Gathering Home

by JEFF MOTES

  I take the radio over to the wire antenna still hanging from a tree limb. Will used this antenna to call Repose each evening, but he forgot to this evening, or rather yesterday evening. It’s already after midnight, I’m sure. I remove the stubby antenna and twist on the connector for the wire antenna.

  The last time I did this, I heard people from the Clarke County Sheriff’s office talking. I push the buttons on the front of the radio until one labeled CCSO comes up. I push the PTT button.

  “Hello, is anybody there?”

  Silence.

  I try again. “Hello, is anybody there?”

  A tired-sounding voice comes through the speaker. “Go for the sheriff’s office. What’s the nature of your call?”

  Yes! Not all of the government has failed.

  “This is Jimmy Wright. We need help.”

  “Mr. Wright, what kind of help do you need?”

  “Food. We need food.”

  “Mr. Wright, everybody is in need of food. Hold on… Please give me your location then state your name, age, and the name, age, and gender of each person in your household.”

  “My name is Jimmy Wright. I live at 12500 Walker Springs Road. I’m forty years old. My wife is Lynn Wright. She is thirty-nine years old. My daughter is Amy Wright. She’s fifteen years old, but she turns sixteen next week.”

  I wonder if I should include Will and Lizzy. They’ll be leaving in the morning, but if I give the sheriff’s office their information, maybe they will provide more supplies.

  “And there are two more people staying here. Will Carter, age seventeen and Lizzy Barnes, age fifteen.”

  The response is immediate and excited. “Did you say Will Carter?”

  “Yes. He’s been staying here along with Lizzy Barnes.”

  “Is that John Carter’s son and Jill Barnes’ daughter?”

  “They are. Why does that matter?”

  “Stand by.”

  There is silence for about ten minutes. A different voice comes over the radio.

  “This is Chief Deputy Clyde Smith. Did you say John Carter’s son is staying at your house?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Listen carefully, Mr. Wright. John Carter and his son are wanted in connection with several murders in the county. Lizzy Barnes is wanted for questioning regarding some actions of her mother as well. We’re going to send some men to pick them up. I need you to keep them there.”

  “I didn’t know Will was a wanted person, and Lizzy’s mom is supposed to be in Birmingham.”

  “We have a reward out for their detention. It may take us a couple of days to get there. Can you hold them both until we arrive? There is a significant reward if you do.”

  “What kind of reward?”

  “Food. We’ll provide you and your family with a month’s worth of MREs if you keep Will Carter and Lizzy Barnes detained until we get there.”

  Can this be true? I know Will has killed at least one man and by accounts from earlier probably more yesterday. But why Lizzy? Yes, she did shoot a guy out in the woods yesterday. How would the sheriff’s office even know that?

  “I had no idea he’s so dangerous. It will be a big risk to try to keep him here.”

  The guy sighs into the radio. “Mr. Wright, it is extremely important that you keep him at your house. Disarm him and lock him up if you have to. Just keep them there. I’ll see if I can’t bring an extra month of food in addition to the original reward. But understand, Mr. Wright, if they aren’t there when we arrive, we will arrest you and your entire family for aiding and abetting a fugitive. Is that clear?”

  “Yes sir, I understand. I’ll see what I can do and call you back later.”

  “A few more questions, Mr. Wright. Are there any armed vigilante groups in or around your community?”

  “Yes, there are. There’s one operating in the Walker Springs community. They have a roadblock set up about a mile north of my house and another set up on Allen Walker Road. And one closer to Jackson.”

  “I see. What kind of weapons did they have?”

  “I don’t know what all they have. I’ve seen some Russian-looking rifles. What are those rifles called? Ah…yes. AK47s. Also saw some AR15s.”

  “All right, Mr. Wright. I appreciate the information. With transportation being difficult during these times, it may be a day or two before we can get there. Be advised the deputies will be riding motorcycles. Some will be in uniform, some won’t. Don’t let it surprise you into doing something stupid and getting yourself shot. Sheriff’s office out.”

  “Out.”

  Chapter 40

  Jimmy

  Preparations

  Day 11

  Will and his dad are wanted for murder! I knew there was a reason why he was so easily persuaded to stay here to start with. He’s obviously hiding from the law. The story about his dad being up around Leeds is probably only a cover story. But why would they want Lizzy, unless she knows something about where Will’s dad is?

  This could be our food source, enough for a month or more. That would give me time to come up with another plan to gather food.

  Now I’ve got to figure out how I’m going to detain both Will and Lizzy. Lizzy won’t be too difficult. Will, on the other hand, might be a different story. Then I consider Cole’s black eye and swollen face when he came over here with his grandfather. I better not underestimate Lizzy, either.

  I switch the radio off, reinstall the stubby antenna, and clip the unit to my belt. Squatting down, I start letting the air out of the passenger front tire of the truck. It makes a high-pitched noise that sounds loud enough to wake the dead. After the tire is completely flat, I move to the other side and release the air from the rear tire. There is no way he’s going to be able to drive the truck now.

  I carefully open the tailgate and check the fuel can. It’s only about half full. I bet James lied about having traded the other fuel already. He’s probably got it stashed away somewhere at his house.

  The only way I’m going to be able to detain Will is to catch him off guard and unprepared. A plan has been developing in my mind. It’ll depend on a few things. The key is getting Will alone and unsuspecting. That shouldn’t be too hard to do. Then what? He’s smaller than I am, so maybe I can physically subdue him. No, that’s not going to work, not until he’s disarmed. Everything points to using a gun.

  The Hi-Point holds ten rounds in the magazine; that’s five more than my snub-nose revolver. I may have to use it. Another idea pops in my head. I return to the house and get my shotgun from right inside the front door, then walk to the garage.

  I’ve seen folks do it in movies before, and it makes sense to me. There will be less barrel for him to grab in case he resists. I unload the shotgun, and from above the work bench I get a hacksaw hanging from a nail. Laying the shotgun on the workbench, I start sawing the barrel off above the magazine tube cap. It’s probably illegal to do this, and I better not let one of the deputies see it when they arrive. If everything works as I plan, with Will and Lizzy chained up, I won’t need to carry the shotgun.

  Cutting the barrel is not as easy as it looks, and it makes a lot of noise. Several times the hacksaw blade slid along the barrel as I was trying to start the cut. The new scars on the remaining barrel are bright in the light of my flashlight. The edges of the inside of the barrel are now rough from the cut. I grab a screw driver, insert it into the end of the barrel, and rotate it, dulling the edges.

  From a bag on the workbench, I pull out a chain. I bought this a few months ago to replace the front porch swing chain. Only I never got around to doing it. This will work nicely. From a plastic coffee can, I get a couple of lockable door hasps, then from the drawer five locks. These are really heavy-duty locks that I brought from the mill after some higher-ups in corporate wanted the mill to change lock colors. All five locks use the same key. Russell would have a fit if he knew I’d taken these home. The poor idiot didn’t know when to leave well enough alone. I unlock each lock and place the k
eys in my pocket. I get one more thing before heading inside: a nice big Philips head screwdriver.

  Chapter 41

  Will

  Betrayal

  Day 11

  Sleep is fitful for me even though I’m completely exhausted. The events of the day keep playing through my mind. The images of Keisha and Amy, the sad and frightened look on Lizzy’s face, and the snapping of Cole’s neck. I knew things were going to get bad. Dad and I talked about it a lot, and he helped me prepare. But it’s no longer talk. It’s real now.

  Dear God, I believe I have done right this day. Lord, reveal to me if I haven’t. Thank You for the men who helped us today.

  If I had only not taken time to eat the can of beans, I could have helped Amy sooner and saved her misery. Why did I delay? The images flash again, and I shudder: the struggle on the floor, the breaking of bones, the dead man in the hall. None of that stirs conflict within me. I did right today. I hope I don’t have to do it again. Something inside is telling me I will.

  Poor Amy. As long as she stays in this house, she will be in danger. Mr. Wright is not a man for these times. I don’t understand his resistance to moving into Pastor Ezell’s community. Maybe it’s a racial thing; I don’t know. He’s not thinking clearly, and he’s putting his family in danger.

  I think we should take Amy and Mrs. Wright to Repose with us. I need to talk it over with Lizzy first. It’s breaking protocol with the group, but I’ll take responsibility for providing for them, and they won’t burden the community by being there. I’m sure Dad will understand once I explain everything to him.

  Oh, Dad! Where are you? I need you here now. God, please bring my father home!

  Mr. Wright is a different thing. I’m no longer going to ask our group about sponsoring him. He is a liar and a thief. I noticed the three red fuel cans in the garage the other night. They weren’t there before, and they weren’t there this morning, either. After thinking on it, I feel certain Mr. Wright stole my gas, then caused valuable delays by not telling me the gas was gone. He sat there acting like he knew nothing about what was going on while I tried to get the truck cranked. He put his own daughter’s life at risk. His antics and verbal assaults yesterday indicate he is unstable. We must leave here as soon as Lizzy and Amy are up and able to go.

  Of course, we won’t be going far if James Harris doesn’t bring some fuel. I only need a few gallons to go to Lizzy’s house then out to Repose. If he doesn’t bring gas, we’ll take the 4-wheeler, though I don’t think it has enough fuel to make it all the way to Repose.

  I was so exhausted yesterday evening I forgot to check in with Repose to let them know I wasn’t going to be there as planned. I’ll call them in the morning, and if James doesn’t bring gas, I’ll ask them to bring me some.

  Those Hiltons were evil and vile people. How many more like them are taking advantage of the lack of law enforcement and terrorizing their neighbors? Are people going to let stuff like this happen? Their mistake was coming here and finding someone who wouldn’t back down. Now they’re all dead.

  ****

  I awake with a start, and it dawns on me there were two 4-wheelers that came here yesterday. We only found one at the camp. One guy is still out there. I shouldn’t have slept. I jump out of bed and look out the window. It’s daybreak. I put my boots on and get my Glock and other EDC items then head for the door.

  Mr. Wright is probably asleep on the porch again. As I enter the great room, my eyes gravitate to the couch. Chains and locks are lying on the cushions. I stare in confusion, then a cold piece of steel touches the back of my head. I freeze. The other guy must have come back during the night. Another mistake!

  “All right, Will. Don’t move. This is a 12-gauge shotgun at the back of your head, and my finger is on the trigger.” It’s Mr. Wright.

  “What are you doing?” I ask.

  “Let’s not raise our voices. We don’t need to alarm the girls. They had a really bad day yesterday.”

  “What are you doing, Mr. Wright?”

  He removes my Glock from its holster.

  “I talked with the sheriff’s office last night. You and your father are wanted for murder. Deputies will be here shortly to arrest you. In the meantime, let’s make things easier for both of us. Pick up one of those chains from the couch and use the locks to fasten them good and tight to each of your wrists. Don’t do anything stupid or Lizzy will see your brains splattered all over the wall.”

  I think of trying to disarm him using a technique I learned a few weeks back. What will happen to Lizzy if I fail and the gun takes my head off? No, it’s too risky.

  “Mr. Wright, there has to be a mistake. I haven’t murdered anybody, and my dad isn’t even in Clarke County.”

  “Sure, Will. I wondered why you were so willing to stay out here. You’re running from the law. You killed one man right here in our front yard and more yesterday. I know you’re a killer.”

  “Mr. Wright, I killed those men protecting your daughter.”

  “You must have killed others before, but it doesn’t matter. I’m holding you until the deputies arrive. Now pick up a chain, and do as I say.”

  There are two chains on the couch. He’s probably going to make me chain my feet as well. I pick up the shorter of the two chains for my wrist, and he prods the back of my head with the barrel. I take one end of the chain and wrap it around my left wrist and put the open lock through two links.

  He prods the back of my head again. “Take up another link.”

  I remove the lock and tighten the chain a link.

  “Now close the lock.”

  I snap it locked.

  “Go into the kitchen and run the chain through the handles on the refrigerator and lock it around your other wrist.”

  I walk into the kitchen, trying to think of a way to extricate myself from this situation. I glance at my Glock; it’s now in his waistband. Everything I can think of is just too risky. I run the chain through both handles of the side-by-side doors then lock the chain around my wrist.

  He steps back.

  “Mr. Wright, why are you doing this? It doesn’t make any sense.”

  “Oh, it makes a lot of sense, Will. There is a reward out for you, and I’m going to collect it.”

  I’m stunned, hardly believing what is happening. Could it be true there is a warrant for my arrest? I did shoot that guy the other day before he drew his weapon. Could that be what this is about? I had to do it or the same thing that happened to Keisha would have happened to Lizzy.

  Dear God, what do I do?

  Chapter 42

  Lizzy

  Why Are You Doing This?

  Day 11

  The sounds of a loud argument drift up into Amy’s room. Mrs. Lynn and Mr. Wright are arguing again. I hope he doesn’t hit her like he did yesterday. We need to take her away from here, too. I can hardly believe Mr. Wright has become the person he has. He was always so nice and calm. I had never heard him raise his voice before the EMP. Maybe these trying times are drawing the worst out of even good people.

  Amy is still asleep. I get up and go to the bathroom and wash my face. I change out of my nightclothes and brush my teeth. I study myself in the mirror. I’ve lost weight. I’m glad we’re leaving here today, and we must take Amy with us. I’m sure I can convince Will that it’s the right thing to do.

  “What’s all the loud noises?” Amy asks, stirring.

  “I’m not sure.” I pause briefly at the door. “I’m going downstairs. I’ll be back shortly.”

  The argument between Mr. and Mrs. Wright is getting louder.

  “Jimmy, you can’t do this!” Mrs. Lynn screams.

  “Yes I can, and yes I am. It’s for the good of our family. For you and for Amy! You’ll thank me later.”

  I’m at the bottom of the stairs when Mr. Wright looks around the corner, anger and rage in his eyes. I’ve never seen him look like this before. I recoil in fear when he points his shotgun directly at my chest.

  M
rs. Lynn screams and grabs his arm. “Jimmy, stop!”

  Then Will’s voice. “Mr. Wright, if you hurt her, I will kill you!”

  “Shut up!” Mr. Wright yells. His arm flies back and knocks Mrs. Lynn to the ground. She lays there crying.

  I’m shaking, not understanding what is happening and why.

  “Lizzy, come on down the stairs slowly, and you won’t get hurt.”

  I stand still, stunned and in disbelief.

  “Now!”

  I come down the stairs, and he stops me near the couch. “Pick the chain up from the couch and lock it around both ankles.”

  I pick the chain up and wrap one end around my ankle, then use the lock to tie the chain back to itself. I do the same thing to my other ankle.

  “Why? Why are you doing this, Mr. Wright? I don’t understand.”

  “You will soon enough when deputies show up to arrest you and Will for murder. Go into the kitchen. Stay on the opposite side of the island away from Will.”

  “Dad! What are you doing?” Amy screams, running down the stairs.

  “They’re both wanted for murder by the sheriff’s office. I’m only holding them until they get here.”

  Will is chained to the refrigerator. Mr. Wright prods me around the island opposite of Will.

  “All right, Will,” Mr. Wright says, tossing him a key. “Unlock one wrist, remove the chain from the refrigerator, then lock the chain around your wrist. Don’t do anything stupid or your little girlfriend might end up in multiple places at the same time.”

  Will has a fierce expression, yet he complies with Mr. Wright’s instructions. Mrs. Lynn is holding Amy near the kitchen door. They are both crying.

  “Dad, please! Please don’t do this.”