“Raider, here with me.”
Raider got out, and a low rumble started coming from his chest.
“On your best behavior, I don't want to have to use a leash. I don't want you to bite him unless I tell you to. Got that?”
Raider's head bobbed, and he let out a low bark. I was starting to learn his language. A soft chuffing sound meant yes or agreement, a real low bark like that was a more emphatic yes. He would whine when he was unsure, and he just sat there with his head cocked to the side staring at me if it was a no. That was the most confusing, but I was learning slowly.
I saw the door open behind Jessica before I even got close. Her father was standing there, using the doorjamb to support himself. I could see in one hand he loosely held the shotgun pointing straight down. That worried me. I pulled my shirt up and tucked it in so I could get to my gun easier.
“… I told you I was sorry. It's not gonna happen again,” Lance’s voice was clear now that I was only twenty feet away from the front porch.
“And I told you, I don't got time for lying and cheating son of bitches. Leave, Lance, leave now.”
“Honey, you don't know what you're missing out on. You don't just walk away from me!”
I cleared my throat, making him turn around.
“You!” was his only word.
“Yes, me,” I said softly, and that was when his eyes drifted down and saw that I had the shirt pulled to the side.
I wasn't proud that I'd pulled a gun on him, or even of the time I’d pulled a gun on his cousin, but there were times you couldn’t fix stupid, and Lance was one of those guys who seemed a little more stupid than usual. Maybe even terminally stupid.
“Can't we just talk about this?” Lance asked, turning back to Jessica and taking a step forward, only five feet away from her now.
Jessica's dad opened the door wider, and two dogs ran out to the front porch growling and snarling. I reached down and grabbed Raider by the scruff as he bunched up his muscles, anticipating, but my hand made him ease back a little bit, and he turned to look at me as if to ask me why I was keeping him from playing.
“Stay,” I commanded him and watched as the two dogs slid to a stop on either side of Jessica.
One of them was huge. He had the color pattern and facial features of a Rottweiler, but one that was obviously fed a steroid-rich diet of protein. The dog had to have easily been twice the size of the other one, which happened to be a German Shepherd just like Raider. The combined weight of 300 pounds of canine was sitting there snarling and growling at Lance. He took half a step back but then held his ground.
“So what, you going to sic your dogs on me if I don't leave? And you,” he said, pointing at me, “you come around here to run me off too?”
“I came up here to check on Jessica and to see if we have any more training classes with the power out. Imagine my surprise when I saw you here. I thought you got dumped a few days ago for fooling around with one of the waitresses? Was it that hot little number in the short shorts that you were getting handsy with?”
“You son of a—”
I let Raider go, and he ran half the distance and slid to a stop, snarling and barking at Lance.
I had to wonder, was Lance armed? It would seem with all the other shady shit that he was doing that he'd have a gun or a pistol somewhere. That's why I was thankful that Raider stopped where he did. If Lance made a move, I'd have a chance to call them off and hopefully get him out of the line of fire. Funny enough, I realized I hadn't even thought about not being a target.
“My daughter's told you, now I'm telling you. Leave. Get off my land,” Jessica's dad said from the doorway, taking a step out to stand next to her.
“Raider, come,” I commanded, and watched as Raider turned to look back at me and then again at Lance before backing up and coming to rest next to me, sitting down.
“I… I really want to…” Lance stuttered.
“Just give it up, man,” I said simply. “You're not wanted around here.”
“I'm not talking to you, shithead,” he snarled quietly, making the middle fur on my dog’s back stand up straight.
“So mature,” I muttered to myself. “Hey Jessica, can Raider and I come up and talk a second?”
“Yeah, sure,” she told me, mumbling a command to her two dogs who turned and ran back into the house.
I thought that was all, but the big one stuck his head out around the doorjamb by her father's legs. He reached down and pet the dog on the head absentmindedly, cradling the shotgun with the other hand. Lance turned and started walking my way, mumbling under his breath. He'd only been a few feet away from Jessica, but I'd been worried that things were going to get physical. The fact the guy hadn't run from 300 pounds of dogs that had come charging out told me that he was either really self-confident, or really, really stupid. I hoped it was the stupid or foolish part, because someone with that much confidence could be scary.
Not that I wasn't saying Jessica was scary, hell, she'd been in the military. She probably knew more about kicking ass than I did; she was the military's version of police. She’d told me about tossing drunks in jail, breaking up fistfights, and doing random searches for drugs or other contraband. I had no doubt she could hold her own, but maybe Lance saw that. Faced with the fact that her dad was out there, I was out there, the dogs were out there, and she's badass, he probably figured that he might be in a tight spot if he got any louder.
“This ain't over,” Lance called to me.
Raider growled as Lance got into his truck and slammed the door. Only then did Raider turn off the aggressive growl. I patted him on the head, impressed the young guy would be so feisty and protective.
“Come on, boy,” I told him and walked up toward the steps to the front porch. He wagged his tail and let out a happy bark as Lance’s truck fired up behind us and started crunching backward down the gravel driveway, to make a turn before heading down the hill.
“Did you really come here to ask about dog training?” Jessica asked me.
“No, ma'am, I came up here to check on you and your dad. See if you'd heard any news?”
“We've heard nothing,” Jessica's dad said, and walked forward and leaned the shotgun up against the front railing.
“I met the new deputy in town, name’s Dave Ralston. He said he's gonna try to get in touch with the state police, but I also talked with the pharmacist who is on the emergency committee for the city. He said the mayor would have to contact FEMA if the power stayed out for a while. They are able to get a hold of the governor that way.”
“You really think it's gonna come to that?” Jessica asked me.
“The transformer outside of our house at the homestead blew up. Started a small fire. Before it did that though, the electrical and telephone wires started sagging and melting. I think whatever was giving us the northern lights down here in Arkansas fried out part of the electrical grid. It was the rolling blackouts, like what happened at the hospital the day your dad and my grandpa had their surgeries.”
“Yeah, I saw and heard about that happening often on all over town,” Jessica's dad said.
“Has anyone seen the line workers?” I asked them.
“I saw a couple of the work trucks the other day,” Jessica pointed toward the main road out of town, “but I haven't seen him since then.”
“Okay, now I just came into town to get some news and fill up the gas tank in my truck. Just thankful whatever it was didn't kill everything. Are you guys all set for everything?” I asked them.
“We might've been in worse shape if we didn't have a creek running through the back of the property,” Jessica's dad said. “Other than that, we're good to go. Ate up most of the food in the fridge already and cooked up what we had left in the freezer.”
“Y’all have a generator?” I asked him, noticing that his color seemed pretty good but his breathing was slightly labored.
“No,” Jessica answered for her dad, “but you know how it is out here, we do
what we gotta do.”
I thought of the pitcher pump we had back at the homestead, the chickens in the garden. We'd done what we had to do for a lot of years. More so than I felt comfortable with. I didn't feel like I’d been robbed of my childhood though, not many kids had the opportunity to really live the lifestyle I did.
“Well, sir, Miss Jessica, if you guys need anything, y'all know where I'm at,” I said, giving them a slight wave.
“Thank you for checking in, Wes,” Jessica said and give me a wave back. “But I have to ask…” I waited, and she pointed to my hip.
I slapped my hand across my forehead. “Sorry,” I told her, “I had my own run-in with Lance earlier at the gas station. He tried to get pushy like he did back in high school.”
“I’m guessing he didn’t get whatever it was he wanted from you?” she asked, her lips pulling up into a smile.
“No, I told him to leave me alone. Kind of came up to me when I was about to drive away, so he was a little surprised to find a gun in his belly.”
“Lord, he probably does think you came up here following him.” Jessica pushed some flyaway hair out of her eyes.
“I honestly had no clue he was up here,” I admitted, my hands working on petting Raider’s head. “He’s trouble, Jessica,” I said softly.
“Don't let that Lance try to scare you off,” Jessica's father said. “I told her he was a snake. She didn't listen though, wanted to go date a guy who has lots of pretty women working for ‘em. On top of that, I went up there one day, and they're selling some good old fashion hooch!”
I was about to say something, but that last bit had me chuckling instead.
If they only knew.
“I won't let Lance and his boys scare me off, he and I have a history anyway. I don't think he'd like me when I get mad,” I told them both, smiling.
“Going to Hulk out on him?” Jessica asked teasingly.
“Naw,” I said, pulling my shirt out and covering the gun up, “I might not be as tough as you, Miss Jessica, but I got Raider here to back me up.”
Her eyes squinted as a smile lit her face, and for a second there I felt something in my stomach flutter.
“Come on, Raider, let's get back home,” I said, before something foolish could come out of my mouth.
15
I took the direct route toward the homestead. Raider seemed as happy and as excited as I was, and I was pleased. I’d dated women in college, but none of them had ever made my heart flutter the way Jessica did. There was just something kind and natural about her that I was really interested in. Thinking about whether or not I should have tried to sneak a kiss in, but I knew the timing was bad, especially after her just breaking up with Lance. I usually read that kind of situation wrong anyway, so I didn’t have a lot of faith that I would've been right. I guess fear is what kept a lot of guys from asking girls out, or letting them know how they really felt. They were avoiding the feeling of rejection. I knew all about that, and growing up poor it was kinda something that I felt had been hung around my neck for my entire life.
Still, I remembered her smile and the way her eyes lit up, even though they squinted. I thought that as a large red pickup truck pulled out on the road behind me. I had half a second to look up when its engine started roaring, and it pulled up next to me. I eased off the gas and the red truck also did, and I looked to the side to see who the crazy bastard was that was acting like they wanted to play chicken with oncoming traffic. Sitting in the driver seat was the man that Raider had bitten, and two other men were in the truck too. They were the people I'd seen at the back door of the Barred Rooster the last time I'd made a delivery there. Ryan and Larry?
“Raider, get on the seat and get down,” I said to him, and put my right hand out to catch him as I slammed on the brakes.
The red truck shot ahead of me a good distance, but I saw the brake lights come on almost immediately. The bed of the pickup truck started swerving as the driver tried to power glide into a turn. I could smell the burned rubber, and each piston firing seemed to slow down in my ears. I checked the rearview mirror as the red truck finished its turn, and it was now facing me in my lane. Another truck went past the other way, a white one, and I realized that Lance hadn't gone too far from Jessica's after all. That truck did a much less graceful turn and ended up behind me.
Both the red truck and the white truck started toward me at almost the same accelerating rate of speed. If their fancy driving was meant to scare me, it sort of worked. Not completely, but sort of.
“Raider, hold on, buddy,” I said, letting go of him and stomping on the gas.
I was close enough to the red truck to see the driver's eyes grow wide. I was counting on him to lose his cool, but I wasn't going to let him hit me head on. I saw the white truck was almost behind me, its front bumper kissing the rear end of my truck, and it was at that moment that I jerked my truck to the right shoulder, losing control a little bit as my driver’s side tires hit the loose gravel. The red truck swerved to my left just like I'd hoped he would.
The problem occurred when Lance’s bumper glanced off the back of mine as he tried to spin me out to the right by pushing on my bumper on the left side. The sudden movement put him angling to the left, and his truck hit the side of the red truck before both came to a stop. I saw in the rearview as the two hit, but I was already driving through my own skid and onto the pavement again. I floored it, and then felt a warm nose and a rough tongue licking the side of my face.
“It's okay, Raider,” I told him, “we've lost him for now.”
Raider sat back down on the seat again, not sure if I was gonna be doing any more stunt driving. He seemed to understand, and even though he was still a puppy, he seemed far more mature than any dog I’d ever been around.
I pulled into the driveway of the homestead blaring my horn. I came on hard and fast. A long time ago, as a kid, Grandpa had told me if he ever came in the driveway like that, grab my gear and head for the woods and hide. I guess things were different now than they were when I was little. Moonshining wasn't as dangerous, and there weren't as many people who’d really come after you. The stigma wasn't the same as it had been a long time ago, when you had to worry about rivals as well as the law.
Both Grandpa and Grandma popped out of the front door as I came to a halt, a cloud of dust finally catching up to me as I turned off the engine and opened the side door.
“Raider, come on,” I said and waited as the dog jumped out before closing the door.
“What's going on?” Grandpa asked, holding a hand over his abdomen, his other holding the shotgun that usually hung over the door.
“Lance and his boys tried to run me off the road!” I said, heading to the front door. “They had one come at me from the front with his truck, and one behind me pushing,” I told him. “I need you guys to get safe in case they come here next.”
“What you doing?” Grandpa asked me.
“I'm getting get my—”
“I got your shotgun,” Grandma said, holding my Mossberg up.
“Actually, Grandma, I'm going with a rifle. You hold onto that until this all blows over,” I told her sternly. She nodded and held it to her chest firmly.
She was probably better with it than Grandpa, so I was glad she didn’t argue.
“We ain't going to go in the damn bushes, boy,” Grandpa said gruffly and then worked the slide open halfway to make sure the pump action shotgun he held was still loaded.
It was; it hadn't been touched since I’d run Marshall out of the barn. I didn't slow down, I just turned sideways to get around Grandma as I went in the door. I hurried back to my bedroom and reached under my bed and pulled out a hard covered case. I set it up on the bed and pulled out a box of shells that sat on top of my dresser. I didn't like shooting this gun much; it was loud, and it had a decent amount of recoil. More so than the 12-gauge, but I could hit quarters at 100 yards with it. The few times I’d had to go hunting outside of deer season I had used my .25/270. Wh
at I had here though, was an old Stevens .30/06.
I didn't have much time, so I grabbed the box of shells and the gun, and I went to the front of the house. Grandpa had sat down on one of the rocking chairs, his shotgun laid across his lap, almost out of sight. Grandma was sitting in her spot, and Raider sat between them.
“Raider, you stay here with Grandma and Grandpa.” Raider looked at me as he turned his head sideways, and then he barked once.
“What you think this flea-bitten mutt gonna do that I can't?” Grandpa asked indignantly.
“I think he can smell and hear a lot further than you, he'll let you know if any of these guys get past me. They might just be coming to rough me up, but I don't know. They tapped the back of my bumper, but I wasn't going to play chicken and get squashed between the two of them. I jogged to the right as they went to the left, and the two trucks hit. I'm gonna go up the road and make sure none of them are coming this way.”
“What you going to do if they are?” Grandma asked.
“I’ll put a hole in the radiator. Not sure if this thing is heavy enough to punch out their engine block, but if I take out the radiator or even a tire, I can slow him down.”
“That's getting awful fast and loose with the law,” Grandpa told me, shaking his finger. “You might want to rethink that, you never know.”
“I know there's at least four of them,” I told Grandpa.
He huffed at that and looked kind of pissed.
“What do you want me to do?” I asked him. “I can't get into it much, but he's really pissed that I ain't running shine for him no more, and he keeps pushing.”
“You told us how it was the other day,” Grandma said. “You go do what you gotta do. Just remember, when the lights come back on, or if the law shows up, we’ll have to answer for anything we had to do.”
Blackout: Still Surviving Page 12
