Gathering Home

by JEFF MOTES

  At the top of each hour, I stand and walk in place, trying to keep my legs from cramping or going to sleep. I need to be ready to move at a moment’s notice. I thought about breaking out during the night while Mr. Wright is asleep, but those plans fell through after I learned Mr. Wright was going to lock Amy and Lizzy in Amy’s room during the night. I needed Amy to tell me Mr. Wright’s whereabouts and also to unlock the padlock. I could cut a hole through the sheetrock, but if he comes in while I’m doing it, things will get worse. I’m going to have to wait.

  I haven’t heard a sound from Mrs. Lynn since Lizzy was forced into the pantry with me. Mr. Wright must have locked her up somewhere, too. I don’t understand the man. I know he wasn’t prepared for these apocalyptic times, but he hasn’t done anything to better his situation. He’s only made it worse. He seems to be relying on chance and luck to keep him and his family alive. He even declined the offer from Pastor Ezell to move into their protected community. The times are different now, and Mr. Wright is failing miserably, causing his family misery. Old prejudices are going to have to disappear and a new mindset established. A man has got to adapt to the changing circumstances around him. Those who don’t, or do so too slowly, are going to suffer bitterly.

  Mr. Wright and my father are both engineers. Mr. Wright is a chemical engineer and my father an electrical engineer. Both are intelligent and successful people. One chose to consider what he might do if ordinary all of a sudden wasn’t ordinary anymore; the other living life to its fullest, never considering how fragile our civilization really is. Dad talked about those kinds of people. He called them sheeple; people who live in the green pasture of the present, never considering what might happen if the grass all died. Dad did a lot of things to help make things easier when tough times came. I’m thankful he did. Folks don’t have to do everything like my dad did. They could have just done a few things. In one of our discussions, he talked about the minimum steps folks should take to be better prepared, and they weren’t difficult or expensive. Anybody could have done them. It’s evident to me few people did.

  I made a snide remark about sheeple being stupid once, and Dad rebuked me.

  “Son,” he said, “sheeple is a term used about the mental conditioning in which many have been indoctrinated. Most of these people are good, intelligent, successful, and caring individuals, but our society has taught them to be complacent and dependent on others, unconcerned about an unforeseen future. We shouldn’t ridicule them. We should try to open their eyes while there is still time to do so.”

  That was one of the things about Dad. He could be tough as nails, resolute in what he was doing, yet have compassion for those whose circumstances were less fortunate, even if those circumstances were of their own making.

  “Will,” he would often say, “unto whom much is given, much is required. In all of your life, strive to do the best you can with the best you have to live and help those around you live. You owe that to yourself, your family, your friends, and more importantly, to God.”

  Oh, how I wish I could see my father. I need his counsel!

  Dear God, protect my father. Give him courage and wisdom and strength to overcome the obstacles in his path. In Jesus’s name, Amen.

  It’s 1:00 a.m. I should try to get some rest so I can be fresh and rested for when the guys from Repose make it here. I lean against the wall, stretch out as best I can, and close my eyes.

  It seems as though my eyes have only been closed for a few moments when the first gunshot rings out.

  Chapter 47

  Jimmy

  Want to Change Your Mind?

  Day 12

  I’ve been trying to call the sheriff’s office all evening and on into the night. They should have been here hours ago. Did they change their minds about a reward? If so, it’s not going to go well for me. I’ve got to get this kid away from here before his friends from Repose show up. If Will and Lizzy are gone, I’ll blame the sheriff’s office for taking them. But if they’re still here, locked up when the folks from Repose show up…I shudder.

  If Amy can remember how to get to the Hiltons’, we can go out there and search their house and property for food and other supplies. There must be a lot, since they’ve been looting and pillaging the area. Perhaps I can find a trailer for the 4-wheeler when I get there, making it easier to haul the stuff back here.

  The NVD I took from Will’s pack works really nice. I’m keeping all his gear after the deputies pick him up. I probably can’t keep the truck. I’m sure the deputies will take it. Plus, it staying out here will only draw unwanted attention from Pastor Ezell and the folks from Repose.

  I get up from the chair on the front porch and stretch. I’m exhausted. I haven’t slept in more than twenty-four hours. If only Lynn and Amy had come to their senses and understood that I’m only doing what is best for our family. But no, they had to become hysterical. Lynn even threatened to go get Pastor Ezell. I had to lock her up in the room where Will had been sleeping. Amy refused to help, too. I know they’ve become attached to Will over the past few days and longer for Lizzy. Amy probably has a hero worship mentality toward Will right now. Heck, I even like both of the kids. It’s not my fault they committed murder and are wanted by the sheriff. We’re probably lucky Will didn’t slit our throats during the night.

  I go out into the yard, then around to the back using the NVD to scan. That’s when I spot them. My heart quickens, and my mouth becomes dry as I drop to a knee, hoping they didn’t see me. I ease forward, trying to not make a sound. There’re three of them rooting around just this side of the tree line. I lean against a tree and raise the sawed-off shotgun to my shoulder. I push the safety off with my trigger finger. Trying to hold my flashlight and the shotgun, I push the button on the tail cap. The light is bright, and I see the pigs clearly. It’s difficult to hold the light and the shotgun securely at the same time. The pigs raise their heads inquiringly. The light is bobbling around when I pull the trigger. Dirt kicks up off the ground near one of the hogs. I operate the action and take another shot, then I lose grip on the flashlight, and it falls to the ground. I take another shot just in case luck is on my side. Picking up my flashlight, I scan around. No pigs. I don’t think I hit any of them.

  I’m too tired to think clearly and move around well. I’ve got to get some sleep. I go inside, and I head for my bedroom, get all the pillows, then go to the kitchen. I don’t hear a sound coming from the pantry. I shine my light all around. Nothing seems amiss. The padlock is still in place. There are no obvious signs of anybody trying to open the door. I tap on the door.

  “Is that you, Ryan?” Will’s muffled voice asks.

  I want to laugh. I take one of the kitchen table chairs and prop it under the doorknob of the closet.

  “You know, Will, none of this would have happened if you had only agreed to let us go to Repose with you. Amy wouldn’t have been assaulted, and you wouldn’t be locked in this closet. Later this morning, you are going to jail all because you couldn’t see Amy was a better choice for you than Lizzy. You screwed up big time.”

  He doesn’t respond at all.

  “Want to change your mind about Amy now?”

  “Mr. Wright, I’ve been patient with you the whole time I’ve been here, trying to help you cope with the hardships we’re facing. But if you don’t release me and Lizzy right now, you’re going to die, and there won’t be a darn thing you can do about it.”

  This kid is threating me even now?

  “Will, I’m right outside this door. Do anything stupid and I blast you through the door and walls.”

  I arrange the pillows near one of the bottom cabinets and prop myself up. Weariness is overwhelming me. Soon darkness overtakes my consciousness.

  Chapter 48

  Lizzy

  I’ll Try

  Day 12

  I’ve been awake since daylight wondering what this day might bring.

  Oh, Will, sweet Will. Why did I ask you to stay here? If I hadn’t, you wouldn
’t be locked in a closet, and my grandmother and we would be safe at your home.

  Why did I do it? He only stayed because I asked him to. Now what is going to become of us? I berate myself, thinking how things would be different if I had not convinced him to stay.

  Amy’s light snores drift into the bathroom. Amy is my best friend. If Will had not stayed, she would be dead. Yet what will it cost Will? What will it cost me? I can only have faith that for such a time as this we were placed here.

  God, I don’t understand why all this is happening! Why? Why are bad things happening to good people? I don’t understand, yet my faith remains in You.

  I shudder, remembering the encounters from the other day, shooting Mr. Hilton in the face, and the anguished and scared looks on Keisha’s and Amy’s faces. It was more than I could bear. I wanted to cry. I want to cry now, but I can’t. I have to push those thoughts away. I have to stay strong for Will. Yet a tear runs down my cheek as I see him lying on the ground, his face bloody.

  Dear God, thank You for protecting us! Please show us what we must do! In Jesus’ name, Amen.

  Despite all the pillows Amy brought me, every joint in my body is sore from the awkward way I had to lay on the floor. The chain has made my ankle sore. Poor Will is stuffed in that cramped closet. He’s got to be hurting worse.

  Mr. Wright, why have you turned into a monster?

  I consider how I might escape. First, I would have to get unchained from the toilet. I could bust the thing into pieces then the chain would be free, but that would make a lot of noise, and Mr. Wright would hear for sure. Then I’d have to knock the hinges out of Amy’s door and the pantry door before I could get to Will. I helped my mom do it before when we repainted several of our rooms back home. We used a hammer and a screwdriver, neither of which I have. Will has a key, but I can’t get to it.

  Perhaps I should free myself then run to Pastor Ezell for help. But what if Mr. Wright isn’t lying and somebody from the sheriff’s office shows up and takes Will while I’m gone? Then what?

  Dear God, help us!

  There is still some water left in the bathroom from when Will filtered it for us the other day. With the chain secured around the toilet tank, I can’t reach it. I sit there waiting, hunger and thirst growing inside.

  Amy walks into the bathroom. She’s not in her nightclothes. Before I can ask, she pours me a glass of water and brings it to me.

  “Here,” she says. “You want me to fill the toilet tank too?”

  “No, I’m good for now.” I take the water from her and drink it down.

  “Lizzy, I still don’t understand what has gotten into Dad. I’m sorry. I just don’t understand.”

  “I don’t either, Amy. We’ve got to get out of here or something bad is going to happen.”

  “I don’t know what to do.”

  “Get back in his good graces and get him to leave the door open and let you move about freely. If you can do that, maybe we’ll think of something else.”

  “Okay, I’ll try.”

  Amy leaves the room and starts pounding on the door. “Dad!” She keeps pounding and calling out for what feels like forever. “Dad, we’re hungry. It must be lunch time. Why did you leave us in here so long?”

  Mr. Wright’s voice calls up faintly, “I’m sorry, Amy. I fell asleep.” I hear the padlock being unlocked and the door opening.

  “Dad, please don’t lock me up in here anymore. Please.”

  “Whoa, yesterday you said you were ashamed to be my daughter, and here you are hugging me?”

  “I’m sorry, Dad. I was upset. I know you are, too. All this business with the sheriff and Will and Lizzy being wanted for murder has got to be a mistake. I’m sure when they get here, it’ll all get cleared up. I overreacted. I’m sorry.”

  “Well, I’m glad to hear you say that, sweetheart. I’m sure it’s a mistake, too. If they don’t get it cleared up when the deputies get here, I’m sure they will shortly after getting to the sheriff’s office in Grove Hill.”

  “Dad, do you think you could let us out of this room? I’m tired of being cramped up.”

  “Of course, sweetheart, if you promise to behave and not try to help Will and Lizzy escape.”

  “I won’t. I understand what you’re doing now. How about Lizzy? Do you think you could unchain her?”

  “Oh no. That girl’s dangerous. I’ve seen what she can do.”

  “What about giving me the key to her lock and I can let her walk around some then lock her back up?”

  “No, Amy. I’ve locked her by the toilet so she can go when she needs to. You can bring her the food and water she needs, but I’m not going to unlock her. Don’t ask again.”

  “Okay,” Amy says with disappointment.

  Mr. Wright goes down the stairs, and Amy comes into the bathroom. “You heard what was said?”

  “Yeah, I did.”

  “I’m sorry, Lizzy. I tried.”

  “It’s okay, Amy. You did good. We’ll think of something else. How about go get us some food and see if your dad will let you get Will something, too?”

  “Okay. I’ll be right back.”

  As her steps retreat into the stairwell, I start trying to conceive plans to escape.

  Chapter 49

  Will

  Wait

  Day 12

  Someone knocks on the pantry door.

  “Will?” Mr. Wright says. “You awake?”

  “Yeah.”

  No yes sir this morning. I have no more respect for the man.

  “I’m going to let you out to use the bathroom.”

  I remain silent, my anger seething.

  “Well, if you don’t have to go, I’ll just leave you locked in.”

  “Wait, I do have to go.”

  “That’s better. No sense being rude, Will. This isn’t personal. The sheriff has probably made a mistake and will get everything cleared up once you get to the office.”

  He unlocks the padlock and flips the latch.

  “All right, Will, come out slowly.”

  I crack open the door, trying to let my eyes adjust to the brighter kitchen light. “Where is Lizzy?”

  Amy pops into the kitchen. “Lizzy is fine, Will. She’s up in my room. I’m sorry for all that has happened. Dad is only doing what he thinks is right.”

  Her tone catches me by surprise. I guess she doesn’t remember what I did for her.

  “Amy,” Mr. Wright says, “move into the living room until Will and I make it down the hall. Then get a pack of the jerky, a couple of those cans of fruit, and some water. Place them in the closet for Will. He’ll be eating in there.”

  “Okay, Dad.”

  “What was all the shooting about last night or early this morning, Mr. Wright?” I ask.

  “I took a few shots at some pigs. They were running, and I missed. Don’t worry, though. With the shotgun at this close range, I can’t miss.”

  He has my Glock tucked in his waistband. The grip of another black pistol protrudes from one of his pants pockets. The sawed-off Remington pump shotgun is in his hands. On our way back, I pause at the stairs and call up, “Lizzy, are you okay?”

  “Yes, I’m fine, Will. Are you okay?”

  “I’m okay. Don’t worry, Lizzy.”

  The shotgun prods me in the back, and I continue to the kitchen and the pantry. There are four plastic bottles of water, one pack of jerky, and two cans of diced peaches sitting on one of the shelves. I step in, the door is quickly closed, and the padlock is relocked.

  The guys from Repose didn’t come last night. What can that mean? They should have come out here. Maybe they’re having more trouble than Charlie let on the other day when Mike wanted me to stay here a little longer. This concerns me. I should have been home days ago, then I could have helped them. What could have happened that was so bad they didn’t come out here? I’m worried.

  If they aren’t coming, I’m going to have to figure something out myself. I’m going to have to take Mr. Wright
down. The next time he lets me out and he gets the shotgun close enough, I’m going to make my move. For now, I have little choice but to wait.

  Chapter 50

  Jimmy

  You’ll Understand Later

  Day 12

  I remove the padlock from Lynn’s hobby room and step in. Lynn is still lying on the bed in the hot and stuffy space. I feel bad about it, but she didn’t give me much choice, saying she was going to Pastor Ezell to tell him what I was doing. I had to lock her in here and nail the window shut.

  “Lynn, I’m sorry, baby. Come on out.”

  She gets up quickly and storms past me without saying a word, goes into our bedroom, and slams the door.

  I go outside and hook up the wire antenna to Will’s radio. Heck, why am I calling it Will’s radio? It’s mine now. I tune to the CCSO channel and push the PTT button.

  “This is Jimmy Wright calling the sheriff’s office, over.”

  A weak crackle comes through the speaker. “This is Chief Deputy Clyde Smith. Your signal is weak, and you’re breaking up. Repeat your transmission.”

  “This is Jimmy Wright. Why didn’t your guys come out here yesterday?”

  “I’m glad you called, Mr. Wright. We tried calling you multiple times yesterday but weren’t able to get a response. We’ve been delayed for logistical reasons. There is a large vigilante group blocking the highway on Allen Walker Road. We’re rounding up a bigger posse and will be out there tomorrow morning.”

  “Tomorrow morning? I need these kids gone today! They’re eating me out of house and home. If you don’t come today, I’m going to turn them loose.”

  This idiot is going to cause me a lot of trouble if the folks from Repose come here and find those kids chained up. Maybe I should just turn them loose then ride over to the Hiltons’ and start bringing some of their stuff over here.