by Hunt, Jack
Zeke laughed as he took a toke on his joint before he tried the door. It was locked. He rapped his knuckles against a window. “Heath. It’s Zeke.”
There was no answer. The music inside was too loud.
“Who wants to go over the fence?” he asked, pointing to the one around the side.
Dylan shook his head. “Last time I did that, his dog took a chunk out of my ass.”
“Oh that’s an exaggeration,” Zeke said.
“I would show the scar but we have a lady present,” Dylan replied, gesturing to Alicia. She smirked.
“Ah you crybaby, I’ll go over.” Zeke wedged the joint in the corner of his mouth and climbed up the chain-link fence. There was a big sign on the front that stated BEWARE OF DOG. Now there was all manner of stories regarding this dog. Some said it was a huge Bullmastiff that had torn off some guy’s nutsack, others said it was a Doberman. Besides the account Dylan had given, Colby had no idea what was over there.
Zeke dropped down on the other side. He rubbed hands over his clothes and looked around, then raised his arms. “See. Nothing to worry about.” He even shook the chain-link fence a few times and called out, “Hey pup, pup. Come eat some ass.”
He laughed at Dylan and strolled over to the side of the building and tried the door. It was locked. “Maybe we should come back later,” Zeke said, peering through the opaque glass with a hand over his eyes.
What he didn’t see strolling around the corner was a Bullmastiff and a Doberman. Heath didn’t own one, he owned both.
“Zeke. Zeke!” Dylan said, trying his best not to raise his voice.
Zeke was oblivious. “Where the hell is he?” He banged on the door. “Heath. You in there? It’s Zeke.” He groaned. “Man, I can’t see shit through this glass. Maybe…” He turned and that was when he caught sight of the snarling beasts.
“Oh. Shit. Well… hey pups…”
The dogs lifted their gums to reveal razor-sharp teeth, then growled.
Colby had never seen Zeke move as fast as he did. He spun around and bolted for the fence, not looking back for even a second. “Come on. Come on!” Dylan bellowed. He could have beaten an Olympic runner. His boots pounded the ground fast as the dogs took off after him. In a flash he was up the fence and over the other side just as the dogs barreled into the fence, barking furiously.
He landed hard, scrambling back from the fence to the laughter of Dylan.
“See. I told you.” He laughed hard.
Right then the door to the shop swung open, releasing a plume of smoke. A figure emerged, waving a hand in front of his face. Colby squinted. The years had been unkind to Heath. At roughly five foot five, he was wearing a long striped bathrobe. Below that, a pair of white Y-front underpants and workman boots with the laces undone. He wore a thick pair of steampunk goggles and a scarf wrapped around his neck. In one hand was a Magnum 45, and in the other a sawed-off shotgun. Wedged into the corner of his mouth was a mammoth joint. “What the hell is going on out here!?”
He fired a round into the air and his two dogs scattered.
“Heath. It’s Zeke.”
“Zeke? I don’t know any Zeke.”
“Your cousin.”
“Cousin?”
Zeke looked at Colby and he shook his head. The guy was as high as a kite and no doubt he had some other mind-altering substance mixed in with the weed. Why his mother had chosen to leave the rifles with him was a mystery.
“You better get off my property now.”
“It’s Dylan.”
“Dylan?”
“Yeah, remember last month, I dropped by and picked up the vacuum oven.”
“I have no idea what you are talking about.”
Dylan shook his head and brought a hand to his face in dismay. Whatever he was smoking, it was strong. Colby approached the fence and gripped the chain link. “Hey, Heath. Colby here. You remember me?”
“Colby?”
“Yeah.”
“Well shit. Why didn’t you say so?”
Colby looked at his brothers and chuckled.
“Oh right, so you’ve been gone ten years and he remembers you but I was only here last month and he can’t recall.”
Colby laughed.
Heath made his way over and unlocked the gate. “Man, great to see you again. You look every bit like the way you did last month.”
“Last month?”
“Yeah, you came by to pick up a vacuum oven, right?”
Colby laughed again as Dylan shook his head and followed him in.
“His marbles are all over the place today,” Zeke said. His dogs caught sight of Kane and began showing signs of aggression as if they were about to attack when Heath let out a whistle. “Tulip. Rose. Get back to your kennel.”
And like that the dogs turned and disappeared around the corner of the building. Colby had leashed Kane, just in case. He kept a firm grip as Heath led them inside the smoke-filled shop. Almost immediately they began coughing hard.
“Oh, give me a second,” he said, disappearing into the fog.
A moment later a generator began churning, then a high-pitched whirring sound was followed by what sounded like a vacuum. In less than a minute the room cleared, and they were able to breathe.
Heath appeared. “There we go. Now, what can I do for you fellas, and… Skye?” He got this puzzled look. “Man, I must be losing my mind.” He took out the joint and tossed it. “This shit is strong. I swear they had a funeral for you.”
“This isn’t Skye. It’s a friend of mine. Alicia Scott.”
“Oh. What a dead ringer. Gorgeous just like Skye.” He stepped forward and took her hand and kissed the back of it before taking a few steps back. “Pleasure to meet you.”
Alicia smirked.
“Martha said you have the rifles here. That right?” Colby asked.
“Rifles. Gold. Equipment. You name it. I’ve got it. What’s your poison?”
“The rifles and gold. We’re meant to take them out of here. Where are they?”
“Follow me.” Heath led them through a grimy workshop. It was a maze. Products everywhere. The place smelled of grease like a garage. There were wood chips over the ground to soak up oil. Layers of steel were on racks, ready to be chopped, bent, and used to create new machines. Shelves were jam-packed with weathered brown boxes full of mechanical parts.
“Have you seen much trouble in Redway, Heath?” Colby asked.
“Oh, it’s ripe with assholes. Had a couple of fellas a week ago try to break in. I dealt with them.”
“Where are they now?”
“Buried in a shallow grave out back.” He said it so matter-of-factly as if life was nothing more than something to be extinguished. Colby had forgotten what it was like being around family. Good morals were the punch line to a joke.
Heath brought them to a huge safe at the far back of the room. It could have easily been used in a bank. “You make this?” Alicia asked.
“Sure did. Ain’t much I don’t, darlin’.”
Heath punched in a few codes then turned the lever to unlock the door. He had to use both hands to pull it wide. Sure enough, inside were racks of rifles extending far back like the clothes inside a walk-in closet. They lined the walls, one after the other. AR-15s, M4s, bolt-actions, AK-47s, and M16s. And there at the center of it all, on the ground, stacked up on a wooden pallet was a mountain of gold bars. He knew cannabis was profitable, especially in the black market, but that was a lot. “Holy shit,” Colby said, walking in and picking up one of the heavy bars. “This was Alby’s?”
“Your mother’s. Alby kept it for her. I’d offered to hold it in here originally but telling her what to do is like speaking to a wall.”
Colby tapped Zeke on the shoulder. “We don’t have a lot of time. Bring the ATV trailer around back and we’ll load it up and get it out of here.”
“And if we get stopped on the way?”
“You won’t. I’ll go ahead of you and make sure the road is clear.”
>
He couldn’t begin to imagine what the militia would do if they got their hands on this. Over the next half an hour under the cover of darkness they went back and forth loading the weapons into the trailer. When it came time to take the gold, Heath told them that wouldn’t be going.
“But it came with the weapons.”
“Your mother told me to specifically keep that. So it stays.”
Colby was in no mood to fight him on it. As far as he was concerned it had little value right now. Though he was curious as to how Alby had gotten his hands on it. Why had he been storing it for her? Had she been skimming off the top of all sales and converting it into gold? Her own nest egg in the event things went south with the business and she needed something for her old age? That was a lot for one person.
“Fine.” He grabbed what remained of the rifles and took them out. As he was loading them in the back he asked his brothers, “What do you know about this gold?”
Dylan spoke up. “When we saw it, Alby said it was his. That no one else knew about it. So hearing it’s hers is new. But I’m not surprised. She lies about everything.”
“Maybe he was lying. What Heath said about it belonging to their mother, and Alby storing it for her, sounds more legit. Makes you wonder why they kept that under wraps.”
“No it doesn’t,” Dylan said, closing the trailer. “Jessie always said that she was manipulative.” He patted the top of the trailer. “Okay, let’s roll out.”
“Wait. I’ll go ahead. Scout out the way. If we see anything, I’ll fire up the flare,” Colby said. “Then make sure you get off the road and take it through the back.”
Zeke gave a nod and mounted the ATV. Dylan got on the back and held on to him.
Heath emerged from his shop as Colby and Alicia made their way back to the horse. “Colby. A moment.”
He nodded and then gestured for Alicia to wait by the horse with Kane.
“What is it?”
Heath looked hesitant to say anything. “It’s good to see you back.” He glanced over at Alicia. “And I’m sorry to hear about your loss. I never got the opportunity to say that. I know what it feels like to lose a child.”
Colby assumed he was confused. He must have gotten him mixed up with Jessie and Nina. But how would he have known about that?
“You mean Nina?”
Heath offered a puzzled expression. “Nina? No. Skye.”
“Skye wasn’t pregnant.”
Heath looked him square in the eye. “Huh, I could have sworn your mother said she was.”
Colby didn’t know how to reply to that. It would have been an easy mistake. If Skye had been pregnant, he would have known. She would have told him.
Heath patted him on the shoulder and told him to not worry about it before he went back inside. Colby stood there thinking back to that night. She’d wanted to see him and tell him something important, but he thought it was related to them moving. Was she about to tell him she was carrying his child? He refused to believe it. He couldn’t. If he went there, he would have to question everything including the decision made by his mother to kill Skye. She’d told him that Skye had sold him out to the cops. She’d told him that Skye would have brought down the whole family, his mother included.
But what if she’d lied?
Chapter Eighteen
Colby pushed the conversation from his mind as he guided the horse out of Briceland Road and headed south on Redwood Drive. A bright blue sky spread out over the trees as an intense sun bore down. He gripped the reins tight with one hand, his other holding a flare gun. He scanned ahead and to his right as Alicia looked off to the left. It wasn’t just the militia they were concerned about, but the Stricklands. Weapons were one thing but ammo would soon become harder to get and right now it was more valuable than the gold sitting in that safe.
Within a month, locals, at least those that had remained in the county, had taken it upon themselves to move stalled vehicles littering the road out of the way in and around the city. It made travel easier but seeing them at the edge of the road only served to remind them that the world had changed.
“You okay?” Alicia asked.
“Yeah, why?”
“You just seem a little out of sorts after speaking with Heath.”
He shrugged it off. “I’m fine.”
They had made it maybe a hundred yards down the road when Colby caught sight of something ahead. It looked out of place. His pulse sped up. At first, he thought it was a blockade but there was no checkpoint in Redway, at least none that he’d seen on the way in. He slowed, bringing the horse over to the edge of the road and using the coverage of trees to his advantage.
“What is it?” Alicia asked.
He couldn’t answer because he couldn’t tell, as they were still a distance away. He placed the flare gun in his other hand while he reached for a pair of binoculars in the saddlebag. He brought them up and scanned. Redwood Drive curved with forest on both sides. He could hear and see portions of the South Fork River through the trees.
He adjusted the focus and that’s when the military truck snapped into view. It was angled, partially blocking the way for three riders on horses. Four men were surrounding them, rifles pointed.
He squinted and that’s when he noticed who they were.
“Who is it?” Alicia asked in a hushed voice.
“Militia.”
He didn’t hesitate. Zeke and Dylan were behind, maybe two hundred yards. He lifted the flare gun and aimed it behind him. A quick burst of smoke and it erupted in the air. They would see it and pull off the road. They would have to go another way around but at least they wouldn’t be stopped.
He turned his attention back to the commotion ahead. He figured they might have seen the flare but they were distracted by one of the riders who refused to get down off his horse. One of the militia tried to take hold of the reins but the horse reared up on its hind legs. A gun was fired and the rider slipped off and landed hard. The other two riders went to his aid but were immediately charged and struck in the face.
“Are they raiders?” Alicia asked.
“No. I know one of them. They’re from the Wiyot Tribe.”
He handed her the binoculars so she could take a look. Alicia took a moment to study what was happening. “Should we go around?”
“I need to find out what’s happening here.”
“How? There’s four-armed militia.”
Colby slipped off the horse. “I’ll get closer. Stay here. If anyone approaches, leave, I’ll meet you on Alderpoint Road.”
“Colby. No.”
“Just stay here.”
He left Kane with her. Alicia brought the horse over to a cluster of trees. She climbed off and tied up the horse. Then, she crouched and took the binoculars to get a better view.
Colby ran at a crouch across the road and weaved through the trees to get closer. He held his AR-15 in hand, finger hovering over the trigger. The closer he got, the louder the conversation became.
“You shot him.”
“Get in the truck!” The soldier barked.
One of them was thrust into the passenger side of the truck after being zip-tied, while the second put up a fight, trying to get to the downed man, who was still alive and squirming on the ground.
Colby watched in horror as one of the militia walked up to the downed man. He placed a foot on his back to prevent him from getting away and then without saying a word he lifted a handgun and shot him in the back of the head.
A painful cry escaped one of the other men.
“Next time, do as you’re told!”
“I’m going to rip your…” He recognized him. It was Paco. He unleashed a fist, knocking one of the militia down before he pounced on the second. The one in the truck that had been zip-tied and placed in the front somehow managed to kick out the side window.
Chaos took over, a flurry of activity as the other three militia guys went toe to toe with Paco, a man that was twice the size of them. They could have
shot him but the one that had been struck by Paco told them not to. He wanted him for himself. The soldier got up and brushed himself off, then the other two grabbed Paco on either side and held him against the truck while the soldier wailed on him with hooks and jabs.
Meanwhile, the one in the truck had managed to get himself out of the restraints. He burst out of the door and that’s when the militia knew they’d bitten off more than they could chew. For whatever reason, they chose not to shoot these guys. The four of them attempted to wrestle them to the ground. A task that wasn’t easy.
Moving fast, adrenaline surging through him, Colby hurried toward the truck, rifle out in front of him. “Hey!” he yelled.
One of the militia guys broke away from the fight and lifted his rifle. Colby had to assume he would shoot, especially after they’d already killed one without mercy, so he took the shot, taking the militia guy down with a round to the skull.
The three remaining were oblivious, too caught up in the fight with Paco and the other one. They must have assumed the gunshot came from their fellow soldier.
When one of them turned his way, that’s when anger exploded.
A split-second glance at his fallen brother, and he lifted a Glock and unleashed two rounds. Colby darted sideways, taking cover on the other side of the truck.
He dropped down and saw the soldier making his way around.
He fired a round, the bullet struck him in the leg.
He screamed in agony, thrashing around on the ground.
Colby found himself zigzagging across the road, trying to reach cover as one of the other two came around the back of the truck. It all happened so fast. Gunfire was coming from two directions. There was no time to stand in one place and figure out who to shoot first. He took cover in the tree line.
Paco was shot in the leg to take the fight out of him, and then quickly shoved into the truck. His friend was on top of the soldier Colby had downed, trying to strangle him. A second soldier lifted his gun to shoot him but before he could do that, Colby took the shot and took the soldier out. His body dropped, and the engine roared to life.