by Hunt, Jack
“North, I can’t remember the town, but you said you were from L.A.”
“Los Angeles?”
He nodded. “You’d been on the road for two days. Said it was bad out there.”
“Did I give my name?”
His eyebrow shot up, and he looked at his wife before answering. “Yeah. Colby.”
“My name’s Colby?”
“Colby Riker,” his wife added.
“Riker. Riker,” he said under his breath several times as if it could unlock the memories. It didn’t. He brought a hand up to his head, feeling dizzy.
He staggered a little.
“Are you okay?” The man took a few steps forward, and Colby raised the rifle again. He stuck out his hands. “Whoa, friend, I’m not looking to harm you. Let me get you a drink. You’re probably dehydrated.”
“I’m fine. Stay where you are.”
“All right. All right.” The man wrapped his arm around his granddaughter.
Colby jerked the rifle toward the RV park. “You know anyone called Bill Manning? Goes by the name Spider?”
He caught the woman look at the guy.
“No, we don’t. Listen, how about I get you that drink?” He took a few steps.
“I told you. Stay where you are.” He still wasn’t convinced he could trust them or anyone for that matter. “That truck out front, is it working?”
“It works, but there is no gas in it.”
He didn’t believe them.
“Get me the keys.”
“Why? I just told you that...”
“Get me the keys.”
He nodded, and Colby stepped out of the way and followed him into the house, all the while keeping an eye on the other two as he collected a set of keys and tossed them to him. He then made them all go around to the front of the house, where he tried to start the engine.
Sure enough, it was dead.
“I told you,” the man said. “Look, uh, my name’s Matthew, and that’s my wife, Delores, and our granddaughter Callie.” Colby got out and tossed the keys back to him. “I don’t know what’s happened to you, but if you need medical help, I can…”
Colby nudged his rifle toward the home. “All of you back in the house.”
They didn’t hesitate. Inside, Colby had Delores tie up her husband, then do the same to her granddaughter. Next, he tied her up and made them lie on the floor. “Why are you doing this?” Matthew said, craning his neck to see him.
Colby crouched down beside him.
“Pretty simple. Who the hell barbecues outside in a grid-down situation, sipping drinks without having a weapon on hand? It makes me wonder why you’re not afraid. It makes me think you’re not telling the truth, and until I get some answers, this is where you’re staying.” He got up to leave.
“My wife has a medical condition. You can’t leave her like this.”
“I won’t. I’ll be right back. I promise.”
He walked out and made his way over to the RV park. Although there was a good reason why people would cook outside, their relaxed demeanor, acting like there was no disaster happening around them, was strange. It made him wonder if they weren’t protected by Spider. He’d caught the way Delores looked at her husband at the mention of his name.
Also, their home’s proximity to Bill’s last known address was a little too convenient.
If there was no one at the RV park, he’d return and release them.
Darting through the trees, Colby adjusted his grip on the rifle.
The park had two buildings: an office, and a bathroom, and showers.
Surrounding that was the parking area where RVs could slide in and hook up to electricity. There were only eight RVs in the lot. Colby sidled up to the office and noticed the door was open. He entered and glass crunched below his boots. Someone had been through and rifled through the cabinets and drawers, taking whatever valuables they could find. Making his way out, he eyed the eight RVs. He waited by the office, observing from afar, trying to get a bead on any activity. There was none.
A glance around, and he darted out, running at a crouch up to the first RV. He looked both ways before sliding around and trying the door. It was locked. He went to the next RV and that one opened. He entered and found it in a shambles. There was no one inside. The next two were identical.
It was when he was in the last one that he heard horses approaching. He used two fingers to pull down thin blinds that covered the windows. Outside three men rode into the parking lot and got close to the RV. “I’m telling you, she was a ten.”
“More like a four. Come on. I’ve seen rounder asses on a pig.”
“Yeah, I bet you have.”
The other guy roared with laughter.
They were heading his way. Shit.
He wouldn’t be able to get out in time. Colby slung the rifle strap over his head and shoulder and tucked it behind him, then took out the Sig Sauer from the holster on his hip. He’d taken it off one of the guys he’d killed back at the farm.
Colby tucked himself into the bathroom. It was a small area that had just enough room to turn around in. There was a washbasin, a shower with a curtain, and a toilet. He got into the shower area and pulled the curtain across.
The door opened on the RV.
“Either way, next time I'm first. I’m not having your sloppy seconds.”
Boots stomped the floor as they entered. “Ah man, I’m ready for a drink.”
“You’ve been drinking all day. Spider wants us back out there in a few hours.”
“He’s got enough people working for him. He rarely comes down here to check anyway.” Colby listened carefully, his finger ready on the trigger. “Get that bottle of Jack Daniel’s out, and set up the cards.”
Someone approached.
One of them entered the bathroom, closed the door, and sniffed hard. He stank like a pig. He unzipped and placed one hand against the wall while he relieved himself. He farted and let out a lungful of air. “Ah, that’s the money shot.”
Ever so slowly, Colby brought the gun around the curtain and touched the barrel to the side of the man’s head. “Don’t even breathe hard.” He pulled back the curtain with his other hand and stepped out. “Zip up.”
In a quiet voice, the guy said, “Don’t shoot. Please.”
“Turn. Open the door. Nice and slow,” Colby said.
The guy zipped up and opened the door. The other two idiots were at the far end, oblivious. One was dealing out cards, while the other was fishing through a fridge. “Toby, where did you put the bottle?” The guy turned his head and his eyes widened.
Colby had one hand on the back of the collar of the guy ahead of him, his handgun pointing over his shoulder.
“Get on the floor, with your hands behind your head, now.”
“What the…?”
“Do as he says, Pete,” Toby said.
The other one, who was dealing out cards, had come around the table to get down when he suddenly launched himself sideways out the open door. As he did that, Toby fired an elbow into Colby’s stomach and tried to make a break for it. He didn’t get far. Colby shot Toby in the back twice. He landed on top of his friend who was on the floor with his hands on his head.
Not wasting a second, Colby darted past them both and made it outside just in time to see the third guy taking off on one of the horses. He brought up the gun and took a shot nailing the guy in the back. He slipped off the horse and landed hard, and the horse galloped away.
The one inside that was still alive was cursing up a storm as Colby re-entered and grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and shoved him out so he could lead him over to the third guy who was squirming on the ground. As soon as he saw Colby approaching, he got up and tried to make a break for it, but Colby shot him again, this time in the leg.
Once he reached him, he shoved the guy he was holding to the ground to join his buddy.
“Holy shit, it’s you.”
Colby squinted, his head cocking. “You know me?�
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“You should be dead.”
A warm sun beat down on his brow, making him sweat.
“Well, surprise, surprise. How about you tell me where Spider is?”
“He’s not here. He’s in Gustine.”
“Why?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. He travels back and forth.”
“Is he staying in one of these RVs?”
The man smiled then laughed as his buddy groaned in agony beside him. “No, when he’s here, he’s over at the hotel. Runs the whole damn show.”
“Which hotel?”
“On the way in. Hotel Mission De Oro. It’s where he runs his…” He paused. “Hold on, you were with her, weren’t you?”
“Who?”
He started laughing. “You really can’t remember. Shit. That is beautiful.”
Colby shot him in the leg, and the man screamed in agony. “So’s that. And I’ll be more than happy to do the next kneecap if you don’t fucking tell me everything and now.”
The guy was crying like a baby, one bloody hand raised, the other clutching his messed-up left knee. “What? What do you want to know? You were brought in with some woman, some dog.”
“Where are they now?”
“I don’t know.”
He pointed the gun at the right leg and the guy pleaded.
“Please. I haven’t seen them since. I don’t know. Try the hotel. He keeps all the women there.”
Colby’s gaze bounced to the other guy who was reaching down to his ankle. Before he could get the small gun from the holster around his leg, Colby stepped on it. “I don’t think so. Who did this to me?” he said.
They didn’t answer so he repeated himself.
“He told us to. Okay.”
“Shut up, man,” the other one spat.
Without hesitation, Colby fired two rounds into both of their heads, then took what ammo they had, and headed back to the house to release Matthew and his wife. When he returned, the truck outside was gone, and the door was wide open.
Shit.
He must have had some additional gas or had removed a component from the engine temporarily to prevent it from starting when he’d tried it. “Damn it!”
He hurried inside and found the restraints on the floor. Someone had helped them.
Colby returned to get his horse but it was gone. That bastard had released it. He had every intention of keeping him there. No doubt they’d gone to get help.
Making his way back to the RVs to get one of the men’s horses, he noticed movement off to his right, someone darted fast down Pluto Street past several mobile homes. A teen. He took off after the stranger only to lose him in the maze of homes.
Turning 360 degrees he caught sight of the kid again, hiding beneath a mobile home. As soon as he was spotted, he scrambled out and took off. This time Colby went a different way around two homes to cut him off.
He burst out just as the kid was looking over his shoulder.
“Get off me. Get off me.”
“Stop wriggling,” Colby bellowed.
That’s when he noticed it wasn’t a boy, it was a girl, a short-haired tomboy wearing a baseball cap. She couldn’t have been over fifteen. “I’m not going to hurt you, okay?”
“Yeah, that’s what the others said.”
“Others?”
“The ones you shot.”
He stared at her. She had these super green eyes and a nose ring. He noticed she was wearing guy’s clothes, too baggy, too large.
“Where’s your family?”
“Buried.”
“You know what’s going on around here?”
She looked confused. “Of course. Have you had your head under a rock?”
“I guess you could say that,” he said. He looked around and noticed no one had come to help, not even to peer out and see why she was yelling. “Where is everyone?”
“Gone.”
EIGHT
Miriam
Humboldt County
Miriam stalked her brother like a mountain lion — always staying just far enough behind that he couldn’t see or hear her. She knew Jessie was hiding something. He hadn’t been acting normal since returning from his last trip into town. At eighteen and the youngest of the family, she was tired of being treated like a baby. She’d been biting at the bit to be given some real responsibility beyond cleaning, cooking, and running errands.
After all, it was 2021, not the 1800s.
Women were capable of doing what a man could, and at times a hell of a lot better. She was tired of seeing her brothers get their hands dirty while she watched from the sidelines. If only her sisters had a little more gumption to speak up, maybe they’d be trusted with more than menial tasks.
She blamed her mother for that.
No, something serious had happened.
It went beyond the blackout, the power grid down, or even the theft at the grocery store. She’d eavesdropped on Jessie’s conversation with Dylan and concluded that Alby had something to do with it. That’s where he was heading that morning.
Her mother had asked her to go into town and take some eggs to her sister on the north side. She figured it was a good enough opportunity to kill two birds with one stone.
At the rear of Alby’s home, tucked between the garage and a fence overflowing with bushes, she’d watched Jessie park the ATV in the driveway before pounding on the side door. Alby opened it, a few choice words were exchanged, and then he stepped inside. Alby looked nervous, peering around before closing the door.
Miriam slipped out of her hiding spot and crossed to the house, sidling up under an open window. At five foot four, she was unable to see anything without standing on a nearby plant pot. She turned it over and set it below the windowsill, and got closer. Jessie was in a heated exchange.
“Boy, you need to watch your mouth. Coming down here, yelling. You want to get us killed?”
“Watch my mouth? Killed? I thought we agreed that no one would know about this?” He raised a hand over his head, looking exasperated. “Hanging them from a bridge, Alby. Are you out of your mind?”
“They never hid your father. They never showed any respect. My brother was left in the middle of a dirt road, so why the hell should I bury them? Burying is something you do for people you care about.”
“No, burying them would have kept the Stricklands off our backs. Now, who do you think they’ll come after?”
Alby pushed away from a granite kitchen counter. “Yeah, well, maybe you should have thought about that before you put Edgar and Jared down.”
“They were about to carve you up, and you know it.”
There was a break in the conversation. Jessie took a seat at the table and drummed his fingers. “Even if they can’t connect it to us. Do you think Hank gives a crap? He’s been looking for any reason to come at us, and now we’ve given him three.” He sighed. “Man, I just wish you’d buried them, dumped their bodies somewhere outside of the county. Their family would have thought they’d left.”
“No one leaves. The only ones who’ve left have been Colby and Hank’s brother, and he returned. That reminds me. Have you seen any sign of Colby yet?”
“Of course not. And I don’t expect to.”
Jessie paced. He was on edge. She hadn’t seen him like this.
Alby put a hand out. “Listen. We need to be on the same page about this. Eventually, your mother will find out. Keep your mouth shut. Don’t say a word. The last thing I need is her coming down here all fire and fury. You understand?” He waited for a response. Jessie didn’t give one. “Jessie.”
“Yeah, yeah, I hear you.”
“Now about Nina. You spoke with her?”
Nina? Miriam frowned.
“No. I’m not sure what to do.”
“So all that talk about you raising that baby, bringing her into the fold was to rile Luke up?”
“Something like that. I don’t know how to handle it.”
“You don’t. You do nothing.”
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“I wish it was as easy as that,” Jessie said.
Baby? Miriam shifted ever so slightly, and the pot tipped. She ducked as it clattered. Miriam darted back into her hiding spot. She was certain they’d spotted her. She could see Alby peering out the window. He looked her way for a second.
“I don’t see anyone,” he said.
Too nervous to step out, she waited. Ten minutes later, Jessie emerged. “Remember, Jessie. Don’t say a word.”
“I won’t as long as you say nothing about Nina.”
He got back on his ATV, and it roared to life. As it peeled away, Alby looked her way but then closed the door. She waited a few more minutes just to be sure he wouldn’t step out again before she took off, collecting her mountain bike and pedaling as fast as she could into town. She couldn’t believe it. Jessie and Nina? Pregnant? The last time that had happened, it didn’t end well. If her mother found out, there would be hell to pay. Her thoughts switched to the Strickland brothers.
They’d murdered them.
She shook her head. This was not good. Not good at all.
Miriam pushed it all from her mind as she weaved through the streets heading north toward her aunt’s, taking in the sight of the town eleven days out from the event. For a community with a history of lawlessness, she was surprised to see how much was still intact. Buildings had shutters pulled down. Some were advertising products and services in exchange for cash or bartering items. These folks must have thought it was nothing more than a glitch.
She passed by several deputies patrolling on bicycles. They glanced at her but continued, having no reason to stop her. She had to give credit where credit was due. Dan Wilder had managed to keep looters at bay and maintained some level of order. How long that would last was still to be seen.
The mountain bike bounced over uneven ground, and Miriam ducked below low-hanging branches, taking a shortcut that she’d used countless times.
Her aunt Hazel owned the local theater in town, just off Redwood Street, a small business that at one time had been a garage. She’d spent many a weekend there. Free movies. Free popcorn. It had been her escape away from chores. Unlike her mother, Hazel had done her best to give her a normal life. Maybe that’s why she enjoyed spending time with her. There was never any talk about illegal activity, no wondering if the cops were going to bust through the door and arrest them. She was the complete opposite of her mother.
