by Robert Boren
Jason choked up. “I love you too, Eric. See you soon, hopefully. Remember to watch your back.”
Eric slipped his phone back into his pocket and leaned against his Bronco, crying.
“Young man, what’s the matter?” asked Mrs. Williams from her porch.
“Lost my father,” he said. “I’ve got to leave town, but I’ll make sure to set up the attorney meeting with you.”
“I’m so sorry,” she said. “Take care.”
Eric got into his Bronco and headed for the RV Park. His grief was turning into anger quickly. They messed with the wrong family.
Chapter 14 – The Love Nest
“You going to be able to turn around here?” Kate asked, looking around the yard in front of Jason’s folks house.
“Piece of cake,” Kyle said, making the wide turn in front of the house, following the big motor home onto the dirt road.
“You think this place he’s talking about will be safe?”
“Well, it’s out in the middle of nowhere and we don’t have to sign in or use a credit card,” Kyle said. “We won’t have electricity other than the generator in the motor home.”
“That’s okay,” she said. “I’ve got LED lights now, and the car charges the batteries up when we tow. I’ve also got a solar panel. We’ll be fine.”
“How much propane we got?”
“Full,” she said. “Or close to full. The fridge has been using it since we unhooked from my space.” She studied the grim expression on his face. Kyle was on the verge of tears. She rested her hand on his thigh. “I can’t imagine what it would be like to find my parents like that.”
“It was hard. Even hard for me. I grew up with Jason, and was close to his mom and dad.” Tears were forming around his eyes. Kate petted his arm as he drove.
“I’m so sorry,” she said.
“Thanks,” he said, glancing at her as the truck bounced down the dirt road. “Glad we’re together.”
“I think I am too,” she said. “It feels right, but it’s early.”
“We’ve got plenty of time,” he said. “Finally, the blacktop.”
“We getting back on 290?”
“No, we’re taking 87 North,” Kyle said. “To a long dirt road we know about. That’s where the camping spot is.”
“Sounds good,” she said. “What about your family? You worried about the Islamists hunting them down?”
“I don’t have anybody left except my brother, and he’s in the military,” Kyle said. “Army lifer. Not even sure where he is right now.”
“Sounds like Jason’s brother.”
Kyle chuckled. “Kinda, I guess. Eric and his dad had a falling out, and both of them were too stubborn to forgive and forget. I think the old man tried to make peace a couple of times, but Eric didn’t come back.”
“That’s really sad,” she said.
“What about your family?”
“Mom’s in San Francisco,” Kate said. “Dad’s not. Not sure where he is.”
“Think your mom’s safe there?” Kyle asked.
“I hope so,” she said. “We don’t have the same last name. She’s been in and out of trouble for years. For all I know she’s in jail again.”
“What kind of trouble?”
“Drugs, mostly,” Kate said, “and bad choice in men. Hope that doesn’t bother you too much.”
“Why would it?” Kyle said, putting his hand on her leg. “I’m a good judge of character. You’re a good woman.”
“Hope you still think that after living with me for a few weeks,” she said. “I can be hard on relationships.”
“I’m not worried about it. Here’s Hwy 87,” Kyle watched Jason make the turn and followed. The road was deserted, shadows getting longer as the dusk approached.
“We gonna get there before dark?” Kate asked.
“Probably not, but no problem. It’s usually dark when we get there.”
“Why, what do you do there?”
“Hunt boar,” he said.
She chuckled. “Oh, my God, I’ve got myself a good ole boy.”
Kyle coaxed her to move closer.
“Oh, all right,” she said, sliding next to him. “We in High School again?”
They settled against each other as the hill country scenery flew by them.
Chapter 15 – Back on Patrol
“Hello, baby,” Juan Carlos said as he climbed onto their patrol boat. Brendan followed him aboard, kissing his hand and slapping the new outboard sitting on the transom.
“We got to break her in?” Brendan asked.
“Nah, it’s not a brand new motor. We’re good. Untie the bow, okay?” He started the three engines. They settled into a raspy purr.
Brendan got on the long bow of the boat to reach the chocks. He pulled the doc lines off, turning to give the thumbs up. Juan Carlos backed out and turned the boat towards the opening of the harbor, cutting through the glassy water.
“Look, there’s two other patrol boats over there,” Juan Carlos said. “Lieutenant Frazier wasn’t kidding. Texas is stepping it up.”
“Don’t mess with Texas,” Brendan said, laughing.
“Dude, this ain’t about littering.” He laughed and shook his head. The radio blipped, and he picked up the microphone. “Hey, boss. Over.”
“That’s Lieutenant,” Frazier said. “Over.” Juan Carlos grinned at Brendan as he approached.
“Sorry, Lieutenant,” Juan Carlos said. “Where we going today? Over.”
“Rio Salado,” he said. “Over.”
“That’s Mexico,” Brendan said.
“Yeah, man,” Juan Carlos said. “They’ll snag us. Over.”
“They asked for help,” Lieutenant said. “Big group of Venezuelans floating just offshore. Another damn ferry. Over.”
“What the hell is going on, man?” Juan Carlos asked. “Over.”
“I don’t know, but the Feds are gonna be involved again, so it’s gone up the chain. Over.”
“More Apaches tonight, eh?” Brendan said. “We attacking or just keeping them from getting away?”
“You’ll have to play that by ear,” Lieutenant Frazier said. “I’ve seen recon pictures of the ferry. They added some armor, so you guys might not be able to punch through so easy. Over.”
“Any other boats going? Over.”
“Yeah, number thirty-two. Over.”
“Shit,” Juan Carlos said. “Jackson’s afraid to fight. You know that, right? Over.”
“He’s got Chauncey with him,” Lieutenant Frazier said. “Over.”
“Chauncey’s a Lieutenant,” Brendan said. “What’s the deal?”
“I’m going out tonight too,” Lieutenant Frazier said. “But not to Rio Salado. Over.”
“Where you goin?” Juan Carlos asked. “Over.”
“Arroyo Coyotes. Over.”
“We’ve got problems there too?” Brendan asked.
“It’s worse than where you’re going,” he said. “We’re taking four boats. Over.”
“Why the brass, dude?” Juan Carlos asked. “Over.”
“Sorry, can’t tell you details. Over.”
Brendan and Juan Carlos shot each other a glance, silent for a moment.
“You guys okay?” Lieutenant Frazier asked. “Over.”
“Yeah, we’re good,” Brendan said. He looked at Juan Carlos.
“We’re good, Lieutenant. Over.”
“Good. Watch your backs. Don’t let them shoot up your engines again. Keep the bow towards them. Over.”
“You can count on that,” Juan Carlos said. “Over.”
“I know I can. Talk to you later. Over and Out.”
Brendan took a deep breath as Juan Carlos put the mic back on the holder.
“Jackson? He’s a dweeb,” Brendan said.
“Chauncey’s not, so don’t worry. I got trained by him. He’s a bad ass.”
“Hope so,” Brendan said. “It’s gonna be a long night.”
“You get enough sleep?�
�
“Yeah,” Brendan said. “You?”
“I did okay,” he said. “Check the guns, okay? Make sure they’re both ready to go.”
Brendan nodded and checked the starboard gun, then the port gun. Both were fully loaded. He went into the hold and got more .50 cal ammo, stashing some under each gun.
“We got enough down there?” Juan Carlos asked.
“I think so,” he said. “Wonder how good their armor is?”
“Probably make-shift garbage.”
“Hope so,” Brendan said. “Wish these were inboards. Damn outboards stick out like a sore thumb.”
“I know, dude,” Juan Carlos said. “Maybe they ought to come up with armor-plated motors.”
“They thought about that,” Brendan said. “I read some of the meeting minutes from design reviews when I was in training.”
“What was the problem?”
“Too heavy,” he said. “Added too much weight. They could reduce to two engines, but we lose speed.”
“Well, these really weren’t designed for battle,” Juan Carlos said.
“Yeah, not against somebody who can fight back, anyway,” Brendan said. “They’re just meant to chase and intimidate.”
“They do that pretty well. Ain’t no substitute for these big guns.”
“You got that right, bro,” Brendan said. “How long till we get there?”
“Forty minutes, give or take,” he said. “Relax for a while. I need you sharp when we get there.”
“Can’t,” Brendan said.
“Well try anyway, dude,” Juan Carlos said.
“Okay, okay.” Brendan sat on the padded bench near the captain’s chair. “Wonder why they don’t just throw some Kevlar over those outboards?”
“That’s not a bad idea,” Juan Carlos said. “Kevlar ain’t heavy.”
“Let’s bring it up,” Brendan said. “You hear that?”
“Yeah, it’s Chauncey and Jackson,” Juan Carlos said. “Coming up on the starboard side. Good to have them with us.”
“I hope so,” Brendan said.
Soon the other boat was alongside them, Jackson waving from the port side gun. The two boats cut through the smooth water of the lake as the sun was coming down.
Chapter 16 – Raylene’s
Eric was still crying as he drove towards his RV Park. The radio in the old Bronco was on. He heard the news about Texas, but that wasn’t all. There was disturbing news about South Florida and the Southern California border too. Something was going on. He was pretty worked up as he got off the highway. Raylene’s Bar and Grill beckoned him, so he drove into one of the parking spaces in front.
“Eric, kinda early to see you,” the bartender said. She was an attractive woman in her early fifties, with ash brown hair cut short, five earrings in each of her ears, and an angel’s wing tattoo on her chest, just above her scoop necked t-shirt.
“Looking good, Molly,” Eric said as he took a seat. “Can you turn the news on?”
She smiled. “Sure, no games on right now. You still don’t have a friggin TV, do ya?”
“No,” he said. “Oh, and how about an IPA?”
“You got it,” she said, turning the TV to CNN and drawing his beer. She slid it to him. “Where’s Paco?”
“Haven’t been home yet,” he said. “Can’t stay too long. He needs to go out.”
“Ah, yes. The responsibilities of a family man.”
Eric looked down, tears forming around his eyes.
“Oh, honey, what’s wrong?”
“My parents died today,” he said, trying to keep from sobbing. He took a big drink of his beer.
“Oh, no. Accident?” Molly asked, coming around the bar and putting her arm around his shoulder.
“Murder,” he said, not looking at her.
“Murder! Oh my God,” she said, holding him as he broke down.
“Copping a feel from Molly? Really?” a woman asked as she breezed in the door. She was a beautiful redhead with freckles and a slim build. “Oh, shit, are you crying?”
“His parents got murdered today, Kim,” Molly said softly.
“No!” she said, getting on the stool next to them. “I’m so sorry, Eric.”
He sat with his head down on the bar, crying out loud, both Kim and Molly comforting him.
“Hey, look at that!” said another patron, sitting a few seats down. Molly looked at him, and he pointed to the TV over the bar. “Turn that up.”
Molly went back behind the bar, finding the remote and turning up the TV. There were pictures of a gun battle going on in a downtown area, with Islamists shooting at police and others at the scene. The announcer started talking.
“This is the scene from Austin, Texas just minutes ago. A demonstration and counter demonstration turned violent when a large group of Islamists flooded the area, shooting at police and then turning their guns on demonstrators in the immediate area.”
“I knew it,” the patron said, taking a swig of beer and watching, eyes hard.
“This violence comes just days after an attack at a shopping center in Dripping Springs, Texas, and subsequent attacks and counter-attacks by Islamists, police, and citizens.”
Eric raised his head and focused on the TV. “Shit, this is what my brother was talking about,” he said.
“Your brother?” Kim asked. “The cop?”
“Yeah. That’s what led to the murder of my parents,” he said. “Jason and his partner showed up at the first attack in Dripping Springs and helped kill the bad guys. The Islamists tried to kill him and his family at home later. Jason killed them instead, but they figured out where our parents were and killed them both.”
“Oh, my God,” Molly said. “Is your brother okay?”
“He took off with his family and partner,” Eric said. “They’re in hiding for the moment, although knowing him, he won’t be hiding for long. I know how he is when he gets pissed off.”
“Geez,” Kim said. “What are you gonna do?”
“Go home to Texas,” he said. “Another beer, Molly?”
“You sure, sweetie?” Molly asked
“Yeah, just one. Then I gotta get ready to leave.”
Molly slid him a beer and he took a big chug, looking at Kim as she watched him.
“What?” he asked.
“I’m just worried,” she said. “How come you haven’t called? I thought we had something nice, but the last few weeks you’ve been avoiding me.”
“I had somebody after me,” he said. “Mobster working for a crooked lawyer. I’m not the best guy to hang out with around here, you know.”
“I always feel safe with you, Eric,” she said, brushing his hair out of his eyes.
“That fight is still going on,” the patron said. The TV station was showing live video. The police were lining up and fighting, but being picked off as more and more Islamists entered the area, several holding black flags with the white Islamist insignia.
“Those idiots,” Eric said. “In Texas, that’s like waving a red cloth in front of a bull.”
Suddenly several old pickup trucks flew into the range of the camera, men in back firing as quickly as they could, scattering the Islamists, who broke into a run.
“Thank God for rednecks!” the patron shouted.
“Keep it down,” Molly said.
“Holly shit, that looks like a war zone,” Kim said, watching it, then looking at Eric. “You’re really going there?”
“Have to,” he said.
“Why?”
“To settle my parent’s affairs, and to get me some.”
“That’s the spirit!” the patron yelled.
“You two need to cool your jets,” Molly said.
The TV switched to a rural scene. A ranch house with a barn behind it.
“This just in. The parents of one of the Austin Police Officers involved in the Dripping Springs Superstore attack have been brutally beheaded at their home outside of Fredericksburg.”
Eric trembled wi
th rage.
“Oh, no, that’s your parent’s place?” Kim asked, horrified.
Eric started crying again, and he pounded the bar hard with his fists.
“Your brother didn’t tell you how bad it was, did he?” Molly asked softly.
“No,” Eric said. “Probably just as well.”
“Oh, Eric, I’m so sorry,” Kim said, hugging him.
“I’d better go,” Eric said. “I need to pack up and get on the road.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t go to Texas,” Kim said. “They might come after you too.”
“I’m counting on it,” he said. “Like I said, I’m gonna get me some. They messed with the wrong family.” He tossed some money on the bar and got up. “Keep the change, honey.”
Molly picked it up. “This is too much.”
“No it’s not,” Eric said. “I might not see you again. You’ve always been good to me, Molly.” He leaned over the bar and kissed her cheek, then turned and headed for the door.
Kim watched him. Molly got her attention and nodded towards him.
“He shouldn’t be alone,” she whispered.
“He’ll just make me leave,” she said, getting off her bar stool.
“So, tell him tough shit,” she said. “He likes you. I can tell by the way he looks at you. And we both know how you feel about him. Gonna let him waltz right outta your life?”
She sighed. “Okay.” She got up and reached into her purse.
“Forget it, honey,” Molly said. “I’ll take it out of the hundred bucks he just gave me.”
Kim nodded and left, catching up to him in the parking lot. He climbed in the driver’s side. She jumped into the passenger side.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“I’m gonna keep you company for a while. Help you pack.”
“You don’t have to do that, Kim.”
“I know,” she said. “Drive.”
Eric shrugged his shoulders and backed out, heading down the street to the RV Park.
Chapter 17 – Streets of Austin
Kelly joined his friends, standing about two blocks down from the Texas State Capitol building, staring at its ornate façade. “Lot of help you idiots have been,” he shouted in that direction.