In the midst of the chaos, she heard the distinctive pop of a gunshot from somewhere nearby. Kenny took a step backward, his mouth hanging open. Blood gushed from a wound on his neck as he fell backward. When he hit the ground, the gun dropped from his grasp and fell into the grass. Jodi immediately let go of Andy’s face and dropped to her knees, digging into the grass until she felt cold metal.
Once she had the gun, she rose and ran back to the truck. Andy was moving behind her, but she didn’t bother to look at him. When she reached the truck, Mike opened the door and slid over to make room for her. She sat down beside him and pulled the door shut, signaling for Owen to take off. He put the truck into gear and pulled away in a cloud of gravel. Only then did Jodi dare a last glimpse at her attackers. Kenny lay on his back in the high grass, a mere lump fading into the distance. Andy had run back toward the Camry, but she lost sight of him as Owen drove away.
She felt sick to her stomach, both from the sharp pain in her arm and from the sudden turn of events. On top of that, all of her nerves were on edge. This made for a potent combination, and she found she couldn’t stop shaking. Rocking back and forth in her seat didn’t help, so after a few miles, she turned to Owen and waved at him.
“Pull over,” she said. “Quick.”
“Are you okay, Mom?”
“Just pull over,” she said.
Owen found an open spot just off the road and pulled the truck in. Jodi threw open her door and stepped outside, bent over and gasping for breath. Mike got out beside her and put a hand on her back.
“Take it easy, Jodi. You’re fine.” He rarely used her name. “Here, give me that guy’s gun.”
She realized she was still clutching the gun, and she passed it to Mike. He took it from her weak grasp.
“Just give me a minute,” she said, struggling to catch her breath.
She heard Mike fiddling with the gun, and after a moment, he burst out laughing. “Oh, man, this is a pellet gun. It’s got a CO2 cartridge in the handle. Those guys were rank amateurs.”
He held up a small silver cartridge. Though he seemed to find this hilarious, Jodi didn’t see the humor in it. In fact, she felt like vomiting. Mike had just potentially killed someone. Even if it had been necessary, how could anything about it be funny?
“What?” Mike said, seeing the look on Jodi’s face. “They tried to steal our truck with a fake gun, and they paid the price for it. I won’t feel bad for protecting us, not after all the weirdos we’ve run into in the last few days.” He jammed the CO2 cartridge back into the handle of the gun.
“We can go now,” Jodi said. “I just needed a moment to collect myself.”
“Promise me and the kid you won’t get out of the truck again,” Mike said, as he gave her a hard look. “Not unless we all agree to it.”
“I promise,” she said.
“You can’t believe every sad sack who comes along with a sob story, Sis. From now on, we err on the side of caution every single time.”
“I know. You’re right. This guy, he was really good at faking fear, but I won’t fall for it again.”
This seemed to satisfy Mike, and he climbed back into the truck, dumping the pellet gun on the floorboard. Jodi slid in beside him and shut the door, taking a long shaky breath.
“Let’s get away from here,” she said.
Owen put the truck into gear and pulled away.
2
For the first time in her life, Beth felt genuinely happy that two people had died. She kept playing it over in her head, the sound of gunshots in the night, the sudden cries of Greg and Travis Eddies as they died, one after the other. Even when she tried to take her mind off it, the sounds and images kept coming back to her. She saw her son-in-law, Shane, dragging the body across the living room. Despite their deaths—despite the fact they’d gotten what they deserved—she still felt a white-hot anger at being held captive by them. They’d been needlessly cruel, even when she’d tried to be generous, and she had the bruises to prove it. More than that, they had terrorized poor little Kaylee and her Schnauzer, Bauer. All for what? A bit of free food.
Some people are trash, she thought, and they deserve to be put down like rabid animals. That attitude would have been unthinkable to her even a week ago.
At the moment, she was bent over the bed in the guest room, a cup of water in one hand and a clean rag in the other. Sheriff Cooley was sprawled under a thin sheet, a bandage covering most of his left temple and cheek. What they’d done to him was far worse, and Beth felt responsible for it. She’d been the one to send him to check on Greg and Travis.
She dipped the rag into the water. The poor man hadn’t stirred, so he’d had nothing to eat or drink in at least a day. Trying to get him to drink had been a disaster. The water had poured down his cheeks and neck, soaking into the pillow. Now, she’d settled on plan B. She took the wet rag and ran it across his dry and cracked lips. Then she worked the corner between his lips and ran it along his gums.
As she did this, his eyelids fluttered. Startled, Beth pulled the rag away and set the cup on the nightstand. The sheriff opened his eyes, but they rolled about for a moment, as if unable to focus on anything. Finally, they found her face and fixed on her, a confused look on his face. He opened his mouth, as if to say something, then shook his head and shut his mouth instead.
“James,” Beth said, “do you remember anything?”
He blinked a few times, as if trying to clear his vision. Then he gazed at the ceiling, furrowing his brow.
“Somebody was shouting,” he said, his voice little more than a rasp. “No…wait. Those two guys. Did you call me on the cell phone? I think I smelled a funny smell, and then the stars were sort of spinning around. I don’t know. Everything is jumbled in my head.”
“I did call you, yes,” she replied. “I should have warned you about those two.”
He tried to sit up but couldn’t quite manage it. Then he coughed, patting his chest. “Have you got anything to drink? A shot of Johnnie Walker would be best, but I’ll take water if that’s all you’ve got. My throat is like sandpaper.”
“I don’t keep any hard liquor in the house,” she said, “but there’s plenty of clean, bottled water. It’s better for you than whiskey anyway, especially in your condition.”
“I don’t know,” he said. “Anything to dull the pain in my head.”
She propped his head up and pressed the cup to his lips. He managed to sip a little, but the water quickly spilled from his mouth. She wiped his chin with the dry end of the rag and lowered his head onto the pillow.
“It’s coming back to me now,” he said. He reached up and touched the bandage on the side of his head. “Those two boys met me at the door and tried to play nice, but I could tell something was up. They were all cagey, didn’t want to answer my questions. When I asked to check on their grandma, they let me in the house. I could tell they’d been rifling through her drawers and cabinets. They’d made a mess of the place, but when I saw the dead body in the back bedroom…well, I should have drawn my gun on them right away. Instead, I demanded evidence that they were really related to her. That’s when they attacked me.”
“I never should have asked you to go over there,” Beth said. “I put you in danger, James, and I’m sorry about that. Something told me those boys were up to no good.”
“Well, it is sort of my job, you know.” He gave her a wink. “Still, they got the jump on me, and that’s my own damn fault. I never saw it coming. The one in the jacket snuck around behind me while I was grilling the other one, and he smacked me hard in the head with some heavy object. One hit and I was down for the count.”
“How bad does it hurt?”
He touched the bandage again. “Hurts like hell. Feels like he just about split my skull in two. What did he hit me with?”
“I’m not sure,” Beth said.
“Feels like they tried to drive a railroad spike into my brain,” he said.
“I can get you some Advil, if you
want.”
“Maybe in a minute,” he replied. “I can’t believe they left her dead body lying there in the open. They didn’t try to bury her, didn’t even cover her up. The presence of her corpse in the house didn’t seem to bother them one bit. What kind of grandsons behave that way? Couldn’t they have shown the least bit of respect for their own grandmother?”
“Well, they were worse than you know,” Beth said. “They broke into my house in the middle of the night and took me captive.”
He gave her a sudden cold look. “Where are they?”
“Oh, they’re rotting by now,” she replied. She enjoyed saying it. That low sense of satisfaction filled her like a sudden intake of cool air. “My son-in-law and his friend snuck in through the back door and shot them. It was a better death than they deserved, if you ask me. I wouldn’t have minded tying them to a fence post out back and flogging them for a while first.”
“I should have been there. I should have protected you.” James tried to sit up again. “Help me up. I need to get back to work.” He swooned, his eyes rolling back, and fell onto the bed again.
“James, you can’t get out of bed,” Beth said. “Not like this.”
“I have to return to duty,” he said. “People still need a sheriff in this town—more than ever, in fact. There’ll be a lot more troublemakers like the Eddies out there. I was already running from house to house when you called me.”
He gritted his teeth and clamped his eyes shut, as if building up his strength. Then, suddenly, with a loud cry, he sat up, flinging his sheet aside. When he tried to stand up and get out of bed, he wobbled, and his knees buckled. He would have fallen forward onto the floor, but Beth planted a hand against his chest and gently forced him back onto the bed.
“Don’t be silly,” she said. “If you try to go back to work in your present condition, you’ll wind up in the hospital, if not the mortuary. You need time to recover, and that’s all there is to it. There’s a very good chance you suffered a serious concussion.” She pulled the sheet back over him and tucked it in place. “The best help you can be to the community is to rest up and get better first.”
“If you insist, Beth.” He gave her a weak smile. “You know I can’t bring myself to argue with you.”
“That’s good to know,” she said, “but the next time I ask you to pay a visit to some creeps, feel free to argue about it.”
“I’m just sorry they got the drop on me. I could’ve saved you a lot of trouble if I’d just arrested those two right away.”
The bedroom door opened then, and Corbin stepped through. Shane’s young friend was an odd one. He’d helped saved the day, but Beth still wasn’t sure what to make of him. The young man had a hard edge to him, and some kind of buried pain, but she didn’t want to pry. He was carrying a plastic tray with a steaming blue bowl of chicken soup, and next to it sat one of the cooked steaks, cut into bite-size pieces, along with some fresh veggies. He’d also poured the sheriff a big plastic tumbler of orange juice.
“Shane said he needs to eat a good meal if he’s awake,” Corbin said. “Says it’ll help him feel better. He made all of this.”
Smelling the food seemed to rouse the sheriff, and he immediately struggled to sit up. “Oh, man, I feel like I haven’t eaten in weeks. That smells amazing. Is that steak?”
Beth stacked a couple of pillows behind him to help him sit upright, and Corbin placed the tray on his lap.
“Don’t overdo it,” she said. “You’ll make yourself sick.”
“It might be worth it,” he replied, picking up the soup spoon. “The last thing I ate was a stale danish from a gas station. I knew it was trouble when I had to wipe dust off the package, but I bought the darn thing anyway.”
“You’re starting to make me question your judgment,” Beth said with a smile. “Now, listen, I’ll leave you to your meal. I’ve got some business to attend to. Someone will come get the tray when you’re done. Just knock on the wall or something if you need help.”
As she moved to the door, he called her name. She looked at him over her shoulder.
“Thanks,” he said. “For the company. For the help.”
“Well, thank you for coming when I called,” she replied. “Even if it put you in danger.”
She slipped past Corbin. As she moved down the hall, she noted the hastily repaired hole in the ceiling near the foyer. A shotgun blast from one of the creeps. Shane had covered it with a piece of plywood from the garage. A second smaller hole in the ceiling in the living room had been covered with duct tape. The debris had been swept up, and the bloodstains on the carpet had been thoroughly scrubbed, leaving obvious clean patches surrounded by older, darker carpet. The bottom panel of the window above the kitchen sink had also been shattered. It was the way the Eddies had entered the house. A pillowcase had been duct-taped in place of the broken glass.
The biggest scar from the showdown with Greg and Travis Eddies was the shattered glass in the sliding glass window. It had been shot out during the confrontation. Beth had covered this with cardboard, but she hated the way it made the dining room dimmer. With no electricity, open windows had become more important for providing interior light.
Another reason to be glad those creeps were dead. Beth felt the dark satisfaction welling up inside her again, and she pushed it away, focusing instead on the sounds of her family from the backyard. She opened the sliding door, careful not to put any pressure against the cardboard. Kaylee was running around the edge of the garden with Bauer, the little dog barking joyfully. Shane and Violet were standing off to one side, and they appeared to be chatting. Violet’s guide dog, Ruby, the big friendly black lab, watched Bauer with what Beth thought was a jealous look, but she didn’t leave her owner’s side.
Beth approached Shane, who gave her a questioning look.
“Shane, would you be willing to head into town and see if Dr. Howard is in his office?” she asked. “He’s got the closest clinic to my house. You can find his address on my contact list beside the phone. I’m a little concerned about the extent of James’s brain trauma. He woke up awfully confused.”
“Sure, no problem,” Shane replied.
As he started to move, Violet grabbed his sleeve.
“Dad, can I come?”
“No, I don’t think so,” he said. “I’d rather you stay here. It’s safer. Don’t worry. I’m armed and ready for any trouble.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, I’m sure. I won’t be gone long.”
Violet frowned but accepted his answer, and Shane trotted back to the house. Beth gave Violet a quick hug.
“I don’t think it’s safe going into town,” Violet said. “People probably shouldn’t go alone. There’s probably a lot of looters everywhere.”
“It’s not that bad yet,” Beth said. “Not in our little community anyway. Look, we still need the help of doctors and mechanics and others. Skilled people still have a place in the world, you know.”
“I guess you’re right.” Violet scuffed her shoe in the grass.
After a moment, she heard Shane’s Volkswagen van backing out of the driveway, and soon he was headed down the road. Once he’d gone, Beth strolled through the garden. She’d picked clean everything that was ripe, canning as much of it as she could, but she took a few minutes to double-check. Kaylee and Bauer had settled down near the fence, the six-year-old telling silly stories to the dog. Violet finally wandered back to the porch and sat down in a folding chair near the propane grill, Ruby curling up at her feet.
Shane wasn’t gone long. After maybe fifteen minutes, the van came rumbling down the street again and pulled into the driveway. Beth went back inside the house to meet him, just as he came through the front door. As he stepped into the foyer, he shook his head.
“No luck,” he said. “The doctor’s office was locked up tight. I looked in the windows, but I didn’t see anyone inside.”
“Well, that’s a shame,” Beth said. “His clinic is so close. I als
o see Dr. Yates sometimes, but he’s all the way on the south side of Macon.”
“I left a note and asked him to pay us a visit if he gets a chance.” Shane shut the front door and locked it. “No idea if he’ll see it or not. I jammed it in the crack of the door, so hopefully it won’t fall out.”
“I know Dr. Howard has a family cabin near Piedmont,” Beth said. “He may have fled town with his wife and kids, which means no local doctor.”
“How’s our sheriff doing?” Shane asked.
“James is awake,” Beth said. “That’s a good sign, but he’s in a lot of pain. He was a little incoherent at first. Let’s hope there aren’t any complications. He was unconscious for hours.”
“We’ll keep a close eye on him,” Shane said, moving into the living room. “Actually, there’s something else we need to talk about.”
He glanced out the back door, watching Kaylee for a few seconds before turning to Beth with a somber look on his face. She knew what he was going to say. It had been on her mind as well.
“Protecting ourselves,” she said. “That’s what you want to talk about, isn’t it?”
Shane nodded. “Yeah, specifically, I think we need to shore up any weak spots around the house and make it a more defensible location. I want to discourage burglars.”
“I can help,” Corbin said, appearing at the end of the hallway carrying James’s food tray. “I’ve done some building with my dad, and we were learning basic construction skills at the juvenile camp.”
“Great, I could use the help,” Shane said. “Beth, what do you think?”
“We ought to reinforce the windows and doors,” she said. “Strengthen the fence, maybe top it with something to keep people from climbing over. Those seem like priorities.”
“I agree,” Shane said. “Let’s go tell the other kids what we’re doing.”
He moved to the back door, and Beth hurried after him. As soon as they stepped outside, she glanced over her shoulder to see where Corbin was. The young man headed into the kitchen.
Surviving The End (Book 2): Fallen World Page 2