Arks of America

Home > Other > Arks of America > Page 33
Arks of America Page 33

by D A Carey


  Vince was pleased that she was taking it with the seriousness it deserved. She didn’t have the giggling attitude, silliness, or condescending attitude he might have expected from another of the Hollywood in crowd.

  They drove off down the road. The group behind them would wait ten to fifteen minutes to leave so as to provide the gap Vince wanted.

  << Ellie >>

  When Ellie saw Liz get in the truck with Vince, she caught her breath for a moment. Aside from some long looks or flirtatious women while they were married, Ellie never had to see another woman take notice of Vince. She surprised herself when she realized she was experiencing a small pang of jealousy about her ex-husband. It was silly, really; she was the one who asked for the divorce. Besides, she was very happy with Malcolm. Vince deserved happiness too, even though it didn’t make sense with someone like Liz Pendleton. She was younger and a movie star.

  After a moment to reflect, Ellie smiled, glad the people around her couldn’t read minds.

  When she was younger, she wouldn’t have had the self-awareness to analyze her feelings and why things bothered her. Liz was a beautiful woman. If truth be told, she was one of the most beautiful in Hollywood. She had the acting skills to match the old silver screen stars. Liz didn’t seem affected by the Hollywood crowd and politics. She was a good person and possessed an array of personal attributes that complemented her acting skills and brought her roles to life.

  Moreover, Ellie knew that Vince was a hard man to get to know. Recognizing that Liz was several years his junior, Ellie decided she was probably only searching for the excitement of riding up front, seeing the action and talking to the expedition leader. She couldn’t possibly be interested in a grumpy old war horse like Vince.

  The more that Ellie thought this through, the more she chuckled inwardly. If Liz did have a thought of a walk on the wild side with an old soldier, two or three hours in a truck with Vince would solve that. She was certain Vince would never fool around while on a mission. When he was bored or had too much time on his hands, well, that was different. On a mission, he could be short tempered and cantankerous. For sure his political views and values wouldn’t mesh with those Hollywood people. Vince was an attractive man in his way, though not in the category that Liz was used to in Hollywood. The thought of those two with their diverse ages and world views trapped in a car together and the resulting bickering nearly made Ellie laugh out loud. She didn’t think Liz and he could have anything in common. In another time and place and with another type of lady, Vince could and would pour on the charm to rival many Hollywood players. Just not here and now and with Liz Pendleton.

  It was very attractive in its own primal way for a woman to have a man like Vince around. It was just damn hard to live with as a mate. At heart, Vince was a romantic and as tender hearted as anyone she’d known. However, getting him to share that side of himself and trust someone was not an easy task. Vince carried too much on his mind from the wars and was too much of an alpha male to be the type of husband a woman needed when there wasn’t a war to fight.

  There was a chasm of difference between how Vince felt love and what he thought of as hunting or sport. When Vince killed one buck or played one golf course well, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t want to try and take down a bigger buck or play a harder golf course. She finally grew tired of waiting for him to grow out of this need for conquest.

  After the divorce and marrying Malcolm, Ellie was able to assess who Vince was more dispassionately from a distance. Something inside of a man like Vince craved the hunt and needed that validation. While she was sure he’d loved her then and still did today, she was also aware there were times in his life when he was driven by the need to hunt. The right words and charm were much like putting out food plots or scent trails to attract deer. For him, sex was like the moment when a well-placed shot brings down a ten-point buck. At that moment, he was alive and primal. Ellie had gotten over her judgment of who Vince was during their marriage, because she had moved on and was happy.

  Despite knowing these things about Vince now in an intellectual way, that didn’t mean Ellie could live with it daily. It took a toll on a woman to wonder each day where his mind was, if he was bored or wanted more or was unsettled. That restlessness was alien to her as a woman. She wondered for a moment whether she should warn Liz away from him, then with a wry smile decided not to. Not because she was jealous, but because it would be a very awkward conversation coming from an ex-wife. By expressing out loud or assuming that a young Hollywood beauty would have a romantic interest in an older man like Vince would make Ellie feel more embarrassed than Liz. Besides, Liz was a confident, self-assured adult. She could protect herself emotionally if she did decide to pursue him.

  << Levi >>

  Levi was usually one of the first up before the sun crept over the horizon. This morning he woke to a home that was already full of activity even though the sun wasn’t fully up.

  Cami smiled when he walked into the kitchen. “Would you like some coffee?”

  Levi gratefully accepted and sipped the coffee. “Do you know where Greg is?”

  “He wanted to feed the cattle and check on things before we get going. He didn’t want to wake you. He’ll feel better knowing everything is done before we go. You were so tired we wanted to let you rest. We know you city boys keep different hours than we do here.”

  “I should’ve gotten up earlier. I don’t usually sleep this late,” Levi said, feeling a bit embarrassed.

  Cami was smiling with a cheerful energy for this early in the morning. “It’s okay. We knew you came a long way and probably had jet lag. No telling how much you needed to do to get ready for the trip.”

  “Thanks,” Levi responded, still not feeling better about it.

  “Besides, when you live on a farm, these are normal hours. People are used to it.”

  Levi grimaced. He wanted to talk about the early hours of a Special Forces soldier, although he was fairly certain the point he might have made didn’t sound as valid under the current circumstances. He got a quick breakfast from Cami, then went out to find Greg. A few of Greg’s friends were outside working around the house; others were at the barn with the cattle or in the garden. A friend of Greg’s directed Levi to a large red tractor. Greg was moving a round bale of hay to a field with the cattle. A couple of the men were carrying rifles. Others wore holstered handguns on their hips.

  When Levi got close, Greg stopped the tractor and shut it off so they could speak.

  “I hate to push you, Greg,” Levi said, “but will we be leaving soon?”

  “Heck yeah!” Greg said with that familiar smile he and Cami shared in common. “I wanted to feed my cattle, and you needed your rest. I’m about done here, so we can leave soon.”

  “Thanks. Is there anything I can do to help?”

  “Nah, I don’t want you to get hurt. Besides, we’re pretty close to being done.”

  Levi grimaced again. This farming work could hurt a man’s ego if you let it. Even though he was from New York City, he was still a trained Israeli Special Forces soldier and had no reason to be afraid of cattle and farm equipment. He turned to head back.

  It was at that second, inches behind him, he heard the loudest, ghastly sound that could only be described as a huge, breathy anguished ehhhhhh ahhhhhh followed by several short ahhh’s. To Levi, it sounded like a deathly animalistic screech that could have been heard for a mile. Hearing it from less than two feet away about made him dive for cover like a mortar round landing close to him. If his boots hadn’t been laced tight, he might have jumped out of them.

  During his talk with Greg, a cow must have slipped up close behind him. Levi decided to stick to combat and leave farming to the professionals. He stomped back to the house to pack for the trip, trying to ignore the poorly concealed laughter of the men around him.

  ***

  When Greg got back to the house, Levi asked, “Why are all the men carrying guns? Have you had much trouble?”

/>   “Nahh,” Greg said. “It’s only that it’s better to be prepared just in case. Jim is over yonder talking to some of the other men from my church group. He knows of some people who’ve been broken into or killed. My farm is too remote to worry much.”

  “Makes sense.”

  “Jim is a detective from Shelbyville, and a couple of the others are former soldiers. They insist it would be a shame to let people think we were soft or easy targets in the unlikely event they do come this way.”

  “Are you worried about leaving your farm to take me to Carrollton?” Levi asked.

  “Nope. These men are better fighters and shooters than me. We’re all in a men’s church group together. A few of them are living here with me till this all blows over. They’ll keep it safe.”

  “What if it doesn’t blow over?”

  “Then I guess I have permanent roommates,” Greg said with his trademark huge smile. “It always does blow over eventually though, doesn’t it?”

  “Until the day it doesn’t,” Levi said under his breath.

  Greg didn’t hear the last part. “Cami should have some snacks ready for us. Then we can get on the road.”

  Approaching Safety

  “Betrayal is common for men with no conscience.”

  - Toba Beta

  << Vince >>

  Vince was on edge, partially because he felt responsible for Liz, though mostly because he preferred working alone. She was beautiful, and he was a grizzled middle-aged veteran and divorcee. Being around her made him feel backwards and self-conscious.

  To his surprise, the trip went without incident. They saw farmhouses that appeared occupied and people working the fields. A man on a bypass crossed their path going the opposite direction. They passed a few people walking who reminded Vince of the tired, dispirited people he’d seen in third world countries. It was disheartening to see it here in the heart of America.

  What surprised Vince even more was the conversation. Liz had a way of asking innocuous questions that were easy for him to answer. She easily kept the conversation going, all while scanning for threats and taking her shotgun rider role seriously. He didn’t feel peppered with questions, nor did he feel like she was rattling on about all manner of things that didn’t have any relevance to their situation. The conversation was easy, fun, and germane. When he paused to think about it, Vince thought that in talking to her he probably revealed more about himself to her than he had to anyone in a long time. He hadn’t meant to share that much and was surprised he didn’t feel self-conscious about it either.

  << Liz >>

  Liz always thought that a huge factor in her success as an actress was her understanding of people at a very basic level. She loved people for all their qualities, flaws and all.

  Liz loved the old fishermen on the dock in San Francisco. She loved the oil tycoon’s wife and the immigrant who cleaned offices at night, not on a personal level but as real “people,” who had a story and minute mannerisms that differentiated them from all others. She was a collector of stories, mannerisms, and a mimic of many of those personalities and traits. When she was in front of the camera, she drew on those people and collected back stories and behaviors to quilt together a performance that met the writer’s expectation. Liz possessed a special skill to combine the words given to her by an author and the character she created from her collection into a believable and three-dimensional performance for the theatergoer.

  She had always done this naturally. She didn’t know how other actors did it. She didn’t ask. It was a very private part of who she was. A few years back, she read a quote from Clint Eastwood that made her feel validated in the way she did this. “You spend your life training to be an actor, observing people’s characteristics so that you can design characters around what you’ve seen.”

  Vince was different than most any other man she’d met. Each time she expected his story to go one way, his answer would surprise her. When she thought she had him pegged, something different would come out. She tried to shock him or get a rise out of him with a few statements, and his responses were not what she expected. The same held true for his mannerisms, which were one way when around his daughter, another around the men, and totally different when scanning for trouble. His whole persona could change at a moment’s notice with no residual trace of who he had been a moment before.

  Liz took note that those mannerisms were different when he was alone with her rather than when he was around the others. She was sure he didn’t even notice he was acting differently. Vince might be a good poker player, but he had some very strong “tells” that Liz was quick to pick up on. Occasionally, he would even relax, as if he was about to flirt. Then at a moment’s notice it was as if a shield came up and he would be all business.

  Although she experienced way too much death and chaos on this trip, right now it was fun. As she leaned back in her seat and smiled, she saw him raise an eyebrow and glance at her quizzically.

  << Ellie >>

  As they got closer to French Lick, Malcolm said to Ellie, “We’re going through gas faster than I planned. If I’m running low, the others must be as well.”

  “Are we going to run out?” Ellie asked, almost frantic. “Do we need to stop?”

  “No,” Malcolm said, sorry he brought it up. “We probably have enough. I’m going to shut off everything we don’t need, though, and drive at a slow, steady pace to conserve fuel.”

  “Should we call Vince?” Ellie regretted saying it the moment the words left her mouth.

  “No, we’re okay for now. Vince wants only essential radio transmissions. If things get worse later, then I’ll do something.”

  When Malcolm slowed, the other cars followed suit. It wasn’t long before they came to the edge of the town of West Baden Springs. From a previous radio transmission, they were aware Vince was hiding in an alley and waiting for them to pass by going into town. He instructed them to bunch together, move faster, and have their guns ready when they went through congested areas.

  In addition to being low on fuel, the van started running rough a few miles before reaching West Baden. Although Malcolm wasn’t sure if it was the low fuel or some other mechanical problem, the end result was the same. When he accelerated a short way inside the city limits, the van sputtered and lost power. He scanned the area, searching for a good place to pull over. They were near a store whose sign advertised both fireworks and gun sales, of all things.

  Vince had told him that if they had all been soldiers, they would have kept the convoy going and dealt with a stalled vehicle later. This was different. The van carried the very people and supplies they wanted to save.

  Malcolm let the van coast to a stop in the store’s parking lot while flashing his lights at the other cars. The other vehicles hastily pulled off in order to protect Malcolm’s van and the people in it. While Malcolm was stressed about the vehicle giving out, he hooted at the irony of a store that sold both fireworks and guns. Perhaps it was stress catching up with him. He burst out laughing, and Ellie stared at him as if he’d lost his mind. He wasn’t paying attention to Ellie but rather the silly sign and the store that had been looted and burned. Guns and Fireworks!

  Vince circled back to the group. They hastily began moving the gear and supplies to the other vehicles so they could make it to Gus’s place. While they were doing that, they began taking rifle fire from a distance. Vince was pretty sure it wasn’t a heavy caliber round. He thought it might have been a .556 from an AR rifle. He was sure it wasn’t the subsonic sound of a 9 MM, and it didn’t have the deeper sound of a .308, 30-30 or .30-06. It didn’t matter. If a round hit a person, the results were bad either way. The shots appeared to be coming from the parking lot of a visitor’s center at the entrance to the West Baden Springs Hotel and Arboretum. Everyone was quick to get behind something solid. Andy and Dwight returned fire to make the shooter keep his head down. Vince couldn’t tell if this was a serious threat they needed to fort up and go handle or if it was some local t
hug taking a few potshots. In the interest of speed, he decided to escape and evade this time. They needed to get to Gus’s. It would be foolish to stop and engage the shooter. Right now, the shots were not accurate or well-aimed. That would change if they didn’t get a move on soon.

  Andy and Dwight fired a few more retaliatory shots back at the visitor’s center to make the shooter duck and give him something to think about. They threw the last items in the truck and got moving fast. Vince led them through a zigzag course of the narrow streets of French Lick, the gunfire fading behind them.

  The part of Vince that was a soldier and a dad wanted to go back and find the shooter. Something about that didn’t feel random. Still, his first priority was the group. His personal agenda would need to wait.

  << Malik >>

  Malik pulled his knife out of his own gang member’s body. He’d stabbed him below the rib on the back right side. Dark red blood poured from his kidney. Malik’s other hand was on the hot barrel of the rifle to keep it pointed in a safe direction as the man died.

  “Man, what’d you do that for?” one of the other men said. “They were broke down. We had ’em!”

  “We didn’t have ’em!” Malik shouted, spittle running from the corner of his mouth that had been so cool and calculating a moment earlier. “The most we coulda done is hurt some of ’em and take some of their stuff. That’s not my plan! Besides…” He left a long pause, staring them down. “I didn’t give the order, and I’m in charge here!” His voice became loud and shrill at the end.

  ***

  Most of the remaining gang members snuck out in the night to head back to Chicago. Only Malik’s trusted lieutenant remained with him. Tidwell Smith, whom everyone called Tid, was a small man with a potbelly, and sneaky. It was Tidwell that Malik was sticking up for those many years ago in juvie when he killed his first man. Malik preferred the story that he was a crazed killer instead of sticking up for a friend, and Tid played right along.

 

‹ Prev