by Akart, Bobby
Walsh, concerned that he might be shot by accident, dropped to a knee and looked through his scope down the trail. Galloping on all fours through the woods were four more bears, toothy fangs ready to attack.
He rolled his eyes as he realized their cover would be breached and the gangbangers in the truck stop were likely to be alerted. Yet he had no choice as he reached for an M67 fragmentation grenade from his vest.
“Frag out!” he shouted as he held it for a second before pulling the pin. He threw it down the wet trail, listening to its soft landing on the wet floor of the forest.
For a few seconds, there was silence after the team took cover. Then the explosion rocked the woods behind the Pilot Truck Stop. Walsh jumped up and searched the trees and undergrowth through his scope. Four bears lay in various states of death along the trail. His peripheral vision caught sight of three others retreating through the woods, their heavy paws splashing in water puddles.
“Sound off!” he shouted and waited for everyone to report. He had one casualty, a young man who’d just returned from a tour in the never-ending Afghan War.
Confident the threat from the bears had passed, he stood and put a hand under his vest to feel his heart. It was hammering against his ribs like an old-school blacksmith pounding on an anvil.
“Bears attacking humans outside the wire?” he asked himself, shaking his head in disbelief at the thought of his heavily armed team being threatened while on their mission. “Animals losing their fear of man ain’t no bullshit.”
Walsh turned in a complete circle, listening and studying the woods around him. He felt eyes on him. Lots of eyes.
Chapter 35
Riverfront Farms
Southeast Indiana
“Where could he have gone?” asked a distraught Sarah once everyone arrived inside the house. Carly hustled her kids off to bed while Tommy and Isabella started a fire. Kristi urged her mom to sit on the sofa. Since Squire’s death, no one had sat in his beloved recliner.
“He’ll come home, Mom.” Kristi tried to comfort her mother. Like Chapman, she knew of Sarah’s bouts with anxiety but was unaware she’d been taking medication for it.
Sarah still held the notice of foreclosure in her clenched fist. The papers had been crumpled and straightened and then rolled up like a Tootsie Roll so Sarah could maintain a choke hold on the legal document.
Carly emerged from the bedroom and blurted out, “Well, I’m glad he did it. If Levi hadn’t knocked that loser on his ass, I would’ve.”
Kristi almost spoke up, but she caught herself. She’d already commented to Chapman on the way back to the farm that the situation had gotten out of hand and escalated when Carly got mouthy. This was a time for the family to come together as a team, not to point fingers of blame.
Chapman noticed the change in his sister’s demeanor and took the floor before she could. “Okay, it’s time for some straight talk here. Levi has been through a lot since the plane crash in Canada. I’ve noticed a change in him, an intensity I’ve never seen before. We don’t need to concern ourselves with what just happened. We need to figure out what he’s gonna do next.”
“Whadya mean, son?”
“I don’t think Levi’s done with the Clarks. On the way home, he told us about the run-in with Billy at the feed store, and I understand you guys had words with Wanda just before the power went out.” He looked to Carly for answers.
“She was being rude, so I put her in her place.”
“Hey, I’m not judging,” said Chapman. “I think they’ve bullied this community for too long. I’m just not sure we need to be the family to lead the charge against them.”
“We can’t just leave him out there alone,” insisted Carly.
“For now, he might be better off lying low until Billy and Randy simmer down,” suggested Chapman.
“Son, where would he go?” asked Sarah.
“Mom, Levi grew up out there,” he replied, waving his arm slowly toward the front door and windows. “Kristi and I were more like suburban neighborhood kids. We went to school, did our homework, and had after-school activities like FFA and stuff. Levi hunted and hung around the barns. He explored caves and listened to stories from grandpa. Wherever he is and whatever he’s doing, I trust he’ll be smart about it.”
Tommy interrupted the conversation. “Everyone, there are a couple of cars coming up the driveway pretty fast. Um, wait, they’re cop cars.”
“Levi!” shouted Carly as she raced for the door.
Kristi moved to intercept her. She didn’t want to create another confrontation on the day of her father’s funeral. She quickly thought up a reason. “No, Carly. You stay inside, just in case they’ve come for you.”
“What? Why would they do that?” asked Sarah.
“It’ll be all right, Mom,” Chapman said in a calm tone of voice. He turned to Tommy. “Let’s you and me go see what they want.”
The two men slipped through the door to prevent the cold moist air from entering the house. They stood side by side underneath the wraparound porch roof, waiting for one of the sheriff’s deputies to address them. After an unnerving minute of waiting with the blue lights flashing and the headlights shining upon them, the vehicle doors were flung open.
Sheriff Randy Clark and three deputies exited in unison, holding rifles and handguns. They marched toward the front of the house in lockstep as if they’d rehearsed this before their arrival.
“We’re here for Levi,” announced Randy as he got closer.
Chapman was about to speak, but Tommy stepped in front of him. “That’s close enough, Sheriff. He’s not here.”
Chapman allowed himself a slight smile despite the tense situation. He was beginning to like this Tommy guy. No-nonsense. Gutsy.
“We’ll see about that,” barked Randy, inching closer. The rain pelted his sheriff’s cap and the rain gear being worn by all of the sheriff’s crew. “I’ve got a warrant to enter these premises.”
Tommy didn’t hesitate. “No, you don’t.”
Chapman looked at Kristi’s new friend and wondered how long it would take for Randy to throw him in the mud to cuff him for interfering with a law enforcement officer’s duty.
“Son, I don’t know you, but it’s best you allow us to do our jobs.”
Tommy stood his ground. “Was it your job to confront this grieving family while they buried a good man today? Was it your job to bring a polarizing figure like your brother, someone who clearly isn’t a friend of anyone in this county? What do they call him? Bully Billy?”
Randy was getting angry. “What’s your name, son?” he bellowed, taking another step forward.
“Hold up, Sheriff!” demanded Tommy. “I’m not your son and neither is Levi Boone. I’ve told you already, he’s not here, and you need to leave.”
“Out of my way! I have a warrant!”
Tommy shook his head vehemently. “No! You don’t!”
Chapman’s eyes grew wide. The men were shouting at each other, and he was certain their voices could be heard inside the house. He wondered how many rifle barrels were ready to lead the charge through the front door.
“Yes, I do!”
“No, you don’t!” Tommy fired back.
That was when Chapman understood. To get a warrant, Randy needed a judge. There were no courts and therefore no sitting judges. If the attendees at the funeral were right, the martial law declaration suspended those types of proceedings. Tommy was simply calling Randy’s bluff.
Randy stood in the rain, glaring at Tommy. Chapman could see his shoulders droop in defeat. He spoke softly to his men, and the entourage backed up to their vehicles. Suddenly, Randy whirled around and shouted, determined to get the last word.
“You people better mind your p’s and q’s or you’ll be next for my county lockup! A little bad weather and a hot temper at a funeral doesn’t forgive your debts or allow you to disregard the law!”
Sensing victory, at least this time, Chapman and Tommy ignored his outb
urst. The deputies, led by their sheriff, left without saying another word. Although, the donuts they created on the Boones’ front yard spoke volumes as to how their arrest party went for them.
After their taillights disappeared into the dark, Chapman walked up to Tommy and patted him on the back. “Man, you really stood up to Randy.”
Tommy chuckled. “I was scared shitless. I just presumed he didn’t have a warrant. The way he was waving the foreclosure notice around at the funeral, if he had a warrant for Levi’s arrest or to search the house, he would’ve been shoving it in our faces.”
As he finished his sentence, the Boone women plus Isabella emerged on the porch to hear the details of what had happened. The confrontation lifted the spirits of the group. There were five identifiable stages of grief following the death of a loved one—denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. Each member of the Boones’ close-knit grip was experiencing different emotions that evening following the burial of Squire, but one thing they agreed upon was they hated the Clarks.
Chapter 36
South Harrison County, Indiana
Unbeknownst to the sheriff and his posse, they drove right past Levi on their way down to Riverfront Farms to arrest him. He was hiding in a ditch just below a drainage culvert that was stopped up from debris. He was cold and rain-soaked to the bone, but none of that had an effect on his plans.
Following his hard right to the jaw of Bully Billy that landed the pompous banker on his duff in the mud, Levi bolted through the woods and around the rock outcroppings to hide from any pursuers.
In those first minutes of his flight from the scene of the crime, he made the decision to deal with Billy on his own terms. The punch he’d landed on Billy was just the beginning of the end of a long-running feud between his family and the Clarks. He also hoped it would help end the animosity between the Clarks and most other families in the county whom they took advantage of using their bank as a weapon.
Levi was determined to deal with Billy once and for all. He was the head of the snake, in Levi’s opinion, who, if cut down to size, might send a clear message to Joella and Randy to behave. If they didn’t get the message, then Levi would deal with them next.
He half-jogged through the wet forest to his house seven miles away. Ordinarily, the 1800s farmhouse remained unlocked, but with transients and refugees roaming the countryside in search of food, Carly had closed everything up while she stayed at his parents’ place.
He’d regretted not telling Carly about his plans before he took off from the funeral. He saw a window to escape and he took it. Besides, he surmised, she was better off not knowing. Not that she would talk him out of it but because she’d insist upon helping.
There was a window leading into the crawl space under the house built on brick piers with wood-beam supports. Levi didn’t go under the house very often unless there was a suspected plumbing leak or critter infestation. In the center of the home, there was a hatch door that led to a closet beneath the stairs. It was a secret door used by the early settlers to hide the women and children from Indian attacks. Levi kept it covered with an area rug and a few light boxes of Christmas decorations.
He crawled through the dark, damp space, feeling his way to the door. Once inside, he wasted no time getting into a change of clothes appropriate for the task at hand. Black and gray camouflage pants, a dark gray sweatshirt, and dry socks.
He opened the gun safe to see what weapons were available to him. All of the long guns had either been lost during his ill-fated hunting trip or taken to his parents’ house. All that was left to choose from were relics, but also family heirlooms.
One was an old Bowie knife given to him by his grandfather, and the other was an old Colt revolver that he’d learned to shoot with when he was a kid. The leather belt and holster had been in the Boone family for generations.
Levi left his home and found his way to the barn, where he encountered several agitated horses. He hadn’t had the opportunity to learn about the abnormal animal behavior from his sister. However, he seemed to have a calming effect on them, possibly because of their familiarity with him.
Within minutes, he’d expertly saddled a gelding, the family’s fastest and most responsive to commands. They traveled together through the driving rain, methodically but quickly. It took almost two hours to reach their destination because all of the creeks between Riverfront Farms and Corydon were overflowing their banks. The swift-moving waters were too dangerous to traverse on horseback. Levi had to take the chance of being spotted as he used road bridges over the water.
As he got closer, his anger subsided and his head cleared. He considered turning back on several occasions, but each time, visions of his mom and dad flashed into his mind. They were hardworking apple growers and farmers who simply wanted to make a good life for their family. They weren’t interested in small-town politics or the grudges carried between their families in the past.
Yet it takes both parties to call a truce. While his parents avoided Bully Billy as much as possible, they’d made the fatal mistake of borrowing money from the Bank of Corydon. This gave the Clarks power over his mom and dad, control that they wielded ruthlessly.
To Levi, there was only one way to stop a bully and that was to punch him in the face. And sometimes, you had to do it twice to get your point across.
Chapter 37
Riverfront Farms
Southeast Indiana
Like the night before, Sarah turned in early, as did Carly and the kids, leaving Chapman, Kristi, and their significant others sitting around the fire, discussing the state of affairs. Only this time, a bottle of Knob Creek whiskey wasn’t passed around. There were serious matters to discuss, and what was emerging as the leadership of the Boone family needed to keep their heads clear. Tommy started with a reminder.
“I got lucky out there,” he began with a concerned look on his face. “It’s entirely possible your sheriff hustled back to town to wake up a judge or a justice of the peace. It doesn’t matter. With their influence, they can easily get a warrant to search the house.”
Kristi shook her head in disgust. “Well, based on what we heard today, they’ve practically taken over Corydon’s government. Their youngest, Joella, is running the town. She’s also an attorney and could very well hold some backroom meeting with the commissioners to declare herself a judge.”
“Levi is not here,” offered Isabella, stating the obvious. In Paris, she wasn’t exposed to the small-town corruption that occurred from time to time in the States. “What else can they do?”
“For one thing, they can aggravate Mom and instigate something with Carly,” replied Chapman. “I appreciate her fierce loyalty, but we’ve got enough trouble without giving the Clarks a reason.”
“I can’t disagree,” interjected Tommy. “That said, it appears this Bully Billy guy is laser focused on taking the farm from your family. It’s ridiculous to expect you to pay. For one thing, you don’t have access to your money. Secondly, the courts aren’t accessible to keep their overreaching in check.”
“What are our options?” asked Kristi.
Tommy grimaced and leaned forward onto the edge of the sofa, where he sat next to Kristi. “This is probably a silly question, but could we reason with him? Or maybe work on the sister? She’s an attorney and has to know her brothers are pushing the envelope with their actions, or at the very least, the bounds of decency.”
Chapman shrugged. “That’s a thought. I suppose we could give it a try tomorrow, assuming, of course, Levi doesn’t make matters worse.”
“There is something else we need to discuss,” began Isabella. Everyone turned their attention to her. “I do not know this part of America or your property very well. I do know what I have observed in my short time here. The waters surrounding your farm are rising much faster than the rainfall has warranted. Also, the continued precipitation leads me to believe there are other natural forces at work.”
“Are you referring to Svensmark
cloud theory again?” asked Chapman.
Isabella nodded.
“What’s that?” asked Kristi.
Chapman explained, “Professor Henrik Svensmark was with the National Space Institute in Denmark. A decade ago, he outlined some of the correlations between solar activity, cosmic rays, and climate change. He found that while the eleven-year solar cycle played a role in oceans warming and cooling over time, which directly impacted weather patterns, galactic cosmic rays entering through our atmosphere had an effect on cloud formation as well.”
Isabella added, “Galactic cosmic rays are important factors in the planet’s climate. They were ignored by many because they did not fit the narrative of global-warming researchers. At the institute in Paris, we studied specific instances of severe weather, especially prolonged rainfall, in parts of the Earth with weakened magnetic fields.”
“Okay,” said Kristi, somewhat confused where this was leading.
Chapman picked up on her skepticism. “The planet’s magnetic field is at its weakest point in modern history right now. In addition to losing protection from geostorms generated by the Sun, the never-ending bombardment of cosmic rays will pass directly to the Earth’s surface unimpeded. This doesn’t bode well for typical climate patterns.”
“It certainly got rid of the drought conditions,” said Kristi.
“True, but why all of a sudden?” countered Chapman. “Kristi, I’ve studied the weather more than half my life. I know when a front is approaching, when atmospheric changes are occurring, and I certainly can sense an anomaly like this one. The rain we’re experiencing is not normal. Even if the power grid hadn’t shut down, as a meteorologist, I wouldn’t have been able to identify any conditions that would warrant four days of steady rainfall. Think about it, the rain hasn’t stopped once, not even for a moment.”
“The water levels are rising, but more than the rainfall would produce,” added Isabella. “I do not know the topography of the area, but if it continues to rain steadily…” Her voice trailed off as she chose not to reach the dire conclusion out loud.
