Dirty South Drug Wars

by Jae Hood

  The ebb and flow of sound came and went as the water drifted in and out of my ears, but I heard them in the distance cussing and pacing, searching the woods. A bright light landed on my face, blinding me. I dropped my head below the surface of the black water, holding my breath as long as possible before emerging once more. The light had shifted in a new direction. Two dark figures stood at the top of the hill, one holding a spotlight, slowly guiding the shaky beam across the forest floor.

  “Where are they?” Buck asked. “I saw her. I saw the girl.”

  Amos and Buck’s figures were silhouetted by the pale moonlight washing through the trees. Amos wiped his nose with the back of his arm. “I heard her scream when you shot. She’s out here somewhere. Heading to the highway probably, hopefully losing a lot of blood.”

  “She’ll never find her way out,” Buck assured him in a confident, gravelly tone. “These woods are easy to get lost in. Especially a young girl. And if I got a good shot on her, she’ll most likely bleed to death out here before anyone finds her.”

  “You better hope you got a clean shot on her,” Amos said in an eerily nostalgic voice. “Rue is her daddy’s girl. She knows the woods like the back of her hand.”

  The rush of a stiff, hot wind picked up, whispering through the trees, drowning out the remainder of their words for a moment before I heard their conversation resume. Then Buck said something that turned my blood into ice water.

  “I’ll call down to the station,” he told Amos. “I’ll get Wes to bring the K9 down here. Old Rosco will sniff them out in a New York minute.”

  If Amos said anything, it was lost in the babbling of the creek and the chattering of dry, cracked branches. The beam of light disappeared, bathing the forest in darkness once more. I blinked several times, trying to focus on my surroundings, my gaze darting back to the top of the hill. The two silhouettes were gone.

  My heart picked up pace in my chest as I swayed in the water. The thought of passing out in the creek and Tanner searching the woods for me, only to be murdered, was overwhelming. I took a deep breath, trying to calm the blood racing through my veins, knowing the increase of my pulse could cause me to bleed out even faster.

  When the forest was silent yet again, I parted the curtain of bony roots, pushing myself through the water and standing on weak legs. I waded with determination through the water as far north as the creek would allow.

  My time to find Tanner was limited, but I had a pretty good idea of where he would be. He wouldn’t be roaming the woods searching for me. He’d be waiting, waiting in the one place he’d told me to run. I could only hope he’d made it to the highway by now. If Buck had radioed the police station and requested the K9, I’d be caught within minutes and I’d never know if he made it out of the woods alive.

  “That’s just the way it works, Rue.” Amos had shrugged with an easy grin when I’d once complained about crooked cops. “They make a few arrests, make the community believe they’re doing their jobs when, in reality, people like me are paying them off. Everyone’s a winner.”

  “Except the ones who get caught,” I’d said. “That’s hardly fair. What do you have to say about that?”

  He’d grinned. “Simple. Don’t get caught.”

  Don’t get caught.

  Three words easier said than done. Don’t get caught. Had Tanner gotten caught? Had Graham? Did Amos and Buck murder Tanner’s uncle as they’d so proudly boasted? Had they found Tanner and murdered him as well?

  I trudged forward, forcing the thought from my mind, busying myself by brushing the tip of my index finger against the wound in my neck. I cringed at the burn, yet sighed in relief at the shallow indentation marred in my flesh. Somehow the bullet had simply grazed me, leaving a flesh wound, albeit a good-sized one.

  Water from the creek had probably ruined my flashlight, but I was too afraid to test the beam. Instead, I chucked it as far as I could throw in an opposing direction, hoping the scent would throw the dog off, even for a few seconds.

  A break in the trees up ahead on a tall embankment called to me, and I knew I had found the highway. My body felt heavy and tired as I pulled myself from the creek, digging my fingers in the moist earth. I climbed up the bank.

  Headlights shone in the distance and I staggered, unsure if I should flag down help or scramble away from the strange vehicle approaching. The car sped forward before coming to an abrupt stop, pulling up beside me.

  Run, I told myself, but a sound behind me rooted my feet to the ground. Tanner’s broken voice echoed through the trees as a large figure emerged from the car, his identity hidden by the sooty clouds drifting in front of the moon.

  Seized with horror, I yelped as the man shoved me into the backseat of the car. The shadowy figure climbed into the driver’s seat. I scrambled for the door handle, but it was no use. The door wouldn’t open, wouldn’t budge. Each breath from my mouth fogged the window, and I wiped it away, peering down the bank for Tanner until I found him.

  Tanner climbed the hill, boots slipping on dewy grass. He glanced up and seemed to meet my gaze, although it was impossible through the tinted glass. Still, he smiled with relief, his feet picking up speed.

  I smiled in return, the emotion slipping away as a short, dark figure darted from the woods behind him. The teeth of a canine sank into his right arm. The man at the wheel pressed on the gas, jerking us forward.

  I banged on the window with my fists, screaming his name and throwing myself against the car door. A second dog broke the tree line, joining the first. The second dog also sank his teeth into Tanner’s arm, twisting his body to one side and dragging him across the ground. I continued yelling in a broken scream, my throat sore and useless.

  He seemed to hear me, to sense me, because he glanced up the hill one last time. Tanner and the German Shepherds faded away, replaced with the swirl of dark pines and thick oaks. I cried his name, banging the gun against the door, trying the handle to no avail.

  “You can try all you want,” the smooth voice of the driver informed me, easily taking a turn much too sharp for the speed we were traveling, “but that door doesn’t unlock unless I want it to.”

  “You can’t just leave him,” I said, ignoring the slight cocky edge to his voice. “The dogs! Amos and Buck! They’ll kill him.”

  He fiddled with the radio. “They won’t kill him. They probably would have if I hadn’t shown up. They didn’t see my face, I’m sure. It was timed so perfectly. I bet Buck and Amos are beside themselves now, wondering who I am.”

  The reverent glee in his voice disgusted me, but I shouldn’t have been surprised at his excitement. We always thrilled this man—the Monroes and Montgomerys, that was. Our families inadvertently built a legacy around us. We were thrust into the middle of a feud, a battle that’d waged on years before our time, just because of our surnames, and this man made himself a part of it to fulfill a legacy of his own: the legacy of his father.

  Detective Holloway continued to speak, gloating about his place in history, how his name would pass from mouth to mouth for years to come as the one to end the infamous feud. As the words spewed from him, I gripped the gun, remembering its presence for the first time. I stroked the metal between my fingers, meeting his even stare in the rearview mirror.

  “Don’t even think about it,” he told me in a solemn tone, no longer full of boastful pride. “I wouldn’t have let you keep it if I wasn’t on your side.”

  I was on him in a flash. The car swerved once the gun was pressed against his temple, although I doubted I would have cared if we wrecked. I saw nothing but red—the scarlet color of anger, the prism of blood seeping from Tanner’s body, the satin stain of my sister’s lipstick the last time I saw her, really saw her, standing beside her own grave.

  “Put down the gun, Rue,” the detective told me. His voice betrayed the mask of calm indifference on his face as he gained control over the wavering vehicle. “How did I know where to find you tonight, unless someone told me? Who could have told m
e, Rue?”

  The cocking of my gun broke over his timed, even breaths, causing him to flinch. His fingers grasped the steering wheel in a grip of death. “Buck, Amos, how should I know?”

  “Tanner,” he replied. “Tanner sent me.”

  I scoffed, shaking my head in faux amusement. “Ha. Tanner couldn’t have sent you. I’ve been with Tanner all night.”

  “Put down the gun and I’ll explain. Damn it, Rue, I wouldn’t have let you keep the gun if I thought you were gonna pull the damn thing on me. I’m trying to help. I’ve been trying to help for a long time, long before we first met.”

  There was no deception in his voice, no clear-cut proof he was lying, but he didn’t ask me for the gun, and I sure as hell wasn’t about to hand it over. Instead, I removed the cold, hard metal from his temple and slumped back against the leather seat.

  A familiar gray bridge came into view, the yellow reflectors running along the highway beaming brightly against his headlights.

  “Tanner and I have kept in close contact since the fire at the hospital. He was desperate to end this feud, one way or the other, especially after seeing you so devastated by what happened to your sister. I know about the safe. I know about the contents of the safe and the fact that Amos is a Montgomery by birth. I know about Levi Bridges. I know he’s dead, and Davis as well. And others. I know about others.”

  “You’re crazy,” I said. “Why would Tanner confess to all that? Tanner’s not an idiot, Detective Holloway.”

  He chuckled, maneuvering the vehicle onto an old dirt road. “No, Tanner’s not an idiot, but that boy would do anything for you, even face prison time if he has to. Of course, he won’t have to face prison time,” the detective told me. “You both have my word on that. You all have my word on that.”

  “You have no authority.”

  “You don’t know anything about authority. Especially since I’ve now gone rogue.” He smirked, gloating with gusto.

  “What do you mean by that?”

  He laughed, his deep dimples beaming at me from the mirror as we pulled in front of Tanner’s home. “I’m no longer working with the FBI. I quit.”

  I frowned at the back of his head. “You quit? Why would you quit?”

  “God help me if I’m wrong,” he said, his voice edged with a tender tone, “and maybe I’m not doing the right thing by most people’s standards, but I can’t find it within myself to care anymore. I have to make things right with my father. The Monroes and Montgomerys have their legacy, but what about my father’s legacy? He killed himself over this case, working day and night, searching for evidence, struggling to find a break to finally put an end to the feud, to put an end to the drugs, the dirty money, the crime, and for what? My mother left him for another man. His time with me and my kid brother was practically non-existent. It was squandered away on this case. I’m here for retribution. I’m here for my father.”

  His last few words were spoken with a deceptively carefree shrug. Detective Holloway shifted the car into park and cut the engine. The bright beam of lights faded away and was replaced by the soft yellow glow from the front porch, a welcoming sight for an unpleasant situation, and as the front door of the large house opened, so did my mind. Everything I questioned about the detective sitting only inches away took to the back-burner, because emerging from inside the house and onto the dimly lit porch was none other than Graham Montgomery, alive and well.

  *

  The smell of rain lingered all around me. The rolling clouds snuffed out the moon and stars, but I searched for them. I searched for some semblance of him, of the moon and stars, of Artemis and Cash, of the truth that we were here, that he was still alive, but there was none. Not one twinkle dotted the black mass above me. My heart sank as I wrapped my arms around my knees, drawing into myself on the wicker chair on Graham and Melissa’s porch, waiting for something, anything, that would lead me to believe Tanner truly was alive and well since no one had contacted us concerning him.

  Graham and Detective Holloway sat nearby, smoking cigars and carrying on easy conversation. I found it very odd and highly unsettling how these men acted, how a criminal and an FBI detective could keep such casual company with one another, chatting as though they were old fishing buddies instead of two men on opposite ends of the spectrum.

  Their friendly demeanor was more shocking than the fact that Graham was alive at all.

  “How long have you had your brother posing as a deputy in Mayhaw, Benson?” Graham reached inside his breast pocket and removed two cigars.

  Oh, they’re on a first name basis now?

  Detective Holloway shrugged and accepted the offered cigar. “A while now. Where’d you learn how to build a car bomb?”

  “In Kentucky,” Graham drawled, puffing away, his cheeks hollowing out as he inhaled. “But it’s been years. Guess my timing was a little off.”

  The two men shared a hearty laugh. I couldn’t be mad at Graham for my cousin’s fate. He was playing his part in the plan, rigging up the vehicle that inevitably exploded. He’d slipped away undetected into the night, unknowing that a young girl would be with my uncles.

  Unknowing, but also uncaring.

  “Rue, honey, why don’t you eat something?” Melissa hovered in the nearby doorway wringing her fingers.

  I toyed with my cell phone, clicking on my photo album app. “I’m not hungry.”

  Scrolling through my photos, Tanner’s lazy smile greeted me. Tears pricked the corners of my eyes, but I forced them back. The sound of a heavy engine and the crunch of gravel beneath thick tires drew my attention away from the phone. I stood as Brodie’s truck pulled in, followed by Bryce’s.

  The two boys left their vehicles and crossed the drive. Brodie’s face was a mask of worry. He trudged up the steps with Bryce on his heels, their playful demeanor gone once they saw me standing on the porch.

  “Where’s Tanner?”

  “We don’t know,” Brodie replied, running his fingers through his thick curls. “He told us to haul ass if Amos were to show up while y’all were breaking into the office, so that’s what we did. Then I called Detective Holloway and told him which direction y’all were heading.”

  “So I heard. You were in on this too? In on this with Tanner? You knew Tanner was talking to the FBI. And you didn’t tell me. None of y’all told me.”

  “No offense, Rue,” Bryce drawled. A tiny shadow of a smile curled one side of his mouth. He leaned on the porch railing. “But you’re not exactly working with a full deck of cards. Excuse us for not letting you in on a highly important secret.”

  Puzzled by his smirk, his words, and the stern glare Brodie gave him, I shook my head. “I have no idea what you mean. Where’s Josie?”

  “In the truck,” he said, jutting his thumb in the direction of the tinted windows. “She just found out about Olivia. She’s … I don’t know what to do for her.”

  “I’ll talk to her,” I told him, walking down the porch steps. He gave me a silent nod.

  I walked across the lawn and down the drive, pulled the driver’s side door open, and climbed inside Bryce’s truck. The door gave a decisive sound as it slammed behind me. I turned sideways, tucking my legs up to my chest.

  Josie stared at the dashboard. Her eyes were swollen and red, the whites bloodshot yet void of tears. I guessed she’d already cried them all out.

  “They airlifted Olivia to a burn center in Birmingham,” she whispered. “She has burns on over eighty percent of her body, most of which are third-degree. Peyt called me. He’s hysterical! His mother is hysterical. My mother is freaking out because my father never came home tonight. Mama hasn’t heard from him and doesn’t know where he is. This is so messed up, Rue. This wasn’t part of the plan.”

  Josie’s breathing increased, coming out in short, rapid wisps. She brought her head down in her hands, the tears making a return.

  My comforting hand was shrugged away at first, but she soon welcomed it. Her shoulders relaxed as I rubbed her back,
staying silent, letting her work through her own emotions without verbally consoling her, because words were moot at that point. Telling her we did the right thing would be a lie. We took matters into our own hands, and what came out of it? Olivia was out of state in a burn unit fighting for her life, Tanner was somewhere, possibly dead, and my sister still wouldn’t answer the phone, no matter how many times I called her, craving nothing but her voice, her silly laugh, and the warm familiarity of someone I could trust with my own life.

  “There’s a storm coming through tonight,” I said. “I smell the rain.”

  Josie sniffed, wiping her face with the back of her hand. “You sound like your sister. That sounds like something Lucy would say. She was always saying the storm was coming.”

  “Maybe I’ve got a little of Lucy inside me. We are sisters after all.”

  A strange look crossed my cousin’s face, a look of pity, longing, and anger. She straightened up in the seat and pulled a hair tie from around her wrist. Twisting her long, cornsilk strands, she tied her hair up in a sloppy bun on the top of her head then turned to me.

  “I wish we’d never gone to that party.” Her words were so firm, so steady, that I didn’t doubt them for a second, although they shocked me into silence. “All this shit started because of us crossing that stupid bridge.”

  “How can you even think that, let alone say it? How can you say you wish we never crossed that bridge? You would’ve never met Bryce. I would’ve never reconnected with Tanner …”

  “Olivia would be okay. You … you would be okay. Lucy would be here. This is all my fault. It was my idea to go to that stupid party. I talked you into it. I practically forced you to go.”

  “Hey.” I gently shook her arm, hoping to shake a little sense into her. “You didn’t force me to do anything. I’m my own person. Besides, I’d do it all again in a heartbeat. I love Tanner. I’ll do anything for him.”

  “You’d risk losing your sister all over? You’d choose him over Lucy again?”