Whiskey Thief

by Chris Bostic

“Looks like you’re doing fine,” my fiancé said. He extended a hand to the big guy. “I’m Pete.”

  “Mike,” he replied, then nodded to the girl. “This is June.”

  I whistled out loud. “Ooh, so close.”

  Mike raised an eyebrow. “Say what?”

  “I had her pegged for a Jane.”

  Pete shot me a look intent on cutting me off before I could say more. Then he decided to introduce me like I couldn’t do it myself.

  “This is Grace.”

  “Not what I would have guessed,” June replied.

  “Touché.” I held up a fist for her to bump, and she looked at me like I had two heads. “That’s cool.” I dropped my fist and turned around to see Vic and Vince finally emerge from the tree.

  “As long as we’re doing introductions, here’s the rest of the crew.” I stepped aside to wave my arm. “I present to you Vince and Vic. I’ll let you decide who’s who.”

  “I think I got it,” June said while seemingly pretending to scratch her chin, deep in thought. “But, Vic? Really?”

  “Better than Tori.” My friend brushed herself off. “I can’t stand that.”

  “Tori is for sucks,” I added.

  June nodded. “I knew a couple. They could suck it alright, if you know what I mean.”

  “I think I got it,” Vic said with a frown.

  “So now what?” Miner Mike asked. “I ain’t seen any sign of life ‘round here.”

  “How far was that old distillery?” Pete asked. “I swear we’ve gone a mile by now.”

  “Then it can’t be much farther.” Mike looked at the creek, and I followed his gaze. The water level appeared to be rising, though it was hard to tell with the wind still whipping.

  “There’s nowhere else to go,” Pete said. “Let’s just keep going uphill. We’ve gotta find something eventually.”

  That was my man; ever the optimist.

  “There’s no way we’ll make it to the second one,” Mike said. “The one with the castle.”

  Pete agreed. I certainly didn’t argue the point.

  “Sooner we get out the better if the creek is rising,” I noted. “I’ll lead.”

  With renewed purpose, I strode off into the shallows. There was just one problem. The ripples from raindrops and the breeze made it hard to see through the water, not that I could have very well anyway with its natural greenish, muddy texture.

  So come to find out it wasn’t all that shallow. I hadn’t gone a half dozen steps before I planted a foot in a hidden scour hole and instantly sank to my waist.

  As I blubbered some creative curses, June covered her mouth and failed at hiding a chuckle.

  “What’s so funny?” I said.

  “Now I get it.” She doubled over. “Grace-ful.”

  “That’s my girl,” Pete quipped. “She’s full of grace.”

  I was going to tell him that he was full of something else, but settled for shooting him my iciest stare. He backed off, leaving June standing there watching me squirm around the hole trying to find a foothold.

  She stood there a little too long, raising my ire. As my efforts turned more toward futility, I finally reached out to her. “Give me a hand?”

  June turned away from the others, and went to a knee in front of me, whispering, “I’m not supposed to lift anything that heavy.”

  “That heavy?” My eyes narrowed to slits. “What you trying to say?”

  “Just…” She paused uncomfortably, then turned to look at Mike. Turning back, she whispered, “Just don’t yank too hard, okay?”

  I pulled my arm back. “Before I hurt you or whatever, mind telling me what that’s all about?”

  She leaned closer. “I’m pregnant.” She pointed with her head toward Mike. “He doesn’t know yet, and I’d rather keep it that way.”

  “Oh.” I glanced at her wet shirt and didn’t notice much sign showing in her midsection. At least she had that going for her, for a while. “Your secret is safe with me. I reckon this has been stressful enough.”

  I looked to Pete to see if he was close enough to help, but he’d gone over to help prop up Vince. It was a good thing the flask was empty, or the big guy might have already passed out on us.

  “Here,” June said. “C’mon.”

  I did the best I could to climb out without pulling on her too much. Once I was free, I don’t know what came over me, but I gave her a hug.

  “Thanks,” she said. “I needed that.”

  “Just tell me if you need anything. Whatever, whenever.” I sure didn’t need to get involved with any more drama, but it was clearly the right thing to do in the moment. We all needed to lean on each other.

  “I need to rest,” June said with a whimper. “It’s been okay so far, you know? We haven’t been going very fast.”

  “But we’ve been going. A long time.” I dug deep to offer her my most sympathetic smile. “Maybe the guys can run on ahead…maybe figure out where exactly we’re going.” I looked back over at Pete and had to hedge my bets. “Or maybe not. Looks like they’ve got problems of their own.”

  Vince sat cross-legged in the creek, the water swirling around him at belt height. Vic looked ready to bite his head off, but he didn’t have a care in the world. His head lolled from side to side, and he appeared to be having a conversation with himself while Pete and Mike tried to convince him to stand up.

  “That’s exactly what we needed,” I muttered.

  June must have misheard me, since she replied, “All I need is a drink. I’m so thirsty.”

  “And I’m sure you’re supposed to stay hydrated,” I replied. “That’s why you were wanting the water earlier.”

  She nodded. “I mean I’ll be okay….”

  For a while. That seemed to be the phrase of the day. All the clichés: just a little farther, can’t get any worse, keep your head up.

  While I tried out different motivational phrases in my head, Vic stomped over toward us.

  “I can’t believe this,” she muttered. “What a dumbass.”

  “Vince is gonna need some water too,” I told June. “He’s gonna have a helluva headache tomorrow.”

  “He might have one in a minute if he doesn’t get his ass up,” Vic growled, no longer sounding like the preacher’s daughter. “He’s stupid drunk at a really stupid time.”

  “Pete will get him goin’,” I said, though I wasn’t totally convinced. He hadn’t so far with Mike’s help. To think I’d gone from thinking about someone having to carry June to someone carrying Vince. That would be no small feat.

  “We’re all tired,” I said with a sigh. “Maybe we take a break and let him sleep it off?”

  Vic’s hands went to her hips. “I can’t even believe you would say that. Now? Where?”

  “I dunno. It’s almost done raining though.”

  The breeze had slackened, leaving a quiet forest interrupted by the splat of occasional rain drops.

  June turned her head to look over her shoulder, bringing her mouth close to my ear. She whispered, “Don’t do that for me. I’ll be fine.”

  “It’s more for him.”

  Vic’s eyes narrowed. “What’s up with you two? New best buds scheming over here, telling little secrets?”

  I bristled but managed to keep my tongue in check. “It’s nothing.” When Vic continued to glare at me, I added, “June was just saying she needed water, which obviously we don’t have here.”

  “Obviously,” Vic deadpanned, “besides a river full of muddy, nasty-”

  “Ooh, an idea.” I interrupted. “No, not the river water,” I added, reading the confusion on Vic’s face. I turned to June. “You could suck it out of your shirt though.”

  “Gross,” Vic said. “That’s your bright idea?”

  While June looked at me weird, I said, “I mean we’re all soaked, and yours is way cleaner than mine. You didn’t roll in the leaves.”

  “Or fall in a hole,” Vic added.

  I let her have that without a punch
back. That was twice. The whole keeping secrets thing must have really had me off my game and into some unfamiliar peacemaker role.

  “I think I’ll pass,” June said. “Sure, I got a shower, but I was in the river a while back.” Her face blanched. “You don’t think that was, uhm, bad…you know?”

  I didn’t know what she meant at first. June looked at her stomach, and I figured it out.

  “I’m sure…it’s, uh, fine,” I said, trying to find a way to not call her child an it, or allude to her pregnancy in front of Vic.

  My best friend looked confused, but didn’t press the issue. Instead, she spun on her heels and stalked back to Vince. While he was still mostly upright and conscious, it didn’t look like he had much longer before the lights went out.

  Speaking of which, the sky darkened again. By this point, I couldn’t tell if the storm was strengthening, or if it really was getting closer to sundown.

  “Surely not,” I muttered under my breath, then spoke up so everyone could hear. “We need to move!” I turned to my new friend. “Sorry, June.”

  “I’m good.”

  “Then I need to go help Vic. She’s got her hands full.”

  “I can relate,” June said, casting a glance at Mike. “Men, huh?”

  “Can’t live with ‘em, can’t…uh, what is it?”

  “Beat ‘em?”

  “Sure. But someone’s gonna have to beat Vince like a rented mule to get him back to his feet.”

  “Tell him there’s bourbon where we’re going,” June suggested. “That might do the trick.”

  Unsurprisingly, that’s exactly what it took to get him moving again.

  CHAPTER 8

  “I see the smokestack!” Pete jumped up and down like a kid. “Right there, through the trees.”

  “Oh, thank God,” Vic said.

  “About fucking time,” I added, drawing a look from both of them. “What? Don’t tell me you weren’t thinking it?”

  “Maybe,” Pete said. “But more importantly, how do we get there?”

  “Good question.” Vic pushed Vince up against a tree along the creek bank so she could move to where she could see.

  I went with her and finally caught sight of the red brick stack poking out of the gray haze. While visible through the trees, it didn’t tower over them. That tempered my enthusiasm.

  “We’re not that close yet,” I noted.

  “Remember the bright side,” Pete chided. “If we can see it, we’re making progress.”

  “It’s something, babe. I’ll give you that.”

  I looked over the rest of our group. June listed to the side like our crippled pontoon. Miner Mike held her up, though he didn’t look so steady himself.

  Vince was in danger of sliding down the tree and not getting back up. Sadly, there was still no real opportunity to rest. Not with the creek continuing to rise, or with the reemerging sound of thunder in the distance.

  A boom echoed through the woods, though more of a muffled, dull thump than a sharp crack. We had time, but not a lot.

  “Let’s get there, guys. We’re burning, uhm,” I looked around the misty haze, “daylight?”

  “Who knows?” Pete said. “It’s good to know we’re at least headed the right way.”

  “Truer words have not been spoken,” Mike interjected. “I was beginnin’ to wonder.”

  The way he twanged the last word made it sound funny, which Pete was quick to jump on, saying, “I was beginning to wander.”

  “Like forty years in the desert.” Vic switched Vince from one shoulder to the other. “Dragging this refugee and the whole flock around.”

  “He’s no Moses,” Pete said with a laugh.

  I kind of lost track of where they were headed at that point, being more of a sinner than a saint. Not that I begrudged Pete or Vic their religion. It’s not like I was totally unfamiliar.

  I could probably sing every hymn or modern worship song, since I’d spent my childhood at Sunday service and Pete loved playing the Christian station on the car radio. Anything was better than Bro Country.

  But I could stand to brush up on my bible studies. It was particularly apparent around those two. The only passage and verse I could describe from memory would be appetizers from the local bar and grill menu, while they quoted scripture on seemingly a daily basis.

  A nagging something made me think they were a better pairing. I wondered if I didn’t deserve someone like Vince. Obviously, Vic wasn’t having any luck reforming that sinner, though she had made it her personal mission.

  I figured I was probably headed the same direction as Vince if it hadn’t been for Pete’s efforts to try to keep the dark clouds at bay. He might not have understood my demons, not many had faced that kind of abandonment, but he tried his best to help me rise above. Lately, it was just my brooding, or my smart mouth and the occasional bad decision, that got me in trouble.

  I looked to say something to him, but he was shoulder to shoulder with Vic pointing up the creek. She smiled like I hadn’t seen in a while. That drove an extra nail into my stomach. A little swell of nausea hit like I hadn’t felt for hours.

  “You okay?” June asked me as she came alongside with Mike.

  “Yeah, of course.”

  Just like that, I was back to my normal self. Introverted. Grumpy. Definitely not outgoing like Pete and Vic.

  “You don’t look it.”

  “Brutally honest, much?”

  “I’m just…” She paused; probably intimidated by my scowl. “Just worried. You look a bit pale.”

  Pot meet kettle seemed like the appropriate response under normal circumstances, but I resolved to not let her get under my skin. She meant no harm, and I probably looked paler than the moon.

  “What are they talking about up there?” Mike asked.

  I shrugged. Probably the bible. Prodigal son returning home, and all that.

  They let us know. Pete waved an arm to urge us forward. “There’s a wall up there. We’re close to the promised land.”

  I groaned inwardly. Leave it to Pete to chime in right when I was being bratty and mocking his religious fervor. Still, it was hard not to be excited about an actual observation of something more than trees and water.

  With renewed vigor, we hiked until we got to a point where we found a pile of rectangular, grimy white rocks lying in the dirt alongside the creek. Farther up a hill, an old stone wall fought against nature. Fallen trees and little landslides pushed gaping holes through the ancient structure.

  “Joshua must have gotten here earlier,” I said, trying to insert myself into their little world.

  “Say what?” Vic raised a sculpted eyebrow. “Joshua?”

  “Most of the wall has already crumbled down,” I explained. “Get it? Jericho?”

  “Nice one. I see what you did there,” Pete replied, but I didn’t quite believe him. It seemed Vic was the only one he was synced up to when it came to Old Testament references.

  The wall continued for quite a distance. The woods eventually opened ahead of us. We stayed in the creek to avoid the brush along the bank, and soon found ourselves at the base of a miniature waterfall.

  A two-tier rock shelf lined the smokestack side of the creek bank. Water spilled over the top rocks from a pool fed by a trio of pipes protruding through the stone wall. The wall was more structurally sound here, and quite formidable. The two tiers together rose at least ten feet above the water.

  A low, single story stone building was immediately behind the wall. Very industrial looking, though more of an industrial revolution artifact than some modern warehouse.

  A taller, dirty gray building sat directly behind the first one. Far to the left, now clear of the trees, the red brick smokestack seemed to stretch to the low clouds.

  “That’s out of place,” I said to no one in particular.

  “What’s that?” Pete asked.

  “Everything’s a dull, lifeless gray. Why the red tower?”

  “Beats me. Airplanes?”


  There weren’t any lights on the stack. Come to think of it, there weren’t any lights anywhere, though it seemed to be approaching the time when we might need them.

  Power cables sagged, stretching from the stone buildings on the left to an even more rundown, metal clad building seemingly connected, but far off to the right. It had a tower of its own, though not rivaling the height of the smokestack.

  By that time, I’d been on enough tours to know my way around a distillery. Even one this decrepit.

  “There’s the still house,” I said, pointing to the eight story, boxy tower, clad in metal like the surrounding buildings.

  “Sure enough,” Pete agreed. “Column still. I wonder if it’s still in there.”

  I get why drunk Vince busted out laughing at that one. For some weird reason, Vic cackled as well.

  I ignored them to wonder if the old still really was in there. Back home, it wasn’t uncommon for copper thieves to run off with any spare scrap of wire or whatever else they could find, even if it meant risking electrocution to pull wires from the streetlights.

  A sixty foot column still would be one heck of a find for copper thieves. I cast the thought aside; we could worry about sightseeing later.

  We stood at the base of the falls finding little else to admire. The classic black fungus from distilled ethanol still clung to the buildings even though this place looked like it hadn’t been used in decades.

  “So how we gettin’ up there?” I asked, seeing no ladders or steps to climb up the wall.

  “Give me a boost,” Vince slurred.

  “You can’t get up there,” Vic chided, which only exacerbated the problem.

  “The hell I can’t.”

  He staggered across the creek to the base of the waterfall. The first tier came up to the top of his head. Water spilled over the side, drenching him, but he didn’t seem to have a care in the world.

  I knew the rocks had to be slick. We’d be lucky to get him away from there without stitches. Maybe another near drowning.

  I nudged Pete. “He’s your buddy. Get him back over here.”

  “Leave him,” Vic said, stopping Pete in his tracks. He looked to me.

  “For fuck’s sake, I’ll do it.”

  I passed them both, carefully watching my step to avoid another drop into a scour hole. As I made my way over, Vince kept trying to get a grip on the rocks. I’ll give him credit for not quitting, but it obviously wasn’t going to work out.