by N. C. Reed
“I suppose it's a possibility,” he finally admitted. “But I don't think she would risk staying out of contact this long. Assuming this convoy made just twenty-five miles a day, that would put them . . . about here,” he circled a spot on the map in pencil. “That is well outside our area of operations for the moment, though we have plans to visit the area in the future. She should have turned around before then. And their fuel would be running low by then, as well.”
“Yes sir,” the young man nodded. “We’ll continue to try and reach them, sir. On the hour and half-hour.”
“Very well,” Shirley nodded in approval. “Any contact with them should be reported to me at once. Understand?”
“Absolutely sir,” the younger man snapped to attention before departing, leaving his 'commander' looking at the circle he had drawn on the map.
A circle that surrounded a small Tennessee town called 'Jordan'.
CHAPTER SEVEN
“Clayton Sanders, I demand an answer and I demand it right now!”
Clay looked from his supper to see his mother, Malitha George and Marla Jones scowling at him. Of course while he was eating. It was the only time his mother seemed to want to make demands of him.
“You know, I stopped eating at your place to avoid this,” he sighed, rubbing his face as if trying to scrub away his fatigue.
“Don't try and change the subject!” Marla all but growled. “We want an answer!”
“Well, maybe if I knew what the question was?” his sarcasm was biting. Unlike him, with his supper getting cold in front of him.
“Why is there a woman chained to a tree out by the creek?” Angela demanded.
“Oh,” Clay realized then what this was about. “Well, to be honest, that doesn't concern you,” he said truthfully.
“Everything on this farm concerns me!” his mother almost shouted.
“It isn't your farm,” Clay reminded her softly. “It's mine. And while I don't know for sure, I suspect this is the same woman who was trailing Shane's group, intending to set them up for an attack by a larger outfit. The same outfit that attacked us with a machine gun a little while back. Her treatment is intended to isolate her and make her talk to us about their operation.” He paused, but couldn't help himself.
“And if it's not her, then you probably stumbled across a very inventive way that someone is spending their private time.” Oh, I'm going to hell. I'm so going to hell for that one.
“By chaining her to a tree and giving her a tow sack to wear instead of clothes?” Marla braced him, hands on her hips.
“Well, I didn't know she has a tow sack,” Clay admitted. “I figured they would leave her without clothes, but that works better in all honesty,” he said thoughtfully. “Again that's assuming you haven't just interfered in someone's idea of a mating ritual.” Just don't know when to quit, do you Clayton? And then you wonder why you have to put up with so much shit.
“You release her this instant!” Angela demanded. She had apparently either not heard his remarks or had chosen to ignore them and stay on point. Darn.
“No,” his reply was immediate and final. “This isn't your concern. Go back to you knitting and leave mine to me.” He turned his attention back to his food, though he knew it wouldn't end that easy.
“I demand-”
“You don't get to make demands!” he rose to his feet so quick that all three of them drew back. “You've made too many demands since this started and I've foolishly given in to them, allowing you to think you were in command. Well you're not. Neither of you. None of you. I'm the one who has to deal with all this shit, and you feel fine dumping it off on me, then want to come running to me and complain when you don't like how I get things done? Tough. Get over it. Now I'm sure you all three have something that needs doing, or at the very least something else to interfere with. I suggest you go and do it. And don't go near that woman while I'm thinking about it. She is an enemy, in case you didn't get that earlier. We have no idea what kind of training she may have had or how dangerous she may be. None of you need to get within her reach. If you do-”
“You’ll what?” Malitha George demanded.
“She may well kill you,” Clay corrected. “She has before. And her group has treated women they've captured far worse than we're treating her. And that came from her mouth, it's not a guess. We need to know who they are, where they are, and how strong they are and she's the only way we have of finding that out. Now if you three are quite finished, I have to find yet another place to try and eat in peace. And let me add that I am getting damn sick and tired of having my meal times, precious as they are, interrupted by screeching and scratching. This had better be the last time.”
With that he picked up his plate and cup and departed, leaving the three stunned women behind, staring in shock.
***
“Have ground watch keep an eye on the prisoner tonight,” Clay order Jose thirty minutes later. “Make sure the little old church lady brigade doesn't try to free her in the name of . . . whatever the hell they're mad about at the moment.”
“Man, you can't catch a break, can you?” Jose sounded sympathetic.
“Not lately,” Clay agreed. “I'm wondering how in the hell they knew about her anyway.”
“Clayton?” he heard his father's voice behind him and sighed in defeat.
“Never mind,” he said to Jose. “I think I just figured it out.”
***
“No,” Clay shook his head again, refusing his father's demands.
“We don't treat people like this, son,” Gordon told him sternly.
“I do,” Clay replied firmly. “I especially treat enemies like that, Dad. Just like they would us. In fact I doubt they'd treat any of us so well. She already admitted as much, earlier. They've taken women captive and treated them . . . well, I’ll just leave it to your imagination, and you can bet it's worse than whatever you can dream up. She has information we need, and this is one way to get it out of her. Isolate her and trivialize her. Sooner or later she’ll talk.”
“So there is another way, then,” Gordon sounded as if he'd just won the argument.
“There's always another way,” Clay agreed, setting the trap.
“Then use it!” his father demanded.
“So you're telling me to let Xavier torture her until she tells us what we want to know?” Clay clarified calmly. “I’ll get right on that,” he nodded, getting to his feet and grabbing his radio.
“What?!” his father screeched almost as loud as his mother. “What do you mean 'torture'?”
“What part was unclear?” Clay asked solicitously. “I’ll start there.”
“You are not going to torture a woman on my farm!” Gordon shouted.
“She's not on your farm!” Clay shouted right back. “She's on mine! And you're the one who said take the other way, weren't you! So really, it's you doing it, not me, right?” He reached again for his radio. “This way will be quicker anyway,” he added, just for spite.
“Stop!” Gordon held out a hand, and Clay let his hand fall from his radio. He stood there waiting until his father spoke again.
“You're sure you need to know that badly?” Gordon asked, unable to meet his son's eyes.
“Not at all,” Clay was tired of this shit and decided to drive the point home. “We can just wait until whoever she was scouting for finds us and comes to kill us all and take everything we've got. Would you rather we do that instead of embarrassing her just a little bit to break her spirit and make her talk to us?”
“Couldn't you appeal to her humanity?” Gordon asked.
“Is that supposed to be funny?” Clay was stunned. “This is a woman who I just said has treated other women much harsher than we're treating her. Has killed no telling how many and taken whatever she wanted from their dead bodies. Was following Shane's group to find where he was going so she could set us all up for an attack. How much humanity do you think she has left, Dad?”
His father remained silen
t at that.
“Now I have had all this I intend to put up with,” Clay went on the offensive. “While I'm at it, I'm damned tired of Mom choosing to interrupt every meal time I have with some kind of screeching bullshit she just has to complain about and apparently can only complain about when I'm eating in peace! Which, by the way, I don't get to do that often in the first place. Today better be the last time it happens. I'm sick of it. You two can respect everyone else, then you can at least respect me that much, can't you.”
“Who says we don't respect you?” Gordon sounded angry.
“You do every time you treat me like shit and ignore everyone else,” Clay shot back. “You're almost worse than Mom is because you run hot and cold on me. At least I can always depend on her to be against me no matter what. You, though. You switch sides with the wind. I never know where you’ll stand or what side you’ll take. Someone has to make hard choices around here, and clearly you're not up to it. I'm sorry you're squeamish, but that is not my problem, it's yours! Deal with it. Preferably while not interrupting my supper if at all possible!”
***
“What's wrong, Cowboy?” Lainie asked, seeing the look on Clay's face as he stormed around.
“Nothing,” he grunted, not trusting himself to say more at the moment.
“Ah,” she nodded knowingly. “I see.”
“See what?”
“Someone, I suspect your parents, has been at you again,” she smiled slightly. “Let me guess; they're unhappy with the way you're trying to get information out of whatever her name is that was trailing the others on their way here.”
“How'd you get so smart?” Clay asked, smiling in spite of his foul temper.
“It's the people I hang around with,” she grinned, hugging him close. “I'm sorry,” she added, her fingers running through his hair.
“You didn't do anything.”
“I'm sorry you have to go through all this when all you're doing it trying to keep us safe,” she clarified. “It isn't right. It's not just unfair, it's wrong.”
“Apparently my lot in life,” Clay snorted. “So what have you been up to?”
“We're looking at the housing situation and how we can try to make everyone as comfortable as possible. Also we're hoping to spread out the people best suited to protecting us so that there's some around both ends of the farm. Right now it's just the boys and Vicki on the hill. And they all work at odd times so all of them are never there.”
“True,” Clay nodded. “Good idea. What else is going on while I'm being roasted?”
***
The next day was overcast but warmer, promising rain later on if Clay was any judge. Since his shout fest with his parents the day before he hadn't bothered to talk with them or he would ask their opinion on the weather. Since he honestly didn't think he could stomach talking to them at the moment, he decided to wing it.
“She needs one more day, but she's not going to take it,” Beverly Jackson was saying to him as he brought his attention back to her. “She's determined to head home and to walk if she has to. Today.” The 'she' in question was Mattie Simmons.
“Of course she is,” Clay muttered. “She wouldn't be from around here if she wasn't stubborn as a damn mule. Ever wonder why I threw all this away and ran off to join the Army?” he grinned bitterly.
“I did for a few days,” Beverly admitted. “Not any more.”
“I suppose I need to stop complaining and do something,” Clay shook his head. “Tell her to give me a couple hours. It will take that long for me to free up enough people to safely get her there.”
“Will do,” Beverly nodded.
***
“Yeah, I know sorta where she lives,” Gordy nodded. “Why?”
“She wants to go home,” Clay told his nephew. “Today. And means to go if she has to walk.”
“Not the best idea,” Gordy shook his head. “We got no idea what's left between here and there.”
“Feel free to talk to her, but expect to lose,” Clay told him. “She's told Beverly that she's going today, even if it means walking.”
“You want us to take her?” Zach asked. He was leaning on the table under a large oak tree, rifle resting on his knees.
“Not just you two, but yeah,” Clay nodded. “I’ll get at least one more person to go with you. You can take the Hummer. Be on the pad in one hour.”
“Got it.”
***
“Mattie, I really wish you'd give it one more day and talk to Beverly,” Abby tried once more.
“Abs, I appreciate it, I do, but I've been gone for a long time,” Mattie was shaking her head. “I've been this close for two days and waited. It's enough. It's easy walking distance after what I've done to get here. I’ll be fine.”
“Just remember that this place isn't what you remember,” Samantha warned. “Not anywhere. Peabody burned about half-way down not long after what happened.”
“I've seen plenty of places like that,” Mattie nodded, gathering her meager things. “I don't expect miracles. I just want to see my folks and be at home. That's all.” She hoisted the small pack on her shoulder. “Thanks for everything,” she told them, hugging each girl in turn. “I mean it. No way to thank you for that.”
“No problem,” Abby assured her. “Take care.”
“She's making a mistake,” Abby said softly as she and Sam watched Mattie walk away toward the waiting Hummer.
“Hers to make,” was all Sam said. There was a sinking feeling in her stomach that she couldn't place, but then she wasn't sure she wanted to, either.
***
“Shane and Xavier will go with you,” Clay told Gordy and Zach. “Shane is in command. Zach has the gun and Gordy will drive. There and back,” he added unnecessarily.
“Got it,” Gordy and Zach said in unison as they climbed aboard.
“Well, this is one way to ensure Byron and I don't meet again,” Xavier smirked.
“Don't really care if you meet again or not,” Clay told him truthfully. “If neither of you care enough about the people around you to put that shit aside, then both of you can go straight to hell and fry there. I picked you because you need to see a little of the surrounding area if you're going to be able to function as a scout. Don't want to go then say so and I’ll get someone else.”
Xavier blinked at that, caught off guard by Clay's callousness. He had meant his remark in a joking manner but obviously his sarcasm had either been too much, or else Clay wasn't amused.
“I don't mind going,” he shrugged. “I might find something interesting.”
“Just make sure the girl reaches home safely,” Clay warned.
“We did bring her all this way, you know. Don't worry Lieutenant,” Xavier smiled suddenly. “She doesn't have what I'm searching for.”
“What are you searching for?” Beverly asked, having come upon them while they were talking.
“Oh, a little of this and a bit of that,” Xavier's smile made her shiver and she didn't hide it.
“X, I will tell you only once to dial that shit down,” Clay almost whispered, and the smile left Xavier's face at once. He looked at Clay and nodded his understanding.
“Get going,” he ordered as Mattie Simmons arrived.
“Thank you for helping me,” she told Beverly. “I really do appreciate it.”
“I wish you would stay at least one more day, Mattie,” Beverly told her. “You need the security to decompress. I'm afraid you won't have that at home.”
“I’ll have to chance it,” Mattie shrugged. “I'm too close to home not to go after all I've been through to get here. I’ll be fine.” With that she clambered into the back of the Hummer. Everyone but Shane was already on board.
“We’ll be back,” Shane promised. “There and back.”
“There and back,” Clay nodded, turning to walk away before the Hummer ever moved. Beverly watched the vehicle out of sight before turning to Mitchell Nolan, who was behind her, arm around her protectively.
“That Xavier scares me,” she told him. “I mean really scares me.”
“He should,” Mitchell admitted. “He is beyond dangerous. Good friend to have and a short enemy. But I promise you don't have to be afraid of him,” he hugged her closer. “He's not a threat to you or anyone else here, outside his brother.”
“How do you know that?” she demanded, thinking this was some kind of 'macho' statement by her boyfriend.
“You know how scared you are of Xavier?” he asked her seriously.
“I just said that,” she huffed.
“I'm asking you if you can measure it,” he clarified.
“Very,” she admitted.
“That's how X feels about the Lieutenant.”
***
“So the Lieutenant is your uncle then?” Xavier asked of Gordy as they made their way toward Jordan.
“Yep,” Gordy nodded, never taking his eyes from the road.
“You must have already been here when he departed for the service.”
“I was,” Gordy nodded again. “He's about ten years older than me. Seven older than Abby.”
“That would be your sister, right?” Xavier clarified. “The one talking to Jody.”
“That's her,” Gordy nodded. “Zach, can you see anything on the highway?” he asked as they passed over Interstate 65.
“Nothing moving,” Zach called down. “You notice anything else?” he asked in return.
“Like what?” Gordy asked. Shane watched the byplay between the two with interest, saying nothing.
“No game,” Zach reported. “Nothing. No deer, not even a squirrel. And no dogs, either.”
“I can't say I'm surprised,” Gordy replied.
“Me neither man,” Zach agreed. “Just pointing it out. Nothing around but a few blooms, here and there. I'd say they literally moved on to greener pastures. What hasn't been eaten, anyway.”
Gordy carefully edged his way around Jordan, doing his best to avoid attention.
“We’ll take another way back so no one can get a bearing on us,” he told Shane and Xavier, both of whom nodded in approval.
