The Defiant: An Unbeaten Path

by John W. Vance

“We’re going back to rescue Sophie, but I’m not going empty-handed.”

  “You’re going to buy her back?”

  “Sort of, consider the gold leverage,” Nicholas said as he tossed his rifle in the cab. He looked at Bryn and said, “Now get your skinny ass in the truck.”

  Vista, CA

  The restless night coupled with the brief encounter with Bridgette left Vincent exhausted to the point he slept in later than usual.

  At first he thought the sound of the garage door opening was in his dreams, but when the SUV engine roared to life, he knew he wasn’t dreaming. Someone was stealing his vehicle.

  He tossed off the blanket and began to race as fast as a person can with a bandaged broken foot. Along the way he grabbed his pistol and made for the front door. He was too late to catch them at the garage, but he hoped he’d be able to catch them at the gate.

  He cleared the front door and jumped off the deck, landing on his good foot. At the gate, like he thought, was the SUV, but the person unlocking it wasn’t just anybody, it was Bridgette.

  She turned and saw him coming. “Stay away from me!”

  “Bridgette, you’re not taking my vehicle, it’s that simple!” he called back as he moved closer and closer to her.

  She fiddled with the keys but was having a hard time finding the one to unlock the gate. Frustrated, she gave up and went to get back in.

  He was now feet away. His options were limited, but the thought of shooting her popped in his mind.

  Noah screamed.

  “Shut up!” she yelled back then slammed down on the accelerator and busted through the wrought-iron gate with one attempt.

  Vincent could not let her leave with his vehicle. It was his lifeblood, and without it, he had no quick way to get to Idaho. He took aim on the rear tire and squeezed.

  The bullet hit its mark, causing the tire to explode; however, she didn’t slow down. He took aim on the right rear tire and squeezed, but this time he missed.

  She was getting farther away but couldn’t get too far, he thought.

  “Fuck!” he screamed as he watched her accelerate faster.

  She came to the main road, but with her excessive speed and the complications caused by the flat left rear tire, she lost control of the vehicle, slamming it into the ditch.

  The crunch and scream of twisted metal told him the vehicle had taken some serious damage.

  The horn blared but stopped after a few seconds.

  His foot was throbbing with pain, but he moved as fast as possible towards the SUV.

  The passenger door opened. Noah got out and walked towards him.

  “You okay?” Vincent asked.

  Noah nodded and said, “My mom is hurt.”

  Vincent came to the passenger side and looked in. There he saw Bridgette conscious, bleeding badly from her head and face, but pointing a pistol at him. He immediately jumped back just as she pulled the trigger.

  “I’ll kill you!” she screamed.

  “Don’t do this, Bridgette. Please, you’re making a mistake.”

  “I’ll fucking kill you!”

  “Noah, go back inside. I don’t need you to see this,” Vincent warned.

  “What are you going to do to my mom?” Noah asked a look of concern for his mother written on his face and in the tone of his voice.

  “Nothing, but I can’t have her shooting at me.”

  “Mom, please stop shooting, please!” Noah cried.

  “Baby, come to Momma. Don’t listen to him.”

  “Noah, your mom is sick. Don’t go near her just yet.”

  “You shut up, you hear me, you shut the hell up and leave my boy alone!”

  “Bridgette, you’re more than welcome to leave and go home, but you’re not taking my vehicle, it’s that simple,” Vincent said as he sat crouched next to the right rear tire, his pistol firmly in his grip.

  “Honey bear, come help Momma get out of this car,” Bridgette asked, her tone softer.

  Noah stepped closer but stopped when Vincent motioned him to.

  “What’s wrong, Mom?”

  “I’m stuck. The door is crushed against my side and the seatbelt is stuck,” she answered.

  “Bridgette, I can help, but you have to promise not to shoot me,” Vincent said.

  “You stay the hell away from me!”

  “I won’t hurt you, I’ll just free you, and you can go on your merry way.”

  “Ahh, damn!” she cried out.

  “Momma?” Noah whined.

  “Come here, baby, I need you.”

  Noah stepped closer, but Vincent this time held him. “No, not until we make sure she won’t hurt you.”

  “I hear you. I won’t hurt my boy, let him go, now,” she said and pulled the trigger.

  Glass from the right rear passenger window rained down on their heads.

  “Stop shooting, you crazy fucking bitch!”

  “Fuck you,” she screamed and shot again.

  Noah cried out, “Stop it, Momma, stop it!”

  “I’ll stop shooting, just come and get me out,” she begged.

  “Don’t, Noah,” Vincent said.

  He pulled away and yelled, “She’s my mother!” He walked up to the passenger front door and looked in. “I’m here, Momma.”

  “Climb in, baby, help me.”

  Vincent didn’t trust her not to do something erratic, but what were his choices? He could jump up and put some lead in her, but then what? He had to trust she wouldn’t hurt her own son.

  “Can you get it, sweetie?” she asked, referring to the seat belt.

  “I can’t.”

  “Noah, I have a knife inside the glove compartment; use it to cut the seatbelt,” Vincent recommended.

  Noah did as he suggested and seconds later she said, “Thanks, baby, now help pull me out.”

  Vincent skirted away towards the rear of the vehicle and took up a position.

  Slowly Noah pulled her out and onto the ground.

  She grunted when she hit the ground. “I think I broke my leg or worse.”

  “Momma, it’s your leg,” Noah squealed and pointed at the bloody bone protruding out from her left leg.

  “Oh no, I broke my leg and my face. How bad is my face, baby?” she asked Noah as her trembling hand examined the deep laceration on her forehead and the even deeper and longer one on the left side of her head. Blood was everywhere as it freely streamed from her wounds down her face and onto her chest. She looked down at her leg and placed her shaking hand on the thick bone that stuck out of her femur. She cringed and began to sob when she touched the bloodied white mass as if her sense of touch made it a reality. “What have I done?” she moaned.

  Noah hugged her and also cried.

  Vincent was at his breaking point over the drama and wanted nothing more than to walk away, but he couldn’t. “If I step out to help, promise me you won’t shoot.”

  “Leave us alone,” she sobbed.

  “Your leg is broken, let me help.”

  “I said leave us alone.”

  “Great,” Vincent mumbled under his breath.

  “My life is shit, ahhh!” she screamed out.

  “Mommy, let him help you, please. He can make it better,” Noah begged.

  All she could do was focus on how pathetic and sad her life was. She rocked back and forth, repeating over and over how her life was shit.

  “Mommy, please!” Noah pleaded with tears flowing down his face.

  “Oh, honey, I’m so sorry. I am so, so very sorry for the life I gave you. I didn’t mean to be like this. It’s not my fault; it’s how I was made,” she cried as she petted his face. With each swipe she smeared thick blood on his tender face.

  “Mommy, stop talking. We can make it better,” Noah said and tried to get her to move.

  “Noah, I can help, but you have to tell me if she has the gun,” Vincent asked from his hide position.

  Upon hearing that, she snapped out of her trance, grabbed the pistol from her lap and
screamed, “Don’t you come near me, don’t you dare!”

  “Bridgette, I can help, but this is becoming a real bore for me. Either you can sit here and die, or I can patch you up and make sure Noah is safe,” Vincent said calmly.

  “You can’t make my baby boy safe, no one can. This world is cruel and he shouldn’t see the harsh brutality and inhumanity of it. I’m just so sorry that I wasn’t there to stop those people, but I can make it all better. I can put an end to it, I can, baby, there’s a better life up in heaven,” she sobbed and put the pistol under Noah’s chin.

  Hearing her words, Vincent knew she had officially gone mad. He had to act and act now. He spun around to see her with the pistol stuck under his chin and Noah frozen in fear.

  “Please, Mommy, don’t.”

  Out of the corner of her eye she saw Vincent had emerged.

  Vincent leveled his pistol at her and began to squeeze. Time slowed down for him as every second moved like minutes.

  She pulled the pistol away from Noah and placed it under her chin and yelled, “To hell with it all!” She pulled hard on the trigger; the pistol fired one round deep into her skull, blowing the top of her head off. Blood and brain splattered against the white SUV.

  Noah cried out in terror, “No!”

  Even for Vincent the scene was horrific. His heart didn’t go out to Bridgette though he felt for her internal pain; it went to Noah, who was now an orphan. In a matter of days he had lost his father and mother. Vincent couldn’t imagine the trauma of witnessing your parent kill themselves, it was all too much.

  Noah clung to her limp body with no regard for the volumes of blood that spilled down on him. He sobbed uncontrollably at her death.

  Vincent understandably had lost his situational awareness due to the tense situation and suddenly felt the need to look around. He feared their loud altercation would draw onlookers even in this rural setting. He needed to get the SUV out of the ditch and back into the compound. “Noah, let’s get your mom back inside so we can clean her up.”

  Noah ignored him and continued to cry.

  “C’mon, buddy, we have to get off the road.”

  Noah looked up, his face covered in blood and tears.

  “Okay?” Vincent asked, his hand out to help him up.

  With his sleeve he wiped away some of the tears and blood. He nodded and grabbed Vincent’s hand.

  “Let’s get her back,” Vincent said, putting his arm around Noah’s shoulders.

  Needing the affection, Noah embraced him tightly and cried again.

  Vincent looked down at the bloody scene. In his mind he was thinking what an unnecessary mess it all was, but a cold part of him was happy she was gone. He would never admit that to anyone, but she was troubled and what demons she was fighting would have brought harm to them all.

  He hugged him tightly and said, “I need you to go back and make sure the gate is open.”

  Noah nodded but wouldn’t let go.

  “Hey, buddy, we need to get off the road before any bad people show up.”

  “Okay,” he replied and took off running towards the gate.

  Vincent looked back at the scene and grumbled, “What a fucking mess.”

  Wellsville, Utah

  When Nicholas, all alone, pulled up to the first checkpoint on the west side of Wellsville, the guards found him whistling an old show tune.

  The guards raised their rifles and ordered, “Out of the truck! On the ground!”

  Nicholas was feeling cocky; he lifted his hands off the steering wheel and said, “Gentlemen, you seem to know who I am, good. This is what you’re going to do. Get on the radio and contact Mayor Chad, tell him Nicholas McNeil has his gold, all of it, and I want my friend Sophie back.”

  “Get out of the vehicle!” a guard hollered.

  Nicholas looked at him and asked, “Are you deaf, dumb or both?”

  The guard came towards him when the second man yelled, “Leave him, I’ll call the mayor.”

  As Nicholas waited, he took in a deep breath, enjoying the crisp air. He also was making a mental note of where he was and what he was doing. His move to get Sophie was a risky one, but he couldn’t think of anything else. Trying another armed raid would most likely fail, so he went for the one thing Chad found value in above all else. The one part of the equation he didn’t know was if Sophie was even there. It was all an assumption.

  The second guard got off the radio and stepped up to Nicholas. “The mayor wants you to come see him at his office.”

  “Not going to happen, tell the old cripple to come here,” Nicholas said.

  The guard took his handset and called again.

  Nicholas hadn’t put much thought into his own life when he made the decision to do this swap. It had just come naturally to him. Now as he waited for Chad to come, he began to think of Becky and Abigail. He loved them so much and wanted nothing more than their safety and happiness. He then thought about Chad and Brock, he remembered the conversation where Chad told him about his success and how all of his children had fled Wellsville but one, Brock. He was sure Chad had the same wants for his children as he did, so would Chad take this deal or would he be hell bent on exacting revenge? This gave him pause, the confidence he had before began to crumble. What if Chad cared more about justice for his son than all the gold in the world?

  Two cars raced his way.

  He was sure it was Chad and some men.

  “Get out of the car,” the first guard ordered, his rifle stuck near Nicholas’ face.

  Suddenly, Nicholas began to fear that he had made a mistake.

  “Out now,” the guard barked.

  “Hold on, give me a second,” Nicholas replied and stepped out, making sure his hands were in clear view.

  The two cars came to a screeching stop.

  The driver of the lead car got out, opened the trunk and pulled out Chad’s wheelchair. He unfolded it and took it to the passenger-side door, which Chad had opened.

  Chad threw his body into the chair and quickly whisked his way over to Nicholas.

  “Hmm, I count six guys, not including you,” Nicholas said.

  “You certainly play a deadly game, Mr. McNeil, a very deadly game.”

  “I have to ask because I noticed this on day one. Did you steal all of the operational vehicles from people who needed them?”

  “So I see you listened to the lies of Luke Summers.”

  “Lies, really? He told me there was as much gold at your old gravel pit as Fort Knox and you know what? He was right,” Nicholas mocked as he pulled out a Gold Eagle and flipped it to Chad.

  The coin landed in Chad’s lap. He snatched it up and looked at it carefully.

  Seeing Chad’s reaction, Nicholas turned to the guards individually and asked, “Are you aware of all the gold he has stolen? You? Are you aware?”

  Chad wheeled to within inches of Nicholas and said, “Walk with me.”

  Nicholas smiled; the fear that had brewed began to wane. “Sure.”

  Chad wheeled twenty feet away and stopped; he spun around and asked, “What do you want?”

  “My friend, Sophie, you have her.”

  Cocking his head, Chad said, “I don’t know who you’re talking about.”

  “Now you’re lying.”

  “I don’t know who you’re referring to. I see you freed your other friend, and you made a mess out of one of my warehouses and killed more than a few of my people.”

  “Quit screwing around, Chad.”

  “I’m not.”

  “I know this tactic, stall while you send other guys to the pits, but you won’t find them. We moved it; we spent all morning moving case after case after case of gold.”

  Chad’s forehead furrowed and his lips pursed. “Damn you.”

  “Where’s my friend?”

  “She’s in town. We caught her and that punk kid.”

  “Bring her to me and I’ll tell you where you can find your gold.”

  Chad’s temples pulsated as
his temper grew. “Fine,” he barked and turned around. “Have Logan bring the girl and the boy.”

  “Boy?”

  “Yes, you take him or no deal.”

  “I don’t want that kid, he’s the entire reason you and I are having this conversation.”

  “I want him gone, but I have to play it safe because of politics. The girl and boy for my gold, that’s the final deal.”

  Not wanting to argue anymore, Nicholas gave in. “Deal.”

  Vista, CA

  Bridgette had been wrapped in several white sheets and a thick dark brown duvet cover. Vincent had done this to minimize the gory look of the blood-soaked sheets.

  Noah had requested she be buried up on the hill next to Vincent’s favorite spot in the avocado grove. Vincent had shared with him how he enjoyed the three-hundred-and-sixty-degree views from there and that it felt like he was on top of the world. This appealed to Noah, and Vincent was willing to give him anything he wanted.

  Vincent’s foot was in intense pain and he was beginning to think he might have rebroken it. However, he made a promise to Noah and he was going to fulfill it, pain or not.

  With her body in a wheelbarrow, Vincent pushed her up the hill. Each agonizing step was worse than the last. He could feel the bones grinding in his foot, and there was no doubt now he had done some damage to it.

  Noah walked behind the funeral procession with two shovels in hand.

  Like Vincent’s previous trips to the top, for each normal stride it took him three. When they finally reached the top, he was sweating profusely and his foot was radiating so much pain he found it hard to stand.

  Seeing how much pain Vincent was in, Noah said, “Your foot hurts bad, doesn’t it?”

  “Yeah, real bad.”

  “I’ll dig my mom’s grave, you sit down and rest,” Noah suggested.

  Sucking up the pain as Marines do, Vincent said, “It’s all right, I’ll help.”

  “No, I can do this,” Noah replied sternly.

  Vincent could see he was determined so he let him begin while he got off his feet.

  The midday sun was high above them when Noah tossed out the last shovelful of dirt. His clothes were soaked with sweat and his face had dirt stuck to his moist skin. He climbed out of the hole and looked at Vincent.