by Mark Goodwin
Courtney opened a bottle of water that she’d brought for the trip. She took a sip and passed it to Everett. “Don’t you think the timing of the gold and silver purchases was triggered by China’s big precious metals buying spree?”
Everett took a sip of the water and passed it back. “I’m sure it was, but Jones predicted the price spike and the move from the crypto-accounts to metals. He said that would be the other sign. He’s pegged everything so far. I think we’re on the eve of the apocalypse.”
Courtney lowered her eyebrows. “Literally? You think it could be tomorrow?”
Everett exhaled heavily. “I don’t know if it’ll be tomorrow, next week or next month, but in the grand scheme of things, I literally believe it could happen at any moment.”
Courtney looked out the window at the passing scenery. “It’s so peaceful out here. This seems so far away from the collapse of society.”
Everett smiled. “That’s why Jones bought a cabin out here. I hope we can find the combination to that safe today.”
“Why didn’t you look last week?”
Everett twisted his mouth to one side. “Ken and Lisa were there.”
“You invited them to bug out with us for the apocalypse. I’ve known Lisa forever. She’s good people. Don’t you trust Ken?”
“I do. It’s just that I don’t know what’s in the safe, and I’d like to find out before I advertise it and everything else Jones stashed up in the loft.”
Courtney nodded slowly. “That makes sense. I guess you didn’t think to ask Uncle John for the combination before he passed.”
Everett kept his eyes on the road. “No. I only saw the safe once. Every time I visited him after he took a turn for the worse, I felt so bad for him. The thought never crossed my mind.”
“You could call a locksmith if you have to.”
“I don’t want any unnecessary individuals knowing about the cabin. I’d rather cut it open.”
“That sounds like a real task. Also, we don’t know what’s in there; it could be dangerous. What if you cut into a loaded gun or ammunition?”
“Hopefully, it won’t come to that. I think I might know where the combination is.
“By the way, I forgot to ask you what you wanted for lunch. I was thinking of trying out some of those MREs that Uncle John has in the loft.”
Courtney patted Everett’s leg. “We can save those for the apocalypse. I packed us a picnic.”
“You did?”
“Yes, because I don’t want to eat MREs. Don’t get used to it, though. You’re still on probation for that comment about wanting someone to cook for you.”
“I can’t believe you’re still holding that against me. It was just a joke. Besides, I didn’t say I was looking for someone to cook for me.”
“Nevertheless, you’re still on probation.”
“So, what did you cook for me?”
Courtney slapped his arm. “You’re eating MREs!”
An hour later, they arrived at the cabin. Everett retrieved the ladder and took his and Courtney’s spare clothes up to the loft.
Courtney followed him up the ladder. “Wow! You were right. He did stock this place up.”
“I’m going to see if I can find that combination. I’ll be right back.” Everett shimmied down the ladder and went to the cupboard where Jones kept the deed and checkbook. Everett pulled out the shelf attached to the portion of false wall and retrieved the old metal coffee can. He popped the lid and dumped the contents onto the small kitchen table. “What’s this?” Everett opened a folded piece of paper. “Fall sixty-three.”
He hurried back up the ladder. “I think I found a clue to the safe.”
Courtney took the piece of paper as Everett handed it to her. “Fall sixty-three? What’s this mean?”
“I think it might be the combination. The first day of fall is September twenty-second. I think that might be the combination: nine, twenty-two, sixty-three.” Everett spun the dial and tried the numerical combination. “No dice.”
Courtney watched in anticipation. “Try twenty-three. Sometimes the first day of fall is the twenty-third.”
Everett gave the new integer a shot. “Nothing.”
Courtney scratched her head. “When does fall start in the southern hemisphere?”
Everett shrugged. “It must be on the first day of spring for the northern hemisphere. That’s the equinox, right?”
“Yes, March twentieth. Try that.”
“Three, twenty, sixty-three.” Everett tried to pull the handle again, but the safe still wouldn’t open.
Courtney patted him on the back. “We’ll figure it out. What historic event occurred in the fall of 1963?”
“November, 1963! JFK!”
“Great! What day?”
Everett strained to remember. “I don’t know. Do you have Internet on your burner phone?”
“I do, but I doubt we’ll get a signal up here.”
“Let’s drive back down to town. I don’t want to connect from here anyway.”
The two hurried back to the car and drove fifteen minutes back into Woodstock.
Courtney placed the battery in the phone as soon as they hit town. “Okay, I have a signal.” She quickly pecked away at the phone. “November twenty-second!”
Everett made a quick turn and drove back to the cabin. He rushed back up the ladder and tried the combination. “Eleven, twenty-two, sixty-three!”
Courtney stood nearby. “That’s it?”
Everett pulled the handle. “No.”
“Don’t give up! What’s the numerical equivalent to JFK?”
Everett counted off the letters of the alphabet in his head. “Ten, six, eleven.” He tried the numbers on the dial. Once again, the safe wouldn’t open. His head slumped.
Courtney put her hand on his back and stroked it gently. “It’s okay. We’ll figure it out. Let’s go shoot some soda cans, clear our heads, and try again later.”
Everett nodded and led the way down the ladder.
They retrieved the shotgun and the rifle from the trunk and found a safe area out in the woods behind the cabin.
Everett pointed at a steep bank. “That looks like a good place. The bullets will lodge into that cliff.”
Courtney took several sticks and pushed them into the dirt embankment. Next, she hung a selection of soda cans from the sticks to form makeshift targets. She walked back to Everett. “The line is hot. Fire at will.”
Everett raised his shotgun and pulled the trigger. POW! “Whoa! That’s loud!”
Courtney pointed to the shredded soda can. “I think you got it. Maybe we should shoot the rifle first and the shotgun last. Otherwise, we won’t have any targets left.”
She leveled her rifle at the next can. POP, POP, POP! In quick succession, she shot the remaining three cans, dislodging them from the sticks which held them in place.
Everett leaned his shotgun against a tree and clapped briefly. “Nice shooting.”
Courtney passed the rifle to Everett. “Try it out.”
Everett took aim. POP. The round kicked dirt off the ground, several inches from where the can lay. He fired again. Still, he missed the can. “The shotgun is easier.”
Courtney helped him find a better stance. “Squeeze the trigger slowly. When you pull the trigger, you’re jerking the gun off target.”
Everett tried again. POP. The can jumped off the ground. “I did it!”
“Good job.” Courtney kissed him on the cheek.
They continued firing the rifle for a while, then switched to pistols. Courtney was the more experienced shooter in this arena as well.
Thirty minutes later, there was nothing left that remotely resembled a soda can, so they called it quits.
“Are you hungry?” Courtney asked.
“Not for MREs.”
“Well, you did a good job on the firing range, so I’ll share my picnic with you.”
Everett kissed her forehead. “Thanks.”
Courtney op
ened Everett’s trunk, took out a basket, and spread a blanket out beneath a large tree in the front yard of the cabin. “I made a turkey, Swiss, and avocado sub and an Italian sub. Take your pick.”
“Can we share both?”
“Sure.” She handed Everett a paper plate and unwrapped the sandwiches, then passed him a bag of chips.
“This is really nice.” Everett bit into his sandwich.
“It’s so peaceful up here. I really appreciate you inviting me up here if stuff gets bad. I can’t imagine living in the city after it hits the fan. It’s barely survivable as it is.”
Everett took a few chips in his hand. “I’m happy to have your company. I know all this sounds a little crazy. Thanks for believing me.”
Courtney dug through the basket and took out some sliced pineapple in a plastic container. “I’ll admit, the conspiracy side of what Uncle John told you was a bit hard to swallow, but everything is playing out exactly as he said.”
Everett finished chewing and swallowed. “The way he told the story, it was the spookiest thing you’d ever heard. All of the stuff about the Illuminati and the Luciferians. . .”
Everett stopped in the middle of his sentence.
“What is it? Are you okay?”
“The fall of man! I just remembered. Jones told me that the Luciferians considered the fall of man written of in the Bible to be the ascent of man. It’s a verse in Genesis.”
“I’m not following you. What are you talking about?”
Everett jumped up. “The combination. Fall sixty-three. It’s a number. The Skull and Bones have a verse number from the Book of Genesis concerning the fall of man on their seal! Oh, what is it?”
Courtney shrugged.
“Three, two, two!” Everett raced into the cabin and up the ladder with Courtney close behind.
He spun the dial to clear the lock. “Three, twenty-two, sixty-seven.”
He pulled the handle. “Not it!”
Everett sat next to the safe in defeat. Discouragement covered his face.
Courtney gave the dial a spin. “Wait. Maybe it’s thirty-two, two, sixty-seven.” She pulled the handle, and the door swung open.
CHAPTER 3
The supposed quietude of a good man allures the ruffian; while on the other hand, arms, like laws, discourage and keep the invader and the plunderer in awe, and preserve order in the world as well as property.
Thomas Paine
Noah walked into Tim’s Guns that Saturday morning. “Hey, Tim.”
“All sales are final. We don’t take returns from disgruntled spouses,” Tim joked.
“I bet you get a lot of that.”
“It’s not usually the husbands, unless they were sent here with an ultimatum.”
“I’m actually looking to make a purchase.”
Tim’s eyes lit up. “What can I help you find?”
“AK-74.”
“I’ve got just the thing.” Tim went in the back and returned holding an all-black rifle with an aluminum four-rail handguard and synthetic folding stock.
Noah took it from him. “Wow, this is nice! Can I put sights, a flashlight, and a forward grip on these rails?”
“Whatever you like. I’ve got all that stuff. Just tell me how much you want to spend.”
“How many magazines does this come with?”
“Two, but I’ve got plenty of those, too.”
“How much?”
“Twelve hundred.”
Noah winced. “I was trying to stay under one thousand.”
Tim looked at the rifle. “I’ll throw in two extra mags, an entry-level reflex site, and a light.”
“I can’t turn that down. What’s next?”
Tim handed Noah the background check form. “Fill this out, and I’ll get the light and reflex site on there for you.”
“Thanks.” Noah entered the appropriate information on the form.
Tim returned with the rifle and left it on the counter for Noah to inspect while he called in the check.
Noah picked out three hundred rounds of inexpensive ammo and another hundred rounds of hollow point.
Tim walked back to the counter where Noah was waiting patiently. “Sorry, the system turned you down. They probably have you flagged because of your court case. If you were just acquitted yesterday, it might not get entered till next week. I’ll keep this off the floor for you.”
Noah was disappointed. “Any idea how long it will take?”
Tim shook his head. “Sorry.”
“I’m going to give Jim a call. I’ll be right back.” Noah walked outside to dial Jim’s number.
“Jim, hey, it’s Noah. Listen, I’m at Tim’s Guns trying to buy a rifle, but I was refused by the background check.”
Jim’s voice came back over the phone. “You’re blocked because of your case. It could be several months before they clear you. It’s government policy to drag their feet on these types of things. Basically, the government uses it as a legal loophole to infringe on your Second Amendment rights.
“You won’t be able to get a concealed carry license until they clear you either. Unless. . .”
“Unless what?”
“Unless I deputize you.”
“You can do that?”
“Sure. You’ve been cleared of all charges and have no criminal record. You can even have a few shifts if you like.”
Noah was stunned. “That’s fantastic. Thanks!”
“While I have you on the phone, I have the rifle and the shotgun from the evidence room that Donaldson took when they raided your house. Cassie’s Kahr was never logged in. My guess is that Donaldson or Puckett added it to their personal collection. I checked the value, and it would cost about four-fifty to replace. We’ll cut you a check or let you pick four hundred-fifty dollars’ worth of guns out of the county’s seized weapons inventory.”
Noah asked, “You wouldn’t happen to have an AK-74 in there, would you?”
“I’ve got an AK-47.”
“What’s it look like?”
“Light-colored wooden stock and handguard. Looks like it’s in fair condition. There are a couple of okay guns in there, but it’s mostly junk. I’d give you a very favorable valuation on them though. Especially considering the trouble you were put through and the fact that all these weapons will be destroyed otherwise.”
“Okay, I’ll be by to take a look in a bit.”
Noah walked back into the gun shop. “Tim, what if I brought in an old AK-47 with a wooden stock? Would you be able to make it look like that one?”
Tim nodded. “It’d be about two-fifty for the black composite furniture, site, light, and forward grip. A little more if you want me to strip and clean it. I can throw on a fresh coat of paint and make it look brand new. But if you want this one, why don’t you have Cassie come buy it?”
Noah smiled. “It’s supposed to be her Christmas present.”
“Oh, I gotcha.”
“Do you close early on Saturdays?”
“Nope, I’ll be here till five.”
“Great, I should be back well before five.” Noah gave a quick wave and headed out the door.
Tim’s Guns wasn’t far from the sheriff’s office, so Noah was there in a matter of minutes. He called Jim to let him know he was in the parking lot, and Jim met him at the door.
“Hey, Sheriff. Thanks for your help.” Noah looked around to see if he recognized anyone from when he was there before under much less favorable circumstances.
Jim shook his hand. “I told you that it’s just Jim to you.”
“I know, but this is your place of work, and it’s out of respect for the position.”
Jim smiled. “Okay, I can accept that. I just don’t want my friends treating me any different. I’m still the same guy I was before. Come on back; I’ll show you what we’ve got.”
Noah followed Jim back to a room with a steel-grate cage. Jim took out his keys, unlocked the door, and they walked in. The shelves were filled with carefully labeled
paper bags, many of which contained drugs that had been seized in arrests.
Jim pointed at the first row of shelves. “All of this is evidence for open cases. This shelf up here is for stolen property, and this whole rack is seized weapons that aren’t associated with any open cases. We’re allowed to sell them, but they usually get destroyed. Here’s the AK I told you about.”
“Looks a little rough, but Tim said he’d clean it up for me. I need something to replace Cassie’s Kahr. What’s this?”
“Springfield XD, nine millimeter.” Jim handed the pistol to Noah.
“Looks nice, but it’s thicker that the Kahr.”
“It’s a double-stacked magazine. Springfield makes an XDS, which has a single-stacked mag like her old Kahr. This double-stacked model holds thirteen rounds, and you can get a nineteen round extended magazine for it.” Jim handed Noah another, smaller pistol. “Here’s a Beretta Cheetah. It’s about the same size as her Kahr.”
“Okay. Is this a nine millimeter?”
“It’s a .380, which is the same diameter as a nine, but with a slightly shorter round. You just have to be careful when you’re buying mags for this. They made different models for the .380 Cheetah, and the mags aren’t interchangeable. Some are even double-stacked. Beretta doesn’t sell these in America anymore. It might have some collectible value.”
“I think this will work. How much does this count toward my allowance?”
Jim looked at the ceiling. “We’ll say a hundred for the AK, a hundred for the Beretta, and a hundred for the XD. It’d be a nice concealed carry weapon for you. That leaves you with one-fifty. I’ll give you the department’s price on ammo for the XD, or I’ll cut you a check for the remainder.”
Noah continued to look at the guns on the shelf. “Could I buy another gun?”
Jim laughed. “Sure, but remember, I’ve still got your twenty-two rifle and your shotgun in the office to return to you.”