by Bobby Cole
“Listen to me. I’ll be fine. You have to help each other. Promise me you will,” he said, looking Katy in the eyes. “We don’t have time to argue. Promise?”
“But, Dad!” she whined.
“Katy, honey, we don’t have time,” Jake pleaded. “Please take care of her,” he said calmly to Elizabeth.
They both started crying. Jake told them to stop. Jake hugged Katy for as long as he dared and afterward looked up at Elizabeth. She looked worn out. He prayed that she had another mile in her. Jake looked down at Katy’s feet, covered only by a pair of cotton camo gloves.
He stepped out of his boots, saying, “Wear these, Katy. It’s better than nothin’.”
She slipped them on. She wore them around the house when she had to feed the animals.
“I’ll catch up. OK? Elizabeth, I need to keep the gun. Now y’all go.”
Jake watched them walking away, realizing that might be the last time he saw Katy. It hurt down to the bone. He dreaded what he was about to do.
He hurriedly took out his pocketknife, opened it, and locked the blade. He tried to slip the handle into the gun barrel but it was slightly too big. He jabbed the blade into the log lying at his feet. Then he slid the end of the barrel onto the handle and with all his weight, forced the barrel a few inches over the knife handle. He now had a new weapon and a chance to attack the remaining thugs.
Jake had purposely crossed the creek beside a large oak. Squatting down on the bank, he rubbed mud all over his arms, chest, neck, and more on his face. Then he leaned against the back side of the huge old tree. When the thugs were crossing the deepest part, he would charge with his Remington model 870 bayonet.
He could hear them closing in. Each step sent Jake’s heart into another gear. The intensity was overwhelming. Sweat was pouring off him. Vapor from his breath was pluming out into the night. Jake concentrated on reducing his breathing so as not to compromise his location.
“There they go…they’re gonna cross the creek,” he heard one say and another one grunted in agreement. They approached cautiously, but Jake could hear every step. Visions of his beautiful daughter and the wife whom he so often disappointed, and even Elizabeth, whose life depended on him, were flying through his mind. His decision to go hunting had forever changed the lives of countless people and set in motion an unfathomable sequence of events.
Jake took a deep breath and tightened his grip on his bayonet. He waited to hear the sound of rednecks sloshing in the creek. He was determined to kill both of them.
Katy and Elizabeth were moving slowly through the swamp. The mud kept pulling off Katy’s boots. Elizabeth was in excruciating pain. They held hands, and Katy tried her best to help support Elizabeth. Both girls were sobbing.
Elizabeth understood the danger that Jake faced and the sacrifice he was making. She knew why he was doing it. Elizabeth also knew that he was counting on her to get Katy to safety. A vision of Tanner’s fight flashed through her mind and then an image of her attacker—it was so vivid she could smell him. Walk. Just keep walking, she told herself.
Both girls heard a big truck cross the Noxubee River Bridge, the sound echoing across the swamp. They could almost feel the vibrations. They looked at each other and smiled knowingly. Elizabeth noted that it was still pretty far away because she couldn’t see any lights, but at least she knew they were headed in the right direction.
After sloshing through the mud for a hundred yards or so, Elizabeth saw a log that they would have to cross or go around. Pointing at it, she asked Katy, “You wanna sit a minute?”
“Yes,” Katy whispered.
The moment they sat down for a much-needed rest, a gray fox jumped from a hole in the ground at their feet, ran between them, then headed deep into the swamp.
They both yelled at the top of their lungs. Elizabeth’s long scream matched Katy’s. As quickly as it happened, it was over.
Elizabeth realized that they had betrayed their location. She instantly grabbed Katy by the hand and they took off running for the highway. Elizabeth fell down. Katy helped her get up. They were both in a panic.
Jake could tell that his pursuers were hesitating at the edge of the creek. Come on. Just a few more feet, he thought. He gritted his teeth, listening intently, waiting for the sounds of them wading into the water.
Katy and Elizabeth’s scream of terror pierced the silence. He tensed and turned to look in their direction. The dense swamp was coal-black. He couldn’t see anything. Jake heard one of them mumble something, then walk into the water. Jake had them where he wanted them, but Katy was in danger. Katy! What the hell’s goin’ on? What are they screamin’ at? Jake’s mind raced immediately to a vision of Katy and Elizabeth in the hands of those maniacs. But these monsters were less than twenty feet away from him—right now. He was shaking so hard he knew the thugs could hear—even over the sloshing sounds they made. The instant before Jake attacked, a graphic image of Katy in the hands of those fiends seared his brain. Jake bolted toward the girls, never looking back. He ran with all his might.
“Shit! Who is that! Hey, come back here!” Jake heard someone yell in an incredulous voice. As he was running, Jake could hear chaotic shouting and the thrashing of water.
“Elizabeth! Elizabeth!” a man screamed as Jake plowed through vines and limbs in the direction of the girls, “Elizabeth! It’s Steve Tillman!”
“Mr. Tillman? Is that you?” Elizabeth yelled in response.
“Yes! Yes! We’re coming, Elizabeth!”
Jake stopped. He couldn’t hear clearly over the ringing in his ears, caused by the pounding of his heart. He tried to make sense of it. Elizabeth seemed to recognize one of voices coming from behind him. He cupped his hands and hollered, “Elizabeth, do you know him?’”
“Yes! It’s my boyfriend’s dad!” she yelled with excitement.
After a moment, Jake heard the girls crashing toward him through the undergrowth.
“Is Katy all right?”
“Yes sir!” Elizabeth shouted back. Jake felt a wave of relief rush over him.
“Elizabeth, we’re coming…stay where you are!” Tillman yelled.
Jake was stunned and exhausted. Everybody was yelling at once.
R.C. drew down on Jake’s chest when he saw him. Jake was totally covered in mud, barefoot, and carrying a shotgun with a knife jutting out of the end of the barrel—all very Apocalypse Now. “Deputy sheriff! Deputy sheriff! Drop it! Drop the gun! Drop it, NOW!” R.C. screamed. “Put your hands in the air!”
Jake let go of the shotgun and raised his hands. He then dropped to his knees, locking his fingers across the top of his head. He could stand no longer although the weight of the world had just been lifted from his shoulders.
“Man, I’m glad to see you,” Jake said with relief.
R.C. didn’t respond. Her kept his pistol trained on Jake as he slowly approached the shotgun. He picked it up and leaned it against a tree out of Jake’s reach.
Steve Tillman was out of sight, heading toward Elizabeth. Jake could hear Katy running back toward him and yelling, “Dad! Dad!”
When R.C. saw the little girl run to the muddy man and hug him, he dropped his pistol to his side. R.C. listened to Steve Tillman talking excitedly to Elizabeth Beasley.
“Is Elizabeth OK?” R.C. yelled.
“Yes!”
“Who are you?” R.C. turned to Jake.
“I’m Jake Crosby. I’m…I’m in a huntin’ club back that direction, somewhere. Bogue Chitto. This is my daughter, Katy. You won’t believe what we’ve been through tonight.”
R.C. began connecting the dots. He holstered his weapon, then walked closer.
“And who are you?” Katy asked bluntly before R.C. could ask another question.
R.C. smiled. “R.C. Smithson, young lady. I’m a deputy sheriff.”
“R.C.? Well, what took you so long to get here?” Katy exclaimed with a very serious look, catching R.C. off guard.
“I thought y’all were part of that
gang of rednecks tryin’ to kill us,” Jake explained to the deputy, as Elizabeth, with Tillman’s help, walked up.
“You scared the shit outta me when you took off runnin’…Oh…uh…excuse me, Miss Katy,” R.C. said.
“That’s OK. My dad’s said that a bunch tonight,” Katy said brightly.
“I bet he did.” R.C. smiled at Jake.
“Mr. Tillman, these are the people I was tellin’ you about—they saved my life,” Elizabeth explained as they approached Jake, Katy, and the deputy. She was giddy with relief, thinking she was out of danger.
Steve Tillman shook Jake’s hand. “Pleased to meet you. I’m Steve Tillman. I don’t know what all y’all have been through tonight, but thank you so much for taking care of her.”
“Jake Crosby. This is my daughter, Katy,” Jake said, beginning to get choked up.
“Mr. Tillman said Tanner’s in the hospital and is stable…which means he’s going to be all right!” Elizabeth said joyously.
“That’s great news,” Jake responded, slowly looking at everyone. He couldn’t believe what he had done tonight. “I almost killed one of y’all,” he said reflectively to R.C. and Steve Tillman.
“Yeah, that was close,” R.C. replied stoically, eyeing the modified shotgun. “We saw some of your handiwork back there.” R.C. then looked at Jake in the flashlight beam.
Jake replied simply, “He deserved it,” with no hint of contrition. “And there’s still one more out here somewhere. A great big fat guy.”
“I think he’s left the area. I’m dying to know all the details, but we really need to get y’all outta here,” R.C. said, noticing Elizabeth’s swollen ankle. Then, looking at Jake, he continued. “And get y’all cleaned up. The sheriff will have tons of questions.”
There was so much to say, but Jake knew the deputy was right. They needed to get to safety. Jake couldn’t relax fully until they were out of these woods.
“My truck’s miles back that way,” Jake said, pointing northwest.
“Our Jeep’s a good two miles that way, so I think we walk out to the highway and hitch a ride to town,” R.C. said to the group. He noticed Steve Tillman giving Elizabeth his jacket. He looked at Jake slowly getting up, covered in mud and sweat, then with a laugh said to Jake, “I’d give you mine, but I’m probably wetter than you right now. When you first took off running, you scared me so bad, I fell in the creek face-first!”
“That’s OK. Why don’t you carry the shotgun. I’ll carry Katy Bug here—been doing it all night anyway,” he said affectionately.
Jake watched Tillman pick up Elizabeth. He turned to pick up Katy. They followed R.C.’s big flashlight beam toward the highway.
“My mom’s gonna kill my dad when we get home!” Katy exclaimed.
Everyone laughed. Even Jake mustered an exhausted smile.
“Don’t you have a radio?” Jake asked R.C.
“It’s a long story; the Jeep crushed it,” R.C. said sheepishly. “It’s gonna be a tough one to explain.”
Before Jake knew it, they were crawling up the steep side of the highway. When Jake got up on the road, R.C. was already looking back and forth to see if any vehicles were coming. They all huddled in the middle of the road. Steve Tillman returned the pistol to R.C. when no one was looking.
After a few minutes they could see headlights approaching. R.C. started flashing his light and waving his arms. The vehicle came to a stop a hundred yards away. Its lights switched to high beam. After ten seconds, the vehicle slowly backed up, turned around, and drove off at a high rate of speed.
“That was weird. Whoever’s driving that SUV acted scared of us,” R.C. stated.
“Well, yeah, take a closer look,” Tillman said, laughing.
“Right, I might pick them up,” R.C. said, pointing at the girls, “but I definitely wouldn’t pick up old Jake there…not on a bet.”
Everyone laughed.
“I wouldn’t pick me up either,” Jake added, wiping some mud off his forehead.
“There are plenty folks in this part of the world that would think you were some kinda swamp haint,” R.C. added, grinning.
Eventually, another vehicle approached. An eighteen-wheeler. The giant white truck slowed down as R.C. stood in the center of the road waving his flashlight and arms, directing him to stop. The truck driver was obviously nervous. He stared in disbelief at the group standing in his headlights’ beam. Jake smiled and shook his head when he saw it was a Walmart truck. They’re everywhere, he thought.
Shining his light on his uniform, R.C. said, “Sir, I’m Deputy Sheriff Smithson. This is an emergency. We need a ride to Livingston.”
The truck driver looked at everyone, then back at R.C.’s badge, and said, “Sure, Officer…y’all jump in.”
“Thank you, sir. Just drop us off at the hospital. I’ll show you where it is,” R.C. said.
“Are you folks OK?” the truck driver asked, watching the mixed group crawl up into his truck. “Just crawl in the back, sweetheart,” he said to Katy.
“It’s been a long night,” Jake answered back. “Can we all get in here?” he asked as he climbed up.
“Sure—cram in,” R.C. replied as he shook hands with the truck driver. “We really appreciate the lift.”
“No problem…I was just a little shocked. I thought y’all were hijackers.”
Jake, Katy, and R.C. climbed into the sleeper. Tillman and Elizabeth shared the front seat. Katy was excited to be in a big truck.
“I’m definitely adding Walmart stock to my Buy List,” Jake said aloud to no one in particular.
The driver was old school. He couldn’t have been nicer. He never asked a question, he simply kept his mouth shut. He spent only brief moments looking inquisitively at his passengers.
“I buy all my stuff at Walmart,” R.C. added, trying to make conversation. “Whatcha hauling?”
“Televisions,” the driver answered politely.
“Hey, do you have a cell phone?” R.C. asked.
“Yeah, sure,” he said, handing it to R.C. It was red, white, and blue.
“No service,” R.C. reported.
“Tell me about it. This area needs another tower real bad,” Jake replied.
“When we get closer to Livingston, we’ll have service,” R.C. explained. Then, looking at Jake, he said, “I can’t wait to hear your story.”
“Shit! Shit! Shit!” Moon Pie screamed, pounding on the steering wheel. He had just realized that the shadowy figure in the middle of the highway waving a flashlight wasn’t Reese—it was a cop. This is bad. Really bad.
“I gotta get the hell outta here!” he said aloud. Slamming the Tahoe into reverse, he whipped around and burned rubber heading north. His mind raced as he tried unsuccessfully to reach Reese. Moon Pie hated to breach the buddy code and leave Reese in limbo, but he sensed this place was about to be crawling with cops, and they were going to be looking for the whole crew. It’s just dumb luck that I got away from Deputy Dawg back in Livingston. They got my name, my tag number, and they’re probably gonna waitin’ for my stupid ass when I pull up to my crib. Dammit!
Trying to return a favor for a buddy, Moon Pie had gotten himself into a neck-deep pile of trouble. His gut was telling him to run.
Ethan “Moon Pie” Daniels sped away from his planned rendezvous with Reese, thinking he would head straight to Memphis, and then on up to Missouri to a remote fishing camp deep in the Ozarks. He could lie low. Nobody would be suspicious. He’d be just another eccentric fly-fisherman. He had about four grand in cash on him and enough weed to raise maybe another twenty. The hillbillies would buy it all, including the seeds. The Ozarks were the perfect hideout. He could catch some trout and hang until he knew exactly what was going down. I can be there in six hours. Maybe seven. And my old lady won’t even miss me, as long as she’s got Internet access. Or, I’ll….
By the time Moon Pie reached Macon, Mississippi, his mind was made up.
Ollie and Joe Wilson were headed out the front do
or, when Martha screamed and jumped up and down like she’d just won the lottery.
“What the hell?” Ollie said with his hand on the front door.
“R.C. has them all. Elizabeth and the guy from West Point and his daughter! He’s got ‘em all!” she said excitedly.
“Where are they?” he asked after he let out a deep sigh of relief.
“They’re on their way to the hospital. They’ll be there in a few minutes.”
“Let’s go!” Ollie said to everyone. The entire Sumter County sheriff’s staff began racing for the door. Nobody thought to tell Marlow. He was in the bathroom tucking in his shirttail, which had pulled out while he was setting up the official podium.
“Damn it, R.C. Answer me!” Ollie finally said after three unsuccessful attempts to contact the deputy via radio. There were several questions he needed answered immediately.
When Ollie turned the corner to the ER entrance, he did not see R.C.’s cruiser in the parking lot. He could see TV camera crews sitting on the ground resting. They obviously did not know what was about to happen, but they would react quickly. Parking on the side of the building, Ollie glanced back down the road. Several cars were approaching at high rates of speed. R.C.’s cruiser was not one of them. He folded his arms and waited.
Martha O’Brien screeched her car to a stop and sprinted by him without a glance, headed inside to spread the news to Mrs. Tillman and Mrs. Beasley. Ollie smiled. He noticed the camera crews were staring at him. One female reporter was approaching to ask a question. While the reporter was walking toward him, Ollie noticed Zach Beasley drive up and scurry into the hospital.
“What’s going on, deputy? Where’s Sheriff Marlow?” asked the reporter insolently.
The question burned Ollie. He counted to five before responding sternly, “I am Sumter County Sheriff Ollie Landrum. Sheriff Marlow is either at my office or on his way here.”
“Sorry, Sheriff. What’s going on?” asked the vacuous, perfectly groomed blond reporter.
“You’ll know in a few minutes,” he said, looking up the road for blue lights. He wanted to preserve the illusion that he knew what was going on. This is classic R.C.…keep everybody in the dark, Ollie thought. The reporter started frantically waving at her cameraman to get ready.