“Are they on the roof of the office?” Rebecca asked, concern for her son showing through.
“No,” Sam answered, “after what we learned, that’s way too risky of a position to be in, so they’re across the road behind a mound of dirt in the RV parking area.”
“OK,” she breathed with a sigh of relief.
Andy stood and looked around the room. Everybody was here except for Choon Lee and Scott, who had volunteered for first watch. Also still missing were Eric and Michelle. Their continual absence brought pangs of concern to Andy every time he thought about them, which was frequently. He cleared his throat and walked over to the kettle of tea warming at the edge of the stove. The spiral bound, metal handle dissipated the heat, and he picked it up with an ungloved hand. A moment later his mug was topped off, and he turned to face Rebecca.
“In a nutshell, we’re going to get a visit from the ‘acquisition’ team at shelter Yellow. Most likely early tomorrow morning. The sniper—Jimmy Sterling is the name on his driver’s license, although he apparently goes by the name of Little Jimmy for obvious reasons—is supposed to take out our roof guards if we showed any signs of resistance. He also has orders to fire on specific targets of opportunity as they present themselves, namely Eric, Sam, and Walter.”
“But why? We haven’t done anything except provide food, shelter, and medical care to the people that came here from the campground. How could they even think about attacking us?”
Amy shook her head and chimed in. “Actually, it’s not everybody at the shelter. The guy we met the other day, Ray Ingram, has apparently been putting together his own faction. Either by threats, or maybe bribes—we’re not entirely sure, and it really doesn’t make any difference at this point—he’s now the head honcho at shelter Yellow. According to the sniper, our favorite little tattletale has been filling Ray’s head with stories about warehouses full of food, fuel, and guns.”
“Diane?” Rebecca asked incredulously.
Andy lifted his cup and took a sip as he replied. “Yep, and not only her, but most of the troublemakers and ringleaders that supported her . . . they’re all part of Ray’s little club now.”
“Are you seriously telling me,” Rebecca’s exasperated countenance blushed in anger, “that with everything else going wrong in the world, we’re going to have to deal with an attack from this egomaniacal paramedic and his band of merry men?”
“That’s the info we got from Little Jimmy. Ray is going to be sending his team with an offer to combine all of our personnel and supplies with theirs at shelter Yellow. If we refuse, well then, the ‘offer’ becomes mandatory. Oh, and by the way, Ray gave the sniper specific instructions to not shoot at the tall, dark haired lady.” Andy turned to face Callie.
“If Ray even looks at me wrong, I’ll pull his sack so hard that his eyebrows will blink over his nipples,” Callie spat.
“Well there’s a visual that I didn’t need,” Thompson chuckled.
“Anyhow,” Andy continued, “we don’t have a long time to decide on a response and get our assets into position.”
Preacher Dave waved a hand and drew everybody’s attention. “You know me and what I stand for. If we can somehow solve this without bloodshed, well then that’s the path I think we should take . . .”
“Yeah but . . .” Sam began to interrupt, but Dave stood and cut him off.
“Hold on a minute Sam . . . let me finish. The bible is very clear about loving your enemies and turning the other cheek, but it also speaks in Ecclesiastes 3:8 that there is ‘a time to love, and a time to hate; a time for war, and a time for peace.’ Now I’m not suggesting that we just lay down our guns and hand over the keys to the kingdom to Ray, but just remember that the same verse that tells us that there is a time for war, also tells us that there is a time for peace.”
“English preacher . . . speak in English,” Bucky said.
Dave searched the faces of the small assembly. “What I’m saying is that a lot of people can get caught up in the frenzy of the moment. If they find a leader who is charismatic enough, many people will follow blindly down whatever dark path is set before them, oftentimes without even seeing the path to destruction they’re on, and it’s our job as Christians to show them a way back toward the path of salvation. As far as it’s in our power, we need,” he looked around the room again, “to make sure that everybody who comes against us understands that our first choice is not to battle.”
“And what if they don’t give us any other option?” Crowbar Mike asked.
“Well then, Judges chapter 15, verse 16 reminds us that Samson ‘killed a thousand men with the jaw bone of an ass.’”
“That’s great,” Andy began to laugh, “but do you think Walter will let us borrow his jaw bone?”
The first person to burst out with laughter was Bernice, and the small crowd quickly degenerated into a teasing mirth that lasted for several minutes. When they finally settled, Dave raised his hand again and spoke. “I think it’s great that even with the way things are in the world, we can still share a moment of joy, even at the expense of some good natured ribbing among friends like Walter and Andy.” He directed his gaze straight towards Bucky. “Now you know, they say it’s almost impossible to get a preacher to speak plain English, but here it is. We need to do our best to settle this situation peacefully, but if we’re not given that opportunity, or if violence is being forced against us or those in our charge, then we need to fight with every bit of courage and strength the Lord has given us.”
“Amen to that,” Walter said.
“I’ve got a question.” It was Emily—her shoulder was still wrapped in bandages, but she was now able to sit upright on the couch.
“Go ahead young lady,” Andy said.
“Well, I wasn’t at the meeting down at the store when the people from Richland showed up, but I’ve heard about it from several of the folks that were there, and I’m just wondering about something.”
Another wave of silence eased across the room as they waited for her to finish. Emily glanced to the left and then swiveled her head over every occupied chair, couch cushion and rocker in the room. “If I heard right, doesn’t Ray have some kind of armored car, and if he brings that, do we have something that can stop it?”
Walter and Andy exchange smiles, and then Sam fielded the question. “Emily, let’s just say with some helpful information from our chubby friend Little Jimmy, that shouldn’t be a problem.”
“Besides,” Andy added, “there’s nothing more satisfying than sending a bully running home to mom with his tail between his legs.”
“Is that going to be possible? What if they bring twenty-five guys with guns?” Doc Collins asked.
“That shouldn’t be a problem either,” Walter added, “because we’re about to bait our trap with 400 pounds of Little Jimmy cheese.
Chapter 81
“Fireball calling lightning bolt . . . fireball calling lightning bolt . . . do you copy?” The radio sitting on the table shook with life as the hail came across.
“OK Jimmy,” Andy’s steady monotone sounded next to the big man’s ear, “it’s time for you to shine. I’m going to put the radio in your hand, and then you’re going to impress me. Do you remember everything we talked about?”
“Yes sir, I do.”
“And you realize that your performance has the potential to save a lot of lives, most importantly yours?”
“Yes sir, I understand.”
“Alright then, as they say down in Texas, it’s time to earn your supper.” The call from the radio repeated, and Andy lifted the device to the big man’s thick fingered hand. His eyes were still covered with the heavy canvas bag, but it had been rolled up enough so that his voice wouldn’t be muffled.
“Ray? . . . Ray, is that you?”
“10-4, we’re holding at the staging point, ready to roll through at first light. What’s your status? Do you still have eyes on the targets?”
“Negative . . ., I mean yes, but not
right now. There’s nobody out.”
A brief pause of silence came through, and then Ray transmitted again. “Confirm—you’re in the eagle’s nest, but there are no targets visible. Is that correct?”
“You’re doing fine, Jimmy . . . just tell him what we went over,” Andy took two steps away from the big man seated at the picnic table.
“Negative, I am not in the original eagles nest. That location became compromised the first night. There’s still creeps coming out of the campground every now and then, and some of them were getting too close to me, so I moved to an alternate spot.”
“What’s your location now?” Ray’s voice had a hint of impatience attached.
“I’m on the far side of the marina, about 250 yards down the highway to the west. There’s a little hummock covered by some brambles, and I’m right in the thick of it.”
“How’s your view from there?”
“Better than from my original hide. Plus, any creeps that come from the campground normally get dealt with by the old guy or his crew.”
“Understood, and good job. Give me a few minutes to round up my squad leaders, and then you can give us a complete rundown.”
“Yeah, I will . . . Did you remember our arrangement?”
“You know I wouldn’t forget, Jimmy.”
“Where are they?” The blindfolded fat man talked at the radio with a performance destined for used car sales.
“There’s a brown bag in the main cab of the fire truck. It’s got your name on the outside, and on the inside are two ham sandwiches, extra thick, with cheese and double mustard. But you’ve got to wait until we take care of our business.”
“I know . . . I know.”
Andy nodded silently to himself as he paced around the picnic table. One of the subjects that had come up during their interrogation of the sniper had been the reward offered to the big man upon completion of the job. Apparently, the food stores at the shelter included very little actual meat, and aside from a promised place in Ray’s hierarchy, the added “hazard duty pay” of two slabs of precious ham nestled between slices of bread had been negotiated. A moment later, Ray’s voice sounded again from the speaker of the radio.
“Jimmy, I’ve got our squad leaders here and we’re ready for a briefing on the situation. Just give us a quick rundown, and then let us ask some questions if we need to, OK?
“OK but I can’t use my notebook to refer to right now.”
“Why not? I told you to take good notes.” A wedge of aggravation crept into the voice coming from the speaker.
“Ray, you may be sitting behind the locked metal doors of a giant fire truck with a bunch of armed people all around you, but my fat ass is all alone and hanging in the breeze out here. In case you haven’t noticed, it’s still dark outside, and if I turn on my flashlight to read my notes, I’m going to stick out like a sore thumb to anyone, or anything in the area.”
Andy smiled at the fat man’s answer. So far, so good.
Ray’s attempt at an apologetic voice tone quickly came to the radio. “Hey Jimmy, I’m sorry man. You’re right, I just wasn’t thinking. Just do the best you can, OK?”
“Yeah . . . you ready?”
“We’re all here and listening.”
“OK, the first thing is that you’re not gonna be able to drive up to the house. The old man has been using his tractor to pile a bunch of concrete chunks across the narrow part of the driveway by where it meets with the parking lot at the back of the marina.”
“Can we go around it?”
“No, I don’t think so. It drops off on one side straight into a bunch of reeds and cattails right next to the lake, and the other side has a pretty steep drainage ditch that runs until it meets with the edge of the woods. If you have a four-wheeler or motorcycle, you can squeak by on that side without too much of a problem . . . but there’s no way a regular car, much less the fire truck, or even the half track is getting up to the house right now.”
A different voice combining an odd mix of bass overtones overlaid with a Canadian accent came across. “Jimmy . . . if dey got da road blocked, how’s dey getting’ oot demselves?”
Andy smiled again. This was one of the questions they had prepared for.
“They’ve got one of those little utility vehicles, a Kawasaki I think, that they run back and forth in. I’ve also seen another car moving up and down the driveway carrying people. Other than that, they’ve moved all of their other cars and trucks down to the marina. Most of them are parked inside of the big warehouse, but they usually keep one or two outside next to the barrier across the driveway.”
“What about guards? Are there any changes from what Diane told us?” It was Ray’s voice again.
“Just relax Jimmy,” Andy commented in a friendly tenor, “you know how to answer this question. You’re doing really good so far, and it won’t be long before you’re back home safe and sound.”
Triple chins vibrated in conjunction with a deep sigh from the bagged fat man, and he keyed the transmit button on the radio. “You’re going to love this one Ray. There’s hardly anybody left to be a guard.”
“What do you mean?”
“Yesterday morning, most everybody in the group was down at that gas station and a bunch of creeps came out of the weeds by the lake. It must’ve taken ‘em by surprise, ‘cause by the time it was over, there were bodies layin’ everywhere. I can’t tell you the exact numbers, ‘cause a creep on the ground looks the same as a non-creep from my distance, but I only saw about eight of them—the people, I mean—getting ferried back to the house on the utility vehicle.”
“That really good news, Jimmy.”
“Well then you’re going to love this. Yesterday afternoon, the old man and a few other guys—five of them I think, although it might have been six—came down and cleaned up the bodies with the loader on the tractor. They’re dropping them into the metal dumpster across the road. Anyhow, when they were finished, three of them—all guys—hopped in a green dodge pickup and headed west.”
“Any idea on where they’re going?” Ray asked.
“I don’t think they’re coming back.”
“What makes you say that, Jimmy?”
“Well, they ain’t been back yet, but more importantly, they all shook hands with the old guy before they got in the truck.”
“That’s a good observation. Did you happen to notice if one of them was a really tall, wiry guy?”
“Nah, I couldn’t really tell for sure.”
There was a pause of dead air before the radio crackled to life again. “OK Jimmy, I think our job is going to be really easy, but what about the guys on the roof?”
“Last night they put a guy up on the roof of the gas station. I can’t say for certain who it was, though.”
“Only one guy?”
“That’s all they’ve put there for the past two days.”
“What about in the daytime?”
“Same thing—only one guy. The daytime guard on the roof has been that black fellow, so I guess that’s his regular shift.
“Will you have a line of sight on him from your new position?”
Jimmy chuckled into the radio. “When it gets light enough to shoot, if I pull the trigger, my bullet is going to hit him just behind his right ear.”
“OK, we may just have you do that. Is there anything else we need to know? Guards . . . schedules . . . habits . . . anything at all?” This time, the barely suppressed excitement in Ray’s voice was evident.
“Um . . ., well I guess if it were me leading this little party, I’d wait until mid-afternoon before I rolled up.”
“Why?”
“Because every afternoon so far—normally about 3:30 PM—a bunch of them come down to the gas station and go inside. I don’t know what they’re doing in there, maybe eating or something, but they stay for about an hour. So if it was me, I’d wait until then and catch ‘em all with their britches down.”
“Do you think you can hold out that long
without a ham sandwich?” Ray chuckled.
“I’ve got one packet of food left. Its beef stroganoff . . . and I hate beef stroganoff. But I’ll choke it down if it means we’ll have a better chance of surprise.”
“Diane says they have a freezer full of venison up at the house. How about if I make sure you get first choice?”
“I believe I can hang out here without starving to death until this afternoon, so I guess you’ve got yourself a deal.”
“10-4. We’ll stay at the staging area until this afternoon. Keep us informed of any changes that you notice, and give us a heads up when you see them go into the gas station.”
Fade to Grey (Book 2): Darkness Ascending Page 66
