by Roger Hayden
Such thoughts filled his mind when suddenly Curtis noticed lights in his rearview mirror. A police car was trailing them, flashing its lights with intent to pull them over. Or so it seemed. Bob’s eyes opened and he flew forward in a panic. It seemed as though the police cruiser had come from nowhere.
Curtis signaled to the right and slowed down.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Bob shouted.
Angered, Curtis whipped his head around. “What do you want me to do, go on a high-speed chase?”
Bob swore and pounded the dashboard. “Okay, okay. Go ahead and pull over, but don’t say a word to him or I’ll shoot both of you. I don’t even care.” He then punched the dashboard again in frustration. Curtis felt blanketed by relief. There was no way Bob was going to get away with any of this. He slowed to a stop on the shoulder of the barren road, even more relieved as the cruiser followed and halted behind them, lights flashing.
“Not a word,” Bob said, exposing his pistol. “Be smart.”
Curtis shut the engine off and glanced into the rearview mirror. The lights continued flashing and a young officer stepped out, a man Curtis recognized immediately. It was Deputy Ramirez. There was a chance Curtis could send him a signal, or something else that could get him out of this without getting himself killed. He rolled down the window while pulling out his wallet. Bob opened the glove compartment, pulled a sheet of paper out, and tossed it in Curtis’s lap.
“That’s the registration. Remember what I said.”
“Ten-four,” Curtis said as Deputy Ramirez approached.
“Afternoon, Deputy,” Curtis said.
“Good afternoon, sir,” Ramirez said, seemingly not recognizing him at first. Curtis felt immediately safe, prepared to tell the deputy everything, but he hesitated. An ominous premonition seized him, a warning of something horrible about to happen. There was no going back now for Bob or any of them, and Curtis knew it.
Deputy Ramirez, however, had just interfered with something beyond his understanding. Curtis maintained a friendly smile and cautious demeanor, despite Bob glaring at him. With a pistol aimed at his side, Curtis felt powerless to do anything, and as Ramirez appeared at the driver’s side window, he took a deep breath and hoped for the best.
***
Mary and Theo ran to Pastor Phil’s barn and slipped inside its open, red double doors. The dryness and smell of hay in the air was overpowering. Theo pulled the wooden doors shut behind them and then struggled to place a two-by-four board behind the cross-braces on the back of the doors, sealing them shut.
“Won’t that raise suspicion?” Mary asked. “I’m sure they noticed that the doors were open last time they were here.”
“It buys us some time,” Theo said. “You’re the one who insisted that we run in here.”
She admitted as much, but something else was bothering her. “Were we really reading each other’s minds back there?” she asked excitedly. “You could hear me?”
Theo seemed just as amazed and in doubt. “I think so. I thought I could hear you, but I wondered if it was just my mind playing tricks on me.”
Mary’s heart pounded with her excitement. They had reached a new threshold in their abilities, but for the time being, they had to concentrate on survival.
Mary scanned the barn, which was lit only by light streaming in through cracks in the siding. There was a ladder ahead of them, leading to the second floor of the barn. Haystacks were piled on all sides and on the second floor. There was a nearby wall with a pitchfork, shovel, and rake mounted on pegs.
Phil seemed to have been an efficient farmer, but finding that out wasn’t the reason Mary’s instincts had led them into the barn. Since they couldn’t leave, she did her best to figure out why she had felt the need to be there. Theo kept a careful eye on the door with the .45 poised and ready to fire.
Mary slowly paced toward the wooden ladder, thinking out loud. “What if no one has found this secret thing Phil has hidden because they’re looking in the wrong place?”
Distracted, Theo leaned closer to the door and peeked through one of the slits. He kept a careful eye on the house as Mary placed her hands on the ladder and looked up into the rays of sunlight that leaked into the barn from open slits between the wooden above them. She felt exhausted and unnerved but also purposeful. This was where they belonged.
If not for her last-second impulse to head for the barn, naturally, she and Theo would have fled into the forest, where there were plenty of places to hide. But not now. They had chosen the barn for a reason. She paused and looked around at all the haystacks. The needle was there somewhere, she was sure of it. If only she had a better idea of what they were looking for.
“What would Phil have that was so important that he would be killed for it?” Mary said out loud.
“I don’t know, but one of the Taylor brothers just walked outside.” Theo turned and rushed toward the ladder, urging Mary to climb up it. “Come on. We’re safer up there.”
Mary climbed the ladder, making it shake and wobble. She felt the approaching presence of the Taylor brothers as she made it to the platform, where straw lay scattered on the floor and bundles of hay surrounded them. There was certainly no shortage of hiding spots.
She walked along the second floor, peering down as Theo pulled the ladder up and placed it flat on the second-level platform. He covered his mouth, trying to shield a cough. “It’s so dusty up here,” he said, quietly sneezing. “But at least we’re hidden.” Of course the door, boarded from the inside, was a giveaway.
“What if they torch the place?” he asked. “With all these hay bales, we wouldn’t have a chance.”
“They won’t if they think what they’re looking for is hidden here,” she said with false bravado.
Mary crept past some haystacks and approached an octagon-shaped window overlooking Phil’s backyard. Two Taylor brothers were in view below, minus Garret, the one with the scar. She had learned their names at Phil’s memorial. The other brothers, Jeffery and Liam, were tall and lean, like Garret, with full heads of gray hair—their skin pale and ghost-like. Jeffery was clean-shaven with trimmed hair and wore blue jeans, boots, a jean jacket, and dark Aviator shades.
Liam, on the other hand, had long wispy hair down to his shoulders and a thick handlebar mustache. He had noticeable cuts on his cheeks and forehead, like markings caused by glass in a car accident. All three brothers were menacing in their own way, as though they were programmed to harm others without care or reason.
Jeffery and Liam walked past Phil’s garden, searching through the backyard with deft precision. Jeffery had his pistol drawn as he scanned the woods ahead. Liam split off, approaching the forest from the other side, empty-handed. Mary assumed that it was Liam’s pistol, carelessly left behind, that Theo had taken.
She heard Theo’s footsteps creak behind her as he snuck over to the small, dirty window to get a better look.
“Looks like they’re not interested in the barn,” he said. “Not yet anyway.”
“Fingers crossed,” Mary said.
As they watched the brothers move farther away from the barn and into the forest, a new worry suddenly overcame her. What if the Taylor brothers decided not to leave? What if they decided to set up camp for the next few days or even weeks? What if they called others to join them in a wide search of the entire property, including the barn?
She moved away from the window and pulled her cell phone from her pocket, prepared to call Curtis. There were several missed calls from him, a text asking her status, and a voice mail, and she decided to just call him back. After several rings, the phone went to voice mail.
“Curtis, call me back, please, as soon as you get this message.” She hung up while weighing her next option: whether or not to alert the police.
It was clear that their lives were in danger and that things could get much worse. Theo was at the window, keeping a careful eye on the Taylor brothers. Mary asked him about Chief Riley. “What do you think? He gave m
e his card. I can at least let him know what’s going on out here.”
“At this point, we don’t know who’s in on this thing and who isn’t. Can we trust the police?” he asked, still looking out the window.
“I don’t know,” Mary said. “He seemed like a straight-up person. What choice do we have? How long can we hide in this barn before they find us?” She was aware that her fear and uncertainty were beginning to show, despite how confident she had been when they had first run into the barn. She didn’t want anyone to get hurt—not her or Theo, or the Taylor brothers for that matter. “I could make an anonymous call,” she said. “Report a break-in at Phil’s. At least that’d get them out here. Or maybe they have caller ID.
Theo finally turned his head to her with a look of understanding. “Whatever you feel is necessary. Either way, it doesn’t look like we’re going anywhere for a while.”
Mary looked at her phone, trying to decide the best course of action. It seemed there was little choice but to alert the authorities. If anything, it would at least put the Taylor brothers in an awkward position.
“You see anything?” they heard Jeffery yell from one side of the backyard.
“Nah… You?” Liam shouted from the other.
The nearness of their voices was enough to push Mary toward calling the police. She held up Chief Riley’s card and began to dial when she felt a jolt of electricity as a strange glitch turned her screen black. Her fingers continued to move across the screen as she stared in disbelief, waiting for it to come back on. Desperation coupled with fear grew inside her along with increasing frustration.
“What the hell?” she said.
“What happened?” Theo asked. His head was turned back on window patrol.
“My phone… it just died.” She pressed the side power button to no avail. “Oh, please, please, come on.”
Concerned, Theo turned back to her and pulled his phone from his pocket. He glanced at the screen and then handed it to Mary. “Here. Try this.”
She shook her head and put her phone away, still confused, and took his. “Thank you.”
She swiped the screen and was immediately met with another static shock, startling her.
“You okay?” Theo asked after hearing her say “ow!”
“Yeah…” she said, staring at the blank screen. “Your phone died too.”
Theo swung his head around, eyes narrowed. “What?” He yanked the phone from her hand. “What are you talking about?” He tried various methods of getting it to power back on to no avail. For a moment, nothing made sense—another unexplained phenomenon. Through the confusion, however, Mary had a moment of clarity. She walked past Theo as he remained preoccupied with his phone. Something was leading her, providing the assistance she had hoped for since arriving at Phil’s house. The barn held secrets after all. She had brought Theo inside here for a reason.
Mary spun around, eyes brimming with conviction. “There’s something hidden here,” she said. “Something of great value.”
Theo looked up, holding his phone. His head turned like an oscillating fan, surveying the barn in all its vastness, looking in all directions. “Where do we start?”
“Anywhere,” she said. “Just keep looking until we sense it. There’s a needle somewhere, and it’s up to us to find it.”
Theo took a last glance outside the window. The Taylor brothers were heading back into the house. “We better hurry then,” he said. “They’re going to focus on this barn soon enough.”
Mary agreed and climbed down the ladder first as Theo began his search upstairs. She’d hoped that it would come to her, whatever it was they were looking for. Another piece of a conspiracy puzzle she still hadn’t yet solved.
Against the Wall
Deputy Ramirez stood outside the car window, taking a glance inside Bob’s Volvo. At first, the deputy didn’t seem to recognize either men. He simply examined the car from behind his Oakleys. He smelled of aftershave, and his neatly trimmed high fade looked recent. The hand mic clipped to his shoulder crackled with static. He held a notepad in one hand and kept his other hand near the holstered pistol on his side.
After his own generic greeting, Curtis’s friendly tone seemed foreign to himself as though he were listening to someone else speak.
Ramirez took a closer look and smiled in recognition. “Mr. Malone, hello! Almost didn’t recognized you for a minute there.”
Bob leaned forward, making himself known as well. He was sweaty and seemed on edge despite his wide-eyed smile. Curtis hoped that Ramirez would be remain oblivious, for his own sake. Deckers was growing more erratic by the minute.
“Deputy Ramirez, good to see you!” Bob said with a wave, his pistol still concealed under his suit coat.
Ramirez took his glasses off and waved back. “Mr. Deckers. Nice to see you.” He then did a double take, realizing something was out of the ordinary. He placed a tan hand on the door and leaned in. “Isn’t this your car, Mr. Deckers?” he asked.
“Why, yes,” Bob said, growing increasingly nervous. “Ol’ Curtis wanted to take it for a drive. I’m thinking of selling it to him.”
Ramirez nodded while looking down at his notepad. “I see. Well, you might want to replace that left taillight before you put her on the market.”
Curtis stared ahead, not saying a word. The cuts and bruises to his face were on his right side, concealed from Ramirez’s view, but as he sat there, he could feel a warm line of blood trickling down his forehead.
“Taillight?” Bob said, surprised. He turned around, looking out his back window. “Gee, I had no idea. Thanks for letting me know, Deputy.”
Deputy Ramirez nodded again and then scratched his head, in anticipation of an awkward follow-up. “Yes, but according to our records, you were informed about this deficiency two weeks ago and given a warning. It’s in the system.”
Bob paused, thinking to himself, and his smile dropped. Curtis could see the tiny beads of sweat dripping down his forehead. He opened his mouth, appearing to be combative, when his shoulders slumped and he smacked himself on the forehead. “Gee… you know, Deputy. Now I remember.” He paused, shaking his head. “It was during the Labor Day festival. Seems like forever ago.” His face then bounced up, smiling. “I’m sorry, I completely forgot. I promise to get that replaced today.”
Ramirez continued scribbling on his pad. “I understand that, Mr. Deckers, but it’s official policy. I’m going to have give you a ticket this time.”
Curtis glanced at Bob through his peripheral vision and could see that he was doing his best to mask his irritation.
Ramirez continued. “So I’m going to have to see both your licenses and registration, please.”
Bob turned his head, glaring out the window. “Deputy Ramirez, please. I’ll change the light today. Can’t we just let this one go? We’re in a very big hurry.”
Ramirez shook his head. “I’m sorry, Bob. I’d like to, but this time I’ve got to give you the citations. Those are the rules.”
He said no more and seemed to expect their compliance without further issue. Curtis fished through his wallet and pulled his license out, handing it to the deputy. Bob, however, was increasingly agitated. He bit his lip and reached for the glove compartment, opening it. Why didn’t he do what he was told as quickly as he could and get rid of the deputy as fast as possible? After all, it was only a minor traffic ticket.
Curtis was careful not to turn his head toward the window, lest Deputy Ramirez inquire about the injuries. He wiped the thin trail of blood from his forehead as Bob handed over his license and registration. For a moment, they sat in silence as Ramirez looked through everything. Curtis glanced at the bulge on Bob’s arm hidden under a gray suit coat.
“How’s everything going at your place, Mr. Malone?” Ramirez asked Curtis as he handed the licenses back to him. “Any other strange occurrences?” He laughed as Curtis smiled sheepishly.
“It’s been quiet. Still hoping you guys can catch those vandals,” he
said.
Ramirez nodded as he filled out a citation. “I’ve got my eye on some teenagers in the area. One of them, Scott Landis, may just be responsible for a string of incidents, along with his little buddies.” He tore the citation from his book and leaned in, handing it to Bob, who snatched the ticket away. Ramirez said, “I think they’re the same ones behind a cemetery vandalism last week.”
“That’s terrible,” Curtis said. “Hope you catch them.”
Deputy Ramirez rested his arm on the door again and leaned in to offer his parting words. Curtis had a patch of gauze on his forehead given to him by Deckers that had managed to stop most of the bleeding, but it was steadily slipping out of place, and he was already thinking of what excuse he would give for it.
“Redwood is a nice community. A safe community, and that’s how we like it,” the deputy said with inherent pride. “But just like anywhere else, you’ve got your troublemakers.”
“Ain’t that the truth,” Curtis said.
Bob remained stoically quiet, clutching the ticket in one hand and hiding his pistol in the other. Ramirez looked into the car again, as if something was bothering him. There was clearly tension in the air, and it seemed as though the deputy was beginning to take notice. “You guys all right?” he asked.
Bob quickly turned his head, putting on a clueless expression. “Yeah, of course. Just in a rush, like I said.”
“Oh yeah,” Ramirez asked. “Where to?”
“My place,” Curtis said, cutting in. “We’re hoping to surprise Mary with dinner before she gets home.”
“And where’s Mary at today?” he asked, in his seemingly endless sea of questions.
“Still at the fair,” Curtis and Bob said in unison.
“Ah,” he said, patting the side of the door. For a moment, it seemed as if the deputy just wanted to make small talk. Curtis had never seen Bob so anxious. His knee was shaking, and he was constantly wiping the sweat from his face with a pocket square.