BEYOND THE GRID BOX SET: The Complete Beyond The Grid series (book 1-4)

by Connor Mccoy

  Arnie plopped down on the floor. “I want to stay out in nighttime!” he said with a laugh.

  “Good, good!” Courtney got on her knees and poked her head under the sheet. “Hey, it’s Courtney! Courtney’s out in the dark with you!”

  Brandon watched Courtney and Arnie play as if they were out in the night for a while. Soon, Arnie was calmed down enough that he was content to sit, discard the sheet, and return to his coloring as if nothing had happened.

  “That was amazing,” Brandon said, as Courtney approached.

  “It’s a little trick I heard about,” Courtney said. “Arnie’s last caretaker did that when Arnie would get in a mood. It helps to clear his head of all the bad thoughts and makes him happy again. She had a big backyard that Arnie liked to play in. She would take him out there at night to play games. It’s kind of like his big happy memory.”

  Brandon let himself relax, sinking into his chair. “Anything else we should know about him? I mean, he’s not a killer or something?” Brandon laughed.

  Courtney didn’t share in his mirth, which alarmed Brandon slightly. “I don’t know,” she said. “Maybe not. When I was with Sykes’s men, they’d share a lot of weird stories about Arnie, like about his dad.” Courtney sat in the chair next to Brandon. “I don’t know what happened to his dad, but he died some years ago. They said Arnie got put in a mental institution after that but then he broke out.”

  Courtney rubbed her forehead. “There was this one guy, Larry. He was a real creepy guy, and I’m sure he was exaggerating. But he said Arnie used to wander the roads like a bogeyman and if he ran into someone who treated him bad, he’d kill him.”

  A chill ran down Brandon’s spine. It seemed like a story someone might make up about Arnie. Still, given Arnie’s robust physique, the man certainly could kill if he wanted to do so.

  “Did Sykes ever tell stories like that?” Brandon asked.

  Courtney rolled her eyes. “Sykes would just say, ‘He’s a special kind of fellow.’” She imitated Sykes’ Southern drawl as she recalled his words. “He wouldn’t spill major details on Arnie.”

  Brandon grimaced. “Do you think Arnie’s safe?”

  Courtney hesitated. “I guess. Maybe. It depends how you treat him.”

  Brandon decided he didn’t want to talk about Arnie for a while. His interest drifted over to Courtney herself. “What about you? I mean, where do you come from?”

  Courtney bit her lip. “I—I don’t have anybody. My parents, they died when I was real little. I got passed around like a hot potato. I finally ended up with a nice lady, Lily. But she died of cancer.” She looked to the ceiling. “That’s when everything went crazy. I wandered into one of Sykes’s warehouses looking for food. Sykes found me and promised to find me a home. I could work for him and have a place to sleep and eat.” She smiled crookedly. “Turned out to be your place.”

  Brandon nodded. “Yeah.”

  Courtney hesitated a little before continuing. “It’s kind of cool that none of us are normal.”

  “What do you mean?” Brandon asked.

  “You don’t go to school. You learn everything at your house. Your parents are, like, survivalists or something. You even know how to shoot guns and stuff. Lily would have freaked out if I even picked up one.”

  “I guess we’re not normal. If we were, we probably wouldn’t even be alive,” Brandon said.

  The two fell silent for a moment.

  “I hope your parents come back soon,” Courtney said.

  Pop! Pop!

  Jacob and the gunman continued exchanging gunfire as Jacob pursued him. The gunman’s aim was wild, hitting only the trees high above. He wasn’t skilled in a running gun battle, and while Jacob wasn’t used to running with a gun either, he still was proficient enough to maintain a steady grip on his firearm.

  Jacob’s latest shot hit so close to the gunman that it sprayed some wood shavings in his face. The man fell down, screaming.

  Jacob charged up to him. The man still held his gun. “Let it go!” Jacob screamed. “Let it go or you’re dead!”

  “Alright! Alright!” The man released his weapon. Jacob seized the man by his shirt collar and turned him over. He was not carrying any more weapons.

  “You still want to keep this up?” Jacob asked as he held the gun on the man. “Do you?”

  “No! No!” he cried as Domino, Sheryl and Jubilee approached from behind. “Look, I’m just doing what Sykes told me! I don’t want to die! Please!”

  Jacob kept the gun on him as Domino snatched the man’s firearm. At least this guy gave up, which was showing more sense than the last gunman. Jacob and his crew had discovered one of Sykes’s surviving men, who refused entreaties to give up. A bullet from Domino put an end to him. This man before them also tried to fight back before surrendering. However, Jacob wasn’t in the mood to let him go unless Jacob was sure this man wasn’t coming back.

  Jacob grabbed the man, hoisted him up and slammed him against a tree. “Alright, here’s how it’s going to be. There’s a town, Venture Point. It’s not too far away. You walk in a straight line and you’ll find Dalton Road. Hang a left and keep walking. With any luck, there will be people there who can help you. But if you show up at my house again, I won’t be so nice.”

  The man sobbed. “Okay, okay.”

  Jacob’s group waited until the man was almost out of sight. “My gosh,” Sheryl said softly, “the way he acted, it makes me wonder how those other men were. And we had to shoot them.” Looking at Jacob, she added, “I guess we didn’t stand a chance of reasoning with them.”

  “They would have shot us in a second if we had tried,” Domino said. “The only reason he blubbered and ran off is because we got the better of him.”

  Sheryl swallowed hard, saying nothing more.

  Jacob turned back in the other direction, toward the road. “I’d feel better if we found Sykes. I don’t think the others really have that much fight in them, but Sykes, he might be a different story.”

  As Jacob started hiking, Domino said, “The man looked like he was about to piss himself.”

  “Yeah. I get the feeling he’s a lot more bark than bite,” Jacob said. “He’s probably never been in a really dangerous situation. He’ll either run away or he might become so crazed with revenge that he’ll go the other way, become vicious, do things he probably wouldn’t do if he had his men performing the dirty deeds for him.”

  “But he’s going to have to find something to eat and drink sooner or later,” Sheryl said, eyeing the woods around them. “I mean, he can’t just stay out in the woods forever.”

  “I know. But we’re the closest source of food there is unless he wants to try the berries in the forest,” Jacob said. “If he becomes desperate, things could turn ugly.”

  Sykes sank back against a tree trunk. He didn’t feel safe enough to stop. He just was too exhausted to keep going, although he figured he might have outdistanced the homesteader’s party for a while. He had not heard any voices or anyone traipsing through the forest behind him.

  Or any gunshots, he thought grimly.

  He picked up his boot. By now it had gathered dirt and mud all the way up over the heel and toe. The luster of the leather was no doubt gone, even if he washed off the boots. The smell of this forest also was getting to him.

  God, with the prints I’ve been leaving in the dirt, I wonder if those yokels can track me. Maybe they have some sixth sense or something from living out here. Oh, get a grip, Jimmy. Don’t get superstitious. They’re no different than you. They’re human. That means they can goddamn bleed.

  He would love to see them bleed too, if he could find their house and get the drop on them, and right now that appeared to be a remote possibility. He didn’t know where the hell he was. He could wander this forest for days and not find any sign of civilization.

  No. Sykes vowed he would get out of here. He just had to use his head. That, and hope for a little luck.

  It seemed he had both
on his side as he peered down onto the grass. He discovered a boot print, but not one of his. It was pressed into the soil near a tree. Someone else had been around here.

  The print was pointing to the west. Sykes approached it. He had a plan. Assuming the print belonged to the homesteader or one of his kin, Sykes could follow the trail of prints, assuming there was more of them, all the way back to the homestead.

  C’mon, let there be more of these beauties.

  Sykes located another print not far in front of the first one. It was a little faded. Sykes vowed to be cautious. He couldn’t afford to miss one, or it might throw him off the trail.

  Farther on, the ground sank a little. Part of a print was visible. The trail still led west.

  He didn’t locate another print, but he did find a crunched set of branches. Following the trail was sharpening his senses. He vowed to look for any disturbances in the ground that could have been made by human beings.

  See that, homesteader? I’m playing your game now.

  For the first time since his truck was firebombed, a smile crossed his lips.

  The smile on Sykes’s face grew wider the moment he discovered the metal fence that cut across his path.

  The trail of prints actually had petered out some paces ago, but Sykes felt confident he could discover the homestead if he followed the general direction of the prints, which, except for curving around earlier, proceeded in a straight line.

  The space before Sykes mostly was obscured by trees, but there were enough gaps to see the homestead and its crops at a distance. It didn’t seem likely that anyone from the property could spot him.

  Sykes followed along the trees as he studied the fence. It was taller than him, but not much taller. Perhaps he could climb up the metal mesh and get over the fence that way.

  He grabbed onto the mesh. Unfortunately, it wasn’t easy to get a grip on it. He wasn’t sure he could fit the points of his boots into the mesh to create footholds.

  How the hell do I get over this fence?

  Sykes studied the nearby trees. While overshadowing the fence, none of them appeared close enough to hang over the fence. A person could climb higher than the fence, but then they would have to jump over the fence’s top to get onto the homesteader’s land. But at that height, a person could break a leg upon hitting the ground, if not worse.

  Sykes kept hiking along the fence. There had to be a way over it.

  His boot crunched on something. It didn’t sound like a twig. Sykes looked down. His left boot had stepped on a small shaft, just missing a sharp point. It was an arrow.

  Sykes picked it up. Where did this little beauty come from? Someone obviously had dropped it. If it was shot from a bow, it likely would have impaled one of these trees. There was no debris on the arrowhead, no dirt, no mud, no sign that it had hit a solid surface and fell off. It appeared to be new and unused.

  He backed up. Something smacked him in the back of the head. Spinning around, Sykes came face to face with a tree branch. He muttered a profanity, but upon looking up, he found the tree to be a blessing in disguise. The trunk leaned very close to the fence, close enough that a person could climb up it and get over the fence.

  “Well, how about that?” Sykes asked. Life was throwing him good fortune left and right. He decided he’d hold onto this arrow, too. It might come in handy.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Jacob looked at the faces of the people seated at the dinner table. Almost all of them were tired, except for Arnie, who anticipated the serving of dinner with a happy expression. Still, in the spite of their fatigue, Jacob could detect the relief in their faces and possibly some pride. They successfully had beaten back Sykes and his men, no mere feat considering how deadly their enemies had proven to be.

  Domino was the only person still on her feet. She was working in the kitchen. The hot blend of chicken meat and vegetables was about ready. Jacob, however, felt he should say something first in light of today’s events.

  “I’m not saying I know things would turn out this good for all of us, but I had a feeling we could persevere if we all hung together and did our parts,” Jacob said as he looked from person to person at the table.

  Brandon sighed. “All I did was sit on my butt most of the day.”

  “But it was important that you kept Courtney and Arnie safe,” Jacob said as he turned toward his son. “Since I knew you all were out of the fight, I could focus on handling Sykes and his men without worrying about you. That was a very big deal.”

  Jacob next focused on Sheryl. “I’m sure it wasn’t easy for you, either, your first gunfight. But you really came through out there.”

  Sheryl’s cheeks turned red. “It was definitely a new experience for me. I’m just glad we’re all safe. That’s all that matters.”

  Jacob next turned to Courtney. “And I heard you and Arnie did okay up in the attic, too.”

  Courtney smiled a little awkwardly. Jacob and Domino had been told about Arnie’s outburst, but neither of them expressed a lot of concern, perhaps because Courtney had handled it so well. “It was no big deal. I mean, we just sat up there, read books, played games, stuff like that.”

  “I know you didn’t get the most exciting part of this whole thing, but it was important that we knew you were safe,” Jacob added.

  Courtney, nodding, said, “Thank you for thinking that much of me. Not too many people have. You guys really are a lot nicer than a lot of people I’ve known.” Fidgeting, she asked, “How long do you think I can stay here? I mean, I’m sure I’m a pain in the butt and you probably want to get on with your lives.”

  Domino, sticking her head out of the door, replied with some surprise. “Good Lord, Courtney, we wouldn’t throw you or Arnie out the door. We don’t even know the state of the towns close by. Where would you go?”

  “Don’t be nervous about staying here,” Jacob added. “Actually, I could use more farmhands. I think you could be a great help to us here.”

  Courtney rubbed her hands together. “Wow. Thanks. I don’t know what to say.”

  Jacob leaned a little closer to his sister. “I guess, in a way, you were right. We didn’t come back to the same home we left. It’s going to be a lot livelier from now on.”

  “I guess you’ll be begging me to stay, too.” Sheryl chuckled.

  “I already told you that you could stay,” Jacob said.

  “I’m just funning with you.” Sheryl tapped Jacob on his shoulder. “You’ve got two extra kids under your roof, counting that big kid over there.” Sheryl nodded at Arnie, who just smiled and waved to her in return.

  “Alright, alright, enough with the speeches.” Domino emerged from the kitchen wearing oven mitts, holding a steaming plate of chicken and vegetables. “Time for the conquering heroes to feast!”

  “Yeah!” crowed Brandon and Jubilee.

  And so, the Avery household ate, feeling good about the outcome of their fight and not giving another thought to any further dangers that might lurk outside their home.

  Sykes tried to stop grumbling as his hand grasped the nearest branch. He had been in a sour mood for the past few hours, not helped by his growling stomach. He had decided to wait until night approached before climbing up the tree. However, he had to mill around in the woods while waiting, until he had to relieve himself. But with no restroom or other facilities available, Sykes had to do his business out here among nature.

  I hate this. I hate all of this. I was going to be the king of this goddamn state. I planned it all. How did everything go so wrong?

  He hoisted himself onto the branch that rested higher than the fence. The light was fading. Sykes doubted he would be easy to spot. The fence was within easy range. All he had to do was jump down and catch the fence’s mesh. He might make it the full distance down to the ground, but he wasn’t going to chance it.

  So, he made the leap.

  He caught the mesh as he expected, but he slammed up against the metal a little harder than he expected. He banged his
privates a little. “Shit!” This little maneuver looked easier in his mind than in execution. After taking a few breaths, he started his descent.

  The climb didn’t take long. Once Sykes’s boots touched the soil, he brushed some leaves and twigs off his clothing.

  He scoped out his destination. Sykes had arrived close to a row of carrot crops. The homestead lay beyond, mostly obscured by the rows of crops.

  The thought of the nearby crops overwhelmed Sykes. He had to eat something. He looked for the nearest tuff of green leaves and yanked on it.

  He ripped off a handful of grass. No carrot. “Shit,” he whispered. What did he do wrong? Was there even a carrot in there at all?

  Maybe the thing is stuck in there. He tried clawing through the dirt, but he only could dig away some of the soil. He couldn’t dig deep enough to locate the carrot.

  Frustrated, he gave up and started following the crop row to the homestead. There would be food in the house anyway.

  By the time he closed in on the house, night was almost fully upon the scene. Sykes, kneeling, kept close to a stalk of corn. There were lights on in the windows, created by candlelight.

  Those jokers have to be getting to bed soon. I’m no expert on farm life, but farmers generally are early risers, and if you’re getting up early, you got to hit the hay early.

  Still, how would he break inside without making noise? He could try shooting out the lock on the back door, but the folks inside definitely would hear that. No, there would be no sneaking inside.

  Sykes watched the lights flicker in the windows. Maybe he couldn’t sneak in, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t do some damage from out here.

  He pulled out his firearm. He hadn’t shot a single round since reloading. He had six bullets to work with.

  That homesteader and his woman are the big problems. I bet they share a room. Both of them in the same place.