He smirked. “Family tradition.”
I held my arm to my chest, trying to keep it still. It hurt like hell. Outside the window, our esteemed Police Chief was watching me get my ass kicked. I guess he wasn’t as anxious to arrest Casey as I thought. He didn’t do anything. He just stood there, watching us fight. Well, at least I got one good hit in. I believed Casey when he said he’d put me down for good. Family members on Chestnut Ridge disappear all the time. The hogs are always hungry.
Casey wasn’t worried about his broken nose. He let the blood stream down over his chin and neck. People stared at us from across the street. He put a hand on my shoulder and shoved me to the door.
I turned off the lights and locked the diner. Closed for the first time in six years. I made a point of being there every day, even on holidays. Some people don’t have family. At least this way, they had a nice meal, but not today.
Casey walked me to my truck. I don’t know how he made it to town. He probably started walking last night. I groaned from the pain and got in behind the steering wheel. “What’s the old man want?”
“You.”
“What for?”
“Don’t know.”
“You came all the way down here, closed my diner and busted my rib, costing me all that money and you don’t even know what he wants?”
“Nope. I do what he tells me. You should have, too.”
“That was six years ago!”
“Doesn’t matter. Drive.”
I shoved the key in the ignition and turned it. I spun the steering wheel, turning the truck around and I headed toward the mountains. My brother was making me drive my own way to another beating.
Keegans are like that.
Chapter 12
Old man Keegan’s hair is long and white. Most of the time he ties it back, but sometimes it’s wiry and crazy looking, going in all directions. His beard, also white and unkempt, goes down to his belly button. He’s wild, has no manners and like the rest of the Keegan’s, water doesn’t touch him unless he gets caught in the rain. He stinks, wears the same torn clothes day after day, but he makes the best moonshine in the state.
He’s got a bad temper. He didn’t like it when I said I was leaving home, and I walked off this mountain with a broken arm and my nose has been a little crooked ever since.
Old Man Keegan was standing at the edge of the property waiting for me, and he was clutching my great grandfather’s Hawken rifle. It’s ancient, but it still works. Believe me.
I opened the truck door and got out real slow, holding my chest.
“Give you a hard time, did he?” Pa said to Casey.
“Bit like a minnow.”
They both laughed.
Why, why was I here? Didn’t I have enough problems? But from my past, I’d learned patience, especially when Pa was holding a gun. He shot me before when I was nine years old. Taught me a lesson, he claims.
“You’re goin’ to make a run for me,” he said.
“What?”
He raised the rifle and motioned toward his beat up pick-up truck. It was loaded with shine and ready to go.
“Can’t Casey do this?”
He lifted the rifle higher and aimed it at me. “Get goin’”
“Where?”
“Go down Ridge Road an’ take ole’ 73 to Coopers Rock. Got a man comin’ from Cheat Lake.”
“West Virginia?”
“No. Hollywood Californee you dumb ass,” Casey said.
I glared at him. Working in the diner with a broken rib was going to suck. “I don’t have time to go all the way down there. I’ve got a funeral to go to. I have to pay my last respects.”
“Keys are in the truck,” Pa told me. “Get goin’.”
“Christ!” I exclaimed.
“Jesus ain’t goin’ to help you. Yer goin’ to hell,” Casey said, snickering. Most people would think my brother is stupid, but he’s not. He never went to school, never took a test and he can’t read. He’s ignorant about almost everything. Pa wanted him that way. He’ll never leave the mountain. I begged them to let me go to school. Ma had a soft spot for me and she convinced the Old Man. That, he says, is where they made their mistake with me. Now I’m too smart for my own good. Smart enough to know that it wasn’t a question of, if he would shoot me, but where? Would he kill me? My life ceased to have any real value six years ago on a cold, windy October day when he saw me and Steve Lark sitting in a truck together.
I did not want to run his moonshine. I made that clear to him long, long ago, but what I wanted never mattered to Pa. I kept my eye on he and Casey as I walked over to the old truck and got in. God, it smelled like them. I rolled the windows down and turned the key. Still wearing my white apron from the diner, I drove along the dirt road until I reached Ridge Road, where I turned left.
Chestnut Ridge Road is two lanes, going and coming. It goes for miles with nothing to see except dense green forest. It takes forever if you don’t have any music to listen to. There was no radio in the truck, just a hole in the dash where it was supposed to be and I’d left my phone at the diner.
I was still pissed at Ryker, who watched my brother kick my ass and kidnap me in broad daylight. He knew it was wrong. He didn’t do a thing. Bobby Ryker was worthless.
It was a slow ride. The truck will stall out on you if you go over 35 mph, which was just as well because this early in the morning the White Tail Deer owned the mountains. Herds of them walked on the road, gathered on the sides and ate leaves, plants and wildflowers. They stroll along leisurely nibbling at nuts and berries. They’ll also eat your sweet corn, and they can end up on a dinner plate themselves.
I didn’t have a choice. It was either run this moonshine to Coopers Rock or get shot. I stopped wondering why I was making a moonshine run at eight o’clock in the morning when another mountain man or ridge runner stepped out into the middle of the road with a M16 automatic assault rifle. What was this, an ambush or a set up? Whatever it was, this dude was a lot more modern than my pa. His hair was silver, cut and combed. His eyes were a clear blue and they were fixed on me. I stopped the truck immediately and got out. I figured I had enough in the bank to live for a few days if I gave this man the load of Pa’s shine. I might be able to get away, if I stayed alive. “It’s all yours. Take it.”
He motioned with the rifle for me to walk. The M16 and the old Vietnam vet emblem, if it was authentic, on his cap warned me he wasn’t someone to disobey. No one stepped out to take the truck. He didn’t want the shine?
“Walk!” he barked out.
“Okay! Okay! I’m going!” I entered the forest on the worn path and walked in front of him. “Don’t shoot. Please!”
“Move it, boy!”
What the hell was going on? Did Pa and Casey send me up here to be done away with after six years? Was this random? Why did this guy want me and not the moonshine? I stopped dead in my tracks when I saw the red car. It was parked in front of a cabin and the driver’s side was crushed. No windows. Broken red car. I glanced over my shoulder. The man shoved the barrel of the gun into my back and yelled at me to keep walking.
At the door there was a pile of men’s shoes and boots. The wooden door creaked as the man pushed it open and shoved me inside.
Steve was tied to a chair in the middle of the floor. His face was battered and bruised. The front of his shirt was bloody. He looked up at me and he shook his head.
“Sit down!”
I dropped quickly and sat on the old wooden floor. The man tied my wrists to a support beam and he took my boots. I thought that was odd until I remembered Stevie’s description of his stalker. Silver hair, beard and the clearest blue eyes. Was this the man? “Do you know this guy?” I asked him. Tears appeared in Steve’s eyes and he turned his face away from me. The man tied a gag in my mouth and around my head. It was tight. When he was satisfied that I couldn’t run away, he left the cabin.
“It’s all my fault,” Steve said. He’d been beaten so badly, I thought he could
n’t speak. His blond hair was matted with blood. “He...he followed me..from the city. The shoes are...trophies. Jimmy’s Nike’s. Did you see them? Jimmy refused. He wouldn’t come here.”
Panic raced through me and I looked at the door. The man didn’t care if Steve told me everything. He was a murderer and he was going to kill us both.
“He doesn’t have a fetish. He uses the app to connect to gays. He’s on a mission.”
“Oh God damn it!”
“There was another man tied up when I got here. He’s dead. He shot him, point blank range. Right over there.”
I looked at the blood stained wood and my body visibly trembled. I struggled to get loose from the ropes, but they were tight. My wrists burned. With all my strength, I pulled at the beam. It was sturdy. Damn it! Did Pa and Casey know this guy was here? Had they set me up?
We’d found Jimmy Hamilton’s killer.
“I think I’m next,” Steve said. “I...I have to tell you while I can, Seth. I...I love you. I’ve always loved you and I’m sorry, so sorry this happened. Oh my God. I don’t want to die.”
Chapter 13
The next three days were torture and the nights were worse. Every night the man came in and put the metal tip of the M16 to Steve’s head like he was going to shoot, but he never did.
Stevie unraveled fast, like a loose piece of yarn in a woven rug. He was a mess, but who wouldn’t be? Every night, he had no idea whether the man was going to kill him or not. He told me who to say good-bye to. He told me where his parents lived and he told me who his grandparents were. They were old money rich, living in a penthouse in New York City. Steve’s mom left her parents to join a hippie commune long ago, giving up the family fortune for happiness. His parents met at Woodstock. He meant the I Love You he wrote in crayon on my Valentine in the second grade. He came to the town library every Tuesday night when we were thirteen years old, because I was there.
I worked at loosening the ropes. While he talked, I listened and every word went right to my heart, but it also made me more determined than ever to get us free. If I got loose, if we could escape from this maniac, I had no doubt I could keep us alive. I knew everything about this land. The mountains were my home. I played in the streams, set up secret caves and tree houses. I knew what we could and couldn’t eat. I realized that knowledge hadn’t come from any library book. It came from Ma and Pa. Some of it was given to me by Casey, also. Like I said, most people think Casey is dumb, but he’s not. He’s smart in ways most people aren’t and I was too, because I’m a Keegan.
And because I’m a Keegan, I ate my way through the old rag that man stuffed in my mouth. I was chewing pieces off and swallowing them to satisfy my empty stomach and also to get rid of the gag. I sure wasn’t expecting Bobby Ryker or anyone else to come save us. Finally, late one night, I was able to spit the remainder of the cloth from my mouth. “Steve? You awake? Don’t you quit on me. You hear? Don’t give up.”
I heard shuffling in the darkness. “How did you get that gag off?”
“I ate it.”
“Keegan,” he said.
“Yep.” I drew in a deep unobstructed breath and exhaled. “I’m almost loose. I been working at it.”
He sniffled. He was crying.
“I’ll get us out of here. I promise.”
The door to the cabin opened. The killer came inside. Crickets and Cicadas were singing in harmony as the floor boards creaked under the man’s boots. The moonlight streamed through the broken window and glistened off the polished black M16 as the man aimed at Steve Lark. Steve bowed his head, prepared to die.
Chapter 14
With a quick tug, I broke the rope that bound my wrists. I jumped up and lunged at the guy, taking him to the floor. A round of ammo fired off as I wrestled the rifle from the man’s hands. When I got hold of it, I used the butt end to strike him in the head. His body went still.
“Steve? Stevie?” I prayed he wasn’t hit with the rogue bullets. I picked up the rifle, went to where Steve was in the chair and I reached for his face. His lips. I felt a faint breath on my hand. He was alive, but weak. I untied him and hoisted him up from the chair. “Come on. We have to get out of here.”
“Once a Keegan, always a Keegan,” he said.
With the M16 over my shoulder, I wrapped an arm around Steve’s waist and took him outside. “Get some boots. Hurry up. We won’t get far with bare feet.”
He sank down onto the step and reached for a pair of shoes. “Did...did you kill him?”
“Maybe. I don’t know. Come on.”
“Where?”
“Back to the main road. Pa’s truck is probably gone by now, but somebody might give us a ride.”
“He’ll find us!”
“Don’t worry. If we have to go into the forest, I can get us home.”
“Home where? To town or Old Man Keegan’s?”
“Does it matter? I got an M16 here. We’re going. Did he hurt you?” We went through the forest along the same trail I arrived on.
“Not too bad. How do you know where you’re going?”
“Full moon. I can see. Can’t you?”
“A little. I’m not the adventurous type. What if we get ticks? Aren’t there ticks in these woods? What about Lyme disease? I heard ticks can paralyze you.”
“Keep moving, Stevie.”
“Can they?”
“What?”
“Paralyze people?”
“It takes 2-7 days for that to happen,” I said.
“What happens?”
“The paralysis. It starts in your legs, goes up through your body, into your arms and head. You’ll have respiratory failure and stop breathing. It’s fatal.”
“Oh my God!”
“Do you want to go back to the cabin and be there when the killer wakes up?” I shoved into his back. He refused to go any further. I walked around him and I saw why he’d stopped. In front of me were several fresh mounds of dirt. Graves. There were six of them. I looked back, over my shoulder toward the cabin. The killer had murdered at least seven men, including Jimmy. “Come on! We have to get out of here!” I grabbed Steve’s arm and shoved him. He rushed through the woods limping like a wounded deer.
We made it to Ridge Road. The truck with all the moonshine was long gone and Pa was going to kill me. I escaped one death for another. “Are you okay?”
“My chest hurts. I think my ankle is broken and it’s hard to breathe. Are you sure it takes 2-7 days?”
“Yeah. You might have fractured ribs from the beating you took.”
He fell silent.
“Keep walking. If we see someone coming, you hide and I’ll talk to them. Hopefully, we can get a ride and avoid Old Man Keegan. He sent me up here.”
“He did?”
“Yeah. Casey came to the diner and got me. Pa sent me down this road with a load of moonshine. I was supposed to take it to Coopers Rock. I think they were trying to get rid of me for good. How did this guy get you, anyhow?”
“He had that gun. He said he’d use it. After I realized who he was and that he’d killed Jimmy, I did what he said. I didn’t want to die.”
I saw headlights coming from behind us. “Somebody’s coming. Hide!” I shoved Steve into the bushes. The car started to slow down and I saw the killer’s bloody face. I fired off a round of bullets, shooting out his tires and I jumped into the weeds. “Come on!” I grabbed Steve’s shirt and hauled him to his feet. “We have to find the creek.”
“Crick? What’s a crick?”
“Crick. Creek. Stream. It goes to the river and the river goes to the old railroad tracks and that will lead us to Pa’s place.”
“Do we have to go there?” He stopped.
“We don’t have a choice. No one else lives up this way. The Hamilton’s are on the next ridge, if you want to walk all night and explain everything to them when we get there in the morning.”
“No thanks.” He seemed to be in shock. “That was a killer, a real serial killer.”
“I’ll move so fast, the ticks won’t get me and he won’t either.”
I rolled my eyes. “Good idea.” Steve was useless in the woods. He needed me. “Did you mean what you said back there?”
“About what?”
“Me and you.”
“I thought he was going to kill me,” he said. “Of course I meant it.”
“I care about you too.”
He stopped and turned to face me. The sky was beginning to lighten. The morning birds were chirping and there was water running close by. The air was cool. “Do you?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
“Then why are you always worried about what people in town will say?”
“Because…” I lowered my gaze to the ground. It was hard to talk to him, hard to talk to anyone about this kind of stuff. I couldn’t tell him what Pa and Casey did to me the day they caught us in the truck. We were only kissing. It was a mediocre high school make out session, but Steve was a boy, not a girl and that made all the difference. That night, after Pa left me in the barn, I started formulating my escape plan.
“It’s okay,” Steve said. “I get it.”
“I uh…”
“Come on,” he said, putting a hand on my shoulder. “We don’t know if that lunatic is still following us.”
His hand on my arm was warm. I wanted to step closer. My heart beat faster and I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out.
“Lead us home, Keegan,” he said. “I’d be completely lost without you, you know that, right?”
Chapter 15
We walked through the woods. The air was hot and humid as the sun got higher in the sky. We had shade under the canopy of the huge Sugar Maple trees as we got closer to Pa’s property. We stopped at the stream, and I listened for a while, trying to pick up my father or my brother’s voice. I didn’t hear them. “Okay. You sit here on this big rock.” I lifted Steve’s leg and took the shoe from his foot. His ankle was swollen. “Put your foot in the creek. The water is icy cold. Might help some. You wait here.”
Good Boy Gone: Mountain Justice (Buck Valley Mysteries Book 1) Page 5