A Trip to Normal

by Ray Wench

  “What's going on?” Toriano said, his eyes wide with fright. “Is someone chasing us?”

  “Maybe. Stay calm. We'll deal with whatever happens. You're safe with us.”

  Becca looked through the rear window for her brother but he was not in sight. She felt better being on foot and with room to maneuver, but if they had to leave in a hurry, it was best to stay in the vehicle.

  The minutes crept by. A sheen of sweat coated her forehead. She wanted to check on the wounded man but didn't want to risk leaving her seat. She glanced at Toriano to see he was watching her. She tried to give him a reassuring smile but doubted she succeeded.

  Several anxious moments later, Bobby came back. He slid in the back seat. “They did follow us down the road, but don't know where we went. The last I saw they were turning on the main road going back the way they came.”

  “Could they be going to get reinforcements?”

  “That's possible. We need to move from this area and find a way around them. Hand me the map.”

  “Toriano,” Becca said, “open the glove box and take out the map.” The boy did and handed it to Bobby. Becca put the SUV in gear and drove across the yard. They exited down the driveway onto the next street and checked for moving vehicles. The way was clear. Becca drove a zigzag pattern moving west but keeping away from the main street. Two minutes later, Becca braked.

  “What is it?” Bobby looked up from the map, concerned. “Did you see someone?”

  “Not someone, something. Look!” She pointed down the street to an old-fashioned neighborhood gas station. Sitting on the lot was a gasoline tanker. “What are the odds there's still gas in it?”

  “Man, that would sure come in handy. It's been getting harder to find gas.”

  Becca said, “Should we risk looking?”

  Bobby looked back at Kentae. They didn't have much time for exploring. He gave it a moment’s thought before saying, “Let's do it quick. We can always come back.”

  Becca made the turn. She drove into the gas station and stopped on the far side of the semi. Bobby hopped out and looked at the tanker. He turned to Becca and shrugged. “How do I check if it's full?”

  “How would I know?”

  The hose had been attached but the cover over the ground tanks was in place. Either the gas had just been pumped out or the driver hadn't had the chance yet. “I could open the valve, but we'd lose some gas and have it everywhere.”

  Bobby went to the back of the tanker and climbed the metal ladder. The flat area on top made walking easy. At the hatch he bent, gripped the wheel and tried to spin it, but it was locked in place. He climbed down.

  “What about those gauges?”

  Bobby bent and studied the series of valves and gauges. He shrugged. “Looks like they're all full.” With no other way to check, Bobby picked up the hose and opened the valve. Gas shot out in a thick stream. He fought the hose and struggled to close the valve. It took ten seconds to shut it down. Ten seconds of precious gas was now splashed all over the ground.

  He set the hose down took a sniff at his hands, then pressed his face to the door of the station. The shelves were full of assorted products. No one had discovered this treasure trove yet. He got back into the SUV.

  “Nice move,” Becca said sarcastically.

  “Shut up! At least we know there's gas in it. And the building is stocked and looks untouched.”

  “Now we just have to hope no one else discovers it until we get back.”

  “Let's get away from here so we don't lead anyone else here.”

  Becca drove from the lot and turned west.

  “Eew! What's that smell?” Toriano said.

  “Yeah! Thanks, kid.”

  Thirteen

  Mark guided the small boat out of the channel. So far, the plan consisted of locating the escaping boats, but nothing more. It was hard to decide what to do until they knew what they faced. Entering the lake, Mark increased the throttle and aimed the boat in the direction he'd gone before. The fishing trip seemed like such a bad idea now. Why hadn't he listened to Lynn? They could've just gone to the river to fish. They'd have food, they wouldn't be in this situation and, he'd still have Lynn.

  Shavonne stood next to him scanning the water with the binoculars. They hadn't gone far when she pointed. “I think I see something in that direction.”

  “Like what?”

  “It's hard to tell. At this distance, it's just a line of dark dots. But I'm pretty sure they're moving.”

  He altered course to where she directed. He had no idea what they would do if they found the kidnappers. They were outnumbered, outgunned and outboated. Plus, a nagging fear kept at him that the smaller boats were attached to the larger freighter. If Kendra were transferred to the larger ship, he saw no way they'd be able to get her, let alone get on board without being discovered. Pure and simple, this run was suicide.

  If they could spot them, the kidnappers could easily see their approach, as well. It wasn't as though there were places to hide on the open water. No, this was insane. They wouldn't get within a nautical mile of the freighter without attracting a boatload of trouble. He glanced at the tall, slim woman. Her black skin stood out like a beacon against the lighter water, sky, and boat. The glasses were pressed to her face. He understood her determination, but at what cost? He had been just as reckless when trying to rescue his kids. But, that had been on land where he felt more confident and in control. Out here –they had no advantage or surprise, none at all.

  “Okay, that's them. We're heading in the right direction.”

  “But, what are we going to do once we get there? We won’t be able to just pry her away from them. There's too many. I want to help you, but how will getting killed save her?”

  She lowered the glasses and looked at him. The expression on her face showed that she'd been thinking the same thing. “I know it won't be easy and I have no desire to throw our lives away, but I have to try. Do you understand that?”

  “Yes, better than you know.”

  “I can't just leave her to those animals.”

  “They won't kill her.”

  “No, but what they will do is far worse.”

  Mark nodded. He'd seen what lawless men were capable of; too often. “We have to plan what we're going to do before we get there. My guess is once we're discovered they'll send boats after us. We'll never have a chance to get close.”

  “What if we let them get close?”

  “Yeah, and?” Mark had no intention of letting them get close.

  “Trade me for her.”

  That took him by surprise. “What? No.”

  “Yes, it's the only way. I'm a grown woman.” She hesitated. “I've been through what they are going to do. I can survive it. She's just a child. She shouldn't have to know that kind of fear and abuse for the rest of her life.”

  Mark stared open-mouthed, unable to speak or take his eyes from this brave woman.

  “Say something. You know it's the only way.”

  “First off, no. Second, if I let them get close enough to take you, they will probably kill me. And third, there's no guarantee that they will make such an exchange. After they kill me, they'll have you both. Oh, and fourth, no!”

  “Well, what if we don't mention a trade. What if you tell them you captured me and want to offer me as a gift to whoever is in charge.”

  “They wouldn't believe I was just willing to give you up for nothing.”

  “Then ask for something.”

  Mark rolled the idea over in his mind. He had no doubt she was willing to sacrifice herself for the girl. And sacrifice it would be, because he would have no way of rescuing her and she'd have precious little opportunity to escape. He respected her courage and her determination, but could he allow her to throw her life away with little chance of a positive outcome?

  “Shavonne.” He sighed. “I understand why you want to do this, but if they get both of you, what was the purpose of giving up your freedom?”

 
Tears burst from her eyes. “I have to do this. Can't you see that? I will never be able to sleep at night knowing what that little girl is going through. I might as well put a bullet in my brain now. If I'm going to give up my life, it might as well be this way. It's just sex. To me, that's all it is. To her, it's horror and pain and torture and … and confusion, and the never ending, never answered question, why?” She dropped to her knees, clenched at her gut and wailed.

  She had made up her mind, but Mark could still save himself. He could turn the boat around, get off and let her do whatever she intended. He'd never forgive himself, but at least he'd be alive to deal with the memories.

  “Please, help me. I have to at least try.”

  Mark fought an internal battle of emotions. He thought of his kids and hoped they were safe. He pictured Lynn. At least if he died this way, she'd be able to say, “See, I told you.” He faced the distraught woman, watching the steady stream of tears run down her glistening face. He sighed again and reached a hand to her. “Come on. Let's figure this out.”

  She grabbed his hand. Hers was moist. He pulled her to her feet; she threw herself at him, wrapping strong arms around his body. “Thank you.” She kissed his cheek. “Thank you. God bless you.”

  Mark thought, We're gonna need his blessing and a whole lot more.

  Fourteen

  Though stunned by the sudden appearance of the men and afraid for her son, Lynn acted without hesitation. To do so might mean everyone's death. “Caryn, get everyone inside now.” The tone of her command left no room for discussion.

  Caryn said. “Come on ladies, move!”

  Juanita snarled, “Sit back down!” She started to rise as well.

  Lynn out-yelled her. “Go!”

  One of the men shouted from a distance and ran toward them. Juanita lifted her rifle and Lynn burst from her seat, swatting the weapon aside and jamming her own gun under the shocked woman's jaw.

  “Drop the gun or I'll drop you,” Lynn said.

  The running man stopped, moved two steps to the right and aimed his rifle at Lynn.

  Juanita froze but did not release her gun. Gloria was slow to react, but after making sure the children were behind her, lifted her weapon. Dondra tried to do the same, but in her panic, dropped the rifle to the ground. She bent to retrieve it.

  “Tell them to release the boys or you'll be the first one to die,” Lynn said, trying to keep all emotion from her voice. Her mouth went dry, her heart pounded out a rapid cadence.

  “You'll be the next to die,” Juanita responded.

  “As long as you're first, that's okay.”

  A large pickup drove up the driveway and stopped. After a moment, a large man with wild black hair covering most of his face and a tall, slim woman stepped out. The woman stayed behind the open truck door. The man advanced carrying a shotgun.

  The four men stopped and spread out twenty yards from the picnic tables. Lynn kept her gaze on Juanita's eyes. Any movement would be telegraphed there. She swallowed hard. She hated killing. Had even painted Mark, the man she loved, as a cold-blooded killer, and accused him of looking for opportunities to do so, but at that tense moment, with her son's life on the line, she knew she could pull the trigger with little remorse.

  “Hey, Lynn,” Jarrod said, stopping about ten feet to her left. He leveled the shot gun in the direction of the men. Two of them swiveled their aim in his direction. If possible, the tension seemed to thicken.

  “You better get that gun outta my face, bitch.”

  Lynn pushed the barrel harder into the woman's flesh. “You'd better let those boys go or you won't have a mouth left to make threats with, bitch.”

  At the sound of a grunt and a body hitting the ground, Lynn shifted her gaze. “Yo'all need to drop your guns,” ordered Lincoln. He stood over the body of one of the four intruders holding the unconscious man's rifle pointed at the gunman who held Myron. Caryn and Darren came from the far side of the house pointing weapons at Gloria and Dondra.

  The hayloft doors in the barn swung open revealing two more guns aimed at the remaining gunmen. Four rifles pointed out of the garage windows.

  Unaware of the total threat against her group, Juanita chose that moment to make her move. With blinding speed, she whipped her left hand up and knocked the gun away from her face. At the same time, she lifted the rifle. Lynn lunged and grabbed the woman's hair and yanked her head downward. Her face made contact with the table with a thud. She cried out and the rifle fell from her hands.

  A gunshot rang out, but Lynn was too involved to pay it any attention, vaguely aware of other shots being fired. Lynn brought the gun down across the back of Juanita's head, driving her face first into the table again. Blood gushed over the table. She slumped to the bench and Lynn scrambled over the table.

  Amazed Gloria hadn't fired at her, Lynn looked up to see Caryn with a gun jammed in the other woman's side. The rifle was no longer in sight. Dondra seemed to be unaware of the situation behind her. She held her rifle loosely waist high but was talking nervously to herself.

  “Dondra,” Lynn said, trying to remain calm, “no one wants to hurt you. Please, lower your gun. You can keep it, just stop pointing it at me, or Caryn will be forced to shoot you.”

  The woman glanced behind her. Seeing Caryn armed and Gloria without a weapon, she lowered hers and set it on the bench. “Shu-should I put up my hands or somethin'?”

  The comment brought a quick smile to Lynn's lips. “No, hon. Just don't shoot anyone.” It was only then that Lynn swung her gaze to the gunmen and her son. Her heart leaped into her throat. Four bodies lay on the ground. Three of the four gunmen and her son.

  “Caleb,” she screamed and raced around the table, sprinting to her son's body. Lincoln had disarmed the last man and was already kneeling next to Caleb by the time she arrived.

  Blood soaked the front of his shirt. Fear ripped at her heart. She reached to cradle the boy in her lap, but Lincoln restrained her. “Let him be until Doc can check his wounds. You don't want to make whatever it might be worse.”

  On cue, Doc, the woman who'd arrived with Jarrod, knelt next to her and examined Caleb. A moment later she announced, “One GSW from back to front with an exit wound. He's breathing, but I need to operate on him now.” The pronouncement made Lynn swoon for an instant. With Lynn out of commission emotionally, Lincoln took charge. His loud voice barked out orders as he kept Lynn from fainting. “We need the stretcher now.” People sprang into action. “Get the barn set up for surgery. Caryn, get some of the girls out to the barn in a hurry.”

  “Myron,” he said, “get the prisoners into the garage, tie them up and stand guard over them.” He pointed to a girl and boy standing there watching. “You two help him, and don't leave until I come and get you.”

  Jarrod and Lincoln placed Caleb onto the stretcher and carried him into the barn. In a trance, Lynn followed. The interior of the barn was a bustle of activity. The medical equipment they'd gathered over the past month would get its first test. An operating table stood in the center of the room. Four lights on stands were set up at each corner of the table. Doc, already geared up, scrubbed her hands at a stainless steel sink. Caryn and Doris were dressing, ready to assist.

  The men laid Caleb on the table. Doc said, “I know this is hard, but I need all of you to leave, now. The longer I have to delay or deal with interruptions, the harder it will be to save Caleb.”

  Lynn nodded absently but didn't move. Her mind was too stunned to react or comprehend. Jarrod came over and took her arm. “Come on, Lynn. Let Doc do her thing.” He guided her from the barn and the doors closed behind them.

  Normally, as a nurse in her previous life, Lynn would have been in there to assist Doc. But, with her son on the table, the idea never entered her mind. Too numbed by the thought of losing her son, she could barely think at all. Ruth ran to Lynn and wrapped her arms around her mother. The two women cried and comforted each other. The rest of the community stood around in shock.

&nbs
p; Two more cars drove up the driveway and disgorged another half dozen members. Lincoln went to meet them giving them guard duty around the property.

  “Hey,” Alyssa said, “one of these guys is still alive.”

  Lynn looked her way. One of the men kicked his feet writhing in agony. Something hardened within her. A fire burned, fueling sudden hatred. She untangled from her daughter and walked toward the wounded man.

  Behind her Ruth said, “Mom?”

  Lynn stopped next to Alyssa and without speaking took the gun from the girl’s hand. She lifted the gun and aimed at the man's head. He cried out, “No! Please!”

  Someone shouted, “Lynn! Don't!”

  She cocked the gun, steadied her hand and glared at the man's face. Her finger tightened on the trigger with enough pressure to make it move. A red haze covered her vision. The barrel hovered over the man, his pleas fell on deaf ears. She felt ready to explode just as the bullet would. Someone pounded closer to her. The gun began to shake in her hand. The man needed to die for what happened to her son, yet she could not add the pressure needed to finish the trigger pull.

  Lincoln reached slowly in front of her, his hand sliding down her arm until he reached the gun. “This isn't you, Lynn. If he dies, let him do it from my bullet, not yours.”

  He took the gun and she released it to him. She turned tear-filled eyes his way. “But, he killed my son.”

  “Not yet, Lynn. Not yet.”

  Fifteen

  Becca hit the main road and turned west. Bobby had plotted a course that would allow them to avoid the blockade ahead as well as stay off the state route. However, to reach the alternative passage they had to risk driving the main road for four miles.

  Their speed reached eighty. Becca kept a white-knuckled grip on the wheel. Bobby kept the binoculars aimed forward. Toriano, perhaps sensing the tension in the SUV kept quiet and slunk down in his seat.

  “Okay,” Bobby said, “the turn should be coming up.”