then lifted him and walked back to the Jeep. They placed him in the back and Amanda went around the other side. Glad to be getting the hell out of there, Sam turned to see a group of men across the street heading their way with baseball bats, chains and knives.
“Holy shit. Get in!” he yelled
He fired up the engine and the men broke into a sprint. Sam slammed the gear into reverse and backed up, yanked the wheel and reversed down the alleyway. A flood of memories came back of being pursued by insurgents in Iraq. Back then they could call in air support but now he was on his own. He twisted in his seat to look out the back window. The engine roared as they gunned it down the alley.
“You ever fired a gun?” he asked reaching into his waistband and offering her the Glock.
“No. Never.”
She pulled back from it like it was poison. Shit! What was the deal with people not learning how to use a gun? He figured it should have been something taught to everyone as soon as they were old enough to be allowed to have a license. “Aim, and squeeze. Just don’t point it at me,” he said. Of course there was a lot more to it than that but that required time and they had all but run out of that.
“He’s gone where?” Mason barked at Lisa who’d gone to tell him. He’d seen the Jeep leave and made his way down to the gym along with Chase before she ran into them. Lisa thought it was complete madness but was more concerned that Sam had taken their only means of transportation.
“Anna, Anna!” Mason yelled out.
Bobby motioned to the washrooms. “She went inside there.”
“Why didn’t you stop him?” Mason asked Bobby.
“I tried to, believe me,” Bobby replied.
Mason squeezed his hand tight and cursed.
Outside under the cover of darkness, Jeremy got on the radio and gave them the go-ahead. Wayne and Sean dashed out from the tree line and jammed iron rods they’d gathered from a local hardware store between the handles on the doors around the school. Jeremy drove out the vehicle into the parking lot. Glass bottles filled with gasoline from the canisters in the trunk and siphoned from vehicles in the area clinked together in the rear. Moving quickly he hopped out and began gathering them. There were close to forty beer bottles full of flammable liquid. They’d spent the last hour in the north end of town gathering what they needed. On the way back they’d had a close encounter with a large group of armed individuals but managed to escape and lose them down the back streets.
This wouldn’t take long.
They were going to burn to death, die of smoke inhalation or run out into the hail of gunfire but one way or another it would end here. He didn’t care which one was responsible now, in his mind they all were. And nothing would give him greater satisfaction than seeing them all suffer.
“Wayne, how we doing?” he asked over a walkie-talkie.
&n
bsp; “A few more doors and we’re done.”
“Hurry it up.”
He’d already left bottles ready for Wayne and Sean at the front of the school.
Jeremy picked up the first bottle and lit the gasoline-soaked rag that was dangling out. He tossed it at the back doors of the gym. It exploded, gasoline spreading and flames creeping up the doors. Without stopping to admire it, he picked up another, lit and tossed it. He continued, lobbing several more before he took his rifle and shot out some of the windows above the doors. Bottles soared through the air. The clatter of glass smashing echoed and a look of glee spread across his face.
Wayne came over the radio.
“Sean is on the west side, I’ve got the south. This place is lit.”
Smoke rose above the school as the structure caught fire and quickly morphed into an inferno. Jeremy ducked back into the vehicle and brought it around to the east side and continued the onslaught. Watching tongues of fire blacken steel, and set wood afire excited him. In all his years of committing home burglaries, none of it came close to the satisfaction he was getting now.
“This is for you, little brother,” Jeremy muttered under his breath as he launched another Molotov cocktail through a shattered window.
TWENTY-TWO - ASHES TO ASHES
Black, toxic smoke began filling up the gymnasium. Everyone began coughing after Mason attempted to open the rear doors but couldn’t. He slammed his shoulder into the steel and it budged a little but wouldn’t open.
“Chase, give me a hand.”
Both he and Bobby tried but it was impossible.
The heat, smoke and flames licking up from under the door made it unbearable.
“I’ll try the other exit door,” Chase bellowed as he crossed the gymnasium.
Mason tore off his jacket, and shirt, then tied the shirt around his head and used it to cover his mouth. Lisa was screaming at the top of her voice, hysterical. She’d never been one for stress and was already taking enough tranquilizer tablets to drop a horse but this drove her into a total frenzy. She dashed out of the gym with little disregard for anyone else and disappeared into the corridor. Mason took off after her.