by Robert Boren
“What’s so important about the names file?” Malcolm asked.
Frank brought up the long range, close in app, and turned the screen back towards Malcolm and George.
“Is that the Pentagon?” George asked, eyes wide.
“Son of a bitch,” Malcolm said.
Chapter 10 – Wally World
“That’s way too many enemy operatives in the Pentagon,” George said, a shocked look on his face.
“Look here,” Frank said, focusing on the congressional offices.
“Shit,” Malcolm said.
“A little infiltration is going to happen in any conflict,” George said. “This is critical mass. If we don’t do something about this, we’ll lose our country.”
“Look what’s been going on in Denver,” Jerry said. “No way should the enemy have a chance there.”
“Okay, so now I get the reason that the name file is so important,” George said. “How soon until these apps hit the street?”
“Pretty soon,” Frank said. “Just over a week.”
“I hate to say this, but that’s more important than General Hogan at this point. My advice is to stay on it. How close are you?”
“Really close,” Frank said. “That file you just sent to Sam Hinton was my final test.”
“So you could go in now and get it?” Malcolm asked.
“I need to wait a few hours,” Frank said. “Just in case. I’m thinking late afternoon today.”
“Alright,” George said, grinning.
“In the meantime, want to see what we found here?” Jerry asked.
“Yeah, it’ll keep us out of Frank’s hair, for one thing,” Malcolm said.
“Okay, then follow me,” Jerry said. They walked out of the clubhouse, which was now empty, leaving Frank to his work.
“Where’re we going?” George asked.
“The dungeon,” Jerry said. They entered the barn. Jane and Jasmine saw them come in.
“Taking them down there?” Jasmine asked.
“Yeah,” Jerry said. “Frank isn’t ready for the next round yet.”
“Is that a trap door?” Malcolm said, seeing the door propped up next to a big rectangular hole in the floor.
“That leads to the lounge,” Jerry said, a grin on his face. “C’mon.” He went down the ladder, George, Heidi, and Malcolm following. Jerry led them through the shop and storage area and into the lounge.
“Wow, this is nice,” Malcolm said. “That bar stocked?”
“Sure is,” Jerry said, grinning. “We spent more leisure time down here before we found the dungeon. There’s a few bedrooms and a bathroom down that hall over there, and you can see the kitchen to the right.”
“This looks like a pretty extensive bunker,” George said. “Look at the phony window in the kitchen. Interesting.”
Jerry pointed to the hallway that headed back in the direction of the clubhouse. “That hallway goes into a big pantry, under the kitchen in the clubhouse.”
“Oh, so you can get from the clubhouse to the barn underground?”
“Yep,” Jerry said.
“This looks like a bomb shelter to me,” George said. “Look at the ceiling. It’s concrete.”
“Definitely a good place to use if a twister shows up,” Jerry said. “We thought that’s what it was for at first.”
“It’s a little beyond your common root cellar,” Malcolm said, laughing.
Jerry went over to the rug near the recliners and rolled it back, revealing another trap door. “The dungeon is down here. Give me a hand. This trap door is heavy.”
The men helped Jerry lift the trap door and lay it back on the floor. Then Jerry went down the steps a little ways and pulled the chain for the light.
“Look at the rubber seal around this door,” George said.
“Soundproofing,” Malcolm replied.
“Come on down,” Jerry said. Malcolm and George followed him into the dimly lit room.
“Good Lord,” Malcolm said, looking around when he reached the floor.
“Are there bodies down here?” George asked.
“Maybe. There’s a part of the floor over there that’s dirt,” Jerry said, pointing. “Might be body parts buried there.”
“I doubt it,” Malcolm said. “Most of the victims were found, along Nighthawk Road, remember?”
“Hence the name Nighthawk,” Jerry said sheepishly.
Malcolm had an intense look on his face as he scanned the room. Jerry walked over to the workbench and pulled the light chain. Malcolm saw the bulletin board become visible. His mouth dropped open, and he rushed over there.
“I recognize some of these women,” Malcolm said, scanning the pictures. “Thought to be victims of the Nighthawk Road killer. I guess this confirms it. You haven’t told the authorities about this, have you?”
“Not yet,” Jerry said. “Our plan was to give Frank some time to finish off the apps, then try to take out the enemy leadership, and tell the authorities on the way out of here.”
“So you won’t have the damn media showing the enemy where you are,” Malcolm said.
“Exactly,” Jerry said. “Then we got contacted by you guys. I’ve done a little research on this. I think the son is still out there.”
“You agree with Malcolm, then,” George said. “He’s had an eye on this one for a while. Know who the owner of the park was?”
“Yeah, a man named Chet, who passed away six or seven years ago, and his son Scott.”
“Who told you that?” Malcolm asked.
“A guy named Howard, who owns a truck stop in town,” Jerry said. “Kurt, Hilda, and Charlie knew him from the old days, through Chet. There used to be an RV Park Owner’s Association; they all met because of that. Hilda’s late husband was apparently a good friend of Chet’s.”
“And Howard is the guy who told you about this RV Park?” George asked, as he watched Malcolm staring at the pictures on the board.
“Well, not exactly,” Jerry said. “We needed a place to stop after we got into Kansas, and Kurt thought that this park might still be open. He asked Howard about it when we arrived in town. Howard told us that it was deserted, and that Scott died in the New York City nuclear attack. He helped us get this place going again. Took a little wrangling with the local government.”
“Hey, Malcolm, what’re you looking at so closely there?” Heidi asked.
“Want to see Red Dagger? Here’s a picture.”
George and Heidi walked over and looked. “Scary looking character,” Heidi said. “His eyes remind me of Jason Beckler…the nose too. You don’t think they were related, do you?”
“Good question - and by the way, he was worse than he looked,” Malcolm said.
“No way, that’s Red Dagger?” Jerry asked as he walked up.
“Yeah,” Malcolm said. “Younger, of course. He was getting up there when I finally took him out.”
“Read about that,” Jerry said. “Nice job.”
Malcolm looked at him and grinned. “What, no questions?”
“Oh, I’ve got plenty of questions,” Jerry said. “But you won’t get any condemnation from me.”
“You okay, Heidi?” asked George, watching tears forming in her eyes.
“All these poor girls,” she said, looking at him and Malcolm with glassy eyes. “They were somebody’s daughters, and girlfriends, and sisters.”
“That’s the way it always is, honey,” George said, pulling her close and caressing her head as she started to sob.
Malcolm opened one of the top drawers on the work bench. It was full of teeth and glasses. Heidi looked in, and turned away quickly, still crying.
“Maybe you should get out of here, Heidi,” George said softly.
“This doesn’t bother you?”
“It very much bothers me,” he replied.
Malcolm opened up another drawer. There was jewelry and other personal effects in that one, mostly things that a teenage girl would have. Heidi glanced at that, and then left, climbing quickly u
p the steps.
“This was the first time she’s seen physical evidence of what the victims left behind, wasn’t it?” Malcolm asked.
“As far as I know, yeah,” George said, sighing.
“Maybe it’s good,” Malcolm said. “She might not be so bothered by our tactics.”
“Tactics?” Jerry asked.
“Yeah,” George said. “The killers that we go after usually don’t survive, in case you hadn’t noticed.”
“I did notice. Like I said, you’ll get no condemnation from me.”
“Well, how was it?” Scott asked as Howard got back into the coach.
“I feel dirty,” he said, as he went to the sink and washed his hands.
“You liked it, Howie.”
“Yeah,” he said. “That’s why I feel dirty.”
“How was she?”
“Defiant almost to the end. There’s always that point where they realize they aren’t going to live. It took a long time for her to get to there, but it was sweet when it happened.”
“You see, if we still had the dungeon, we could’ve had fun with her for weeks,” Scotty said.
Howard froze, and then shuddered. “Stop,” he said, sounding ashamed. He dried his hands and came back to the front of the coach, getting into the driver’s seat. “Where to now?”
“We ought to find some good action in St. Louis,” Scotty said. “Think you can drive 250 miles today?”
“Yeah, but I’m getting hungry,” he said as he started the engine, “and I didn’t have time to stock up the coach very well. Kept feeling like I was being watched as I was getting ready to leave my truck stop.”
“Yeah, sorry about that,” Scotty said, laughing. “Let’s go shopping before we leave the area, then. I know a place.”
Howard drove back onto the road, and got onto the interstate.
“So tell me about the interlopers,” Scotty said.
“Hell, they’re just old people,” Howard said. “Friends from the old days; you probably met Kurt and Hilda’s husband Ger when you were a kid. They used to go hunting with Chet every once in a while. They also stayed at the park back in the day.”
“How far back?”
“I’m guessing 60s or 70s,” Howard said. “Kurt was fond of your dad. I could tell by the way he talked about him.”
“My old man could be a charmer, and he only liked the teenage to early twenties women, so his friend’s wives were probably safe.”
“Yeah, probably,” Howard said.
“Get off here,” Scotty said. “There’s a Walmart down the road a piece.”
“Wally World, eh,” Howard said, getting off the interstate. “I used to have fantasies about grabbing somebody there, during an overnighter.”
“I have,” Scotty said. “Wouldn’t try it in broad daylight, though, so don’t get any ideas.”
“There it is,” Howard said. He made a left turn onto the lot, and parked in the far section, near two other motorhomes. As he shut off the engine, he saw a girl in her late teens come out of one of the coaches, crying. She rubbed her eyes and moved her long black hair back on her head as she hurried towards the store.
Scotty saw where Howard was looking. “Don’t get any ideas.”
“I’m not, just looking. C’mon, let’s get this over with. We have a lot of miles to go today.” They left the coach, heading for the front of the store. Howard grabbed a shopping cart on the way in.
“How long can you be away from the truck stop before it kills your business?” Scotty asked.
“Oh, probably about a week,” he replied as they headed for the grocery section. “I was going to be shut down for almost that long anyway. Ran out of fuel, and with the problems in Denver, all the deliveries are delayed. I’m going to need to call in, though, and postpone the delivery I set up. I’ll miss that by a day or two, and if they come out and can’t deliver, it’ll be another week.”
“I’m surprised you don’t have any help,” Scotty said. “To watch the store, that is.”
“Well, I do, actually, but I sent them all a message to take the week off. Don’t have anybody capable enough to run the place that I can trust.”
“Pity,” Scotty said. “Seems to me that you could use an extended road trip.”
They navigated the grocery aisles, grabbed what they needed, and headed for the checkout. The lines weren’t bad, and they were pushing their cart out onto the parking lot in no time. Howard unlocked the door of his coach, and held it open as Scotty carried in the first load. Howard loaded himself up with several bags and followed him in.
“Any more?” Scotty asked.
“Yeah, but I’ll get it. You go ahead and get stuff loaded in the fridge. There’s a pantry on the other side, by the bathroom door.”
Howard stepped out again, and picked up the last few bags. He put them on the kitchen counter, and then got out to push the cart over to one of the holding areas. He saw the girl coming back, and gave her a look. They locked eyes briefly, and then Howard looked away, embarrassed. He walked back over to the coach. She caught him by the door.
“Hey,” she said.
“Hi there,” Howard said, his heart beating harder. She was pretty, with blue eyes and pale skin framed by her straight black hair. She was trying to look sexy.
“Where you guys going?” she asked.
“East,” Howard said.
“Any chance I could catch a ride?” she asked.
“Now why would I want to take you anywhere?” Howard asked.
“I’d make it worth your while,” she said, smiling, looking hopeful.
“How old are you?”
“Old enough,” she said. “How old do you think I am?”
“Sixteen or seventeen,” Howard said, as he studied her.
“Don’t worry,” she said, smiling. “I ain’t jailbait. I’m nineteen.”
“Yeah, maybe,” Howard said. “Why would you want to go with us?”
“To get away from my bitch of a stepmother,” she said, her brow furrowed. “My dad passed, and I got left with her. I’ve had enough.”
Howard stood there, looking at her, gears turning in his head.
“Hey, Howard, c’mon. While we’re young,” Scotty said as he came out the door. He stopped in his tracks when he saw the girl. “Well, my my, who is this?”
“I don’t know,” Howard said. “She wants to escape her stepmother with us.”
“Really, now,” Scotty said. “That true, missy?”
“My name is Bree,” she said. She studied him, and he smiled back at her, turning on the charm.
“Forget it, Scotty,” Howard said. “Let’s take off.”
“Wait a minute,” he said. “We have room. Maybe we should help this poor girl out. What’s the harm?”
“You sure?” Howard asked, looking worried. “It’ll disrupt our plans.”
“We’ll just make her part of the plan,” Scotty said. “Where do you want to go, honey?”
“Away from here,” she said. “Where are you guys going?”
“East,” Scotty said. “We’ll try to make St. Louis today.”
“St. Louis, eh,” she said, smiling. “I could probably find work there.”
“Probably,” Scotty said. “C’mon, what do you say, Howie?”
Howard shook his head. “Fine, but let’s go.”
“You need to grab anything?” Scotty asked.
“Yeah, but it’s already in a bag, so it’ll just take a minute.”
“Okay, missy, go get it, and let’s blow this joint,” Scotty said.
She smiled broadly, and ran into the coach. There was yelling coming from inside. Then she bounded out of the door with a duffel bag, and ran over to Howard and Scotty.
“Everything alright?” Scotty asked.
“Not for her,” she said. “Most of daddy’s money is in a trust under my name.” She climbed into the coach, as a nasty looking, dried up old lady stomped over.
“You come out of there right now, Bree!�
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“Screw you!” came from inside the coach.
“I don’t think the young lady wants to go with you,” Howard said politely. “Please leave.”
“Like hell I will,” the woman said, attempting to kick Howard in the groin on the way into their coach. Scotty pulled his pistol and stuck it into her face. She froze.
“Hey Bree, what do you want me to do with this bitch?” he shouted.
“Kill her, for all I care,” she spat.
Scotty hit her on the head with his pistol, knocking her out cold. Howard caught her before she hit the pavement.
“Dammit, Scotty, there’s probably surveillance cameras all over the place,” Howard whispered, looking around.
“Let’s drag her in the door,” Scotty said. The two men wrestled her up into the coach.
“Drive,” Scotty said.
“Wow, did you really kill her?” Bree said, her eyes on fire, a scary grin on her face.
“Not yet,” Scotty said. “We’ll drive her out of town a ways.”
“You’re not really going to kill her?” she asked. “Are you?”
“Yeah,” he said. “Wanna help?”
Bree got a look of terror on her face, but it melted into a sly grin.
“Can I do it?” she whispered. Her face was red, her eyes wide and dilated.
“Seriously?” Howard asked from the driver’s seat, as he was pulling out of the parking lot.
“C’mon, Howie, what happened to your fun-loving nature?”
Howard sighed, and continued to drive. “Okay, we’d better do it before she comes to. I don’t want blood all over my coach, either.”
“I know a good dirt road nearby,” Scotty said, looking up at Bree. He winked at her.
They drove down the highway a few miles, silently. Scotty watched Bree’s face. Her excitement was starting to turn into apprehension. She just talks big, he thought to himself.
“How far?” Howard asked. “Getting sparse out here already.”
“Another mile, then take a right. You’ll see a couple of mail boxes,” Scotty said.
The stepmother started to moan, and move slowly on the floor.
“Dammit, she coming to already?” Howard asked.
“Yeah, but don’t worry about it,” Scotty said. “Turn there.”
Howard saw the road and slowed down, turning in, hitting the rough surface, coach jumping and lurching.
