by Newman, AJ
Tom lounged nearby. “Grandpa taught me how to make a suppressor using a Maglite tube, a spring, and some washers. Add a reducer from a hardware store, some insulation, and duct tape, if needed, and you have a suppressor for a revolver or bolt action rifle. He also showed me how to make one from an oil filter. This suppressor can cause jams on some automatics.”
Jackie frowned. “Wouldn’t the silencer wobble, and the bullets hit the washer baffles?”
“Yes, if you don’t use the right size reducer or take up the slop with shim stock. I’m betting we’ll use the compound bows for most silent work.”
It didn’t go unnoticed that none of them had used the word kill.
Tom and Sam began loading the truck before dark. Tom wanted to get an earlier start since they were only about seventy miles from home. Betty and Brenda busied themselves fixing their lunch while Granny B and Jackie walked out to the highway to make sure it was okay to leave. Jackie scanned both directions with the night vision scope, and all was clear. Every now and then, they heard the crack of gunfire in the distance.
“Granny, I hope some of those shots are hunters.”
“Maybe, maybe not. Be prepared at all times.”
They left the Black Butte area by eleven o’clock that night, well-rested and ready to get to Ashland. The abandoned and wrecked cars were thick along the road. Tom drove even more cautiously after the truck had passed their location the other night. They had to pull off the road several times to let large groups walk by them. “Jackie, make sure you yell out if you see a glint of light or fire in the woods along the road. We don’t want to pass a parked truck in the night and end up with a gang chasing us.”
“I know what I’m doing, big brother.”
“I’m just a bit cautious after having to hide from that truck last night. We will be home soon. I’ll just drive slow and be prepared to hide.”
The miles melted away, and by five o’clock, they were only twelve miles from downtown Ashland. “Granny B, I don’t want to drive into Ashland during daylight hours without taking a look-see around the town.”
“I agree. Let’s get off Highway 5 and onto 273 up ahead. Then we can drive closer and camp at Emigrant Lake if it’s abandoned as I expect.”
Tom remembered boating and camping at the lake from time to time. “That’s an excellent idea. We’ll be close to Ashland and the ranch. Highway 273 is a twisty windy road, and navigating it in the dark could be difficult.”
“Then let’s get started.” Granny B smiled and patted Tom on the back.
The road was fun to drive in a sports car but was treacherous in the dark. The twists and turns kept Tom’s nerves on end and bumping a few bushes and trees didn’t help the matter. They crawled along for over a quarter of the eleven or so miles. Jackie gasped when they approached the overpass. “The road dead-ends!”
“No! It loops around and down the next hill, and then we go under the road and back on our way to Ashland,” said Tom.
“How in the dickens will we know when we get to Emigrant Lake?” Jackie wondered aloud.
Granny laughed. “Don’t you remember the time we came down Highway 66 and the front tire blew out on your grandpa’s old Chevy? That was right in front of where this road ends. We’ll only be a short distance to the lake when 273 ends at 66. Then a few feet west is the start of Old Highway 99. It takes us on to the lake.”
Jackie nodded. “I remember now. That takes us to a deserted part of the lake.”
“Yep. Most of the local folks picnic and fish on up at the northwest end of the lake.”
They camped on the side of the lake about three miles from Ashland, as the crow flies. Tom took his fishing kit from his bugout bag and opened the six-inch by four inches by a one-inch plastic container. It was filled with Spyder Wire, a six-pound test monofilament line, several fishing lures, split shot weights, hooks of several different sizes, and four small floats. All Tom needed was a cane pole or a small sapling for a fishing pole.
Tom headed down to the lake with Sam in tow. She wanted to learn how to fish.
Tom cut some small saplings down and stripped the branches to make fishing poles. Then he tied the line to the end of the rod and tied a hook on the free end. He added a lead split shot about a foot up the line and then placed a small float about a foot above the split shot. He made a shiny piece of aluminum foil into a small fish-like shape and pierced the front of the fake fish for the hook. “Here, try your luck with this. If you don’t catch a fish in a few minutes, move it about five feet up the bank. I’m going to find some bait.”
Sam looked up from the fake fish bait. “What do I do if I catch a fish?”
Tom snickered. “Pull it in, take it off the hook, and clean it.”
Sam stood there with her hands on her hips. “You’re joking, right?”
“Yep, call for me.”
Tom left her fishing and started turning over rocks and logs. He picked up the grubs and worms and placed them in a small sandwich bag. He soon had half a bag full and no call for help from Sam. He walked up behind her, saw she was watching the bobber dip, and move around. It disappeared, and she just watched. He said, “Sam, raise your pole high in the air.”
She raised the pole, and it bent over because of the large bluegill she’d hooked.
“How long has the bobber been dancing around and going under?”
“What’s a bobber? Do you mean the floating thingy? It started bobbing and going under as soon as I dropped a line in.”
Tom shook his head in wonder. “The float thingy is called a bobber because it bobs up and down when you catch a fish.”
Tears came to her eyes. “You didn’t tell me that.”
Tom removed the hook and placed the fish on a stringer he’d made from a length of paracord. He tied one end to a stick he’d pushed into the soft dirt by the water’s edge. He turned to see Sam sitting on a log sulking.
“Sam, I assumed you knew something about fishing. I should have given better instructions.”
“I thought you were my friend. Friends don’t make fun of their friends.”
The statement surprised Tom. “Sam, I’d like to be your friend, but I’ve avoided that since we know you’re going on north.”
She began sobbing. “I know about as much about fishing and surviving as you do about women.”
Tom stuttered while he sat down beside her. “You could fill a book about what I don’t know about women.”
“Why do you hate me? You treat Brenda, okay.”
“I’m sorry if I came across like I didn’t like you at first. I thought you were a stuck-up rich bitch with a drug pusher boyfriend. My mom and dad were hooked on drugs when they crashed their car and died. Sorry, but most rich people turn me off. You turned out to be a regular person who’d had a hard life and wasn’t like I’d thought.”
“I was a bitch at first. I hated Carlos, but I did get used to getting my own way. He mistreated me, but also spoiled me.”
“Sam, those days are over, and you have a fresh start with your family.”
Sam looked up at Tom. “No, I don’t. I fibbed about my family. My family is in Indiana, hiding from Carlos. I was escaping and didn’t know where to go. I latched on to you and your group to survive. Can I stay with your group? Please?”
Tom’s mind spun. He was in a quandary. “I’ll need to check with Granny B and Jackie. We decide things together.”
“Please check with them. Lucy and I won’t last long on our own. I don’t want to have to latch onto another gangbanger just to survive.”
Tom thought. She’s more of a survivor than she puts on. She’d rather latch on to me than a gang member.” He said, “I’ll check as soon as I can get them off to the side.”
She laid her head against Tom and wrapped her arm around his back. “Tom, I didn’t ask if you want me to stay with you.”
Tom’s eyes shot open, and he paused. “I do.”
*
Chapter 14
Emigrant Lake �
� Southeast of Ashland, Oregon
Sam and Tom caught a dozen medium to large bluegill, and Tom cleaned them by the lake. The fillets were small, but they would taste great roasted over the campfire. The sun was barely above the horizon when they walked back to the camp. Tom saw Jackie had made a fire under a dense clump of cedar trees to dissipate the smoke. “Look, folks. We have some fish for breakfast, or whatever this meal is to be called.”
Jackie took the fish and showed Sam how to thread the sticks through them so they could roast over the fire. Sam started dropping hints about how much she had learned from Jackie and her family. Jackie glanced up at Tom and her brows dropped. Tom winked at her. “Sam told me that her friends call her Sam. I’ll be calling her Sam from now on.”
They sat near the fire to ward off the cool morning air and chatted about their trip and encounters. Betty talked about her home in Medford. “I live in a modest home northwest of the Rogue Valley Country Club. It’s an older farmhouse that was built long before Medford annexed the area. I have a couple of acres, a large garden, and a pond.”
Tom worried that such a lovely place would be a prime target for someone who wanted to escape the city and live off her garden and pond. “Betty, do you think it’ll be safe at your place?”
Bill interrupted. “I’m going to take Betty to her place and make sure she’s okay before I go to my place, which is on the opposite side of town. My home is in an older but nice subdivision.”
Brenda listened patiently. “You probably know we have a large estate up in the hills off of Highway 66. Most of the town saw the newspaper articles that followed the home, lake, and pool’s construction. I’m afraid it’s been taken over by people escaping the city. Granny B, we’d like to go with you to your place until we can find out if ours is safe.”
Tom was a bit surprised by Brenda’s statement and wondered how to tell her they didn’t want anyone to know where their place was located. Suddenly, Granny B spoke out. “Brenda, you might have noticed that none of us ever indicated where we live. We want to keep it that way. The fewer people who know about our ranch, the less we’ll have to kill when they come to take our cattle and food. Anyone who comes with us to our ranch won’t be allowed to leave.”
Brenda looked at Greta, who nodded. “We can live with that. We do have some equipment and other things that might come in handy at your ranch.”
Granny B looked at Tom and Jackie. “I would like Brenda and Greta to join us at the ranch. Are you two okay with that?”
Jackie’s head bobbed, and Tom saw Sam stare at him. “I’d like to add Sam and Lucy to the group. She asked me this morning, but I wanted to talk to you two alone before giving her an answer.”
Jackie walked over to Sam and hugged her. “Of course, she can join the group.”
Granny B didn’t have a smile on her face but gave a somewhat reluctant nod. Tom looked at Betty and Bill. “If you change your minds, go to the Oak Hurst Inn on 66 and camp there. We’ll check there every three to five days for the next month. If you come, be prepared to stay until this is over and we’re back on the road to recovery.”
Bill walked over and shook Tom’s hand. “I think we’ll go to our homes. Could you help me find a car that will run so we can head on up to Medford as soon as possible?”
“Of course, I’ll help. I think I have an idea where we can find an older vehicle that’ll work for you.”
Tom caught Jackie off to the side. “I wanted to talk with you before we meet with Granny. What does she have against Sam and Lucy?”
Jackie shrugged her shoulders. “I think she sees a lot of mom in Sam. Remember, it was our Mom who hooked Dad on the drugs that killed her only son. I’ll bet she also thinks that Sam has made her way in life by using her charms and assets to hold on to strong men to have a better life. I like Sam, but I also have my doubts about her. Be careful big brother. Brenda might be a safer choice.”
“You’re assuming I’m looking for a lady in my life.”
Jackie poked him in the belly. “Bro, I’d love to have a man to warm me in my bed at night. Remember, we’re twins and think a lot alike.”
Tom chuckled and had a big belly laugh drawing the attention of the others. He leaned down and whispered in her ear. “We do think a lot alike, but I don’t want a man in my bed.”
“Asshole! You know what I meant.”
“Look, I won’t try to hide my dislike for Sam. I was being nice since I thought we’d ditch her when we got here. Now you two want to bring the hussy into our family?”
Tom glared at his grandmother for the first time in his life. His face was flushed, and his head shook side to side. “Granny, was our mom a hussy who should’ve been run off the ranch?”
Granny B kept her temper. “Son, you’re old enough to know the truth. Your mom’s car broke down on Highway 66, and your dad helped her get the car up to the ranch against everything he’d been taught. She was dressed like a streetwalker and stole your dad’s heart. We later found out that she’d been with a punk drug pusher in Medford who caught her stealing from him. She was running for her life when your dad found her. She was hooked on the hard stuff and soon had your dad using. We’re just darned lucky you two made it into this world before they died. If the car wreck hadn’t killed them, the drugs would have.”
Jackie had tears rolling down her face, but Tom just stood there with fists clenched, biting his lip. “Granny, I know you’re telling the truth and will always love you, but try to give people a second chance. I don’t see any evidence of Sam using drugs, and I don’t have any desire to …uh ….sleep with her. All I ask is to give her a chance.”
“Son, I know you tell yourself that, but any young man would want a beautiful woman like that. I …”
“Granny, I lost the love of my life and am finding out she didn’t love me enough to stay at the ranch with me. I don’t need another girlfriend until I can get my head wrapped around the last months I was with Gwen. Trust me. When I find the right lady, I’ll introduce you to her.”
“Brenda seems like a great woman. You and her …”
“Jackie already tried that, and besides, Jim just died.”
“She was divorcing him,” Granny B blurted out.
“Put your quiver and bow away, cupid. I just want to keep us alive right now. There’ll be time for a relationship later.”
Jackie watched Tom walk away to be by himself. She saw Sam watching him, picked up her bedroll, and joined her brother. “I’m sorry about pushing Brenda on you. I’ll drop the topic, but if you find a single attractive man, please send him my way. I love you and Granny B, but a girl could use a little romance every now and then.”
“Trust me, Romance is highly overrated.”
“That sounds like sour grapes, big brother. You’ll fall in love again, and when you do, it’ll be a big fall,” Jackie teased.
Tom didn’t sleep much that day, so he took over guard duty most of the day while the others rested. Sam tried to engage him in conversation, but he begged off, telling her he needed some time alone. The morning was the coldest so far, and the sky was clear with only a few wispy white clouds above him. Tom could smell the numerous fires burning south of them. The odor was mainly from burning pinewood, but he caught a whiff of an acrid scent he knew to be from rubber or roofing shingles burning every now and then. He heard a few gunshots from time to time, but nothing worried him.
The sun was redder than usual, peeking through purple clouds as it set above the hills to the west. Tom heard someone stir in the camp. Brenda walked by with a roll of toilet paper in her hand. “Good morning,…,” she said before yawning.
“Watch for critters before you … you know.”
She laughed. “Thanks, there aren’t many creatures in our bathrooms at home or the dealership. I’ll get used to country life eventually.”
Tom saw her walk behind a clump of brush and disappear. A few minutes later, he thought about Gwen when he heard rustling from the bushes, but Brenda didn’t come
into view.
He thought, I’d better check on her, but I don’t want her to think I was being a peeping Tom.
He walked over to the brushes and softly spoke, “Brenda, are you okay?”
He thought he heard a muffled reply, which made the hair on his neck stand on end. He drew his pistol and walked around the bush. The TP roll lay there, but Brenda was gone. He walked quickly down an animal trail deeper into the scrub brush and trees. The scent of smoke was much more potent as he proceeded down the path. It was also getting darker by the minute.
Then Tom heard two men talking. “Why did you bring her here?”
“You know why I stole her. I can trade her to Jock when we meet up with him. Until then, I can sample the wares.”
“Dumbass, there were several people in that group, and all of them were armed. Shit, we need to haul ass …”
The swoosh sound could barely be heard over the man’s voice, but his scream pierced the night. The knife stuck in his chest up to the hilt. He stood still for a second, reaching out to his comrade, and then crumpled to the ground. The other man still had one arm wrapped around Brenda and a pistol in his other hand. He didn’t see anyone. The hardened criminal pleaded for his life.
“Come on over and get the woman. I didn’t know she belonged to you. You can have her back if you just let me go.”
A twig snapped behind him, and the man let go of Brenda and then turned to shoot in the direction of the noise. Before he could finish turning, Tom knocked the weapon from the thug’s hand and kicked his legs out from under him. Tom’s flashlight blinded the man. “Where did you come from, and who is Jock? Talk, or I’ll pump a couple of 9-mm into your knees.”
“Jock was our leader at the county jail outside of Frisco. I just came with them to stay alive. My friend took your woman. I’m innocent.”
