She took his hand again and began running. They came to a dense thicket of brush and vines. She pointed to a small gap in the overgrowth. “Crawl in there. I’ll follow and hide the opening.”
With only one usable arm, Max had a hard time forcing his way into the thicket. Thorns ripped his flesh, but fear drove him deeper into the sanctuary.
Ada whispered. “That’s far enough. Make room to sit. We’re going to be here for a while. I don’t hear them shooting anymore. My brother’s are probably dead.”
Ada mentioning death opened a torrent of memory held in check by the desperate run. Max saw again his daughter raped. He gasped in despair.
“You okay. Did you rip your stitches?”
Max tried to speak but could only gasp again.
“Oh shit. Don’t freak out on me. Cry if you have to, but if you get loud, I’ll knock you out. My brother’s died to get us here.”
It was too dark inside the thicket for Max to see Ada, but he could tell she was near.
“They killed Bobby. Shot him in the head. They raped Kelly and Dorrie. Oh, God. I need to go back. I can’t leave them with those animals.”
“They’re dead. I saw them in the yard.”
“You can’t be sure.”
“I’m sure. Billy Ray emptied his rifle in them. My family’s dead too. We left Grandpa King inside your house. He took a bullet through his heart.”
“How could this happen?”
“Jeez, it happened. All right. Stop asking dumb questions and shut the fuck up. I need to think.”
Stunned by the vehemence of her words, Max withdrew into himself. After a few moments, he began to feel nauseous.
“Ada, I’m going to throw up.”
“You’ve probably got a concussion. I’m sorry I cursed at you. Jeez, it’s cold in here.”
Max didn’t hear her apology. He felt dizzy and passed out without throwing up.
When he woke, the sun was shining. He felt someone pressed against him and for a moment thought it was Dorrie. The terror of the previous night hit him like a physical blow. With a start, he opened his eyes and saw a dark face close to his. Ada opened her eyes and saw his. She pushed away and sat up.
“It turned cold last night. I had to get warm.”
“It’s okay.” Max attempted to sit too, mistakenly trying to use his broken arm to lever himself. He bit off a scream and fell back to his side.
“What’s wrong?” Ada asked.
“My arm feels broken. After they tied me up, they threw me down the stairs. That’s how my head got split.”
Ada said, “We slept a long time. The sun’s full up, but it looks like rain’s coming. I think it’s close to noon. Let’s get out of these weeds and take a look at your arm.”
He followed her from the thicket, gaining a few more scratches, felt thorns snag his stitches. Once out, he joined her in sitting on the ground.
This was the first chance Max had to really see Ada. Twigs tangled in her short-cropped frizzy black hair. Trickles of blood ran from several scratches on her face. Even though the sun was up, it gave little warmth, and she was shivering in the thin nightgown she wore. She saw him staring at the blood on her arms.
“The blood’s yours. You were bleeding like a cut pig. Let me see your arm. Scoot closer.”
Max moved to where she could examine his injury. He winced as she probed the flesh of his forearm.
“I’m not sure. I think the ulna’s cracked or maybe split a little but the bone’s intact. Try not to use it until we find something to rig a splint with.”
“Jacob told me you were good with electronics. Were you a nurse too?”
“No, but I worked as a nurse’s assistant for a couple years down in Atlanta while I attended DeVry University. You ready to go. I want to backtrack to see about my brothers.”
“Do you think it’s safe?”
“I don’t give a damn if it’s safe or not.” She stood and offered Max a hand. She noticed his hesitation to take it. “Don’t go macho on me.”
‘Give me a second. I need to tie my boots.”
She watched him fumble with the laces. “Here, I’ll do it.” She knelt, laced his boots tight, and tied them. She stood, and Max took her offered hand.
She was as tall as he was, but thin. The strength she used to pull him to his feet belied her delicate appearance.
The rain started as a thin mist that turned into a steady drizzle. Max followed in her footsteps, cold, lost, with no idea where he was in relation to anything. He saw his blood wash from her arms, drip pink from her fingertips. Thirty minutes later, they found Jacob lying on the forest floor. He was on his back with his head to the side. His chest was moving, his breath shallow and raspy. Ada ran to him and knelt by his side.
His eyes opened. “Hey baby girl. I knew I’d see you one more time. See you kept Max alive.” His voice was weak.
Max knelt beside Ada. He saw the water soaked circle of crimson on the right side Jacob’s lightweight jacket, centered on where his lung was. The rain was washing a wide rivulet of blood from underneath him.
“Help me get him up.”
“No baby girl. Best leave me lying here. No need causing more pain. I’m going to die. Lost too much blood.” Jacob turned his head to the side and coughed out a stream of phlegm and blood.”
“Shut up Daddy. We can carry you.”
“Ada. Hush now. I thought I was gone a while back, but somehow I’m still breathing.”
“Can we do anything? Max asked.
“To save me, no, but yes, you can do something for me. Otis is dead. When I die, all that’s left of the O’Donnell’s is my baby girl.
“This is not my last request. It’s an order. Ada. Max is a good man. From now on, the whole world is your enemy. Max, I’m asking you to keep my daughter safe. Don’t abandon her,”
“Daddy, don’t do this. I don’t know him. Please Daddy.”
“You heard me child. Don’t end with me in disrespect. I won’t leave you alone. You’ll stay with him and keep each other safe. There’s no one else. Promise me.”
“Daddy—.”
“That’s right, your daddy. Promise me, now!”
Ada burst into tears. “I promise, Daddy.”
Jacob turned his eyes to Max. “I’m laying my burden on you. Ain’t fair, but you’re all I got. What’s it going to be Max? Will you carry my load? You owe me your life.”
The full impact of the last hours settled onto Max’s shoulders. He could see himself in Jacob’s place, begging him to take care of Kelly.
“Yes I will. You have my word.”
“Treat her right. She’s a good woman.”
Jacob rolled his head and his chest heaved. A thick clot of blood shot from his mouth onto the dirt beside him. He spoke without moving his head to see them.
“Bury our dead and avenge our families. Kill every last one of them. My rifles under my back, mags in my pocket. Hid Otis. His rifle...”
Jacob groaned. A spasm traveled the length of his body. He managed to mutter, “Oh God.” He began coughing, ejecting thicker clots onto the ground. Death ended his agony.
Ada lifted her father’s lifeless head onto her lap. Silent, tears flowing from closed eyes, she rocked rhythmically back and forth. Max stood and walked a short distance from them, giving her space to grieve.
While he waited, she began singing in a soft, low voice, slowly growing in strength and volume.
Her face lifted to the sky, the rain, washing aside her tears.
There let the way appear, steps unto heaven;
all that thou sendest me, in mercy given;
angels to beckon me
nearer, my God, to thee;
nearer, my God, to thee, nearer to thee!
She finished singing and then turned to look at Max and spoke in short clipped sentences.
“I will obey my father. I’ll stay with you, stand with you, but if you push yourself on me, I swear I’ll kill you.”
Max moved t
o her, offering his hand to help her to her feet.
“Ada, I’ll honor my promise. I’m sure he would do the same for me if it were my daughter.”
She moved her father’s head gently from her lap and accepted his hand.
“Help me get the rifle. He laid on it so it wouldn’t get rained on.”
Using his good arm, Max grasped Jacob’s jacket and rolled him onto his side so Ada could remove the rifle. She searched his jacket for the spare mags. She found two empties which she handed to Max and then ejected the magazine from the rifle.
She snapped the magazine back in. “Nine rounds left. Let’s find Otis. Daddy said he hid him and his AR. We’ll both be armed.”
Ada was skilled in the woods. Max asked how she knew where to go. She claimed she’d spent more time in the forest than Otis and her father combined.
They found Otis’s body a hundred yards inside the tree line, not far from Max’s home. Jacob hid him by the trunk of a fallen tree and covered him with ground litter. A bullet had removed a large chunk from the side of his head, exposing bone and brains. His AR 15 was beside him. In addition to a partial magazine in the rifle, he had a full one along with an empty in his pants pocket.
Ada stood above her uncle’s body. “I don’t have any tears left, Uncle Otis. I’ll cry for you later. Right now, Max and I are going to stay alive so we can get more bullets and kill the bastards who did this. We have to so we can bury you and the rest of our folks.”
Though he couldn’t see his farm from where he stood, Max looked in that direction. He knew what was there, and he did have tears left to cry. They burst forth, the power of his grief, dropped him to his knees. After several minutes, he turned to Ada.
“I failed them. Kelly was smart. She wanted to hide in the woods, but I procrastinated. Never took her serious. I should have. It’s my fault they’re dead.”
Ada shook her head and replied fiercely to his words. “That’s a damn lie. Billy Ray Dobbs and his kin, in cahoots with the Simpson’s, killed our people. It’s their fault and that’s why you and I are going to kill them all. Help me get the clothes off Otis. I’m soaked and freezing and I don’t need to be running around in this thin nightgown giving you thoughts.”
Max normally would have replied with a witty rejoinder, but his heart was somewhere else. Otis had a wicked, serrated knife in a scabbard attached to his belt. Ada used it to punch a hole in the belt so she could keep the pants from falling off. She used it again to cut the pants and jacket arms to length.
“Max. I’m more familiar with this area than you are. We’re soaking wet. One of your stitches has popped loose and I need to splint your arm. Are you still seeing double?”
“No, that was gone when I woke the last time.”
“Good. You probably didn’t suffer any permanent brain damage. Six miles from here, in the direction we ran last night, there’s a hunter’s cabin my family’s used for years. We can build a fire in the fireplace. I know food’s stored there, maybe some clothing and maybe ammo. I don’t know. I do know, if we don’t get warm, dry off, and take care of ourselves, we’re going to get sick.”
The stress of the previous night, blood loss and his injuries had taken a toll on Max. He could barely keep up with Ada. The rain changed to a steady downpour. Wearing only a tee and sweats, it chilled him bone deep.
It was after dark before they entered the rustic, one room cabin. Max was barely able to stagger across the threshold. Ada took his arm and guided him to a cot and that was it. He passed out from exhaustion.
CHAPTER EIGHT
He was in the kitchen with his arm around Dorrie’s waist. She was using a fork to turn slices of spam sizzling in the frying pan.
“Wake up. Breakfast is ready.”
Caught halfway between dream and reality, Max was confused. “I am awake, darling.”
“What?”
Understanding came. He snapped fully awake and saw Ada standing at a wood-burning stove. She was dressed in a different set of ill-fitting, male clothing. She’d washed the blood from her hands and arms, and cleaned the scratches on her face.
“I’m sorry. The smell of spam…, Dorrie was there... here.”
“Woke you out of a dream, didn’t I? Do me a favor. Keep the blanket wrapped around you. Your clothing is still drying.”
Max touched his hip and realized he was naked. The arm he moved scraped against his side and felt weird. He lifted it from under the covers and saw the ends of three round sticks protruding from under strips of blue cloth wrapped from the wrist to the elbow of his injured arm.
Ada saw him looking. “Yep, you’re splinted. Ripped strips from a perfectly good sheet just for you. The sticks should’ve went to the armpit, but at least this way you can bend your elbow and get some use from the arm.
“Thank you Ada. I don’t know how you had the strength to do what you did last night, but thank you.”
“You were gone the moment you hit the bed. You didn’t make a sound while I splinted your arm. Keep your blanket tight and go to the table. Fried Spam, rehydrated scrambled eggs, and a tall glass of powdered milk. Gourmet chow.”
“Yummy.” Max swung his legs from the cot, adjusted the wool blanket so it’d stay wrapped, and stood, emitting a groan as he did so. “I’m hurt all over. I’ve got a headache.”
“You were thrown down a flight of stairs,” Ada said, putting a plate and a glass on the table.
Max walked stiffly to the table and groaned himself into a chair. Ada returned with her plate and glass and sat across the table from him.
“I don’t want to say this, but the cut is going to need two replacement stitches. Are you hurt anywhere other than your arm and forehead?”
“Bruised all over, but no,” Max said, speaking around a mouthful of food. “How about you? Are you injured?”
“I’m fine. The reason I asked is I’m going to be leaving you alone today. You’d slow me down. I need some things... We need some things. I’m going to walk to a friend I worked with on my last job, the nurse assistant one. We need clothing, a sewing kit for your head. We need coats. I want to get us backpacks. There’s just one roll of toilet paper in the outhouse.”
“Are you sure, Ada? Will it be safe for you to be traveling alone?”
“I don’t think the word, safe has meaning anymore, but it’s only fifteen miles to where I’m going. I can skirt through the woods most of the way. Just have to use common sense at the tricky parts. Max I’d like us to hide here for a few days. Give you time to heal and rest. Time for us to make plans.”
“I think that would be a good idea,” Max said. “You remember how your grandfather would brag about being a straight shooter. Are you a straight shooter, Ada? Will you come back? You made a promise to your father under duress. He wanted me to be your protector, but you’re more of a survivor than I am. I’ll understand if you want to go your own way. Just tell me, so I won’t wait here for no reason.”
“You think I’d lie to my father or to you?”
“No, I don’t think you would, but it would set better if I hear it from you.”
“I made a promise to my father on his death. I have no intention break it. Now Max, turnabout, tell me, do you want me to come back or do you want to go your own way.”
“I made a promise too. I intend to stand by it, if that suits you.”
“Max. My brothers spoke high on you. I reckon I could do worse and don’t have many options. My family has always been... Let me put it this way. To the whites, we were uppity blacks and to the blacks, we were wanna be whites. We didn’t fit in and none of us had friends growing up. I’ll come back. The worlds too messed up to go it alone.”
“I’m glad,” Max, said.
“That’s settled then.” Ada stood to take her empty plate and glass to the counter. I’m leaving now. Don’t waste drinking water. Wash the plates and glasses with dirt for the grease and wipe them clean with a rag. There’re some cans of beef stew to eat when you get hungry.”
&
nbsp; She went to the door of the cabin and bent for the straps of an olive-green canvas bag. “Don’t get to dwelling on things too much. If your mind goes to the wrong place, make it stop. Take a walk or something.”
“I will. Be careful Ada.”
“Thanks. Oh. I’m taking two full mags with me. In the wooden bin under the kitchen counter are two boxes of 5.56s. The empty mags are with the dirty clothing I took off. Reload them. I’ve cleaned Otis’s rifle as best I could. It’s got a full mag.”
She took her rifle from where it leaned by the door and left.
Max felt the tee shirt and sweatpants he’d worn to bed the night of the attack. Ada hung them on a jury-rigged clothesline at the rear of the cabin above the cot. The shirt was dry, but the sweats were damp.
After a painful attempt to pull on his shirt, he passed on dressing, wrapped the blanket more securely, and gathered the used dishes and utensils into a large plastic tub. Outside, the sky was beginning to clear, but the sun did little to mitigate the cold morning chill. His breath frosted as he breathed out. He set the pan close to a small pool of rainwater and turned to survey his environ.
The cabin was framed natural timbers and enclosed with unpainted plywood. The sheet metal roof sported a black exhaust pipe for the wood-burner inside. Only a thin wisp of dissipating smoke came from it.
The front porch, sized disproportionately large for the cabin, seemed a later addition. There were six wooden chairs on the porch, two of them rockers.
Trees removed from around the cabin gave a twenty feet clear space. There was no driveway or visible path leading to it. Max strained to hear sounds indicating people or traffic, but heard only the chirping of birds and the rustling of branches in the light wind. His thoughts went to Kelly’s plea to move into the woods…, to a place like this.
Ten minutes later, Ada’s words came to him. His mind, as she put it, had gone to the wrong place. He rose from his knees, not remembering kneeling, and dried his eyes. He stifled a final sob and moved to squat beside the pan of dirty dishes and used dirt, and muddy water to scrub them. He wiped them as clean as he could with his hands and carried them back inside.
DISASTER: Too Late to Prep Page 11
