That was her intention. But it didn’t work out that way.
She heard the fire engines when she was still a mile from home. Smelled smoke too.
But somehow she didn’t put two and two together until she turned off Churchill Boulevard and onto Shady Tree Lane.
Only then did she look down the street and see her house fully engulfed in flames.
Thankfully Melvyn was in the neighbor’s yard. He was confused and dazed, but not harmed.
“I don’t know what happened,” he told his wife. I walked over to Hal’s to return the power cord I borrowed, and the house just blew up behind me. The blast was so powerful it knocked me into Hal’s flower beds.
“I’ve asked the fire department what could have possibly caused such a blast. They said it was almost certainly a leaking natural gas line.”
The federal government had made its first and second mistakes.
Their first mistake was to assume that because they were usually home on a Tuesday night they’d be there on this particular night.
The second was to try to blame their explosion on a natural gas leak.
Had they checked, they’d have learned the Lupsons had upgraded their home the previous year. It was now all-electric, and the gas line going to their home had been disconnected.
“Melvyn,” she said through trembling lips, “This was no accident. We’ve got to get out of here, and we’ve got to do it now.”
The couple had already discussed the possibility they might come after Gwen.
Melvyn was a bit skeptical at first, but was now a believer.
They put their plan into action by jumping into their car and driving straight to the airport.
Inside the trunk were their bug-out bags in military duffels. One for each of them. They contained clothing, one piece of identification, one seldom-used but now essential credit card, and toiletry items.
Their destination wasn’t really that important, for they didn’t plan to be there for long.
Looking at the departure board, they opted out of Chicago and decided on Dayton, Ohio.
As they boarded their flight and took their seats, Melvyn whispered to his wife, “Now I know how Joe must have felt for all these years.”
“What do you mean, dear?”
“I know I’m just being silly, but I think everyone I see is watching us. I imagine them all to be government agents, and think that at any moment they’re going to produce weapons and lunge at us.”
“Oh, my goodness. I’ve been thinking exactly the same thing.”
The flight to Dayton was uneventful, though. No one challenged or accosted them. At first they were a bit embarrassed at their paranoia. But then they realized that being on their toes and wary of strangers was actually a good thing. They’d avoided death once, and in all likelihood the government wouldn’t just give up.
“I think whoever blew up the house probably left the area to avoid suspicion,” Melvyn opined. “They’ll assume they’ve accomplished their dirty deed until they learn the fire department discovered no bodies in the wreckage. That’ll buy us a couple of days, but no more. We’ve got to move fast.”
At Dayton International Airport Melvyn walked up to the Imperial Rent-A-Car counter and placed his bag at his feet.
“I’d like a medium sized sedan for multi-state travel.”
“Do you have a reservation, sir?”
“No, I don’t.”
“Very well. We’re running a promotion for a free upgrade today. I can give you a Sonata for a mid-sized price. Have you driven one?”
“No, I haven’t.”
“You’ll love it. Very roomy and comfortable. Drives like a dream. It’ll be thirty nine dollars a day with unlimited mileage. Will you be providing your own insurance?”
The answer was no. The couple’s auto insurance cards burned up in their house.
“No. I’ll take your optional insurance.”
“Very well. I’ll need to see your driver’s license. Optional insurance is ten dollars a day.
“How many days will you be needing the car, sir?”
“Three days should do it.”
He handed the clerk his driver’s license, hoping he wouldn’t look at the expiration date. It was actually the old license he was supposed to have destroyed when he got it renewed four months before. Instead of cutting it up, though, he’d placed it inside his bug-out bag.
“That’ll be one hundred eighty two dollars after tax and fees.”
Luckily the credit card wasn’t expired as well.
Chapter 6
The next day the Lupsons had made it as far as Taylor, Michigan, a suburb of Detroit.
If the government knew they were still alive, they likely also knew they’d rented a car in Dayton.
The car, therefore, had become a liability.
Cruising up one residential street and down another, they finally found what they were looking for on Champagne Avenue.
It wasn’t much to look at. A 1966 Chevy Impala. It was sparkling new back in the glory days of Detroit and was produced not far from its present location.
The car, like the city itself, had lost much of its luster. Its paint was faded and peeling, the rust had taken its toll.
And judging by the “For Sale” sign in its window, it had worn out its usefulness for its present owner.
The price was right.
Four hundred dollars.
They’d taken out a thousand, from two different ATMs using two different credit cards. They’d exhausted their cash limits on both cards, but figured a thousand should be enough to get themselves a set of wheels.
Turns out it was way more than enough.
Melvyn knocked on the door at 48180.
“Hello. I was looking at the car out front. Does it run?”
“Hold on. It belongs to my son. He’s in the basement.”
Half a minute later a young man appeared. He was red-headed and pale, heavy freckles competing with the pimples on his thin face.
“Hi. You’re interested in my car?”
“Yes. But only if it runs.”
He smiled.
“Oh, it runs all right. I know it doesn’t look like much. But I’ve driven it all through high school and only had to replace the battery.”
As he spoke the two walked out to the front of the house and walked around the old Impala.
The boy handed Melvyn the keys.
“Go ahead, start it up. You’ll be surprised at how quiet the motor is.”
Melvyn cranked over the engine. It did indeed run smoothly for a car of its age.
The young man continued, “My folks gave it to me for my sixteenth birthday. As I said, I drove it for three years to and from school and to and from my part-time job. Never had any trouble with it. It’s very dependable.”
“How come you’re selling it?”
“I’m going off to college in the fall. Syracuse University. I’m leaving it here because I don’t know that it’ll last very long driving to and from New York State three or four times a year. My dad has agreed to loan me the down payment on a newer car. So I don’t need this one any more.
“As much as I’ll miss her, I no longer need her. She’s become a trusted friend, and I’d like to send her to a good home.”
“Mind if I take her around the block?”
“No, not at all.”
He jumped into the passenger seat and Melvyn pulled away from the curb.
Gwen watched from the rental car parked on the curb behind them and hoped they weren’t gone long.
She’d developed a habit of constantly looking around her, expecting to be surrounded by a swarm of unmarked cars and arrested at any moment.
Or shot by someone in a passing car.
It took no time at all for Melvyn and the boy to circle the block and to come up behind her.
By the time they got out of the old Chevy Melvyn knew the boy’s name, Jacob, and had agreed to the purchase.
Under one condition.
“Do you have a clear title for the car?”
“Sure. It’s inside. Come on in and I’ll sign it over to you.”
Sitting at Jacob’s mom’s dining room table the two completed the deal. Melvyn swapped four hundred dollars in twenties for a duly signed Michigan Certificate of Title.
Five minutes later Melvyn pulled away in the Chevy again, Jacob waving goodbye from the porch and feeling a tinge of sadness at seeing his old friend leave his life.
Gwen drove close behind her husband in the rental car.
They went straightaway to a nearby Imperial Rent-A-Car outlet, arriving there just before five p.m.
That wouldn’t do.
They waited out front, on the street, for twenty minutes until the office closed.
Then Melvyn pulled into the lot, parked the car in a sea of others just like it, and dropped the keys and rental agreement in the glove box.
His reasoning was sound.
If the government was indeed onto them and looking for the car, they certainly would have directed all Imperial outlets to notify them immediately when and where the car was returned.
Now, in all likelihood, such notification wouldn’t occur for a day or two.
And hopefully they’d be long gone.
They left and went to eat, having several hours to kill before the next step in their escape plan.
That evening the Lupsons pulled into a Walmart in the Detroit suburb of Spence, Michigan, parked the car and got out to stretch their legs.
Now was the tricky part.
The Walmart had been selling ham radios of late, and had one on display. The trouble was, it was behind the counter and wasn’t plugged in.
Melvyn had to figure out how to convince the store employees not only to let him plug it in and turn it on, but also to use it.
And without being hooked to an external antenna, since the unit was for display only, he didn’t even know if the signal would be strong enough for Joe Morgan to hear.
At just before midnight Melvyn and Gwen strolled into the electronics section and pretended to be paying customers.
Chapter 7
In just a few minutes it would be twenty one hundred hours Pacific Time, and Joe would have his own ham radio on in case the pair called him.
The third shift at Walmart, from midnight to eight a.m., is called the graveyard shift for a reason.
Things are generally dead. Few customers grace the store, and are typically outnumbered by night stockers putting things on the shelves.
That’s especially true of the electronics section.
There just aren’t a lot of people who show up late at night to buy televisions or laptops.
The sole clerk on duty in the electronics department was busy stacking DVD players on an end cap when Melvyn walked up and said he had some questions about the ham radio behind the sales counter.
He happily hopped up from the job at hand, deciding he needed a break anyway.
“I’ll try to answer your questions,” the clerk said. “But I’m no expert. If I can’t tell you what you need to know you can come back for the demonstration. It’s every day this week from three to five.”
“Demonstration?”
“Yes. Rototron Electronics has people here demonstrating it to our customers. They let them get on it and call all over the world. I was off yesterday and came by to buy groceries, and there was a kid talking on the radio to somebody in Australia.”
“Wow! It reaches that far?”
“Yes,” the clerk answered as he pointed out a black cable that extended upward from the back of the unit to the ceiling of the store, then ran horizontally though the steel support system.
“They said it normally requires a back yard antenna, but for the demonstrations they ran cable to the back of the store. It goes out our back door and is hooked to a portable antenna on the back of a truck.”
Melvyn smiled.
“So, how do you turn it on?”
“That much I know. The power button is right here.”
He plugged it in, pushed a button, and the unit sprang to life.
“And how much is this model?”
“Right now it’s on sale for three hundred eighty eight dollars.”
“Walmart really loves the number eight, doesn’t it?”
He chuckled.
“Yes sir, they really do.”
“Okay. I’ll have to think about it before I spend that much money. How long will it be on sale?”
“Until the demonstration people pack up and go to another store at the end of the week. But don’t wait too long. They’re flying off the shelf right now. I’ll bet we’ve sold a hundred in just the last couple of days.”
“Thanks for your help.”
“No problem.”
As Melvyn walked away another customer walked up.
Gwen’s job was to distract the young man at the other side of the electronics department.
“Excuse me, young man…”
“Yes ma’am. Can I help you?”
“Yes, please. I want to buy a computer, but they all look alike and I’ve got so many questions.”
The man checked his watch. It was just before midnight.
He was supposed to get off at midnight, but his relief had already called in to say he was going to be late.
Flat tire, he claimed.
It was the third flat tire this month. The excuse was wearing thin.
But the clerk didn’t mind a bit of overtime. It was more money in his pocket. And he’d spend the extra time helping this customer with her computer questions.
That way he could get even with his relief by leaving the rest of the DVD players for him to put up.
He walked with Gwen to the aisle adorned with computers of all types and styles.
It was out of view of the sales counter.
Melvyn looked above his head at the array of security cameras and hoped whoever was watching considered him a harmless and curious customer.
If they suspected he was up to something nefarious there was a good chance they’d send someone running to toss him out of the store.
The clerk never turned off the unit. That saved a couple of seconds.
The setup was similar to the radio Melvyn had at home.
Or, more accurately, the ham he had and the home he had before both of them blew up and burned to a crisp.
He quickly dialed in frequency 106.5 and put on a set of headphones.
In a voice barely above a whisper he said into the microphone, “G.I. Joe, this is Soccer Fan. Are you on tonight?”
There was no hesitation. It was as though Joe were sitting in front of his own unit waiting for his friend to call.
And in fact he was.
“Hello, my friend. You sound hoarse. Are you feeling well?”
“Joe, we’ve got a big problem. Some very bad people are chasing us. I can’t explain right now, but we need a safe place to go. Can you help us out?”
Again, there was no hesitation. Men who go through heavy combat together and survive are tied together for life. They are as close as any brothers, as close as any spouses.
They have each other’s backs.
Joe abandoned his code and spoke plain English.
“Do you remember where I picked you up last time?”
“Yes.”
“Can you get there by thirteen hundred tomorrow?”
“Yes.”
“See you then. And be careful. I don’t have many friends and I don’t want to lose any.”
Chapter 8
The rest of their night was miserable. They were afraid to check into a local motel, as their paranoia was in high gear and they were convinced the feds had all the motels staked out.
Years ago, motels didn’t require identification as long as a guest paid in advance. They didn’t have to present a photo ID and put a credit card number “on file” to pay for any damages they left behind or any cheap towels they took with them.
It was easy
for one to travel around the country incognito in those days.
These days, the Lupsons knew, everything was computerized.
A federal agent could drop by any motel in the country, flash a badge, and ask if a Mr. and Mrs. So-and-So were registered. A few computer clicks and they’d have their answer.
They decided the best time to go across the border into Canada was during rush hour, between eight and nine a.m., when many Detroit residents who worked in Windsor were clogging the eight lanes of the international bridge.
The border was less than an hour’s drive from the Walmart. They had seven hours to kill.
And they were exhausted. They weren’t on their game, since fatigue was making it harder and harder to think logically.
Walmart has security which roams its parking lots at night.
It’s not to hassle people or to stick their noses into anyone’s business. It’s just to head off potential robberies and assaults and to keep shoplifters at bay.
They typically don’t bother people who merely pull into the parking lot to grab a couple of hours’ sleep.
Word has gotten around to weary travelers who either cannot find a vacant hotel room or cannot afford to pay for one.
Walmart, night travelers know, is a safe place to park and rest. No one will hassle them there, the lot is well lit… and they can slip into the Walmart first thing in the morning for a hot cup of coffee and an Egg McMuffin.
It was something which never occurred to the Lupsons, until Joe mentioned it in passing during one of their visits.
Joe Morgan had led a rough life since Vietnam, including a time when he was homeless for several months and living out of his car.
“If you ever need a place to crash and can’t afford a room, pull into a Walmart parking lot. They won’t hassle you or run you off, as long as you’re respectful and behave yourself.”
They’d nodded their heads and filed that little tidbit of information in the back of their minds, never thinking they’d actually use it.
On this particular night they did.
And they got some much needed rest.
At a little past eight they were in bumper to bumper traffic nearing the bridge going into Canada.
The Yellowstone Event (Book 2): A National Disgrace Page 3
