Turning back inside the three-sided barn, DJ busied himself with making an area to rest. The old tin roof was leaking in a few spots, but considering how hard it was raining, it was doing an admirable job of keeping the interior mostly dry. He hung his hammock up between two of the support beams and tied his poncho over the hanging bed to deflect the few drops finding their way inside. He climbed in to get some sleep but found that his excitement wouldn’t let him unwind.
He’d dealt with bums like the one who had tried to mug him before. They would often try to find a spot in or around the mall to sleep or eat for free. Some of them were downright disgusting. He didn’t know how anyone could live the way they did. Many times, he’d run them off, only to find them later on the other side of the huge shopping complex. He had always wanted to send a real message to the most persistent ones, much as he’d done today. However, the owners of his place of employment were worried about getting sued, so security was only allowed to use force if someone was being attacked. The rules of engagement were clear, and DJ wasn’t allowed to do more than escort them off the premises unless they posed a clear and imminent threat to patrons or employees of the large establishment. The bums all knew this, and they’d come back over and over again. It always pissed DJ off.
He found himself laughing out loud. It would be a long time before that guy tried to sneak up on a victim again. DJ, despondent over the loss of his gear just a few hours ago, was almost giddy now. It wasn’t that he’d really enjoyed kicking the bum’s ass, even if the vagrant had it coming. It was the understanding that he was no longer bound by the rules that had once dictated his actions. He was in charge now. It was his world.
Realizing that it would be a while before he would be able to sleep, he cooked a big lunch. He was about to start eating when he heard the gunshot.
* * *
Gabe was fuming. He was mopping the kitchen floor to clean up the bourbon. This was the second time he’d thrown something in the last few days. The glass hadn’t broken, but it had left a nice crescent-shaped dent in the refrigerator. That’s not why he was mad, though. He didn’t really know what was bothering him, but the anger had kept him from drinking, so perhaps it was a good thing.
After the mess was cleaned up, Gabe busied himself with washing his dirty clothes. He filled one side of the sink with hot water and some detergent and started scrubbing the clothes he’d worn the last two days. He began with the whites and worked his way up to his dirtier outerwear. His anger seemed to recede in relation to the dirt that ebbed out of his clothes. When he was finished rinsing the garments, he took them outside to hang on the line. The sky looked like rain, and he hoped it would hold off long enough for his clothes to dry.
His garden needed attention, and he used the last few hours of daylight to weed and harvest. Just before dark, he took the clothes off the line and noted that everything except for his jeans was dry. He hung those over the vinyl-covered chairs in the kitchen and put the rest away. Dinner was simple yet filling, and he went to bed early.
The next morning, Gabe was up with the sun. He planned to go to town, but he didn’t know if Jane would still want to go with him after he’d left so quickly yesterday. He wasn’t sure why what she had said bothered him so much. He knew it was just an expression and that it didn’t mean anything.
He dressed and cooked breakfast. Using the stove made him wonder how much propane there was in the tank. In the summer, he only used it for the stove and the water heater and that only took a minimal amount. However, in the winter, he also heated the trailer with it. The three-hundred-gallon tank would only last a couple of months in the cold. He would check to see how much he had after breakfast.
When he was about to sit down and start eating, he heard a knock on the door. He took caution as he answered it, and was slightly taken aback when he saw Jane standing in front of him.
“Good morning,” he said awkwardly.
“Good morning,” she replied. She stood there for what seemed a long time.
“You want to come in?” Gabe finally asked.
“Sure,” she said, stepping into the house. “That smells good.”
“Just some of your eggs I scrambled up. You want some?”
“No. I was talking about the coffee.”
“I’ll get you a cup,” Gabe said, thankful for something to do.
He walked into the kitchen and poured Jane a cup. Turning around, he was surprised to find Jane right behind him.
“Here you go,” he said, extending the cup to her. “You sure you don’t want some breakfast?”
“No. I already ate, but you go ahead and eat.”
Gabe sat down and started to eat. Jane stood for a moment and then pulled out a chair across the table from him and sat down. He felt like a heel for not offering her a seat, but he was thankful Jane didn’t say anything. It had been so long since he’d entertained any company that he wondered what else he was forgetting. He kept his eyes on his plate, devouring the eggs as if he hadn’t eaten in a week. When he was finished, he pushed the plate away and saw Jane smiling at him. The look on her face made him uncomfortable.
“The coffee’s good,” Jane said.
“You want some more?”
“Yes, please.”
Gabe got up and topped off both of their cups.
“Thanks, Gabe. Are you still planning to go to town?”
“Yeah, I guess. Did you still want to go?” he said as he scratched at an invisible stain on the table.
“Absolutely,” she answered with just a little too much enthusiasm for Gabe’s liking. “I want to see if I can trade my dad’s old pocket watch for a .22 like you were talking about for Robby. Would you help me pick one out?”
Gabe remembered the woman at the store had mentioned that the gun store wasn’t selling any firearms. Of course that might not be true, and he really didn’t want to get into a long, drawn-out conversation about it with Jane, so he just nodded.
“Did you bring some eggs to sell to the grocer?” he asked.
“Yes. I have almost six gross.”
“You want to take your truck or mine?” Gabe asked.
“The eggs are already in mine. Plus, I want to try to get some gas.”
“Okay. Just let me grab my buckets, and we can go.”
“Need some help?” she asked.
“No. I can get it.”
Gabe had to make three trips to get all of the buckets of vegetables he wanted to take to town. Jane stood next to the truck and watched him go back and forth. Once the buckets were in the back of her truck, they started to town. Neither of them said anything for several miles. Gabe was glad for the quiet, not just because he was uncomfortable with making small talk. It allowed him to think about the things he needed.
All of a sudden, he slapped his head.
“What is it?” Jane said with a measure of alarm in her voice.
“Nothing really. I just meant to check and see how much propane I had left.”
“Are you getting low?”
Questions like this were why he didn’t like to talk to people, Gabe thought, mentally rolling his eyes at the question. He decided to be civil, though. “That’s what I wanted to check and see,” he said.
“I should probably check mine, too,” Jane said. “There are so many things we might need if things don’t return to normal. I just don’t know where to begin with the limited budget I have.”
She paused, and Gabe knew she was waiting for him to say something, but he had no idea how to respond. He could see the disappointment on her face, and they remained quiet the rest of the way to town.
They first stopped at the grocery store. The line was longer than it had been last week. The manager agreed to buy the eggs at one dollar a dozen, and he bought all of Gabe’s produce for forty dollars. They knew they could have
made a lot more by selling their fare themselves, but they had more pressing business to attend to.
They got into the long grocery line to spend the money they’d just received. Gabe didn’t know if they were letting more people into the store at one time or if the whole process was working more smoothly, but it didn’t seem to take as long for them to get to the front as it had before. Once they were inside, it was obvious that it wouldn’t take long to select their purchases from the limited items available. The store had gotten a shipment, but it must not have been very diverse. There was a plentiful supply of a few items, but most of the shelves were bare. He was able to get some salt this time, and he found some cans of generic Spam. There was still no cheese, and even the expensive candles were gone now. They both moved smoothly through the checkout line, and fortunately, there were no incidents in the parking lot this time.
The next stop was the gun store. It wasn’t just a gun store but a pawnshop, as well. It had been many years since Gabe had been in the shop, but the fat slob of an owner looked exactly as Gabe had remembered. He was leaning over the counter looking at a large diamond ring through a jeweler’s loupe. Two employees were also behind the counter on opposite sides of the store, and they watched every move Gabe and Jane made. They each had a handgun on their side, and Gabe noticed several shotguns and rifles propped up behind the counter at regular intervals.
“Help you?” the fat man said as he stood up straight and slid the ring into his pocket.
Gabe looked at Jane and saw that she wanted him to do the talking. “Yes,” he said. “First, I need some ammunition.”
“I don’t have much left. What kind of gun do you need it for?”
“A Marlin lever-action,” Gabe answered.
“Sorry. I’ve been out of .30-30 since week before last.”
“No, it’s .35 caliber.”
“I might be able to help you there,” the man said as he waddled to a shelf. He returned a minute later with three very dusty boxes of .35 Remington cartridges and set them on the shelf. “Anything else?”
“You got any .357?”
“Nope. But I’ve got some .38 Special +P left. You want it?”
“Yeah, give me a couple of boxes. How about twelve-gauge buckshot?”
“Sorry. We’re all out of twelve-gauge except for some steel-shot duck loads.”
“How about .22s?” Gabe asked.
“Pretty much out of it, too, except for some high-dollar match ammo.”
“Are you going to get any more?”
“I hope so,” the man said, “but God only knows when. If you need some, you better get what I have.”
“That’s all right. I probably have enough to last awhile. How much is this?”
“Let’s see, it’s forty bucks a box for the .38s, and I’ll let you have the rifle ammo for twenty-five dollars a box. That comes to a hundred and fifty-five even.”
Gabe raised his eyebrows at the quote. “That’s a little high, isn’t it?”
“Hey, you don’t have to buy it. If you think you can find a better deal somewhere else, then go for it.”
“What if we bought a rifle, too?” Jane asked. “Would you discount the bullets then?”
“Lady, I can’t sell any guns. The FBI isn’t answering the phone, so I can’t do the background check.”
“I didn’t want to buy one. I was hoping to trade for one for my son.”
“It don’t make no difference, lady.” The man sounded exasperated. “What did you want to trade?” he asked a second later with just a hint of curiosity.
“This.” Jane reached into her purse and handed the man her father’s watch.
The man opened the watch, and Gabe saw his eyes widen with glee for a split second. He quickly regained his signature look of eternal boredom as he examined the relic for another minute.
“I tell you what I can do. I have a .22 that’s my personal weapon. I could trade you that and three hundred rounds of .22 for it. I really shouldn’t. This thing isn’t worth much, but I just happen to like old watches, and I’m in a generous mood today. Let me get the rifle for you to look at.”
He disappeared through a door for a moment and returned with a beat-up rifle. He handed it to Jane, who passed it over to Gabe. The name on the rust-pitted barrel said Revelation. He pulled the bolt back and saw it was filthy inside. Gabe knew it was a piece of crap, mostly because it hadn’t been given the proper care. He set it back down on the counter.
“Give us a minute, will you?” Gabe asked the man as he pulled Jane back toward the entrance.
“Jane,” he whispered, “I don’t know what that watch is worth, but it’s way more valuable than that piece-of-crap rifle.”
“But I really need to get Robby a rifle,” she said.
“I know, but you need to get him one that will work. I doubt that thing will even shoot straight.”
“I guess I could throw in all the ammo you want, too,” the fat man hollered.
“What do you think?” Jane asked in a voice low enough so only Gabe could hear.
“I think that if he’s willing to break the law by selling a gun without a background check for that watch, it must be worth a lot more than you know. I won’t let you do this. I have a rifle Robby can have, but we’re not trading your watch.”
Gabe was surprised at himself. He wasn’t sure if it was because he was being so assertive or that he’d offered to give away the .22 he had bought for Michael a long time ago.
“Whatever you say, Gabe.”
His surprise for himself was overshadowed by the look on Jane’s face. It was respect.
CHAPTER 12
Gabe went back to the counter. “We’re going to pass on the rifle,” he told the man. “I’m only going to take the rifle ammo and one box of the .38s.”
“I have a better rifle you might be interested in,” the fat man said quickly. “It’s worth a lot more than this one, but I think I could still swap you even and throw all the ammo in, too.”
“No, thanks,” Gabe said as he held his hand out for the watch. The man reluctantly placed it in Gabe’s palm with a longing last look. Gabe carefully handed it back to Jane, then dug into his pocket and pulled out a small roll of bills. He peeled off a hundred and fifteen dollars and handed it to the man. Then he picked up the four boxes of ammo he’d paid for and he and Jane turned to leave.
“I could sweeten the pot some if you change your mind,” the shop owner called out as they walked out the door.
Gabe waved good-bye with his free hand without turning around. He opened the passenger door on Jane’s truck and placed his ammo on the front seat. By the time he climbed in, Jane had the engine running, and they backed out onto Main Street.
“Thanks, Gabe,” Jane said.
“No problem,” he replied. “I hate guys like that. I have no problem with anyone making a profit, but it was obvious he was trying to take advantage of you. That watch must be very valuable.”
“No . . . what I meant was, well, thanks for watching out for me, too, but I was thanking you for offering the rifle to Robby.”
Gabe was quiet for a long minute. He thought he’d be sorry he had made the offer, but somehow he was excited. He was actually looking forward to seeing Robby’s face when he gave it to him and was eager to teach him how to shoot it. He felt, well, he had no words for how he felt. “You’re welcome,” was all he said.
Jane pulled into the line at the gas station. It wasn’t too long, and soon it was their turn. Signs read ONLY TEN GALLONS PER FAMILY. NO GAS CANS. Gabe got out of the truck to pump the gas. Before he could pick up the nozzle, a man rushed toward him.
“I’ll do that!” he yelled.
Gabe took a step back to give the younger man room. The man wore a grease-stained, one-piece coverall. HARRY was embroidered on one side an
d the name of the station on the other. Gabe found it ironic that Harry had a shaved head. There was a gun belt and holster around his waist, which held a ridiculously long-barreled stainless steel revolver.
“Six dollars a gallon, paid in advance,” Harry said.
Jane leaned out the window and handed Gabe three twenty-dollar bills that he passed to Harry.
“That’s a big hog leg,” Gabe said to the attendant.
“Yep,” Harry replied, patting the holster that was obviously made for a much smaller gun. “Forty-four Magnum. The most powerful handgun in the world.”
Gabe wasn’t a gun nut, but he knew that there were more than a few handguns more powerful than the .44 nowadays. There was no point discussing it with Harry, though. The way he said it made it clear that he believed it to his core.
“You fellows having any trouble?” Gabe asked, noticing that the other attendant was also armed. His pistol wasn’t as big as Harry’s, though.
“Not yet, but we’re ready for it,” Harry said smugly.
A minute later, he was hanging up the hose. Gabe thanked him and climbed back into the truck.
“He was a little gung ho, wasn’t he?” Jane asked.
“Just a little. But they’re probably smart being armed. In fact, if it was my station, I’m not so sure that I wouldn’t have three or four more guys just standing around with rifles to make a bigger show of force.”
“Do you think they’re going to get attacked?”
Gabe exhaled a long breath. “It’s only a matter of when,” he said. “We’ve been lucky so far, probably because we’re so far away from the big city, but as things get worse, and they probably will, the riffraff will make its way out here. We have a pretty good sheriff’s department, and they’ve activated all the reserve deputies, but they can’t cover the whole county. If push comes to shove, I don’t know if they can even keep the town safe.”
Collision Course Page 10
