“That’s why we’re staying on the back roads,” Jacob pointed out. “We sleep in the saddle and keep riding...and riding...and riding.”
“Yeah,” Alvin said, feeling uneasy. In the darkness, travel was safe. Come daylight, Alvin didn’t know what would happen. Sure, there were good people bonding together that wouldn’t hurt a soul; people hidden in their homes and basements, people hidden inside churches, school gyms, hospitals and other public places that offer a sense of protection and security. There were also looters, gangs, and killers in the form of rabid wolves. All roaming about everywhere.
Not only that, Alvin thought, there’s the problem with cops.
A national curfew went into immediate effect when a major disaster struck. There were probably some cowboy cops still active and very determined to uphold the law. As if cops weren’t bad enough when the juice was on, now there were gonna be cops with trigger-happy fingers. They’d be willing to shoot anybody down for just being outside of their homes. Jacob had warned that it wouldn’t be long before the military started conducting foot patrols in order to assist the local police. Of course, Jacob had emphasized that wouldn’t happen for weeks. Most soldiers were probably more worried about finding their families than honoring their uniform. It would take a while to organize a mature military, an internal military that lacked communication and force.
“We’ll keep riding, my friend, and pray for the best.”
Holding onto her horse with all of her might, Jessica grew silent for a bit. She was thinking about what America had been reduced to, and what the nation might become. If she failed to reach President Green in time, the Chinese would surely carry out their intended attack. They would completely destroy America, go to war with Russia…and possibly win.
Then what? Would China become the world power, controlling the world in the form of a cruel dictator?
Jessica wasn’t certain but assumed the word freedom would not be allowed to be part of China’s global agenda. But what if Russia somehow won the war? Would the world be any better? And what would become of America, the America Jessica had been born and raised in? Married in? What would happen to the America she loved? Would the country become one giant prison? Jessica feared the answer was yes.
“Jack, can your virus really alter the path that has already been designed?” she whispered in a shaky voice. “Can four people really prevent a country like China or Russia from attacking?” Jessica felt a sense of hopelessness rise in her heart. But as soon as the hopelessness appeared, a warmth slapped it away.
You found my virus. Keep fighting. You must reach the President.
“Oh, Jack,” Jessica whispered, shivering all over as a wonderful strength swam up from under the currents of doubt. “Alright, Jack. I’ll reach the President. I promise.”
Tom glanced at Jessica through the darkness and then forward into the dark snow. He knew everyone was lost in their own thoughts and didn’t want to interfere by speaking. Yet, he knew Jessica needed spoken to.
“Mrs. Mayes, I want you to come and live with me,” he said in a careful voice. “I want you to stay with me at the church.”
“I assumed,” Jessica told Tom in a loving voice. “I will do as you ask of me.”
“I made your husband a promise.”
“I know,” Jessica nodded her head. “Pastor Braston, I feel a deep connection to you. When this is over, I want you at my side. I will need you at my side,” she explained. “I haven’t had the proper time to grieve over my husband, to mourn. I also haven’t had the proper time to understand any of this. Also,” Jessica added, her voice becoming troubled, “I killed a man, Pastor Braston.”
“In self-defense—”
“Perhaps, but I still killed a man,” Jessica said in a miserable voice. “I’m so sorry. I never meant to harm that man. I was so angry that I lost my mind, really. I barely remember any of the fight. All I remember is shooting a gun.” Sorrow and anger flooded Jessica’s heart. “Pastor Braston, I’m not a killer. Will God ever forgive me?”
“He already has,” Tom promised in a supportive voice. “You did so for a cause. A good cause, just as Jacob and Alvin were forced to kill. Not in the name of evil, but in the name of truth. Sometimes, Mrs. Mayes, a person is forced to make that stand.”
Jessica thought about Tom’s words, and then grew silent again. After about ten minutes, she said, “My husband would never have believed that I was capable of harming an ant, Pastor Braston. What would he think?”
Tom wasn’t certain how to answer. Jessica answered for him. “My husband would wonder who he’d married.”
“We’re all forced to change, Mrs. Mayes, in order to survive.”
Jessica glanced over at Tom with sad eyes. “I don’t want to change, Pastor Braston. I was content with my life; my married life, my husband, and who I was. I feel, through each passing second, as if I’m being murdered right before my eyes. I feel as if a great crime has been committed against me, and it isn’t fair.”
“No, Mrs. Mayes, it isn’t,” Tom agreed in a sad voice.
Jessica studied the dark snow. “And now,” she added, “millions of innocent people, the people who still want to make America great, are seeing their lives destroyed right before their eyes. That isn’t fair, either.”
“No, it isn’t,” Tom agreed. “However, Mrs. Mayes, please keep in mind that God does judge a wicked nation.”
“But—” Jessica began to object.
“‘And I heard another voice from heaven, saying, ‘Come out of her, my people, that ye be not partakers of her sins, and that ye receive not of her plagues’,” Tom said, reciting a vital Bible verse. “America was given time to repent and turn from her sins, but she did not,” he continued. “Now, we are far from the events told in Chapter Eighteen of Revelation, Mrs. Mayes, but as you can see, a wicked nation does get punished by a loving God. Perhaps this is America’s last chance to repent before it’s too late. As far as the innocent, did the innocent not have a voice to stand against the wickedness which America has become?”
“Yes,” Jessica nodded her head, grateful for Tom’s wisdom and experience. “We’re all guilty, Pastor Braston. We all share the same house—America—and have allowed her to become an abomination.”
“Yes, Mrs. Mayes, we are all guilty, including me,” Tom agreed. “But when a country repents, there is hope. Although millions will die, there is hope. In the end, when the storm clouds part, the good will step forward. The evil will be left in the shadows to die; at least, for a time being.”
“I pray that’s true, Pastor Braston,” Jessica told Tom in a desperate voice. “I pray that America does repent. That we can rebuild, and that my husband’s work wasn’t in vain. That our work isn’t in vain.”
“Me, too,” Mrs. Mayes,” Tom replied, and then looked at her with loving eyes. “I’ll stop talking now and let you think about your husband.”
“Okay,” Jessica agreed, and allowed her thoughts to find Jack standing on a warm, tropical beach. “I’m fighting, honey. Please, don’t leave me. I’m so scared, but I won’t stop fighting.”
((((((((((*))))))))))
Daylight arrived.
Like outlaws hunting for a bank to rob, the four carefully rode into a small town called Iyanville. At least that’s how it seemed to those who were watching them. The road Tom guided Jacob to travel on went straight through Iyanville. There was no turning left or right. Stepping off into the woods to circle the town would take far too long. The proverbial clock was ticking.
“Seems silent,” Alvin said, studying a small snow-covered town square which consisted of single-story brick buildings that housed antique shops. “We’ll just keep moving through this snow.”
“Slow and easy,” Jacob ordered, studying the town square with cautious eyes. Using his small supply of energy, he reached his right hand into the pocket of his coat to check his gun. He spotted a few snowy vehicles parked in front of the single-story building
s but didn’t see a single human being. “Iyanville is a small town.”
“A family town,” Tom pointed out, glancing around. “I’ve visited Iyanville on many occasions. I have a good friend who lives here.”
“Then why does the air feel so creepy?” Alvin asked. A horrible knot was forming in his gut. He had to resist the urge to pull out his gun, as he ordered, “Just keep moving, horse.”
Jessica struggled to keep her sleep-deprived eyes open, as she looked around the cozy town square. Surely, she thought, there was no danger present. If Iyanville was a family town, like Tom claimed, then it was possible that everyone was hunkered down safely in their homes, or standing outside around a fire, in order to have some coffee and breakfast. Jessica didn’t see any danger in the town. All she saw was a cozy, snow-covered town square that she and her husband would have explored on one of their outings.
“Jack and I usually traveled north. I’ve never taken this road before,” she spoke up. “I’ve never visited Iyanville, but it seems very lovely.”
Alvin wasn’t so certain. Jacob quickly read his friend’s worry. “What is it, Alvin?”
“My gut is telling me we need to get out of here,” Alvin explained in a worried voice. He moved his tired horse around the town square as easy as possible, trotting past cold, dark buildings. They seemed to be concealing a deadly virus, waiting to expose itself.
“Everyone, give your horse a kick. Let’s pick up some speed,” Jacob ordered, grateful that Alvin was still guiding his horse.
“Give me the reign,” Tom ordered Jessica in a quick voice, “and hold on tight.”
Jessica did as Tom ordered, and then leaned down and grabbed the mane attached to her frozen horse. Tom nodded his head and gave his horse a stern kick.
“Get moving, boy!” he ordered.
The horse let out a little pained snort, but obeyed Tom’s order and broke into a steady run. Alvin nodded his head and ordered his horse into a run. As he did, the door of an antique shop flew open. Four men carrying street guns burst out and began shooting at the horses.
“Go!” Tom yelled and began kicking his horse.
Jacob pulled out his gun and turned in his saddle. The four men were chasing after the horses, as they shot wildly into the snow. Jacob struggled to return fire. Having one hand attached to a tired arm, shooting at what appeared to be four bikers wasn’t a simple task. He was still in good shape and full of health, thought. Jacob managed to shoot one of the bikers; a man wearing a black leather jacket, sunglasses and a black biker’s helmet. The other three bikers, seeing the bullet enter their friend’s chest threw themselves down into the snow. Two crawled behind a fancy blue SUV and continued firing at the horses.
A biker name Reed Oswell, a vicious man who claimed to be soulless aimed his gun directly at Jessica’s horse and fired off three shoots. Two of the bullets struck the back right leg of Jessica’s horse. The horse let out a miserable cry and crashed down into the snow, throwing Jessica off its back, as if the woman were a rag doll. Jessica felt her body hit the snowy ground, landing hard on her right shoulder. She nearly passed out.
“Pastor, take Jacob!” Alvin yelled, throwing himself off his horse. He ran to Jessica and scooped her up into his arms, as bullets whizzed around his head. “You’re riding with me.” he yelled, as he raced back to his horse. He hauled Jessica onto the back end, then jumped up into the saddle and gave the horse a kick to its flanks while yelling, “Get!”
The horse took off like lightning, running for its life.
Reed Oswell quickly rammed another clip into his gun and shot directly at Alvin and Jessica. He didn’t care who they were. He was just determined to kill his victims, but in his madness, he completely ignored the zing from bullets that Jacob was firing at him.
“Die!” he yelled, shooting like a crazed mad man. “You’re all going to—”
Jacob shot him straight through the chest, but not before one of his bullets raced over Jessica’s hunched shoulder and struck Alvin, nearly throwing the man from his horse.
Alvin felt the bullet enter his right shoulder and then exit. The pain was intense, but he managed to hold on and race his horse down a snowy street, leading south out of Iyanville. He didn’t stop until Tom yelled at him that they were safe. Alvin threw his head back and was shocked to see that there was nothing but snowy woods standing behind him.
“You’re hurt,” Jessica cried.
“My...right shoulder,” Alvin nodded his head, fighting back pain. “We gotta keep moving. Ain’t got no time to stop. Those guys will be after us.”
Tom let go of Jacob’s horse and trotted up to Alvin. “Mrs. Mayes, get on,” he ordered and, with a great deal of effort, helped Jessica transfer horses. “Alvin—”
“I can ride, Pastor,” Alvin promised, examining the bullet wound with his left hand. He felt blood but not enough to panic over. “We gotta keep moving.”
Jacob urged his horse up to Alvin. “Let me see your wound,” he ordered Alvin in a gentle voice. “Please, my friend, let me check you. You were very brave back there. Please.”
Alvin shared a deep love with Jacob, like that of two brothers. He nodded his head and gave Jacob a few seconds to check his bullet wound. He winced, as Jacob examined the wound. “Well?”
“Entry and exit point, but you have an ugly wound,” Jacob informed Alvin. “Pastor, get the rubbing alcohol and first aid kid out of your saddle bag.” Tom quickly did as Jacob asked. “Alvin, we have to get you bandaged up.”
“Hurry,” Alvin begged, checking the snowy woods. “Those bikers...I recognized the jackets they were wearing.”
“The Red Widows,” Jacob nodded his head. “Pastor, get this man bandaged up, and hurry.”
“Of course,” Tom assured Jacob and went to work with quick, steady hands. “I need you to unzip your coat and pull up your sweater.” Alvin hesitated, and then did as asked. Tom patted the man with a steady hand and then started his work.
“Who are the Red Widows?” Jessica dared to ask, feeling her heart racing, as if she had run a marathon.
“A group of bikers that the Department of Homeland Security has marked as domestic terrorists,” Jacob explained, studying the empty road behind him.
“Killers,” Alvin pointed out in a painful voice, as Tom poured alcohol over his bullet wound. “Rats who work for the highest bidder and kill for pennies. I had a run in with one of them a few years back in Memphis. It made me grateful to live around my own gang of infested rats.”
“They must have been in this area when the EMP attack happened,” Jacob pointed out. “They probably wanted our horses.” Jacob kept his eyes on the snowy road and waited for Tom to finish bandaging Alvin’s bullet wound. “Ready?”
“Can you zip me up, Tom, then I’ll be ready,” he nodded his head, feeling as if he needed to vomit. Alvin looked at Jessica and shook his head. “Don’t look at me like I’m some kind of hero.”
Jessica reached out her right hand and tenderly wrapped it around Alvin’s left arm. “I see a lot of my husband in you, Alvin,” she said, her voice uttering a deep truth that calmed Alvin’s racing heart. “When this war is finished, you will carry on in his name.”
Jacob felt a strange jealousy overcome him. Sure, Alvin had risked his life to save Jessica, but Jacob had provided cover fire in order for the rescue to be a success. But why? Why allow jealousy to enter his heart? Jacob had no romantic interest in Jessica Mayes. She was a grieving widow, and he respected that. Yet, the feeling of jealousy was obviously present, and he didn’t understand why.
“Alvin, can you ride?”
“I’m already moving,” Alvin told Jacob. Using his left hand to hold the reign to his horse while he allowed his right arm to rest on his lap, he got moving.
“Hold on, Mrs. Mayes,” Tom told Jessica after he put the bottle of rubbing alcohol and first aid kit back in his saddle bag. “I know you’re not very comfortable, but we have no other choice but to ri
de this way.”
“I’ll be okay,” Jessica promised, and then looked at Jacob. He was studying the snowy road. She asked him, “Are we in the clear?”
“I don’t see anyone,” Jacob answered, and then ordered his horse to get moving. “We need to keep moving. Come on.”
Tom allowed Alvin and Jacob to get ahead of his horse a few paces, and then settled his horse into a slow, but steady run. “Are you okay, Mrs. Mayes.”
Jessica held on to Tom’s waist like a drowning woman and began wondering how she was going to ride all the way to President Green’s location on the back of a horse. There was no way she could possibly do it. First, she was suffering from sleep deprivation, as was Tom, Alvin and Jacob. Second, there would be a need to stop and eat, drink water, and use the restroom. And third, there was no way possible her body was going to be able to sit on the back of a horse in her exhausted condition.
You have to fight a strong, powerful voice insisted. You have to hold on!
As soon as the voice spoke to Jessica, warm strength flooded her entire body. As if someone had thrown a bucket of cold water onto her face, while forcing thirty cups of coffee down her throat, Jessica was suddenly very much awake and able to hold her arms around Tom’s waist without feeling exhausted.
Tom felt strength enter Jessica’s arms. As soon as he did, he felt as if someone inserted the strength of ten men into his own body.
“The Lord is with us, Mrs. Mayes,” he whispered in a peaceful voice. “The Lord will never leave us or forsake us.”
“Yes, I feel the Lord,” Jessica whispered back in a calm voice. She placed her head down on Tom’s back and closed her eyes, allowing the heavily falling snow to touch her face. And then, before Jessica realized it, she dropped off into a heavy, deep sleep. It was as if someone robbed her of the same thirty cups of coffee, yet secured her arms to form an invisible belt around Tom’s waist.
Green File Crime Thrillers Box Set Page 44