by David Kersey
CHAPTER SIXTY NINE
“John, I’m on my way to your house. Jenkins called me and said he’s already spoken to you. I sent three men out there John and they are scouting the area. Lykins just now called me and said they found an unoccupied BMW carrying a Pennsylvania plate in the woods north of you. I called in the plate number to both the Cleveland and Pittsburgh FBI. Lykins found inside the vehicle a laptop that was dialed in to an aerial that included your place down to the highway. I’ve got a squad car coming behind me.”
“Yeah, Jenkins told me about the car, Chip. What’s going on do you think?”
“Not sure yet but get Marlene and Tillie inside and lock the door until I get there. John, I want you to remember something. You’ve got two retired military women right under your nose so don’t take any chances. You never know.”
“Will do.”
Garrison looked up through the trees. The sky was starting to turn in his favor but probably another half hour, maybe longer, for stealth in the cover of darkness. He worked his way through the trees that lined the pond. He could hear the hunters behind him. They were working their way toward the fence. The thought occurred to him that maybe he was the hunted. Maybe the people in the farmhouse north of the gravel road spotted him. That was the only reason why he could think of for why he was being tracked, if he was. Not the time to panic. He was trained for this sort of predicament.
“What do you want me to do Sheriff?”
“Have Parker stay with the car. You and Wilder continue the manhunt. Work your way south to the fence line. Don’t split up too far apart. Keep within sight of each other. I’ll arrive at the Christianson house in a couple of minutes and I’ve got the chopper coming.”
“Marlene and Tillie, stay down here in the basement with Buck and Cassie. Listen, I am going to open the secret room and I am going to tell Sylvester and Mozetta to join you in there. When they come down you close the door with this button right here. Use the same button to get back out if I don’t come back for you within an hour. You stay put, you hear? I’ve got to go back upstairs to wait for both Chip and Sid.”
He rounded up his help and shooed them downstairs. The sky had turned dark to the east and it would in a matter of minutes be the same to the west. He turned all the lights out inside the house and turned all the exterior lights on, then dialed Sid to caution him to wait for Chip to arrive before coming up the drive. He looked out one of the front windows. Beyond the light of the lamp post at the far side of the car park it was totally dark, a disadvantage except for one thing. John went back downstairs and knocked on the secret room panel.
“Marlene, I need Tillie to help me. Open the door. I need her.”
Garrison paused at the cornfield and could see no activity in any direction. He walked alongside the northern perimeter of the field to the west. In the western purple twilight he reached the area of the two out buildings, the old farmhouse and the barn 200 feet beyond. He could hear no movement coming from behind so it must have been hunters, not trackers. The barn offered a few places to hide but the house would be better. He entered the old farmhouse and used the flashlight to examine the room layout. He would surprise anyone who ventured inside with the machete. If they didn’t come to him, he would go to them, it was a matter of time and opportunity.
“Tillie, stay with me inside and we’ll wait for Chip and his backup, then go get your dog and leash him, and then bring him back right here and stay put, ok?”
“Yessir, for sure.”
Chip pulled into the car park with a squad car behind him. Tillie left for the kennel accompanied by one of the two cops in the backup car.
“I’ve got the chopper coming, John, it should be here in a matter of minutes.” Chip radioed Lykins. “What have you got?”
“Wilder and I are at the fence awaiting instruction. Parker is at the car. No one has returned there and we haven’t seen any activity or tracks so far. What do you want us to do Sheriff?”
“When the chopper arrives he’ll use the down spot. You and Wilder follow the spot but stay in the shadows, not in the light itself. You stay on the Jenkins side of the fence. 10-4?”
“10-4.”
Chip turned to John. “Everyone inside?”
“All except Tillie. We might need her dog since it’s trained for searching.”
“Ok, we might use the dog. Everyone else out of the way?”
“Everyone else is in the secret room. Chip, I’ve got a nest of bulldog ants in the basement of the farmhouse. One of my guys from ACC is on his way with the pesticide we used last summer. I’ve got to get up there after he arrives.”
“I thought we were through with those things.”
“I did too, believe me, I did too.”
“Ok, Mister John, me and Bblackie reporting for duty. An’ I didn’t get to say hello to you Sheriff Chip.”
“Hi, honey, good to see you again. You keep your dog leashed for the time being but stand ready.”
Chip turned to his deputy. “You stay here at the house and guard the front door.” To the other one he instructed to guard the rear entrance of the veranda. He radioed Lykins. “Change of plans, I am going to have the spot hover over the farmhouse on the Christianson property. I want you and Wilder to stay put and watch for an escape from there. I’ve got more backup coming for this side of the fence.”
“Ok, boss.”
Sid’s car drove into the car park at the same time the helicopter could be heard approaching.
Chip’s cell phone rang. “I see. Ok. I think he’s here. I’ll think about that. Call you back.” He turned to John. “The BMW belongs to a middle aged couple in western Pittsburgh. They’re both deader than a door nail, both of their necks slashed. John, the car rented by a man named Minnick at the Pittsburgh airport was also found at the crime scene. It’s him John, he’s here and I feel certain he’s on your property somewhere. The Feds want me to stand down, can you believe that? They won’t be here for hours.”
“Sid, there’s no need for you to hang around. We’ve got a situation here. How much did you bring?”
“Four five gallon sprayers, Mr. Christianson. What’s going on?”
“I’m not sure but it is best if you go on back home.” John slipped Sid two hundred dollars, thanked him and escorted him to his car. “Tell Mary I apologize for breaking up your Sunday.”
Garrison stepped outside the door to begin his army trained search and destroy maneuvers. By the time he reached the night cover of the cornfield he heard a helicopter fast approaching. The jig was up. He knew he was in a tight spot, perhaps as terminal as Custer’s last stand. The sound of a helicopter whisked him from reality to the abstract. Sharona Jackson’s face was shouting silently at him. A mortar shell exploded beside him. This time he would get up and slash Jackson’s head off with the machete. Half at war, half in a cornfield, he returned to the farmhouse, confused, angry, teetering between fantasy and truth, and the demons ripping his stomach apart. Once inside he knelt at a window facing out toward the barn. Suddenly he was blinded by a bright light that fully illuminated the area between him and the barn. He drew out the machete in one hand and the knife in the other. He was prepared to fight to the finish.
“We’ll take the ATV but be on the lookout. When we get to the farmhouse let me approach it first. I’ll open the door and then Tillie can turn the dog loose. He might be in there.”
“He’s gonna need me up there too or he won’t quite get it right. He don’t know you like he does me.” She instantly chastised herself for being a country bumpkin in front of the Sheriff.
Garrison saw the ATV round the corner of the cornfield. The light from the chopper clearly identified two men, a woman, and a dog. A military dog, that’s what this place was about. Like the Taliban were trained to do, get the dog down first. When the headlights of the ATV shown directly at him he stood out of view, weapons in hand. He prayed for a chance at the woman. One more message sent to the supreme leader. He saw a door he could hide behind until he cou
ld spring out in surprise. It led to a basement. There was enough light from the two outside sources that he made out a light switch which he turned on and hurried down the steps, having closed the door behind him to extinguish the glow. The light in the basement was a bare naked 100 watt bulb. He smashed it with his machete. Utter darkness. He felt his way to the stair rail. He would chop the dog’s head off from that position.
“I think I saw movement in the window,” Chip said.
“I did too. I think he’s in there,” John added.
“Drive this thing into the garage to get out of the line of fire. He may have a gun. Come on Tillie. Stay behind me with your dog. When I open the door, let him loose. John, you stay right where you are.”
Chip radioed the chopper. “Extinguish the spot for ten seconds, then turn it back on.”
The yard became as black as pitch. Chip ran in a crouch, Tillie doing the same behind him. They reached the porch and pinned their backs against the side of the house with Chip’s .38 raised. With his left hand he reached for the door knob. The door was unlocked. He motioned for Tillie to unleash the dog.
“Go Bblackie,” she commanded in a whisper. The dog took off in a flash. His paws were easily heard scratching the hardwood floor in the dark house, racing from room to room.
Chip held a hand up to Tillie, meaning stay where you are. He peeked around the door jam. Too dark to enter, he’d let the dog continue the search. It only took seconds. Bblackie barked, then growled.
“He’s located him Chip.”
Chip reached around the door frame searching for a light switch. He changed the .38 to his left hand and reached farther down the wall with his right. Switch found, he turned on the hall light. The dog was stationed at a door, silent, solid as a rock.
PFC Minnick’s ears were pounding. The mortar shells were exploding. Shrapnel was stinging him and cutting him open all over his body. He yelled out in pain. “Jackson, I’m hit, I’m hit, go get the medic.” He fell to the floor, felt the warm ooze of blood around his neck, began climbing the wooden mountain, swung the machete into the wooden cliff face. The pieces of shrapnel were moving, focusing on his face and eyes. “Jackson, help me!” She couldn’t hear him. In total darkness his vision gradually morphed into shades of grey, and then finally, the blood red hue of eternal torment.
John had entered the house and overheard the desperate screams coming from the basement. He stopped Chip’s arm from opening the basement door. “You’ve got to wait on the Feds, remember?” John calmly reached for the swing arm of the old fashioned hook lock and placed it in the round receptacle.
“It’s up to you Chip. We can probably keep him alive if I spray him down with this stuff.”
“Do you think he would give either Marlene or Tillie a second chance? Let’s let Lady Justice have her way. This guy doesn’t deserve mercy.”
“Speaking of being locked in the basement, I’d better get back to the house or I’ll be in huge trouble.”
Chip’s radio buzzed. “Sheriff, you’re not going to believe this. There’s about a dozen animals sitting here on the car park.”
CHAPTER SEVENTY