Final Stand

by Helen R. Myers

  “You okay?”

  She didn’t think she would ever be okay again. “We have to get those bodies off the street. Do you think they’ll open the market and let us put them in their cooler?”

  “Without electricity to run the compressor, it won’t do much good, not if this drags on for long.”

  “You have a hardware store across the street. Surely they have a generator?” She turned to the crowd. “Doesn’t anyone have a generator?”

  “Sasha, you need something far more powerful to keep those industrial units operating,” Gray told her.

  The people nearest who could hear reacted in horror. “Did you hear that? She wants to put the bodies in with the food.”

  “You heard what’s going to happen. Your other choice is to watch them turn into roadkill,” Gray snapped. He said to Frank. “What have you got in the station to wrap them?”

  “Blankets. I’ll get some.”

  “Get a bunch of garbage sacks, too, and rope.”

  “Frank.” The man Sasha thought was the politician blocked his way. “You’re taking orders from him?”

  “Why are they doing this?” someone else asked. “If it’s her they want, why can’t we just give her to them?”

  Sasha knew that since her mother’s body’s discovery, news had spread fast and furious about her. She didn’t blame people for being upset, but there were more productive things to do than waste time on petty squabbling.

  Turning to the crowd, she raised her hands, requesting their attention. “I’m Officer Sasha Mills, Las Vegas Police. The man you just heard on the radio is responsible for killing these men and for murdering my mother, so you see, I understand your anguish. As frightening as he seems, he and his people can be stopped. By uniting as a group, together we can show them that there’s no place for their kind of terrorism here.”

  “Why should we risk our necks for you?” an unseen man called out.

  “That’s a fair question, and the truth is I’m not asking for that. But these two deputies here were probably neighbors or family to some of you. Do it for them and each other.”

  Although a few people seemed agreeable, their voices were drowned out by the majority’s resentment. “This isn’t our problem,” was the line she kept hearing. And there was increased mention about loss of property and questions about who would pay for its replacement than concern over lives.

  A gray-haired woman came forward. “We pay your salary, Frank. It’s your job to keep the peace.”

  Just as Sasha recognized her as the librarian, she saw Gerri Rose struggling with her husband at the far edge of the group. With a fierce wrench, the young woman freed herself from her husband’s hold and ran forward.

  “Frank, what do we do if they don’t keep their word and start shooting their way into our homes? I want to stay with you.”

  “Gerri Rose, damn it.” Tim Pike followed her and took hold of her again. “Let’s go home. You’ll be safe there.”

  “And what are you going to protect me with, your TV remote?”

  Slapping away his hands, Gerri Rose wrapped her arms around Frank’s waist and pressed herself closer to him. In that moment, any questions about how far their liaison had gone were put to rest. Although Sasha didn’t know Tim except for his efforts at the fire earlier, she felt a strong spasm of sympathy for his having to endure such a humiliating moment.

  Unfortunately for Gerri Rose, Elias didn’t seem happy with either her timing or her conduct. “Let go. Damn it, what got into you to pull this now? I’ve got work to do,” he snapped.

  He tugged her arms from around him and pushed her so hard she stumbled and would have fallen if it wasn’t for Tim’s quick response.

  “Frank—” she gasped, her pale young face stricken. “I’m here to stay. I want to be with you.”

  “Are you blind as well as stupid? Get lost.”

  “But I have to talk to you. It’s important.”

  Turning his back on her, Elias strode into the station. Sasha watched the pretty blonde’s mouth fall open and then Gerri Rose burst into tears. Looking near tears himself, Tim embraced her as she sagged against him, then lifted her into his arms. Shooting an angry look at Frank’s back, he carried her away.

  A few people seemed to think Pike had the right idea and left, too, but the majority wanted an outlet for their anger and fear. It was soon clear that Sasha was it. They made their demands in no uncertain terms. The fact that she was a peace officer didn’t seem to make any difference, more indication to Sasha that Elias hadn’t cultivated respect for the law around here.

  “I say if the chief won’t resolve this, we should.”

  “Yeah, take her!”

  Reaching into the back of her waistband for her gun, Sasha’s view was suddenly obliterated as Gray stepped before her. He drew his own automatic and chambered a round.

  “Anybody who wants to try that has to come through me.”

  35

  Gray didn’t know if it was his reputation, size or the gun that intimidated, he was just glad it halted the momentum of the crowd before things got out of hand. The danger was far from over, though. While the group backed off a few steps, their unity made them more confident and the mutters and expletives resumed.

  “What’s got into you now, Doc?”

  The question came from Don Sargent, the market’s manager, who had just arrived.

  “For the last couple of years you’ve been acting like you got a bee up your butt one minute and a foot in the grave the next,” the man continued. “Never had the interest to exchange a simple hello. Now you’re gonna tell us what we should and shouldn’t be doing? It appears to me your head’s been turned by her.”

  “It’s Officer Mills to you, Don. And you can stop acting as though she’s to blame for this. The fact is that I am, and so is Frank. But that’s irrelevant at this point. What you need to ask yourself is if turning into the same kind of animals who murdered these men and killed Mrs. Mills is something you want on your conscience. Well, is it, Don? Now listen to what Officer Mills has to say.”

  Sasha tucked her automatic back into her waistband and stepped forward. “I know I’m a stranger to you, and have no right to ask for your understanding, let alone forgiveness for what I’ve brought to your community. Nevertheless, please understand, I tried to avoid this.

  “The men outside Bitters are organized-crime figures, part of the Russian mafia. And because I’m the last person who knows what they’ve done, who can put them behind bars, they want to silence me, too.

  “It’s natural for you to feel fear. I admit,” she said, pressing a hand to her chest, “I am. That’s exactly what they want. Fear to control us, to divide us in order to make their problem easier.”

  “Ain’t no problem if they got what they came for.”

  Gray stared hard at old man Riley from the junk-yard across from the convenience store. Of all the times for the wild-haired recluse to be roused out of his ramshackle hut. The town had been trying to get him off the place for years. It was an eyesore, and for the commercial value of the property so close to the interstate its removal could help turn the economic tide for the town. As a result, Vern Riley saw a conspirator in everyone and offered his allegiance to no one. But what he had to say at the moment was music to a number of ears.

  Sasha met his gaze levelly. “Let me get this straight, you’d aid in the murder of a police officer?”

  “Huh. Ain’t met a cop or lawyer yet that didn’t deserve being put against a wall and shot.” With that, the man spit a wad of tobacco at her. It arced and landed just short of her right shoe. He shuffled away.

  A murmur made its way through the crowd and Gray heard words like “quack” and “crazy hermit.” Sadly, no one appeared offended by the man’s offensive behavior.

  Someone patted his back and he turned to see Shep Connors from the hardware store. He nodded to Sasha and said, “I’m sorry for these men and your loss, ma’am. But I got kids.” Shaking his head, he, too, le
ft for home.

  Mary Crispin, a retired nurse who taught Sunday school and served as a volunteer delivering meals to shut-ins, spoke up from the other side of the crowd. “Are you saved, Officer Mills? I would be proud to pray with you before returning home.”

  “Thank you,” Sasha replied. “But I’m afraid if God hasn’t heard me yet, he’s going to have to allow me to see what I can do to resolve this. It would be best if you go on home now. And all of you people with children,” she added to the crowd, “keep them away from the windows and doors until further notice. Close shutters, blinds, shades and curtains. Don’t light candles or use your flashlights if you don’t have to. That will only draw attention to you. Most importantly, stay off the road.”

  That warning achieved a full-fledged retreat. Watching the anxious and the indignant, Gray wondered how he could be so wrong about people. This was the town where he’d finished growing up. These were people who had been clients of his father’s as well as his. They had attended both of his parents’ funerals, as well as Maureen’s.

  Not one of these people even offered to help move the dead.

  It was Sasha’s expression that cut at him the most. He only caught a glimpse of it before she turned away, but the disappointment and increasing awareness of her vulnerability gripped his heart. “I’m sorry,” he said as she passed him. He never meant an apology more, not even when he’d stood over Maureen’s grave the day of her funeral.

  “Well, the reliable thing about human nature is that it’s predictably unreliable.”

  Yes, her faith had been badly damaged. How did you protect, willingly risk your life, for the very people turning their back on you? Of course, any thought of protection had to be out of the question now. He had a moment of concern, though, when he saw her reach into Elias’s patrol car and bring out the car keys.

  Following, he closed his hand around her wrist. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “Checking to see what’s in the trunk. He’s taking a long time to—Wait. Here he comes.” She dropped the keys onto the seat. “If the cooler idea is a no-go, at least we can get these poor souls off the street and ready for transport once it’s safe for the EMS people to return.”

  The three of them worked fast and in grim silence. Gray experienced a stomach-lurching moment when he turned the first man and recognized him as a friend of Maureen’s who had played on the softball team with her. The other deputy had just had his picture in the county paper with his wife, celebrating their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. Both men were larger than average, and it took the three of them all their strength to transfer the wrapped bodies into the station where they were laid just inside the front door.

  Winded and still visibly shaken, Frank kicked away more of the broken glass to avoid eye contact. He looked as if he wanted to be anywhere but where he was, Gray thought. Eventually gazing through the blown-out front window, he built up the courage to ask, “How long do you think?”

  “I wish I knew,” Sasha replied.

  Although her reply held no negativity, no emotion of any kind save fatigue, Frank didn’t take the answer well.

  “Guess, damn it.”

  Fed up himself, Gray started toward the jerk, but Sasha reached out, staying him. Then she glanced outside, herself, only to turn around and scan the station. It struck Gray that she was trying to remember where the clock was. Finally she checked her watch at the same time he did his. “Dawn’s still, what—two hours away, maybe a little less? I think they’d prefer being able to maneuver with some visibility. I’d say they’ll be here at first light.”

  “They don’t know where to find you.”

  “They knew where to dump them,” she replied, nodding to the deceased.

  “Yesterday a Suburban drove through town. I figure they spotted me leaving here and heading for the clinic. They must have hung back hoping I would make a run for it. Because of you, I didn’t.”

  Frank stiffened. “Hey, don’t blame your mistakes on me.”

  Sasha took a step toward the door, but in a sudden burst of fury, spun around and went after Frank, shoving him against the wall before he could react. “My mistakes? My mistake was to let a gentle woman make decisions she was in no condition to make. My mistake was letting a bully with a badge keep me from getting her out of harm’s way. My mistake—” Stopping as quickly as she’d started, she backed away from him. “Hell, you’re not worth the energy.”

  Gray held the door open for her and fell into step as they returned to his house. They’d gone beyond the end of the station yet hadn’t drawn parallel to the corral and pens when they heard vehicles to their left and saw two cars driving off between the convenience store and café.

  “Where are they going?” she asked, coming to a halt. “I thought…Isn’t that just a dirt driveway?”

  Grimacing because he knew, and because of the choking dust the vehicles were kicking up, he replied, “I should have guessed. It’s a back road. Pretty rough and treacherous in the dark. It eventually links up to another dirt road going out to some of the remote ranches.”

  As he explained, another vehicle started down the road, and then another.

  Escape. Gray saw the hunger for it in Sasha’s eyes as she watched the unorganized and impulsive convoy.

  Expecting some of the same passion she’d displayed with Frank, he was amazed that her only reply was, “It’s just as well, I suppose.”

  She continued into the house, and Gray followed, troubled by her sudden apathy. “What does that mean?”

  She didn’t answer because she was immediately greeted by Jessie, who showed her pleasure by wagging the entire back half of her body. Sasha crouched down and gave her another of those all-encompassing hugs.

  “Sasha.”

  “Poor Miss Mess. I’m afraid you’re going to get even more scared before things are done. Slaughter, you have to do me a favor,” she added, although all her concentration was on the dog. “Take her back to the clinic. Maybe if you shut the door of that room and don’t actually force her into a cage, it’ll be less traumatizing.”

  The gut feeling he was getting was anything but pleasant. “Why?”

  “Hopefully she’ll be safe there.”

  “She’ll be safer in my truck. With us.”

  When she didn’t reply, merely continued stroking the appreciative dog, Gray realized what she intended to do.

  “No way. You can’t seriously be thinking about staying?”

  “There’s nothing to think about. I am.”

  “Bullshit. You don’t know how many are coming.”

  Drawing a deep breath, she rose and glanced toward the picture window, but her gaze was turned inward. “Well, there were two to start, and if Borodin flew in on his corporate jet, it would hold six—he took my mother with him once on a dinner date to L.A.—so I’m figuring…eight. Nine maximum. But hopefully he’s leaving someone behind to guard the plane besides the pilot, who’s contracted and probably not part of the team.”

  “Eight, nine, make it an even dozen already, and undoubtedly coming loaded with enough ordnance to film another Terminator movie, right? And you think those are good odds?”

  “I don’t want to fight with you.”

  “Then get in the truck.” Once again she didn’t bother responding. It infuriated him. “Christ. I can’t believe you had the nerve to make that crack about Little Big Horn.”

  “It’s different for me.”

  “How?”

  “I’m through running.”

  “There’s no shame in being sensible, to live to fight another day.”

  “I’m not leaving my mother.”

  “You’re not. She’s in Sonora.”

  “You know what I mean. It ends here.” As he began to speak again, she touched her fingers to his lips. “Gray, enough. Just get Jessie over there.”

  He went because he didn’t trust himself around her at the moment. Scooping the dog into his arms, he carried her outside. As soon as Jessie realize
d where she was going, she began protesting, yapping for Sasha and squirming like a sixty-pound catfish.

  “You think you’ve got a beef,” he muttered, ready to put the dog down as she wanted and let her fend for herself. Survival of the fittest—wasn’t that what this whole mess was about? However, once inside the clinic, his manner grew more soothing. “I know, I know. Being alone sucks. It’s for your own good, though. Even when I talk sense into her, you don’t want to be in that truck bouncing around. You think your belly ached before…”

  He opened the window to ease the stifling heat that would soon build in there without the air-conditioning and refilled her water bowl. Then he got out because her soft cries were already getting to him.

  They grew louder as he locked up, and tormented him all the way back to the house. Once there, he sensed something else was wrong.

  Sasha wasn’t there. Going first to check in the kitchen, he heard something, not exactly a sob, more like a shudder.

  Following the sound, he entered the guest bedroom and saw her sitting on the edge of the bed, her face buried in her hands. The way she was shaking she looked to be in the midst of her own personal earthquake, but he knew what was happening. She was simply, desperately, trying not to fall apart.

  36

  “Sasha.”

  It wasn’t her intention to let him see her like this. That’s why she’d come back here—that and to get the other clip for her Smith & Wesson. Embarrassed, she immediately turned her back to him, pressing her palms against her eyes to dam the geyser emotion kept trying to push to the surface. To her dismay, Gray wasn’t thwarted by the move.

  Settling on the bed behind her, he swept her onto his lap. “Don’t turn away. Let me hold you.”

  “I’m okay.”

  Nevertheless, she hid her face in the hollow of his shoulder for fear that he would see what a joke that was. All the while, she repeated those two words over and over in her mind. They were a litany she needed to repress the images of the day, and the finality of her future, assured now by the town’s rejection. Rejection might not always be personal, but when you knew of the injustice in it, it stung without discrimination like a razor across the heart.