He was surprised when he felt Angela’s hand clasp his. Her hand was warm against his hand, which was chilled by nerves.
“Breathe,” she whispered. He looked at her, deep concern in her eyes. “It’s going to be okay.”
“Yes, it is,” Calvin’s deep voice resonated from the backseat.
He inhaled deeply and offered her a meek smile. He did not want to wander into her eyes, so he returned a steely gaze forward. He left his hand in hers; welcoming the comfort it brought him. They sat in silence as the moments passed.
Seconds turned to minutes as they waited. His blood pressure rose and sweat beaded across his brow. He willed the fear to stay in his belly to keep it at bay. What’s going on? Did Hodges not buy it? Is he not here? The tumult of unanswered questions plagued him. He hated not knowing. He wanted to move. To act. To settle things once and for all. He could smell the fumes from the idling engine. His stomach turned.
“What is…” he started, but the radio interrupted him.
“Bring him up,” Miles’ voice rasped. Everything to plan so far. Angela put the Jeep into drive and rolled forward. She withdrew her hand. Cooper’s body underwent a transformation as it always did once the action started. He breathed deeply and the anxiety dropped away like a snake shedding its skin.
“It’s go time,” he said. His voice was steady and sure. His eyes narrowed. His hearing sharpened. He wiped the sweat from his palms and forehead.
“Speed and surprise are our friends. No hesitation. Attack and keep attacking until it’s done,” he said as much to himself as to remind Angela and Calvin of the strategy.
“We will get him, Cooper,” Calvin said, patting him on the shoulder from the back.
As they turned into the driveway, Cooper felt the muzzle of Calvin’s pistol pressed against the back of his head. He almost spun around to knock it away from reflex, but caught himself just before.
“We have to sell this,” Calvin explained. He held the pistol so that its silhouette would be prominent by anyone viewing from the front.
“Good idea. Just warn me next time,” Cooper said in a weak joke.
**********
Hodges’ driveway was paved and the Jeep’s tires found sure purchase as they drove forward. Trees crowded the driveway, blocking out the weak sun. In the distance, about two hundred yards ahead, the clearing beckoned them. Much closer, two guards toting rifles stepped onto the asphalt, blocking their approach and motioning for the Jeep to stop.
Damn! There was no time for Cooper to conceal the weapons he carried. His mind spun and decided all in a split second.
“Keep it steady and slow. As you pull up, gun it,” he said to Angela.
“Calvin, take the guard to the right. I’ll get the one on the left. We’ll all be deafened after that,” Cooper continued.
He was counting on that one-half second of delay in the guard’s reaction time to get them through this. That’s all surprise buys you. One half of a second. He hoped Miles could deal with what was about to happen on his end.
They rolled forward. The Jeep was travelling about ten miles an hour, but it felt as if they were travelling at ten inches per hour. C’mon! Cooper’s mind cried out. The guards did not raise their weapons as they approached; they only kept them at the ready in their hands. Cooper thanked God for that. He could see their faces now. The man on the right was young with pimples emblazoned across his face. He carried a shotgun, was dressed in Carhart work clothing, and a black baseball cap with white stitching spelling out ‘CAT.’ The guard on the left was older, probably in his thirties. His clothing was a mottled camouflage jacket and black pants. A green knit stocking cap struggled to keep curly brown hair covered. He had a pistol on his hip and an AK-47 style rifle in his hand; likely semi-automatic.
Angela craftily slowed the vehicle down as she approached them. Cooper lifted his pistol from its holster, keeping every muscle above the dashboard still as he did so. The guards took a half step forward, closer to the Jeep. Angela floored the accelerator and the engine revved loudly. Time slowed.
Cooper lifted his pistol up and rushed off two point-aimed shots at the guard. The pair of .357SIG rounds punched through the windshield in front of Angela. Puffs of clothing exploded outward from the man’s chest and he collapsed to his knees before toppling over. The sound was deafening and concussion from the pistol firing resounded within the cab. Cooper felt the muzzle of Calvin’s pistol leave his head and his pistol boomed just a few inches from his left ear. Flame shot outward in front of him, his left cheek feeling the heat. This shot was even louder than his had been. Stabbing pain shot through his left ear. He guessed his left eardrum had just been ruptured. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the guard drop out of view.
His head was ringing and pulsed from the massive concussion. His hand went to his ear and came back bloodied. The Jeep sped towards Hodges’ home. He shoved the pistol back into its holster and grabbed the FAL from where it rested on his lap. The reek of cordite and the haze of smoke filled the cab. He cranked his window down. Calvin had done the same in the back. Cold air rushed in. The Jeep gathered speed and the trees to either side whipped by. In mere seconds, they were into the clearing and the light. He squinted.
Angela slammed the brakes and the Jeep came to a rapid stop about ten yards from the front of the house.
Cooper spilled from the Jeep, coming up on one knee with his rifle at the ready. His eyes scanned the porch in one fluid motion. His mind cursed in frustration.
Hodges was on the porch, just above the front steps. An antagonizing smile was impressed across his face. His feet were splayed out wide. His posture was strong, confident. Miles was standing next to him, Hodges’ arm wrapped around his throat. His face was riven in fear. His eyes pleaded with Cooper’s for forgiveness and mercy simultaneously. Glistening beads of sweat covered his face and neck. Hodges had a pistol muzzle pressed firmly against his head, just behind his right ear. A two-man team was facing them from the other side of Hodges. Their weapons were a mix of military-style rifles and shotguns—both deadly at this short range.
Cooper saw Hodges’ mouth move, but could hear nothing of what he’d said. His could hear some muffled noises through the ringing in his left ear, but nothing out of his right.
“You’ll have to yell, I can’t hear a thing!” Cooper screamed.
Hodges looked confused for a moment, but then yelled. Cooper saw the veins popping on his neck.
His words were barely discernible to Cooper, despite his exertion, “Nice to see you, Cooper,” Hodges said. His sanguine tone irritated Cooper. The confidence of a man holding a Full House in a high stakes poker game. He ached to wipe that grin off his face, preferably with a paint scraper.
Instead, he forced a smile onto his own, “Likewise.” He kept his rifle up, aimed. By the actions of Hodges and his men, he guessed that Angela and Calvin were doing the same on the other side of the Jeep.
“You really do need to lower those rifles if we are to have a civil conversation,” Hodges said.
Cooper’s mind spun in overdrive. The flurry of options and probabilities raced through. He kept coming up empty.
“What guarantee do we have that if we throw down, you won’t just kill us?” He cared less about the answer than in buying himself time. Time to think.
Hodges belly rolled in a deep laugh, “You have the guarantee that the Governor wants you alive. Your friends, well, they’ll just have to trust me.”
“That sounds very sketchy to me,” Cooper willed ease into his voice.
Miles caught his eyes again. If they had been hands, they would have been gesticulating wildly. What the hell is he trying to tell me? Cooper couldn’t discern the intended message as he saw desperation, despondence, and panic roll across Miles’ face.
Hodges impatience, however, came through clearly, “I’m going to give you five more seconds and then Miles and your friends are going to get very messy.”
“What does Miles think I should do?”
Cooper opted for the direct route.
Miles’ eyes narrowed to slits full of anger and he yelled back at Cooper, “Bethany and Mama would know. Ask them!”
Looking perplexed, Hodges turned toward Miles. For Cooper, it all fell into place. Bethany’s recent revelation of infidelity. His mother, Lily’s, violent death within the hour. Miles’ inconsolable depression over it. He knew Miles was telling him to take the shot while keeping Hodges in the dark.
Cooper’s own eyes squinted. His sights lined up on Hodges’ head, on those gleaming teeth. His finger began depressing the trigger. Hodges knew what was coming, but he was a split second too slow to react. Cooper’s rifle fired. He hit Hodges in the right shoulder. At the same time, Hodges’ pistol went off. Miles’ head disappeared in a ruinous red splash. Blood, flesh, and brain sprayed across and onto the two guards to his left. They both cringed under the impact. These were the men opposite Cooper, so it saved his life, buying him precious seconds to delay on their part.
He heard gunfire from the opposite side of the Jeep as he pivoted and fired at the two other men in front of him in rapid succession. They both disappeared under the fusillade of the half-dozen rounds he’d fired. Cooper ran through the haze of smoke that lay about him and ascended the stairs. He looked to his left and found the other guards down and moaning. Calvin and Angela had done their job.
He rushed to the downed men, kicking their weapons out of reach. The porch was awash in blood and he almost lost his footing twice as he skidded through the ooze. Two of the men were already dead. Angela or Calvin had hit one of the men in the head, while one of the men he had shot had been hit three times in the chest. The other two men were badly wounded and moaning in abject misery. Once he had ensured they posed no further threat, he looked at Hodges. He was also down, but conscious. Cooper assiduously avoided looking at Miles. He knew if he did he would be haunted forever by that image of carnage.
Cooper stole a look behind him, while shouting, “We need to secure the house!”
“In a minute!” Calvin called back. His back was to him. Angela lay on the ground and he was tending to her. Cooper was shocked to see her lying so. In the furious action, he had not seen it happen. Cooper bit the inside of his cheek to fight the worried thoughts about her condition and his desire to run to her side.
Cooper knelt to the ground, next to Hodges. He kept an eye watching the door. He wanted to move through the home and see if other threats awaited them inside.
“You’re going to kill me, aren’t you?” Hodges rasped through clenched teeth.
“Can you tell me why I shouldn’t?”
Hodges laughed shallowly and grimaced in pain, “Probably not. Except you might need me.” Through his grimace, a faint outline of the confident smile returned.
“Need you for what?” Cooper asked, taken off guard by his assertion.
“The Governor,” Hodges answered, his smile turning into a smirk.
“I’m listening.”
“First, the Governor knows you are here. He’s sending men from Salem for you.” Hodges fought for breath before continuing, “Second, you’ve only scratched the surface of the Brushfire Plague. I know so much more. You let me live, I’ll help you avoid the Governor and tell you everything there is to know about the real conspiracy behind the plague.” Despite the obvious pain, his smile kept growing in confidence and contempt as he spoke.
Before he could react, he felt the presence of someone standing over him. He had been badly distracted by Hodges’ talking. He glanced up and was shocked to see Bethany standing over him. She held a bloody knife in one hand and a pistol in the other. She looked at him vacantly. Her eyes were bloodshot, tear-stained. Blood was smeared across the white blouse she was wearing.
“What are you doing…” he began, but his voice trailed off as he saw her look over at where Miles lay. A chill ran down his spine as she looked at her husband vacantly and devoid of reaction.
Her mouth moved automaton-like and her eyebrows furrowed, “There’s nothing left, is there?”
“What do you mean?” Cooper asked.
“Everyone’s dead. Everything’s gone.” Her voice was flat.
“Bethany dear, it will be alright,” Hodges said, offering comfort.
She looked down at him, as if seeing him for the first time. Her eyes grew curious.
Cooper saw the hand holding the pistol move a few inches and she fired before he could react. He looked down in horror at Hodges’ face. A neat hole was quickly pooling with blood where his right eye had been. A second pistol shot and the sound of Bethany’s body falling to the ground sent Cooper over the edge. He scooted himself backward until his feet found the stairs and then he stood awkwardly, backing away from the horrid scene that had just unfolded. His brain struggled to make sense of it all. He could not connect the dots.
Instead, he turned around and focused his attention back towards to Angela and Calvin. He was still hunched over her, so Cooper bounded to her other side, kneeling down when he got there.
“How is she?” He asked. Calvin was pressing a bloodied and makeshift bandage over her right arm.
“She will be alright. I think it passed all the way through.” Calvin was in the process of wrapping the bandage with a strip of his t-shirt that he had torn. Angela’s face was sweaty and pale.
He reached down to stroke her cheek and her eyes fluttered open.
“You’re going to be alright,” he said, offering her a reassuring smile.
“I know,” she responded, her mouth dry. “I’m just resting, waiting for Dr. Little here to finish me up.” She managed a brief smile before a painful grimace forced it away.
He stood up in a daze. His mind raced to absorb what had just happened. His feet were numbly ascending the stairs once more, before he was even aware he was doing so. He plodded forward, step by painful step. He reached the top of the stairs and looked down. Hodges lay before him. The blood had overflowed from his eye socket and had made a neat river down his right cheek and pooled next to his head on the porch. His other eye was staring blankly skyward. Cooper shuddered; it looked so eerie. One side of his head a bloody mess, the other looking as it had in life; untouched and serene.
He could not avert his eyes from Bethany and his gaze slowly drifted to her. Her face looked peaceful in death. Her eyes were narrow slits, like she was about to doze off into a nap. She had landed on her left side. He was thankful the messier exit wound was shielded from him. On the right side of her head, a neat hole was surrounded by powder-burned flesh. Her head lay in a puddle of red, her hair matting in the coagulating blood. The bloody knife was still clutched tightly in her crimson stained left hand, while the pistol had fallen from her right. He looked once more at her placid eyes. The contrast was jarring. A chill ran down his spine and he shivered. Nausea threatened and he breathed deeply to keep it at bay.
Then his eyes went to the door that lay ajar. He knew what awaited him inside the home. Dread washed over him. Unconsciously, he shouldered the FAL and took his pistol out of its holster. He struggled for focus as he entered the home. His effort to clear the living room was lackluster and his legs ambled forward and toward the hallway that most likely led to the bedrooms. His mind called to him to make sure no other threats were in the kitchen or the dining room that lay off to the right, but his body refused him. A door at the end of the hallway beckoned him. The door was open and the doorknob was stained in blood. Muddled and bloody handprints stood out in stark relief on the door’s alabaster paint.
Cooper wanted to turn around and leave. He wanted to desperately avoid seeing what he suspected lay beyond. But, the other part of him had to know, so he staggered onward. His pistol fell to his side.
When he reached the door, he stopped to gather himself. He sucked air in a futile attempt to calm his racing heart. His palms were sweaty and blood rushed into his head. He closed his eyes and then stepped into the room. He opened them reluctantly.
A flood of macabre images assaulted him
. The coppery smell of blood overwhelmed him. He fell to his knees and retched. His hands clasped to his eyes and tears flowed.
“No…no…no,” he mumbled in misery. He shook his head in denial. He did not know how long he remained on his knees, forlorn.
When he lifted his hands from his face and slowly opened his eyes once again, reality still awaited him. Bethany’s children were arrayed neatly on the bed. Their hands were folded on their chests, but tied. Their throats had been slashed and blood had sprayed about. Each child was ghost white. Cooper cursed Bethany for doing such a thing and his mind sought to understand why and how she could kill her own children. Hoping against hope, Cooper forced himself to rise, walk to the bed, and check for any remaining heartbeats.
There were none.
His hand came away blood-stained and he furiously wiped it clean on the bedspread. He was a man possessed until his hand was clean once more. He ripped the closet door open and rifled through it until he found an unused blanket that he used to drape over the children before stumbling from the room.
He re-emerged into the dull gray sunlight and squinted for a moment. Calvin was on the porch, finishing up bandaging Hodges’ wounded men. He stopped when Cooper stepped past the front door. He looked at him expectantly.
“The children,” Cooper whispered, disbelief clouding his words.
Calvin looked confused, but asked nothing else.
“The entire Stott family dead. In one day,” Cooper continued, trying to convince himself that it was real.
Calvin went back to his work, affixing a bandage, and left him in silence. Cooper looked out, past all the death that lay about him, to the tree line that fronted Hodges’ property. The wind blew through them and tall evergreens swayed at their tops in the wind. In shock, his mind drifted. Why can’t I just go walk among those trees? Their sweet smell could erase the stench of blood and gore that is all around me. He spotted a hawk circling just above the trees and was hypnotized by its graceful flight. He followed it as it circled and circled until it suddenly dropped out of sight behind them. That moment catalyzed him. Jake and Dranko.
Brushfire Plague: Reckoning Page 33