by Hunt, Jack
He wiped sweat from his brow and tossed a screwdriver down.
Through the forest he saw black cars with dark-tinted windows and pimped-out rims.
He wiped his hands with a rag from his back pocket and squinted. Would they drive past? A moment or two and he saw them veer into the driveway.
Andre grabbed up his AR-15 and dashed into the house to collect more ammo.
He could have run, hidden, but letting them take the recent supplies was not an option. Although he hadn’t seen the occupants, he already had a good idea who they were. He and Garcia had discussed what might happen if and when 18th Street showed up. He just didn’t figure it would be this soon. How had they found them?
None of that mattered now. He locked the door and placed boxes of ammo beside each of the windows. He already had a magazine in. He chambered a round and set the rifle down, then shifted a heavy dresser drawer behind the door and took up a spot near a window out of sight.
A minute or two passed.
Doors slammed.
“Garcia. You in there?” a voice cried out.
There was no point in staying quiet as they would only force their way in.
“He’s not here!” Andre bellowed out. He peered through the pane of glass and watched as the crew spread out, all heavily armed.
“Where is he?”
“No idea.”
“Then we’ll wait until he returns.”
“You’re trespassing. Get back in your vehicles and get off my property.”
The guy who was doing all the talking turned and a kid appeared at his side. “Tate,” Andre said under his breath. “Bastard.” The guy forced Tate forward to let him speak.
“Hey, uh, Liam. Can I talk to you?”
Rats. How had they got their hands on him?
Did he want to tell them that Liam wasn’t here? No. The less they knew, the better. If they learned that he was alone, that would only work to his detriment. “Get off this property now. I won’t warn you again.”
The group feathered out, some crossing the threshold and getting dangerously close to… He’d barely had the thought when one of the guys fell into a hole they’d dug in the ground. Impaled on upright, sharpened sticks, he let out an excruciating cry followed by cursing. Then a barrage of gunfire erupted, peppering the walls and showering him with glass, and splinters of wood. He stayed low until it was over.
But it wouldn’t be over, at least not until he was dead.
21
There was no sign of her.
Ready to leave, Alex waited outside for Sophie and Ryan. Thomas sat on the steps, picking at the wood and looking depressed. While he hadn’t questioned his reasons for leaving, it was clear he didn’t want to go. Who would? They had everything here. Food, fresh water, shelter, beauty, privacy and the word of a man who had yet to fail them. In many ways it was the perfect settlement to ride out this shitstorm, but for Alex, too many things weren’t adding up.
While they were waiting, a plume of dust billowed up behind a Jeep as Star returned.
“Finally. I thought for a moment we’d have to leave Meadow behind.”
Thomas shook his head. “I still think that she’s playing you.”
“We’ll see.” Alex stepped away from the steps and adjusted his backpack on his shoulder. The Jeep slowed down and veered in front. Star hopped out with three other people but Meadow wasn’t one of them.
“Where is she?”
Star was unloading a box of cans from the trunk when he asked.
“Who?”
“Meadow.”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. She didn’t go with us.”
He raised a finger. “No. One of the women told me she saw her leave with you this morning.”
Star shook her head as she juggled the box over to a young guy who took it inside. “No. It was only me. I brought a few people back but that’s it.”
“What room is she in?”
“Twelve but you can’t go up there. That’s…”
Alex turned and ignored her as he hurried into the mansion and made his way past the winding wooden staircase. He went to room twelve and banged on the door. Star wasn’t far behind him. “Alex.”
“Meadow. You in there?”
A few other girls came out of their rooms to see what all the fuss was about.
“She might be working in the fields.”
“Can you find her?”
“Why?”
“That’s between me and her.”
Star frowned raising a hand. “Okay. I’ll go and see.”
As Alex turned to head back to the main foyer, several of Abner’s followers lingered in the doorway of rooms, staring at him. The longer he was there, the stranger it felt. There was something very off about them but he couldn’t put his finger on it. Maybe the clothes, the adoration for one man. If he wasn’t mistaken, it had a very David Koresh feel to it. Back outside, he noticed Ryan and Sophie still hadn’t come out.
“Have you seen them?” he asked Thomas.
“Nope.”
He was losing his patience and fast. Making his way up to the second level he went down to Ryan’s room only to find him inside schmoozing with some girl on the bed. “What part of we are leaving did you not understand?”
“Sophie said she’s staying. I thought she told you.”
“She did. I didn’t expect her to follow through. Where is she?”
Ryan swung his legs off the bed. The girl beneath the sheets covered herself up, she was partially nude. “The last time I saw her she said she was heading to Abner’s office.”
“Which is where?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“Get your shit together. We are leaving.”
“Alex.”
“Now or I’m leaving you here.”
Back on the main floor he asked a woman where the office was and she pointed to a small cabin perched up on a hill overlooking the valley. He could see several ATVs parked out front. He left his backpack with Thomas and jogged up. As he was getting closer, two hulking guys sitting on a porch rocker rose and blocked his entrance.
“I’m here to get my wife.”
“She’s busy right now. Abner doesn’t want any interruptions.”
“Really?” He went to move past them but they put out a hand to stop him.
“So that’s how it is?” he asked.
They stared blankly back at him. Alex nodded slowly a few times then turned as if he was about to leave. The second they turned their backs to return to the rocker, he burst past them and entered the cabin. There was Sophie, lying on a brown leather couch, while Abner was seated in an armchair nearby, his legs crossed and a pad of paper in hand. It looked like a therapy session. The cabin wasn’t large. There was a mahogany desk in the corner, a rifle and a deer’s head on the wall, multiple photos of Abner and his followers and a library of books against the wall. Startled by the intrusion, both of them looked at him.
“Sorry, Abner, we tried to stop him.”
“That’s fine, Eric. Come on in, Alex.”
Alex looked back at the two guys as they closed the door behind him.
“I was just working with Sophie here.”
“Yeah? With what?”
“Healing through hypnosis.”
“Hypnosis? Huh. Well that explains a lot. Is that what you did for a living before this event?”
Abner smiled. “Come, take a seat. Can I get you some coffee?”
“No, we’re leaving.”
Sophie slung her feet off the edge of the couch and placed them firmly on the floor. “I’m staying, Alex. At least for a few days.”
Abner remained quiet as he continued to fill his cup with coffee.
Alex took hold of Sophie’s arm. “How about we have this conversation outside?”
“Anything you need to say can be said here. It’s a safe place,” Abner said turning toward them. He took a sip of his drink.
“I appreciate that but this is between u
s.”
“Sophie?” Abner asked.
She looked back at Alex and pulled her arm back. “I’m staying.”
“Yeah? What about Elisha?”
“It’s been a week, Alex. I’m sure if she survived a week, she can hold out for a few more days. It’s not like we’ll be there tomorrow.”
“We might if we get on the road. There are roughly twelve hundred miles remaining. Nineteen hours tops. If we don’t stop we could get there within a day’s drive.”
“What’s an extra seventy-two hours then?” Abner asked, taking a seat and crossing his legs looking all smug.
“It’s not your daughter.”
“No it’s not but doesn’t Sophie have a say in the matter? She’s making such good progress here, aren’t you, Sophie?”
She offered back a strained smile.
Alex wasn’t sure what niggled him more — that smug expression on Abner’s face or the fact that so many had bought into his shit.
His thoughts shifted to Meadow, and that barn. What was he hiding? Perhaps staying one more night might allow him a chance to see what was really going on here, maybe he could expose this man for who he was — a cult leader, a manipulator. Arrogant. Haughty. A real piece of work.
“A few more days then we’ll leave. I promise,” Sophie said.
Alex balled his fists. “Fine. Two days but that’s it.”
22
Guilt. Travis had been unable to live with what he’d done. If his suicide note was to be believed, he hadn’t killed his grandfather. Hell, by the sounds of it he’d already hung himself before his grandfather died. A line in the note was made out to Harry, explaining his role in his grandmother’s death, and apologizing.
His only crime was getting involved with a sordid group of meth heads, desperate people who would have done anything for their next hit. After cutting Travis down and burying him in the backyard, Elisha returned to find Liam sitting at the table with his head in his hands. The note in front of him was drenched in tears. She placed a hand on his shoulder, and squeezed it.
“I should have stayed,” Liam said. “I didn’t listen. I…”
“Liam, you did what anyone would have done. You didn’t know this would happen any more than America knew it would come under attack.”
“It was all there. The signs. The way he was before I headed off to join the Coast Guard. The depression. The lack of purpose. The inability to think he couldn’t do better than this.” He shook his head and wiped his red eyes. “I should have stayed.” He sighed.
Garcia entered the kitchen.
“If he didn’t take Harry’s supplies, who did?” Elisha asked.
Liam lifted his eyes. “Probably the same meth heads Travis was involved with.”
“What about Tate and Joe?” Garcia asked.
“No. They wouldn’t do it. They hung on Travis’ every word. Followed him around like puppies.”
“Then how did he end up here without them?”
Elisha took a seat. “Maybe they knew something. Maybe they screwed him over?”
Liam looked up, a frown forming. “Joe doesn’t live far from here.”
“Well, we have two choices,” Garcia said. “We can go back to the cabin, stay there and ride this out, or we can go and find who took the supplies and get them back. We sure as hell could use them. If this event lasts longer than six months we’ll need more.”
Liam rose and scooped up the suicide note and slipped it into his pocket. He slung his AR-15 over his shoulder and led them out.
“What about his mother?” Garcia asked. “We should leave a note.”
“She’s away. Vacation I think. There was a phone number of a resort in Florida on the fridge,” Liam replied.
As they climbed into the cruiser and peeled out, Elisha piped up, “Makes you wonder, doesn’t it?”
Garcia looked at her. “What?”
“How many will come home from vacations and find their loved ones dead?”
“I imagine most won’t get that opportunity,” Garcia muttered.
Liam remained quiet, only speaking to give directions.
It didn’t take long. Joe’s home was in an area of town called Holly Heights. A quaint neighborhood just off the main stretch. According to Liam, Joe’s mother ran a convenience store in town, a store that had been looted and burned to the ground. If anyone was in dire need of supplies, it was him. That was soon confirmed as they pulled onto Holly Street and slowed down outside his home. Liam got out, looked up at the two-story house and was just about to tell them to wait when Garcia burst out of the vehicle.
“Garcia?”
“There he goes!”
Liam glanced off toward a house one block over and sprinted after him. Joe had obviously seen them outside and had opted to flee through his neighbor’s yard. Liam and Garcia were far ahead of Elisha as she scaled over a fence and ran around a swimming pool, squeezed between two posts, and ducked down an alley full of overturned trash cans. An Alsatian barked loudly behind a chain-link fence as she hurried to catch up with them. Curious neighbors watched from behind windows. As she came hurtling around a bend, she found Garcia on top of Joe, holding him down with a knee against his shoulder and his hands bent behind him as if he was about to slap cuffs on his wrists.
“C’mon man. Get off me. I can’t breathe.”
“Why did you run, Joe, huh?” Liam asked. “Wouldn’t have anything to do with Harry lying dead with a bullet in the back of his head, would it?”
“No, I thought you were someone else.”
“In a cop car?”
“Yeah. Now those cops are dead people are driving around in cop cars. You don’t know who to trust.”
“Don’t bullshit me!”
“I’m telling you the truth.”
“Are you?” Liam said as he crouched down beside him. “What about the fact that Travis is dead now?”
“I didn’t have anything to do with that.”
Liam glanced at Garcia. Something in his reply caught him by surprise. “But you knew about it.” He didn’t reply so Liam pressed the barrel of his gun against his face. “Did you hear me?”
“Yes. It was Tate. Okay! Tate screwed him over.”
“Keep talking.”
“I would talk a lot better if you let me up.”
“Not happening,” Garcia said pressing his knee down harder.
Joe groaned through gritted teeth. “After you had that conversation with Travis, he told us he was going to come clean with Harry, that it was the right thing to do. Tate convinced him to hold off, to sleep on it and if he felt the same way the next morning then he would go with him.”
“And?”
Joe frowned. “Didn’t Travis tell you?”
“Tell me what?” Liam bellowed.
“C’mon, let me up. I won’t run. I promise.”
“Joe, you better come clean now or I will squeeze this fucking trigger. You hear me?”
“All right. All right.” He breathed hard and Garcia eased off his back a little but kept his hands pulled back in a painful pose. “Travis’ mother was dating a local meth dealer named Jethro Nash. When the shit hit the fan, he, like many others, wanted a piece of Harry’s store. Survival, right. Well, that’s not as easy as it looks. That old coot might have been old but he was smart. Hell, he didn’t give his own grandson a key to that place.”
“But he let you in.”
“Sure he did. But he never once turned his back. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Travis, it was us. Anyway, Travis probably told you that he tried to scare off his grandparents so he could have the place for himself. That wasn’t the truth. Jethro told him he had a week to get Harry out of there or he would deal with it himself.”
It was all beginning to make sense. Travis didn’t want to tell him the truth. He didn’t want him to think less of him. The fact was he’d been pushed into a corner.
“Why did he agree?” Liam asked.
“He didn’t. I mean, not exactly. A
t first he spoke with Harry and asked him to sell the business to him. He tried to do it the right way, but that old man wouldn’t have any of it. He was gonna ride this out and then sell it off when America got back on its feet. Harry said the store was more valuable than gold. Anyway, that’s when Jethro sent some of his guys over to apply pressure. When you came back, Travis started to think differently. I don’t know, maybe because of you. After you found out what was happening he gave you the vanilla version. It was the truth but not entirely.”
“Why?”
“Why? Because he didn’t want you to think less of him, and he didn’t have the balls to stand up to Jethro.”
“What about Travis’ mother?”
“She left. Got the hell out.”
“So she never went on vacation.”
“No. God no. That was her cover story. You’ve got to understand something. Jethro used to beat her up. That whole spiel that Travis told you about his grandmother being hijacked was a lie. Arlene tried to intervene, get the police involved, so Jethro took her out, made it look like a carjacking. Then after the bombs hit, he dealt with the cops who threw him in jail for the night while they were processing him for abuse. His guys got him out. They shot the cops. After that he wanted Harry’s place and he was going to get it one way or another.”
“Huh!” Liam nodded. “That’s why you were running. You thought we were Jethro.”
“Like I said, I was telling the truth.”
Liam took a few steps back as Joe continued, “Anyway, last night Tate went to Jethro, mostly to save his own ass and mine, though I didn’t go with him. I promise you that.”
“And Travis?”
“Jethro.”
“He didn’t commit suicide?”
“No,” Joe said.
“But there was a suicide note there.”
“He was suicidal. Said he was going to shoot himself. He wrote that note last night but he couldn’t go through with it. Said he was too much of a coward. Tate told Jethro and well…” He took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, Liam. I really am. It’s just a fucked up situation that spiraled out of control.”