2 Dog River Blues

by Mike Jastrzebski

  Pain washed over me in waves, but I ignored it and forced myself to my feet. I didn’t know if Rusty had survived, but I couldn’t wait to find out. My left arm hung at my side like a broken wing. I had to reach Roy before Rusty did. Nausea nipped at me as I set off toward the cabin at a painful trot.

  Tiny needles of rain lashed my face, and halfway across the grassy field my feet flew out from beneath me. This time when my shoulder popped it sounded to me like the crack of a ship’s cannon.

  I screamed and lay there, too stunned to move. Cold, sweet smelling rain washed over my body, reviving me. I struggled to my feet, drew several deep-sobbing breaths into my lungs, and ran on. To my left I thought I heard two or maybe three shots. It was too dark to be sure of where I was headed, but to my right there appeared a dark curtain that I hoped was the woods. I swerved and headed toward them.

  I never made it. I tripped on a rock or a tree stump, or some other unseen rubble. This time I twisted my body as I fell and took the jarring blow on my right side. Still, the pain roared up in my left shoulder and I passed out.

  I awoke with my face buried in a mound of mint smelling leaves. I thought I heard another gunshot, but it could have been distant thunder. Disoriented, I rolled onto my back, let out a groan, and tried to sit up.

  Something brushed against my leg and I felt a presence beside me. My heart raced and I gathered what remaining strength I possessed and prepared to make my last stand when Roy’s voice sounded in my ear. “What’s going on son? You hurt?”

  I squinted up at him through the rain, then did a double take and began to pull away.

  “Easy there, Wes.” He pulled something from his face and leaned forward, once again speaking in a soft voice he added, “Night vision goggles. Didn’t think about the effect on someone seeing them. I’m no monster. Now tell me, where are you hurt?”

  “I think I dislocated my shoulder. And Rusty’s alive. He’s armed and out there somewhere. How’d you find me?”

  “I heard a crash. Came out to investigate and thought I heard gunshots so I went back inside and got my goggles and a gun. It was Dwayne that found you. Dog’s a born tracker.”

  “What do we do now?” I asked.

  “I’m gonna put an end to this nonsense with Rusty once and for all.”

  “You’re not going to just kill him?” I asked.

  “Most definitely.”

  “Roy, I….”

  “It’s not something that’s up for discussion. He’s not going to go away and we can’t turn him over to the cops. You know damn well he’ll drag all of us into this mess if we go to them. I’d like to get you out of the rain, but I need to take care of Rusty first.”

  I thought about it for a moment and remembered the way Rusty had smiled when he talked about going after my grandmother and cousin.

  “You’re right,” I said.

  “I know you don’t like this son. I don’t like killing either but this is no different than any other war. Sometimes, it’s kill or be killed. There are places not far from here where we can dump a body and only the gators are likely to find it. Now I want you to stay put so I know where you are. These goggles help but they only do so much, especially in this rain. The lightning flashes are blinding. I’ll leave Dwayne here with you.”

  Roy stood. Ordering the dog to stay, he slipped away into the night. The rain muffled his footsteps but a staccato burst of lightning strikes made the field seem like a giant ballroom lit by strobe lights. I watched his slow motion progress, watched a shadow step out from behind a tree to his left.

  I called out a warning as I pushed myself to my feet. A clap of thunder drowned out my voice. The sky lit up with another series of lightning flashes. I heard the snap of a gunshot and saw Roy fall.

  I didn’t wait for the next flash. I took off in a stumbling sprint toward him. My left shoulder radiated pain down my arm, but I ignored it.

  Dwayne loped alongside me, but something in his canine brain must have registered that his master was in danger and Dwayne took off with a burst of speed.

  I had hoped to take Rusty by surprise but he turned his head in my direction as another flash lit the sky. He dropped to one knee, brought up his arm and pointed the gun at me.

  The dog flew through the air, but Rusty threw himself to the ground and Dwayne flew by him. Without pause, Rusty swung around and shot the dog.

  Roy’s pistol was still in his hand. I tried not to look at his bloody head as I reached down and snatched it up. I twisted my shoulder as I jumped to my feet and a wave of dizziness passed over me. Fighting for my life I turned, the gun at my side, only to find that Rusty had me covered.

  He said something that was lost in the din of the storm. Another flash of lightning accentuated his skeletal grin. He took a step toward me, raised the gun, and I knew I was about to die.

  My shoulder throbbed to the beat of my heart and I was having trouble concentrating. Thunder crashed, another series of bolts lit the sky, and in that split second I saw Dwayne stagger to his feet, lunge forward, and sink his teeth into Rusty’s leg.

  Rusty opened his mouth and let out a silent scream and swung the gun toward me. I lifted Roy’s gun, but Rusty was a fraction of a second quicker. I saw a flash, felt something slam into my left leg, and as I teetered on my good leg I fired twice in his direction. Then I fell to the ground and gave in to the waves of darkness that enveloped me.

  Chapter 26

  I awoke to find myself lying naked under a heavy blanket. For several moments I wondered where I was. Memories of what had happened flooded my mind and it took me a moment to realize I was in Roy’s cabin.

  I was lying on his sofa bed, which was opened up in the middle of the room. I had no idea how I had gotten there. No idea what had happened to Roy or Rusty. My shoulder was tightly bound, my leg was bandaged, and I felt as if an iron had seared my nerve endings.

  “It’s about time you got up.”

  Twisting my head to the left, I found Jessica sitting on a leather chair that had been moved next to the sofa. She was dressed in yellow pajamas and a white fleece robe and at the moment she looked like an angel. Dwayne was curled up next to her on the floor. His flank was wrapped in a large bandage and when I moved, he looked up. I tried to speak, but all that came out was a harsh, groaning sound.

  Jessica lifted a glass off the table next to where she sat. There was a straw in it and she leaned forward and placed the straw between my lips. The water was cool and eased my discomfort. When she started to pull the glass away I clamped my teeth onto the straw and shook my head.

  She used a little more force to remove it. “The doctor said a little at a time. Take a couple of good swallows and I’ll give you more.”

  I nodded, followed her directions and croaked out, “More.”

  This time, she left the straw a little longer. When she finally pulled it away I asked, “Roy?”

  “He’s all right. The bullet creased his skull. He always did say he had a hard head. He managed to drag you back here. After that he called a doctor and me.”

  “What about the police?”

  “No police.”

  “But how?” I asked. “You mentioned a doctor. They have to report gunshot wounds.”

  If she gave a response, I didn’t hear it. My mind was growing foggy. I began to drift on medicated currents, and then I was asleep.

  The next time I came up for air it was Roy who was seated beside my bed. His head was bandaged, and when he heard me stir he reached over and laid his crossword puzzle on the table.

  “How you feeling?” he asked.

  “Sore.”

  “That’s not too surprising. In the past week you’ve been beaten, shot, and had your shoulder dislocated. You’re lucky to be young. I haven’t gone through half of what you’ve gone through, and it’s all I can do to walk across the cabin.”

  “I’m just damn glad you’re alive. I thought Rusty had killed you. By the way, what happened to him?"

  “Your shot was a
lot more accurate than his. You killed him dead.”

  “I guess it was him or me. Why aren’t the cops sniffing around?”

  “The police don’t know about the whole mess.”

  I frowned. “How’s that possible? Jessica said something about a doctor.”

  “That’s a bit of a story.” Roy reached for his pipe and tobacco pouch and leaned back in his chair. When he had it going smoothly, he took a deep drag, exhaled, and filled the room with the sweet scent of his tobacco.

  Lying back I waited, mesmerized by the thin tendrils of smoke he created as he puffed away on his pipe. I waited while he decided what to tell me. When his pipe died, he let out an audible sigh and studied it for a long time, then placed it on the table and leaned forward in his chair.

  “You familiar with the survivalist movement?” he asked.

  “Sure. They’re a bunch of nuts that have stockpiled food and weapons in preparation for the apocalypse. They’re convinced world destruction is just around the corner.”

  “It’s a little more complicated than that, Wes. Many are patriots who believe our government is leading the nation further and further away from the constitution. The doctor is a survivalist and a member of the Southern American Militia. The group’s website lists its mission as the preservation of the constitution.”

  “You a member of this group?”

  Roy shook his head and sat back into the chair. “No. Let’s just say I have a good many friends in the movement. I certainly think the government’s way out of whack. I guess you could call me a constitutionalist.”

  “Tell me a little more about the doctor.”

  “He’s a member. While I’m ready to give the Congress a little more time to set things right, he’d just as soon dump the current system. His family owned a big plantation before The War for States Rights. He thinks slavery should be reinstated. But he’s an old war buddy and I saved his life back in Nam. He won’t go to the police.”

  I looked up at the ceiling and tried to sort it all out. Maybe Jessica hadn’t been kidding when she referred to crazy Uncle Roy.

  “I’ll have to figure out a story for around the marina,” I said.

  “Jessica took care of that.”

  I groaned. “Why is it I’m almost as worried about that as the truth?”

  Roy let out a deep belly laugh. “It is a little disconcerting to have your life dependant on Jessica, isn’t it? Not that she’d do anything to intentionally hurt you. But she does spin a convoluted web when she tells a story. I told her to keep it simple.”

  The covers were beginning to itch and I pushed them off my chest. “What did she tell them?”

  “The truth, what else.”

  I raised my body and tried to lean on my arm but the shoulder began to ache and I had to lie back down. “That doesn’t make me feel any better, Roy.”

  “She spread the word that you were in an accident and you were staying with family until you recovered a bit.”

  “What happened to the car?” I asked.

  “Had another friend tow it away. Took it to a junk yard where the policy is ask no questions.”

  “And Rusty?”

  “I borrowed a boat and took the body up the Mobile River to a deserted cutoff I know of,” he said after awhile. “Daddy used to take me up there to fish when I was a boy. You can’t get to it except by boat, and then only if you know how to get in.”

  “You don’t think anyone will find him?”

  “Lots of gators out there. Not too many people. I weighed the body down pretty good. Even if they find him someday there won’t be much left. No reason for the cops to come looking for us.”

  He sounded more confident than I felt. I was growing drowsy, and before I could thank him, I dropped back off to sleep.

  Epilogue

  It was April Fool’s Day by the time I got away from Mobile. The temperatures had been slowly rising and after a week of rain the sun was up, there was a nice breeze, and Mobile Bay was as smooth as a sheet of ice.

  My shoulder had healed nicely but my leg was still a little stiff. When I first stepped on it in the mornings the nerve endings felt as if they were on fire, but after moving around a little the pain would ease. Roy’s doctor friend had given me some medication and a list of exercises. I’d been exercising every day and it seemed to help. I put the medication away and decided I’d only dig it out if the pain became unbearable.

  The plan was to cross the bay and take the Intracoastal Waterway to Apalachicola, Florida. From there we’d take three overnight sails, stopping in Clearwater, Ft. Myer’s Beach, and ending up in Key West.

  As I steered the boat out of Dog River and under the Dauphin Island Parkway Bridge, I heard the phone ring. I ignored it and set my attention to the channel markers up ahead. Ten minutes later, Jessica stepped out of the cabin. She had a cup of coffee in each hand, a smile on her face, and was wearing a Brazilian bikini that would have been ruled indecent in at least half-a-dozen states.

  She handed me one of the cups and sat down next to me. “I just got off the phone with Uncle Roy.”

  “What did he want?”

  Jessica took a sip of her coffee and made a face. “The State Department is sending someone to pick up the manuscript. They found the owner. Some abbey in France. He said Gran is anxious to get rid of the thing after all the trouble it’s caused.”

  We sat there and enjoyed the peace and quiet of Mobile Bay. Ten minutes later, she broke my heart. “Uncle Roy also said the confirmation of my summer class schedule came too.”

  I looked at her out of the corner of my eye. “You don’t have to go, you know. There’s plenty of room for two on board. It doesn’t have to be just a six week trip to the Keys. It’s a big world and there’s lots of water to sail on. We could spend the summer on the Chesapeake, or in Maine.”

  Jessica took my hand, turned it up, and ran her thumb across the palm. “And then what? We’re too young to be retired. Where’s the money going to come from?”

  I thought about the stash of diamonds I had hidden in a secret cubby under the front berth. A small fortune I’d recovered a few months earlier when I’d reluctantly tracked down the thief.

  “I’ve got some money put aside,” I said.

  “I’m not willing to be a kept woman,” Jessica said. “Besides, I hated dropping out last semester. I want my degree, but after Granddaddy died and the manuscript was stolen I missed too many classes. If I take summer classes I’ll be done by the end of the year."

  “Then what?”

  “I don’t know, Wes. I always thought I’d teach. I don’t see myself traveling from port to port never feeling I’m at home.”

  Jessica let go of my hand and stood up. She looked back toward the Dog River and I knew I wasn’t going to win this argument. I gave it one more try. “I thought home was where the heart is.”

  “It is.” She spoke so softly that I barely heard her next words. “My home is Mobile. Can you see yourself settling down there? Buying a house? Having children?”

  “Probably not.”

  Jessica looked down at me. “That’s why I never suggested it. You’re a wanderer, Wes. A hundred and fifty years ago you would have been heading west or maybe taking a ship to Australia. I like that about you. But it’s not for me.”

  “So what do we do?” I asked.

  She reached down, grabbed my hand and pulled me to my feet. “We enjoy the two months we have together. If I remember right, you were going to teach me how to sail.”

  The End

  ***

  Other books by Mike Jastrzebski:

  Key Lime Blues (A Wes Darling Mystery)

  The Storm Killer

  To learn more about or to contact Mike, visit his website:

  http://www.mikejastrzebski.com

  Mike’s Blog: http://www.writeonthewater.com

 

 
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