by Hunt, Jack
“Cartwright, come in, Cartwright, over?”
Nothing but static.
Colby hurried over to the ATV and brought it upright again. His eyes frantically scanned the intersection. Did they just have one shooter or were there others he couldn’t see? He tried to get the ATV to start but it wouldn’t. “Come on, you sonofabitch!”
The fuel was on, the kill switch was off. He held the brake down and pressed the start button. Nothing.
“Damn you!”
Behind him, he heard the sound of galloping and looked over his shoulder to see horses heading his way. Militia. He tried again and the third time the ATV spluttered. “That’s it. That’s it. C’mon. Start, you muther…” Before he could get all the words out, it roared to life and he tore away, keeping his head low and praying as gunfire chewed up the road either side of him. He didn’t look back to see if it was the riders or snipers on roofs, he just kept going, his mind circling back to his mother, to Dan, to Paco.
Zeke was pacing, craning his neck as he came over a rise on the single dirt road. Asher and Dirk had made it back long before he did. He had been almost certain he wouldn’t make it out of town alive but his knowledge of the landscape, and some of the side streets and back alleys, had allowed him to disappear into the hills before they laid eyes on him again. The gate was opened and Colby blasted through up to the cabin. The ATV bounced over the uneven ground, jerking him around.
Alicia and Kane came out to meet him.
“You hurt?” she asked.
“No.”
She hugged him.
“Where is he?” Colby asked as soon as he shut off the engine.
“Inside.”
Colby heard Dylan yelling. “Just take it out,” he shouted.
“Oh, stop being a baby. It’s just a scratch,” Annalise said. Colby found them in the kitchen. Dylan was sitting beside the table, his one good arm resting on it while Annalise was working on the damaged shoulder.
“How is he?”
“Oh, his usual self.”
“Screw you, Annalise. It hurts.”
“Well it’s not going to be a joyride,” she said.
Dylan took a swig from a bottle of bourbon. “Just get the damn thing out.”
“I will if you stop wiggling.”
Zeke barreled into the house. “Colby. Hey. What do we do? Huh? What do we do?”
“We don’t do anything. I need some time to think.”
“Think? She’s down there. She doesn’t have time for us to think.”
“They won’t do anything right away,” he said, moving into the back room where they’d placed all the rifles and ammo, and then into a washroom where he filled one of the sinks with a jug of water.
“But Colby, we can’t just stay here.”
“I never said we would. Just back off. Give me some space.” He ran his hands into the water and splashed it over his face and head. He was sweating hard and needed to change his clothes. “Gary. Niles!” he bellowed. They hurried into the washroom.
“Did you get those claymores set up?”
“Yeah.”
He patted Niles on the shoulder as he walked out. He went to where all the rifles were and told Gary to make sure everyone had loaded weapons, then he wanted three of them to head down the single dirt trail and roll into place the abandoned vehicles that had once belonged to trimmers.
Each of them knew those woods like the back of their hand. They’d spent years playing there as kids, they knew the trees, landmarks, every inch of the undulating landscape. After previous attacks on their farm by the Stricklands, and others looking to steal crops, they had various booby traps that Alby had set up. There were dugouts into the ground covered by planks of wood, leaves, and dirt. They would utilize everything as there was no telling how many would show.
“Colby,” Zeke said. “We need to help her.”
“And we will.”
“Yeah? When? How?”
“When I…” His mind was doing backflips. It would have been easier to face off against the Stricklands than to go to war with the militia. There were at least fifty of them, armed, skilled men that were now gunning for all of them.
“You’re going to leave her, aren’t you? Because she was responsible for Skye’s death. I know it. You don’t even need to say it.”
He looked at his brother. Zeke brought a hand up to his face. “Dylan was right, we should have stayed with her.”
“If we had stayed we would have been dead. You know that. Mother knew that.”
“Then when are we going?”
“We aren’t. Not yet. Nina! Where’s Nina?” he asked, going to the doorway and looking out.
“She’s with Jessie.”
Colby made his way to the front of the house and stepped into the room to find her sitting beside his bed, holding his hand. His eyes were open now. “Jessie.”
“Hey brother,” he muttered, managing to summon enough energy to talk. He certainly was far from being able to get up, but he tried. Nina put a hand on his chest.
“No. You need to rest.”
“I need to get up and help.”
“She’s right. Um. I need a word with Nina.”
Jessie nodded, and he stepped out of the room and Nina followed. She closed the door behind her. “What is it?”
He hated to ask and there was no guarantee but it was worth a shot. “I need you to speak to your family. To Hank. Tell them that they have Paco, my mother, and even Dan.”
“They won’t listen.”
“Then make them.” He took a deep breath. “If we are to survive this, we will need more people. More allies. If he won’t listen, send him up here and I will speak with him.”
“But…”
“Just do it.”
Nina nodded, then poked her head back into the room. “I have to go.”
“No. Nina. Stay.”
“I’ll be back.” She went in and kissed him and then walked out, leaving Colby alone with Jessie.
“It’s time you and I talked,” he said.
He went inside and closed the door behind him.
Chapter Twenty-Two
The news of an execution was heard over the fallen soldier’s radio the next day in the middle of the afternoon. It was to occur that evening in Fort Humboldt State Park. No jury, no judge, or fair trial was to be had. Paco, Martha, and Dan Wilder were classified as dissidents and were to face a firing squad. They were to become the scapegoats for all that was wrong in the county. And yet, Colby couldn’t help but think that there was something more to it. Every hour the message repeated over the radio as if they were announcing it for anyone who might be tuned into the frequency. But there would have only been a few that might have listened:
The Rikers.
The Stricklands.
And maybe the Wiyot Tribe.
“It’s an attempt to lure us out, draw us away from the homestead,” Colby said to Jessie. “They know up here we have the advantage. We know these hills better than them. Bastards. They’re not coming.” He gritted his teeth and clenched a fist. His stomach churned with the thought of it all. Despite all the wrong his mother had done, she was still his flesh and blood.
“I’ll help,” Jessie said.
“You can’t even stand, Jessie. No.”
“I can hold a gun.”
Colby shook his head, thinking about the options.
“They’ll have that place surrounded,” he said, rising from a chair at the side of his bed. He didn’t want to lose another parent. He didn’t want an innocent man to be killed, and as much as he hated to say it, even though Dan was from the Strickland line, he had gone to bat for them. Tried to protect them at the department. He didn’t want him to die.
Colby knew his mother would have them stay at the farm. She wouldn’t want them to risk their lives for her. Hell, he was convinced of that. At one time he might have been able to live with that, but not now, not after all this time, not after she’d come clean. His parents were tw
isted individuals and flawed people, but they were shaped by their upbringing. If he had to blame anyone, it would have been their parents, and their grandparents, and those before them. But blame wouldn’t change a damn thing. Skye was still gone. And his father. He was old enough and had lived through enough trauma to know that holding on to bitterness only ate away at the one holding it.
“If anyone can convince them to help, it would be Nina,” Jessie said.
“If she had, she would have been back by now. She’s been gone since yesterday. I expect Hank has prevented her from returning. He owes us nothing and from what I’ve heard, he hates Dan anyway. Dan stood in the way of them getting their hands on Alby. Then there are the murders. Then you. No.”
“Then why did you ask her to go?”
“Because maybe I’m naïve enough to think that something like this could bring our families together. I mean, pregnancies sure haven’t. But violence directed at us. That we’re familiar with. Neither one of us will be pushed and whether they like Dan or not, they have to be wondering how this will play out for them if no one does anything.” He rose and went to the window to see if Nina had returned. Outside, his brothers and sisters patrolled.
“What about the Wiyot Tribe?”
He shrugged. “I’m not sure they’ll get involved.”
“Could you not speak with them again?”
“One of them headed back to tell them about Paco.” He breathed in deeply and turned back to Jessie. “Whether they come or not is immaterial. We can’t hold on to that hope.”
A moment passed.
Jessie nodded. “Colby, I’m sorry. I didn’t know about Skye. I…”
“It’s in the past. You can’t change it any more than I can.”
“But if I hadn’t listened to mother…”
“And if she hadn’t listened to Nancy, and Nancy hadn’t listened to Ryland. Yeah, I get it. Woulda, shoulda, coulda. Mistakes have marred our history, Jessie. I don’t want to dwell on it. Skye wouldn’t have wanted it either. It’s already stolen enough years. I might not be able to forget but I can forgive.” There were no hugs, no pats on the back. That wasn’t their way. Even the mention of forgiveness wasn’t in their vocabulary. It felt foreign, uncomfortable even saying it.
“So what now?” Jessie asked. “Hole up here and wait for them to show or will you go and try to stop them?”
“As large as our family is, there’s not enough of us and we would lose too many.”
He nodded and groaned in pain as he turned. “I wish I could get out of this bed. If I could just get my hands on that bastard. I tried to fight back but there were too many of them. They…” he trailed off. Colby could see the anger in his expression.
“And with the help of the Wiyots?” Jessie asked.
“Maybe. There aren’t as many as there used to be.”
“And the other tribes?” he asked.
He shrugged.
“Try to reach out to Dakota. There is still time, Colby.”
He glanced at the clock. It was after four. If the message over the radio was to be believed, the execution was scheduled for seven that evening. Evans knew what he was doing. He was smarter than he looked. Sending his men up into the hills would have only ended in disaster but drawing them out, that gave them a chance. Colby placed a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Sit tight. I’ll go and see what I can do.”
He left the room and almost bumped into Alicia on the way out.
“Oh, Colby. I was just coming to see you.”
“Yeah, sorry, I’ve been a little preoccupied.”
“I want to help. I feel like I’m doing nothing sitting around here. What can I do?”
“I have an idea, follow me,” he said, continuing down the hallway. He knew they needed allies, more people to bring the fight to the militia, but it couldn’t just be anyone. They needed the Stricklands. The two families together had more than enough experience, firepower, and grit to put an end to this, but holding out hope that Nina had convinced them was foolish. He also couldn’t go to the different tribes as he didn’t know them and why would they risk their lives for people they didn’t know or care about?
The Wiyot were the only ones that had a reason, but was one of them worth losing others? Only they could decide that. One thing was sure. No one would get out of this unscathed.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Karma was a bitch. It was the perfect payback. Martha Riker would finally get what was coming to her and he didn’t have to lift a damn finger. As for Dan, well, he’d warned him. He’d been given lots of chances to stand by the Stricklands and do what was right for the family, but he’d refused. He’d dug his heels in the ground, turned up his nose, and given him that whole self-righteous spiel. Well, now he would get his comeuppance. Hank scoffed and relished this moment. “No, and that is my final word on the matter,” he said to Nina who hadn’t stopped pleading since she’d arrived yesterday.
It was quite pitiful actually.
“I wish I was never associated with the Strickland family.”
“Yeah, well you are and consider yourself lucky.”
“Give us a moment,” Samuel said. His brother gestured for Nina to leave the room. Unfortunately, her father had sided with her on this matter. It wasn’t that he liked the Rikers, as he hated them as much as Hank did, but it was Dan. He had close ties to Dan, and he believed that no matter what, family was still family.
“Don’t waste your breath, Samuel. I’ve said my piece.”
“Yeah, well now I will say mine.” He closed the door behind Nina and turned. “You’re my brother. Nothing will ever change that. I have always done what is right by this family to the extent of losing my daughter’s faith in me.”
“Oh please. Dear Lord, spare me the drama. That child inside Nina was an abomination. It would have undermined everything we have done to date as a family.”
Samuel nodded. “I’m not disagreeing with you, brother. And we must live with that transgression.”
“Oh don’t you dare bring religion into this.”
Samuel was a religious man. More so than anyone else in the family. He’d found God in prison. That’s why it had struck Hank as odd that he agreed to the abortion. He was pro-life but only when it served his purpose. In Hank’s eyes, all religious people were like that. Cherry-picking whatever the hell and twisting words to support their decisions. Not him. He was a straight shooter.
“What I’m saying, Hank, is that Dan is not a mixed breed. He has no ties to the Rikers. He’s one of us.”
Hank exploded on him, stabbing a finger in the direction of the town. “He WAS one of us. Not anymore. And as for ties to the Rikers. Of course, he has. He shielded Alby and refused me my right to justice. Now if that isn’t showing preference I don’t know what is.”
“He’s a lawman. What do you expect him to do? They have rules.”
“As do we!” Hank shouted.
“You are not above the law.”
Hank laughed as he wandered out into the kitchen and collected a beer. He cracked it open and drank half of it in one gulp as Samuel continued his tirade of nonsense. “You know, Samuel. That’s why I like you. You are a walking contradiction. One minute you say you are following the laws of God, and the next tossing them to the wind and aborting children.” He laughed again. “You religious folks are a fucking mystery.”
“Don’t mock God.”
“I’m not. I’m mocking you. You are an embarrassment to your faith. So get off your high horse, step down from your podium and keep your religious crap out of this house. Because until you can demonstrate you walk what you talk, you might as well shut your mouth. You’re a joke and an embarrassment to this family.”
He walked past him, knowing he would do nothing. Samuel had always been the black sheep of the family. The odd one out. And now he had run to God and used religion as a crutch. He wouldn’t have minded had he done it one hundred percent of the way. But he had one foot in God’s laws, and the other
in theirs. Nothing burned him more than hypocrisy, and Samuel was ripe with it.
“I’m not perfect. I know that. I don’t understand all that is required of me but I have tried. I don’t see you trying.”
“That’s because I don’t, brother,” Hank said. “I mean why would I? Look at you. Guilt-ridden. Drenched in self-loathing for your sins. Living in terror that you might say the wrong thing, do the wrong thing, be the wrong thing. Who the heck wants to carry that kind of baggage around? No. The good Lord knows what he gets with me. It’s not a mystery. Hell, in many ways I’m following the words of the good book more than you.”
Samuel shifted from one foot to the next. “Really? How so?”
Hank paraphrased it but quoted some scripture that he barely knew, something about being hot or cold but not lukewarm or God would spit him out of his mouth. “I don’t lie. I know what side of the fence I’m on. Do you, brother?”
Samuel looked despondent. No doubt he would go home, fall on his knees and offer up a tearful cry. If he could flagellate himself he would. He had to wonder if he had already done that like the ancient monks. No doubt he was torturing himself for allowing the doctor to abort his daughter’s child. Not him. It was the right thing to do. He wouldn’t lose a second of sleep over it. “Now I am done having this conversation.”
“Then his blood will be on your hands,” Samuel said.
Hank lost it. Although he didn’t live in regret, he despised anyone that tried to pin someone else’s bad choices on him. He lashed out, striking Samuel across the jaw with a right hook. Samuel hit the floor and he was about to follow through with a kick to the gut when Seth burst into the room. “Dad. Come quick.”
He looked at him.
“What is it?”
“You need to see this.”
Hank glanced at Samuel and sneered before walking past him.
Outside, in the bright afternoon sunshine, he was disturbed to see Colby Riker on his property but even more so when he locked eyes with the woman accompanying him.