by Ted Hill
They quickly found the familiar dirt road leading to Independents and settled into a relaxed cruise. They left their headlights off, searching the darkness for signs of Jolanda. Soon the single light from another bike bounced towards them and they stopped, waiting patiently to ambush her on the other side of a small rise in the road.
“Get ready with the lights,” Hunter said. Scout nodded grimfaced. Their fingers hovered over the switches.
The light of the oncoming bike swept down on them and they flared their own lights in return, washing over Jolanda on a red Honda. She wobbled with her concentration broken and Hunter smiled because he guessed right—Jolanda was not an accomplished rider. She traveled off-road, miscalculating the sudden change in terrain and fell off the bike. The Honda rolled another ten yards without her and crashed.
Hunter steered over to where Jolanda lay sprawled on the grassy ground. He silenced his engine and laughed. Scout rode up beside him, cutting his engine also, but without sharing in the laughter.
“Hey, Scout, do you know this chick from somewhere?”
“I thought I did,” Scout said, ignoring the humor.
“So how did your little meeting go?” Hunter asked her. “Does Chase have the place mapped out yet? Did he find the hidden treasure chest?”
“No, but the way I hear it, you boys are going to have a nice little homecoming when you get back. Apparently somebody’s girlfriend is unhappy.”
Hunter looked at Scout and they both groaned. The images of the various scenarios that Molly was capable of flittered through Hunter’s mind. The one good thing—he was still alive, so whatever she did couldn’t be that bad.
“I hope she didn’t touch my stuff,” Scout said.
“Oh, she touched it,” Jolanda said. “Wait and see.”
“Whatever,” Scout said. “How ’bout you tell us what your crew has planned and maybe I won’t drag you back to town behind my bike, Jolanda.”
Jolanda sprang from the grass like a lipstick crazed Tasmanian she-devil, knocking Scout from his bike and raking her fingernails across his face.
Her scream filled the surrounding prairie. “My name is Raven!”
Scout grabbed her arms, holding her tight until she bit his wrist and then head-butted him between the eyes. Wrestling with her on the ground, he defended himself from a flurry of punches and kicks.
“Hit her back!” Hunter yelled from his bike. “She’s beating the crap out of you.”
“She’s a girl! Come get her off me!”
Hunter dropped his kickstand and struggled swinging his leg over and off the big bike. He glided up to where the scuffle was rolling around in full swing. “Hey, Jolanda!”
Full of rage, Jolanda tilted her face toward Hunter, who popped her in the nose. When she staggered but didn’t fall, he followed with a punch to the jaw that sent her to the ground.
Scout looked up with blood seeping from three separate claw marks, his displeasure with Hunter’s actions clearly evident.
Hunter shrugged. “Chivalry died with our parents, dude. Besides, she was kicking your ass.”
“Still, hitting a girl isn’t right.” Scout retrieved the rope from his backpack as Jolanda rolled on the ground, holding her face and groaning. Before she could recover, he tied her hands and feet with the most elaborate knots Hunter had ever witnessed.
“I would agree to that, most of the time,” Hunter said. “But I think Jolanda would appreciate the equality of the situation.”
“My name is Raven,” Jolanda mumbled angrily. She sounded like she had cotton balls stuffed up her nose.
“Shut up,” the boys said together.
“Let’s take her back to Jimmy and figure a way out of this mess,” Scout said.
“Chase’s going to think they still have us captured.”
“Won’t he be surprised?”
Hunter helped Scout load Jolanda onto the Suzuki. They explained to her what would happen if she jacked around on the ride back to Independents. When she hawked a loogie at them, they decided to tie her more securely to the bike using more rope and duct tape from Scout’s well-stocked supplies, restricting all of her movements and eliminating the danger.
Then Hunter gagged her with a red bandanna from his own bag to keep her quiet. He patted her on the head. “Nice, Jolanda.”
“I don’t like this,” Scout said.
“Yeah, me neither.” Hunter smiled. “Let’s go.”
TWENTY-TWO
Jimmy
Jimmy’s hands were still shaking. He shoved them deep into his pockets, not wanting to alarm Ginger. Maybe she’d think he was just cold. The shaking started the moment he saw the fire and thought his brother might be inside, burning to death. Ginger’s arm around his waist gave him a level of comfort he was not used too. It was nice.
Mark shuffled out of the sheriff’s office on Main Street, looking like he might start bawling any second. Locking up your sister will do that.
The smell of the house fire from three streets away permeated the night air. Luckily the houses in Independents were built on such large lots that the fear of the fire spreading throughout the town was nonexistent. Still, the kids in the volunteer fire department cranked up the old fire truck and brought it over for safety and practice. They doused the flames, but the smoldering continued.
In a funny way, the smell of smoke reminded Jimmy of family campouts and his knees rattled with tremors. Everyone in Independents suffered from losses. When the parents died along with all the other grownups, losses became the acceptable norm. But when Jimmy thought he’d lost his little brother, it was all he could do to keep from rushing inside that blazing inferno to make certain Hunter wasn’t in there.
“Did Vanessa go home?” Mark spoke the way people did late at night while telling stories around a campfire, his voice distant and eerie.
“Yeah,” Jimmy said. “She left to give the babysitter a break. Sounds like you two have been tied up all day with the group from Iowa.”
Mark shook his head wearily. “Damn! I forgot about them. Molly picked a great time to lose her freaking mind. I wonder what they’re thinking.”
Jimmy shrugged. “I could care less right now. Hunter and Scout haven’t returned yet. Something’s wrong and I’m betting Chase from Iowa is somehow responsible.”
“You want me to watch the house they’re staying in?”
“No, I’ll have Samuel do it. You go home to Vanessa. She probably needs you right now.” Jimmy didn’t bother to say Mark probably needed her just as much. He shivered as the cold wind picked up, but he felt warmth radiating from Ginger and pulled her closer.
“Did Molly say anything?”
Eyeing Ginger and Jimmy, Mark paused with a slight smile, as though something just occurred to him. “No, she didn’t.” His smile vanished. “She fell on the cot and faced the wall. I tried asking her why she did it, but she ignored me. I don’t know what to do, Jimmy. I mean, I’m the sheriff and all, but she’s my sister.”
“I know it’s tough right now, but we’ll figure something out tomorrow.”
Mark shook his head again. “I don’t understand how Molly could set a house on fire. Something must have happened for her to go off like that; something with your brother.”
“I’ve been thinking the same thing,” Jimmy said.
Mark folded his arms over his chest. “I didn’t like it when they started seeing each other. It all happened too quickly.”
“I didn’t encourage it. Hunter doesn’t listen to me anyways.”
“Molly doesn’t listen to me either, but I never expected her to cause trouble like this.”
Jimmy shared a glance with Ginger. He was hardly surprised by Molly’s actions and figured Ginger was even less amazed by what her co-worker had done.
“We’ll help her somehow,” he said. “I’m sure it’ll all work out.”
Ginger nodded. “She can be tough sometimes, but together we’ll figure out the best way to help her.”
“Thank
s,” Mark said. “I know Molly can be a serious pain. I’m sure she’s even worse to work with. I haven’t been around for her a lot lately.”
“We do what we can,” Jimmy said.
Mark’s slight smile returned. “So when’s the official announcement?”
“What announcement?”
“You two. I’d ask Jimmy if it was serious, but he’s always serious, isn’t he?”
“Pretty much,” Ginger said. Jimmy mocked wounded pride and pulled away from her, but she held onto him tightly. “That’s why I like him,” she added.
“Just like?” Mark asked.
A smile grew on Ginger’s face, bright as any wheat field on a sunny day. Her transformation mirrored Jimmy’s own.
“Yeah…” Mark said. “I better get home and see how Vanessa’s doing.”
“Do you want somebody to watch over Molly tonight?” Jimmy asked.
Mark glanced toward the sheriff’s office and then at his shoes. “She’s not going anywhere.” He hiked up the collar of his heavy coat against the cold wind, stepped onto the cobbled street and hopped over a pothole. “Come get me if anything else happens. Otherwise, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Goodnight,” Jimmy and Ginger said together, and then they giggled.
• • •
Jimmy woke with the night pressing down on him, unsure of where he was, surrounded by the scent of flowers. Muffled whispering behind a closed door tugged at his consciousness. When a loud thud sounded and someone hissed, “Be quiet,” he became fully awake.
He jerked upright, realized he was still dressed, and recalled lying down next to Ginger and falling asleep. In his head, he heard Samuel laughing. Ginger was still dressed too. Her eyes were open with fear shining in their depths.
“Someone’s in the house,” she whispered.
Jimmy pushed his finger to his lips and signaled for her to climb out of bed. He pointed to the closet, but she shook her head in refusal. He frowned until she folded her arms across her chest, convincing him that her hiding wasn’t going to happen.
“What are you doing in my room?” The wall dampened Catherine’s voice. “Oh, it’s you.”
Jimmy and Ginger stared at each other. Jimmy broke eye contact and searched for a weapon. He was out of luck unless he wanted to hurl flowerpot projectiles.
“I’m not going to let you ruin this for me by saving that tall farm boy,” Jimmy heard Chase say. “Grab her and let’s get out of here.”
Panic flashed through Jimmy. He pointed at Ginger. “Go get help.” And then he shot through the door, rounded the corner and slammed into a solid mound of flesh. Patrick used Jimmy’s surprise against him and flipped him to the ground in the narrow hallway. Faster than Jimmy could react, he was being pummeled by heavy fists, first in the face, and then on the body, as if the big kid were wielding a sledge hammer.
A break came in the beating as Patrick tumbled over Jimmy into the living room with Ginger riding on the big kid’s back, pulling out fistfuls of his red hair. Without much effort, Patrick reached behind his head, grabbed hold of Ginger’s arms and hurled her into the wall. She hit the floor, flipped over and bounced up instantly, ready to get right back into the middle of the fight again.
Anger and a protective instinct channeled through Jimmy with a furious roar. He charged in low, heaved the big kid up and plowed him to the floor like he was trying to bury him under the crawlspace. Jimmy plunged a knee into Patrick’s stomach, satisfied by the boy’s anguished cry, and started swinging wildly. A couple of his punches bashed into Patrick’s chest with the similar feel of punching a tree trunk.
“Run! Go get help!” Jimmy yelled at Ginger.
She stumbled for the door while Jimmy kept laying blows. The big kid twisted underneath him and tried to buck him off, but Jimmy was not letting him up. He knew his life depended on keeping Patrick down.
Something hard slammed Jimmy in the side of the head and knocked him into the wall. His eyes blurred as he caved to the floor.
“Thanks for the help,” Patrick said.
“The pleasure’s all mine.”
The voice—female—sounded familiar. Jimmy struggled, focusing his blurry vision to look around and raise himself up.
“Now let’s have a little fun,” Patrick said.
Jimmy cried out once when Patrick began kicking him. Then he tried to cover up as his ribs gave way. He lay trapped in a heap against the wall and the big redheaded kid laughed like a maniacal serial killer while kicking him over and over.
“That’s enough,” Chase said.
Jimmy suffered through each breath he took. He never knew that this kind of pain was possible. Every inch of his body, inside and out, felt busted.
Chase bent down to face him. “We’re leaving now and we’re taking the girl. If you come after us, I will kill Michael and David. Or should I call them, Hunter and Scout.”
Terror flowed uncontained throughout Jimmy’s wracked body. He coughed and felt something wet on his chin. He brushed his long sleeve across his mouth and saw the dark blood staining his shirt.
“That is what happens when you send babes into the woods where the big bad wolves dwell. I’ve seen what affect their presumed deaths have on you and Vanessa. If you don’t follow us, I’ll release them when I’m ready.”
Chase’s feverish eyes glimmered from whatever light they stole from the darkness. His hot breath washed over Jimmy’s face as he whispered, “She will not save you.” He backed away and regarded Jimmy for a second. “I met your parents once. You look just like your dad.”
“What?” Jimmy said. “Wait, what are you talking about?”
“Don’t worry about it. That was over six years ago.” Chase crept away, the night shadows caressing him until he vanished in their embrace.
Jimmy shifted, and winced over the effort. “How’d you know she was here?”
“I made a new friend.”
Molly stepped into Jimmy’s line of sight, tapping the shovel from the fireplace against her leg. “Hunter will be so pleased to see me again. I’ll let him know how you’re doing.” She smiled and dropped the shovel on him.
Jimmy scowled at her. While his left eye continued to grow puffier every second, the vision in his right eye cleared some. He glanced among the small crowd and caught Catherine staring at him, her small form glowing. Jimmy’s miracle was being torn away and he was too broken to do anything for her except bleed. Without a trace of worry on her face, Catherine waved goodbye. Patrick pushed her towards the front door and the group silently filed out.
Molly turned to follow.
“What should I tell your brother?” Jimmy asked.
Her back straightened at the threshold. “What do I care?”
Jimmy tried sitting up but it was all he could do to keep breathing. Ginger burst past Molly and fell at his side. Her eyes were filled with shining tears that she kept from falling.
“I’m sorry, Jimmy. A girl tackled me outside and held me down. I couldn’t get away from her. I’m so sorry.”
Molly laughed like she’d just gotten the joke and it wasn’t very funny. “So this is who you’re in love with? Figures. You two deserve each other. You’re both pathetic.” Then she stalked out and slammed the front door.
Ginger bolted up with murderous fury. Jimmy grasped her ankle, refusing to let her go. “Don’t,” he said.
She knelt once more and held his hand to her cheek. Now her tears fell freely, sweeping over his skin. “What should I do?”
“Wait.” Jimmy closed his eyes. Out front he heard car doors screech open and bang shut. An engine turned over and then tires crunched across the gravel road.
He squeezed Ginger’s hand. “Wake Mark, find Samuel and get Luis here quick, I think I’m going to need him.”
Ginger hovered over him a second more before lightly kissing his forehead. Then she left. Jimmy kept trying to do the only thing he could. Breathe. Between his raspy gasps and whistles, he prayed for Hunter and Scout’s safe return.
TWENTY-THREE
Scout
Scout caught a whiff of the ascending smoke column illuminated in the early breaking dawn as he and Hunter approached Independents. Dread rode above him in the mobilizing clouds and when they stopped at their house, it plummeted down on him like another curse from heaven.
“What the hell happened to our house?”
Stifled laughter sounded from the rear of his motorbike. He twisted backward and scowled at Jolanda. Her bonds and the gag suppressed her from pretty much everything, so she employed her only option—waggling eyebrows.
Scout propped his Suzuki on its kickstand and lurched over to the smoldering desolation. He stumbled at the edge, woozy from the sight and the scent. His second-story bedroom and all his stuff were reduced to a pile of charred rubble strewn along the ground. The brick fireplace stood alone, towering, sturdy and totally unsupported. Metal pipes leftover from the plumbing zigzagged in the sky.
“What happened to all my stuff? How does a house just burn to the ground?” He turned on Hunter and narrowed his eyes. “You didn’t leave a candle burning, did you?”
Hunter raised his hands. “No way, we left in the middle of the day, remember? Maybe a spark from the fireplace shot out and landed on the sofa cushions.”
“Maybe!” Scout’s voice cracked from the jump in octave. “Maybe!” He clenched his fists. His skin tightened over his body. “What about all my stuff! I’ve been collecting for years. I planned on using that stuff someday and now it’s all gone, all of it. I don’t even have a baseball glove anymore. And you think a spark maybe set fire to a couch cushion!”
Hunter plucked the non-simmering end of a two-by-four off the concrete path that used to lead home. He hurled the survivor into the black destruction that they used to call home.
“It’s just a theory.”
They stopped speaking with little more to say to each other. Scout searched the mess with his eyes, hoping to find something salvageable of his belongings. After a while he realized the inspection was pretty much pointless. All the sorrow of loss he felt six years ago returned and dragged him down again. He concealed his tears with a quick swipe before Hunter saw them.
