by Payne, T. L.
After picking a few, she pulled up the hem of her shirt and dropped them into the makeshift basket it formed. Maddie ate the creamy mango-banana flavored fruit as she walked, spitting seeds as she crossed the stream, and headed up the final hill before reaching Ron’s place.
When she emerged from the woods, Maddie could see Ron had company. She crouched in the ditch that ran along Slabtown Road and watched as Ron and the sheriff, stood in the driveway talking. Beside them stood Ron’s quarter horse, Iggy. Maddie could not make out their words, but from Ron’s body language, she could tell it was more than a friendly chat. Her curiosity got the better of her. After taking the last bite of her pawpaw, she stood and stepped onto the dirt road.
“Hey, Ron,” Maddie called.
Ron and Sheriff Stoddard both jerked around to face the road. Ron’s right hand dropped to his holster.
“Oh, hey, Maddie. What brings you over this way?” Ron asked, lifting his hand into the air.
At the sound of her voice, Mugsbie launched himself off the porch and ran barking toward Maddie. She met the dog at the entrance of the open gate. Maddie and the Australian shepherd wrestled around in the tall grass. Maddie threw a stick for him a few times as she waited for Ron and the sheriff to finish the conversation they had resumed. The two men continued talking as if she wasn’t there.
“I say we need to reach out to the folks over in Licking and work together to secure the county. You could deputize folks to give them some authority,” Ron said, handing the sheriff the reins to a saddled horse.
The sheriff gripped Iggy's reins in his left hand and stroked the animal’s mane.
“I’m not comfortable with a bunch of non-law enforcement people running all over the county with badges. Besides, most folks are struggling to survive. They don’t have the time or resources to patrol the county,” said the sheriff through his thick black mustache that covered his entire mouth, leaving only the tip of his chin visible.
“I’m not talking about them performing traditional deputy duties. I was referring to patrolling and securing their own roads or subdivisions. Everyone needs to be responsible for providing the safety of their families. If neighbors pull together and rotate duties, it can be done,” Ron said, patting the neck of the sheriff’s new horse.
The dapple-grey quarter horse nodded his head and leaned into Ron. Iggy had always been one of Maddie’s favorites. She’d been at the cabin the summer he’d been born. Maddie had been the second person to ride him after Ron broke him. With his even temperament, he was the right choice for the sheriff. Even still, Maddie was sad to see Ron part with Iggy.
As Maddie approached the men, she saw the saddlebags on the ground at the sheriff’s feet. She chuckled.
Wyatt Earp is gonna ride in on his horse and clean up the town.
Chapter 2
Kingman Compound
Kingman, Arizona
Event + 12 days
Kingman, Arizona, was blazing hot and bone dry. Beth expected that. What she didn’t expect was to have her hair stuck to her sweaty face and to feel so dirty. Without air conditioning, everyone was likely struggling with the heat this time of year. Her shower from the day before had felt amazing, but unless she stayed under the water, she was going to have to get used to feeling sticky and grimy.
Each of the compound’s conex container-turned housing units had just two windows. With only a light breeze, it was too hot to sleep once the sun came up. Beth was anxious to see if Roger was able to get back on the road, anyway.
Her bunkmates were up and getting ready for their day. Some wore tank tops and shorts, while others dressed in tactical pants and loose-fitting shirts. All wore holsters. Everyone Beth had seen on the compound wore one or more weapons on their person.
As Beth laced her boots, she watched an athletic young Hispanic woman checking her gear. The girl looked up and caught Beth staring at her. She smiled and returned to her task. As Beth holstered her pistol and slung her pack over her shoulder, the young woman approached her.
“You’re Greg Langston’s wife?”
Beth turned to face her. “Yes. Greg is my late husband. Did you know him?”
“No. But my dad did. He used to tell stories. You know—war stories. Greg Langston saved his life once and my dad was very grateful. He would tear up when he talked about it—and my father never cried,” the woman said, biting her lip.
“I’m Beth, by the way,” Beth said, “What is your dad’s name? Is he here?”
The woman shifted from foot to foot before answering.
“I’m Maria. My father was Marcos Garcia-Gonzales. He died. He took his life last spring.”
Beth reached out and touched her arm.
“Oh, I am so sorry, Maria.”
“I just wanted you to know that your husband meant a lot to my dad, and if there is anything I can do to help you, let me know.”
“Thank you, I will,” Beth said as she adjusted the straps on her pack. “I hope that my companion will be up to getting back on the road this morning. I’m anxious to get home to my kids.”
“I don’t know if Roger is ready or not, but I don’t think it would be good to leave the compound today,” Maria said.
“Why?” Beth’s voice cracked. She wasn’t prepared for more bad news.
“We are chasing down a band of scouts from the cartel. Our patrol had a run-in with them yesterday and reports say that they have moved a lot of men into the area,” Maria said as she turned to leave.
“Are you part of the search,” Beth said, pointing to her rifle.
“Yep,” Maria called over her shoulder.
When Beth cracked open the door to Roger’s room, her mother’s furry child, Jack, lifted one ear but didn’t stir from his spot in Roger’s armpit. Roger’s eyes were open, and he was staring at the ceiling.
“You awake?”
Roger slowly turned his head in her direction.
“Yep. Just deciding if I have to pee enough to risk the attack.”
“Attack?”
“Yeah. Your bed hog fur ball won’t let me move. He even showed teeth when I tried to roll out from under him.”
Beth laughed.
“Well, at least he isn’t laying on your bad shoulder.”
“Oh, he tried that last night,” Roger said, holding up a bandaged finger.
“What? He bit you?”
“Yes. I hope he had his rabies shot.”
“I am so sorry, Roger. Why did you let him get back in bed with you?”
Roger chuckled.
“Let him. After I got medical attention from Rebecca for my wound, I returned to the room, and he was in the middle of the bed. He just wagged that little pom pom tail like nothing ever happened. So, I crawled back in bed and went to sleep. This is how I woke up,” Roger said, pointing to the one-eyed dog.
Jack raised his head from Roger’s shoulder and cocked his head to the side. He stared at Roger for a moment with his one good eye then laid his head back down.
“Jack,” Beth said, reaching down and picking up the little dog, “have you been ornery for uncle Roger?”
Roger swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood.
“Awe, that feels great,” he said as he stretched. “Now if you don’t mind, I need to get dressed and visit the men’s room.”
Beth was encouraged to see that Roger felt well enough to go with her to the dining facility. Jack would have been happy to have the bed all to himself, but Beth put him back in his carrier in case Rebecca needed the room for her patients. Hopefully, Roger wouldn’t need it anymore, and they could take Jack and get back to their trip.
They found Rebecca cleaning medical instruments in the exam room. After thanking Rebecca for taking care of Roger, Beth stepped outside to wait as Rebecca and Roger began talking about possible issues with his wounds and his recovery potential. Rebecca’s son was seated in a lawn chair under an awning. His little feet dangled over the seat.
Beth removed Jack from his carrier a
nd hooked on his leash. The lazy dog looked up at Beth, raise his leg, and relieved himself on the side of the steps. The bed of prickly pears and yucca plants may have dissuaded him from being too adventurous in his search for a spot to relieve himself. A lizard ran across the step and down the sandy walkway.
“What’s your dog’s name?” the little boy asked.
“His name is Jack. What’s yours?”
“I’m Ethan. Can I pet him?” he asked, jumping down from the chair.
“He isn’t really friendly. He doesn’t see well, and it makes him nervous around strangers.”
Jack was just an asshole, but she couldn’t say that to a little boy.
“Oh. What happened to his eye?” the little boy said, as he knelt and reached out his hand to pet Jack.
“I wouldn’t…”
To Beth’s amazement, Jack turned and licked the boy’s face while his little pom pom tail wagged back and forth.
“He got an infection and the vet had to remove his eye. My mother adopted him from an animal shelter.”
“I’m adopted. My mother didn’t want me.”
Beth didn’t know what to say.
“Rebecca seems nice.”
“Yeah, she is. She’s my mother’s sister, but I call her mom now,” Ethan said as he hoisted the little fat dog into his arms and stood.
Ethan took Jack over to the shade of the awning and the two sat and played tug of war with a stuffed toy.
When Roger stepped out of the medical trailer, he shielded his eyes. It was a bright and sunny day in the desert. The temperature hovered around ninety degrees.
“You ready?” Beth asked.
“Yep, I am hungry.”
“Let’s go, Jack,” Beth called.
Jack didn’t move. He didn’t even turn his head and acknowledge she’d called his name.
“Can he stay here with me while you eat? I don’t think the colonel allows dogs in the cafeteria, anyway,” Ethan said as he held the toy just above Jack’s head.
Beth looked to Roger then back to Ethan.
“I don’t see why not. He seems content there in the shade. If you have to leave for any reason, would you mind putting him in his carrier and leaving him under the tree?” Beth asked. “We won’t be long.”
The dining facility was located in a large steel building. Its set up resembled a high school cafeteria to Beth. Beth and Roger each grabbed a tray and took their place in line. Just as the two reached the first serving line, a man dressed in a brown uniform rushed in from a side door.
“Everyone report to your stations. We’re taking heavy fire at the south gate,” the man yelled.
Trays were dropped and people scattered. Roger and Beth both just stood there and stared at one another. The server in front of them looked confused as if she didn’t know whether to dish food onto their plates or turn and run.
From behind the woman, Beth saw Angel appear, then disappear from a door to the right of her.
“Angel!” Beth yelled.
Angel stuck her head around the door. When she spotted Beth, she waved and approached them.
“What is going on here?”
“I’m not sure, exactly, except that there is some kind of trouble at one of the gates,” Angel said.
“Where are we supposed to go? Is it okay for us to stay here?” Beth asked.
“Honestly, I don’t know. I was never told anything but to stay in the kitchen until given the all clear. So, I guess you can stay.”
“I’ll take some bacon and eggs,” Roger said, pointing to the food trays.
The server smiled, dished up the food, and handed him the plate.
“Thank you. It smells delicious,” Roger said.
“How can you be so calm?” Beth asked. “There is obviously a firefight or something at one of the gates.”
“I think they can handle a little skirmish with a drug cartel. Besides, I missed dinner last night. Come to think of it, I missed lunch too.” He pointed to the biscuits and gravy. “Do you think I can get a plate of that too?”
“So, you don’t think there is any danger for us here?”
“I don’t hear any gunfire. Do you?” Roger asked.
Beth listened a moment.
“No.”
“Then, we aren’t in any immediate danger here.”
Beth raised an eyebrow. “Immediate danger?”
“If we hear gunfire, then we will act. Until then, I intend to make up for all the food I missed yesterday. Who knows when I will get to eat instant eggs again.”
“Yeah. That is going to be such a hardship,” Beth said, scrunching up her nose.
Beth was biting down on an apple wedge when she heard the first gunshots. She stiffened and looked wide-eyed at Roger, whose head was down as he shoveled food into his mouth.
“Didn’t you hear that? That sounds like gunfire to me.”
“It’s not close,” Roger said, taking a bite of his biscuit.
Another round of gunfire sounded off, and Beth jumped to her feet.
Roger wiped his mouth on his sleeve before reaching over and retrieving his rifle from where he’d leaned it against the empty chair. Beth grabbed her rifle and brought it up to the low ready. Taking a step back, she looked around to identify all the possible exits.
Roger took a drink of his lemonade and set the glass back onto the table. He placed the sling around his neck and gripped his rifle in his uninjured right hand. With his left arm still in its sling, he rested the barrel on his right shoulder as he walked to a side door.
“Where the hell are you going?” Beth called after him.
As he opened the door, Roger said, “To get a look-see. I need to know what trouble these guys are facing.”
“Wait. Don’t go out there—you’re injured. You can’t even hold your rifle properly.”
“I’ve never let that stop me before.”
Beth had to run to catch up with Roger as he hurried toward the sound of the action.
When Beth and Roger reached the south gate, they found it open and abandoned. The gun battle had moved down the road, out of sight. Beth looked up to the guard tower. There was no one left manning the checkpoint. She saw no guards or anyone to defend the compound from intruders.
“Beth, grab that bar,” Roger yelled as he ran toward the battle.
“Wait, where are you going?”
“Just get the gate shut and locked, then get back to the chow hall.”
Roger disappeared around the side of a parked car as Beth pushed the massive gate closed. She climbed the ladder to the guard tower, placed the rifle to her shoulder and peered through the scope scanning the area. She didn’t see any sign of the battle or enemy intruders, which made her wonder if the guards at this entrance left to join another team. But why would they leave the gate open and unmanned? It didn’t make sense.
Gunfire continued in the distance. Beth stood and scanned the area beyond the gate for intruders but saw none. She crouched down and took a look around. There was no one on that side of the compound. She heard no voices.
Beth leaned forward to get a view of the direction in which Roger had gone. Her knee hit the sandbags that were stacked against the side facing the gate. Taking a step back, her heel found a pile of spent cartridges on the guard tower floor. It looked as if someone had emptied at least two, thirty-round magazines from that position. Light shined through two holes in the metal siding. Tiny droplets of blood ran down the sandbags.
They’d hit their mark.
She had no idea what had become of the injured guard.
Whatever trouble the two scouts that were brought in the day before had gotten into, appeared to have followed them home.
While she listened for sounds of gunfire, Beth’s imagination ran wild. Roger was out there with an unknown number of combatants. She wanted to go after him. The more she thought of him running off into the desert alone without knowing what type of enemy he faced, the more furious she became. What the hell was he thinking? Was s
he destined to be surrounded by men who just reacted without thinking about the consequences for those they leave behind?
The distant sound of loose gravel being kicked and crunched underfoot caught her attention. They were coming toward her position fast—two people dressed in desert camo were quickly approaching from the southeast. With the rifle’s scope to her eye, she could see that one had a leg injury and was being assisted by the other. As the pair grew closer, Beth recognized the uninjured person. It was Maria Gonzales, the young woman whose father had served with Greg.
Beth slung her rifle over her back and climbed down the steps. She hoisted the heavy bar and pushed the gate open. Concealing herself behind the tall steel gate, she pulled her rifle to her shoulder and scanned the area from side to side. No one was following the two.
As Maria and the injured man reached the gate, Beth asked, “What the hell is happening out there?”
“While out on patrol, we came under attack. We were pinned down about a mile-and-a-half from here. We lost some guys. I was down to my last magazine before reinforcements arrived,” Maria called as she and her comrade passed through the gate.
Beth pulled the gate closed and locked it shut with the heavy bar.
“Who attacked you?”
“The cartel,” Maria called over her shoulder. “Where is Troy?”
“Troy?”
“The guard on duty?” Maria asked.
“I don’t know. Roger and I found the gate open and everyone was gone.”
“Shit! I’ll drop Smith here off with the doc and come relieve you.”
“Okay. Did you see Roger?”
“No,” Maria said as she disappeared around a metal building.
As Beth climbed the ladder to the guard tower, she listened intently. She thought she heard gunfire in the distance. It was faint, but in the absence of other man-made sounds, it stood out. She felt exposed as she ascended the steps, rifle slung over her back. When Beth reached the tower, she dropped to her knees and unslung her rifle. She rested it on top of the sandbags and continued to scan the area for threats.