by JEFF MOTES
This is the touchy part.
“Of course I don’t expect you to leave without her. However, I need to verify what you’ve told me before I let her go. How about this? Let’s me and you go into town and see Mrs. Barnes. That way she can tell me it’s okay. When we return, you and Lizzy can leave. We could leave at first light and be back in a couple of hours.”
Will’s no longer relaxed on the couch. He’s sitting with his feet on the floor and his arms on his knees. His hands are open with his fingers spread wide. The ends of his fingers are tapping together, an apparent indication he’s getting nervous or irritated.
“Mr. Wright, I’m not leaving here without Lizzy. That’s not going to happen.”
Careful, Jimmy.
I don’t need this whole thing to blow up. Even though he’s kept it covered with his shirttail, I’ve noticed the pistol on his hip. Something is telling me he probably knows how to use it. My family’s lives depend upon what happens in the next few minutes.
“How about this? Let me and Lynn use your truck to run into town and see Mrs. Barnes. You stay here with the girls until we get back. You’re right; they shouldn’t be left here unprotected. When Lynn and I return, you and Lizzy can leave, provided, of course, Mrs. Barnes says it’s okay. Doing it this way will get you what you came here for and will also allow me to fulfill my responsibilities toward the Barnes family.”
Finally, after a pause, he says, “I don’t like it. I don’t like it at all.” He pauses for a few moments. “Let me think about it. I’ll let you know what I decide at daylight.”
This kid is talking to me like a superior in my own home, and it kind of pisses me off. Before the EMP, I would have told him to get the hell out, but right now, we need this kid.
“All right, Will. Let’s keep this on good terms. I’m going to go lie down. We can talk about it later.”
I give Will the night vision device and leave the room. That was touchy and it may still fall apart, but maybe it won’t. The lives of my family depend upon it.
Chapter 2
Will
A Deadly Encounter
Day 6
I consider the conversation with Mr. Wright. He seems like a nice enough guy, but I’m not going to allow him to prevent Lizzy from leaving with me. Finding her has taken a heavy burden off my shoulders and my heart, and I am not leaving here without her.
Thank You, God, for leading me to Lizzy.
Mr. Wright’s idea of taking my truck to Mrs. Barnes is not good. I can understand his desire to fulfill his obligations to the Barnes, but I don’t know that I’m obligated to comply. In fact, I’m pretty sure I’m not. The truck is too valuable to let anyone use it. I need to talk this over with Lizzy. If I don’t agree to it, there are going to be some hard feelings and tense moments. These are her friends, and Amy is mine too.
The dim light casts many shadows across Lizzy’s body as she sleeps. The khaki shorts and light blue pullover shirt she is wearing fit her well. Not too tight and not too loose. Her blonde hair is pushed to the back. She is very pretty and not just on the outside. It’s something more. It’s natural. You see it in her smile and in her eyes. It comes from inside. Lizzy turns sixteen in only three weeks, exactly three months after I turned seventeen. I so wanted to take her out to eat at Big Mike’s Steakhouse in Thomasville for our first date. That’s not going to happen now. Our freezers at home are full of beef, pork, lamb, and chicken from the butchered stock of our small farm. Maybe when we’re in Repose, I can grill her a steak, though my grilling skills aren’t good yet.
If the EMP had only waited until after our trip to the Gulf. If Dad and Ms. Jill could have only gotten together. Yet would it have really changed anything? Probably not. Dad would still be in Leeds and Ms. Jill in Birmingham. But Dad would be searching for Ms. Jill, though it would be unlikely he could find her without God’s intervention.
I wiggle Lizzy’s foot. She snuggles to herself a little more. She looks content and peaceful. I hesitate, yet I really need to talk with her. Reaching out again, I wiggle her foot more vigorously. This time she sits with a start, looking at me with wide eyes.
“Will! You startled me.”
“I’m sorry, Lizzy. I didn’t mean to.”
She sits up and stretches, pulling her shirt just above her waist, then she straightens and pulls her shirt down. Pretty was not the right word earlier. Lizzy is beautiful.
“Is it 4:00 a.m. already? Seems like I just closed my eyes. Amy and I were taking turns watching. Where is she anyway?”
“She’s upstairs. She woke me up about a half hour ago. I’ve been sitting here thinking.”
“About what?”
“About you, and my conversation with Mr. Wright a few minutes ago.”
“Mr. Wright? Was he in here, too?”
“He was here when I came downstairs. Lizzy, he wants to take my truck and go see your grandmother before he lets you leave with me. I don’t think it’s a good idea. I really don’t need his permission for us to leave, only your willingness.”
“Why does he want to do that?”
“He said you are like a daughter to him, and he wanted to make sure letting you leave with me was okay with your grandmother.”
“What do you think?”
“I think we should leave when it gets daylight. There is no reason for us to stay here.”
Lizzy is silent for a few moments. “Will, would it really be all that bad to let him go see my grandmother? He has been like a father to me. I would hate to leave on bad terms. I think you should let him. Whatever you decide, I trust you, and of course I’ll leave with you whenever you go. You don’t know how much I’ve prayed you would come for me.”
Her words bring a smile to my face that I can’t hide.
“I…I guess I can let him do it, if it means that much to you. Mrs. Lynn is going with him. That means me, you, and Amy will remain here. Hopefully it won’t take them more than a couple of hours to go there and return. We should be able to leave before lunch.”
She takes my hand, giving it a squeeze. A slight shiver runs through me.
“Thanks. Now tell me what you were thinking about me.”
Dad said women will sometimes ask questions men shouldn’t answer. This might be one of them.
“I was thinking how good it is to see you. Would you mind if we prayed together?”
“Of course not, Will.”
She gets off the couch, moves closer to me, and kneels on the floor with her elbows on the cushion. I kneel next to her.
“Dear God, thank You for leading me to Lizzy. Lord, I pray for wisdom and courage as we face this new day. Lord, please be with my father and Ms. Jill. Thank You for baby Jackson. In Jesus’ name, Amen.”
“Father, You are the only real father I have,” Lizzy prays. “Please Lord, bless my mother and the Wrights. Bless our grandparents and neighbors. Please keep Mr. Carter safe. Thank You for sending Will. In Jesus’ name, Amen.”
We stand and embrace each other. I have to push away; I’m trembling. We sit on the couch facing each other. Daylight is starting to lighten the room.
“Lizzy, has it been rough out here?” I ask.
She looks away for a few moments, then turns back. “It hasn’t been good. I had to…had to use those self-defense moves you showed me a couple of weeks ago. They worked, too. Thank you. Tell me about your grandfather.”
“He got shot by a looter coming through Repose the other day. He’s okay. We’ve enacted some security measures to prevent that from happening again. Lizzy, I’ve prepared a place for you, your mother, and your grandmother. You will be safe there.”
Before she can reply, Mrs. Wright enters the room.
“Good morning,” she says, sitting in one of the recliners. “I sure do miss a good cup of coffee.”
“Sorry, I didn’t think to bring any coffee.”
Her eyebrows rise. “You have coffee?”
“Not with me. We have some at home.”
“What all
do you have?” Mrs. Wright asks.
That is a question that shouldn’t be asked and certainly won’t be answered.
“Just a few supplies. My dad liked coffee a lot and bought a little extra to keep in the pantry.”
She looks at me, not saying anything. It’s like she’s trying to figure something out or come to some kind of decision about something.
“Mrs. Wright,” Lizzy says, “I really appreciate everything y’all have done for me. You’ve always been good and kind to me. You and Mr. Wright both.”
Mrs. Wright’s gaze turns toward Lizzy. Her expression is one of pain. Turning away, she says, “Of course, Lizzy. You’re like our own daughter.” She stands. “How about helping me fix something for breakfast?”
“Okay,” Lizzy says.
After they leave, Mr. Wright walks into the room and sits in the same recliner Mrs. Wright was in. “Good morning, Will.”
“Good morning, Mr. Wright. I’ve thought about our conversation. I’ll agree to allow you to use my truck to go see Mrs. Barnes under the condition you go nowhere else with it. Straight there and straight back.”
He looks at me for a few moments, then says, “Okay, Will. We don’t have any reason to go anywhere else. When we return, you and Lizzy can leave, provided, of course, Mrs. Barnes is okay with it. I thought I heard Lynn in here.”
“She was. She and Lizzy have gone to fix some breakfast.”
He raises his eyebrows. “Amy’s not with them?”
“No. I guess she’s still upstairs.”
His expression changes. “She should be helping. Would you mind going up and getting her?”
“Sure.”
I’ve never been in a girl’s bedroom while she slept, and it makes me a little uneasy. Walking through the door, I understand why. The sheet is on the floor, probably kicked off because the room is so warm. Amy is stretched out on the bed, resting peacefully, her night clothes skewed, exposing lots of skin. Too much skin. My eyes linger a little longer on places they shouldn’t be. Amy is my friend and Lizzy my girlfriend. There is no way I’m going near that bed. No way at all. I walk down the stairs and to the great room.
“Is Amy up?” Mr. Wright asks.
A flush of warmth runs across my face. Unable to look at him, I respond, “No, she’s not.”
He smiles. “She’s hard to wake up sometimes. Sometimes you have to goose her ribs. Give it a try; that should get her stirring.”
Does he have any idea how she looks up there? Dad told me how easy it was for men, especially young men, to be controlled and manipulated by the images they see. He’s right. I better be careful.
“Maybe you should do that yourself, Mr. Wright.”
****
After a breakfast of oatmeal, Mr. Wright says, “I guess Lynn and I should head on into town so we can get back before noon. Amy, Lizzy, would you two mind taking care of the kitchen?”
Amy looks surprised. “Town? You’re going to town?”
“Yes, your mother and I are going to see Mrs. Barnes just to make sure it’s okay for us to let Lizzy leave with Will. When we return, they’ll be leaving.”
He looks out the back door and rubs his chin in thought. “You know, I think the pool is still good enough for a swim. Why don’t you three take advantage of it while we’re gone? Today will probably be the last day for it.”
I rise and follow Mr. and Mrs. Wright to the front door. On the porch, I give him the key to my truck.
“Make yourself at home, Will, and watch out after the girls. We’ll be back soon.”
“Remember, nowhere but Mrs. Barnes’,” I remind him.
He smiles slightly. “Of course, there and back. I appreciate your understanding, Will. Lynn and I both do.”
Mrs. Wright smiles in my direction as they descend the stairs and walk to the truck. I hope this isn’t going to be a big mistake. I can hear Dad asking incredulously, “You let them take your truck?” I grimace. My watch says 8:30 a.m. If they go to Mrs. Barnes and come straight back, they should be here no later than 10:00 a.m. Then Lizzy and I will leave, go to her house, pick up her grandmother, and load up as much of their things as we can. We should be in Repose way before dark.
Returning to the great room, I sit in a recliner and lean back. Sleep was short and fitful last night. My eyes close of their own volition. I hear Lizzy and Amy’s voices, yet they grow fainter. I can’t talk. My mind struggles with the images playing, and I push them away.
Dear God. Help me!
Finally, my consciousness succumbs to darkness.
****
Someone is shaking me gently and whispering indiscernible words. The shaking becomes more vigorous, the words louder and more distinct. My eyes open with a start. It’s Lizzy. She has a fearful look in her eyes.
Rising quickly, I ask, “What’s wrong?”
“Hurry, they’re coming!” Amy says from the window.
“Will,” Lizzy says urgently, “there are some men coming down the drive on 4-wheelers. The same men who harassed us. What do we do?”
Moving quickly to the window, I look out. They are driving into the yard now, right up close to the steps. Two 4-wheelers, each with two men.
“Lizzy, get your shotgun and stay back. Be ready in case I need you. Amy, get away from the window. Don’t let them see you.”
I draw my Glock, running my finger along the slide, feeling the ejector and verifying a round is in the chamber. The spare magazine is in my left pants pocket. Re-holstering the Glock, I cover it with my shirttail and bring the bottom end of the spare magazine up to just above the top of my pants pocket.
One of the men calls out, “Jimmy!”
Adrenaline floods my bloodstream, and my body starts to tremble. Practicing the calming techniques Dad taught me, I say a quick prayer: Dear God, for such a time as this, You have placed me here. Grant me courage. I step out onto the porch, a feeling of calm washing over me.
“Who are you?” the man says. “I want to speak to Jimmy.”
The man speaking is driving the 4-wheeler on the left with one man sitting behind him. They are both armed. The 4-wheeler to the right has two younger men. The one driving is the guy who sent me and Jammer to the trap. There is a big grin on his face. They are both armed as well.
“Boy, I’m talking to you!”
The man speaking is an older guy with a beard streaked in brown and gray.
“I’ll be speaking for Mr. Wright,” I say in a calm, steady voice. “What do you want?”
The man spits tobacco juice on the ground. The 4-wheelers aren’t more than twenty feet from the steps.
His eyes narrow. “Boy, get Jimmy out here right now. We’re fixing to do our inspection. Before we do, I want to see if there is anything, or anyone, he wants to offer upfront to avoid the need for an inspection altogether. Go get him and do it now!”
This is not good. Not good at all.
“There will be no inspection here today.” The younger guys are “oohing” and “ah-ing.” The older man’s face turns red.
“Boy, we’re going to whip your ass, whip Jimmy’s cowardly ass, and take what we want. Either send that little blond-headed girl out or we’re coming in and taking what we want, including her.”
I don’t say anything. The old guy is getting mad.
He hollers out, “Jimmy, get out here now!”
After a brief pause, he looks hard at me. “Boy, we’re coming up there, and if you interfere at all, we’re going to leave you bleeding out on the front porch.”
Dad has trained me on how to use my weapon. He’s taught me how to handle myself in different situations, including multiple assailants. His teachings are playing through my mind. It’s actually come to this. I never thought it really would. Lizzy and Amy are inside, counting on my protection. My resolve is stiffened, and I feel my blood running cold.
“Mister, I don’t know who you are. I suggest you turn around and leave. You’ve come to the wrong house.”
He glares hard at m
e and drives his 4-wheeler forward a little, turning it to the side. “Reggie, you and Jerry go up there and whip that boy’s ass. When you’re done, we’ll all go inside and drag Jimmy’s ass out.”
The one behind the older man starts getting off the 4-wheeler. As soon as his foot touches the ground, my decision is made. I must protect Lizzy and Amy. I raise my right hand straight up from my side. My thumb catches my shirttail on its way up, forcing the shirt over and around my Glock. Then lowering slightly, I wrap my palm and fingers around the grip, the exact same move I’ve practiced hundreds of times with my dad. My forefinger rest on the outside of the holster. As the Glock clears the holster, my forefinger comes to rest on the side of the frame right above the takedown bar. I raise my forearm, bringing the pistol into a horizontal position as I push it forward, extending my arm. As the Glock breaks in front of my body and starts to rise to eye level, I mold my left hand around the grip with my right, and my finger slides from the takedown bar onto the trigger. This all happens automatically, in an instant.
As the sights of the Glock align with the man stepping to the ground, I focus on the front sight and squeeze off two rapid shots, hitting him in his chest. Multiple things happen at once. My rapid, sudden move has caught them completely by surprise. The man falls to the ground as I swing around to the other guy; he’s reaching for his pistol. Reacquiring a sight picture, I squeeze off two more rapid shots, though this time, with the way his body is turned and the moving 4-wheelers, I’m not sure I even hit him. The 4-wheelers surge forward, trying to turn. I move, repositioning myself inside the doorframe, and kneel. A bullet hits the house wall close to where my head was prior to taking cover. Fragments of brick fall to the porch floor. Amy is screaming inside. I hear nothing from Lizzy. The other guy, Cole must be his name, has managed to get his 4-wheeler turned around. Raising my Glock, I continue to fire at the fleeing men. A loud pop comes from the 4-wheeler the older guy is driving, and it lists heavily to one side. Must have hit a tire. I continue to fire at the men, not knowing the effect, if any, my shots are having. Soon, they’re around the tree line and out of sight, and I cease firing.
