by J. T. Lewis
She was a good fit!
“Yeah, stakeouts and grid searches being so romantic,” I shot back at her. “Your relationship will be that much stronger if you can make it through that.”
Bringing her plate to the sink, she smiled at me before giving me a peck on the cheek.
“I hear ya Pops.”
Giggling, she left the kitchen to get ready for the day.
Preacher was grinning when I looked over at him.
“Spunky girl, that one,” he nodded after her.
“Ain’t that the truth,” I exclaimed as I finished up my plate. “I don’t know what I would do without her!”
“Amen to that!” Preacher added sincerely.
“I’ve got the Mercedes all ready to go,” I mentioned as I cleared the table. “It’s a little more comfortable for a long day in the saddle.”
“Sounds good to me,” Preacher responded, getting up from his chair. “I’ll head out to my car to collect my stuff.”
I had a good feeling about the day. I had a feeling that this would be the day that we found Bill Jones…or whoever he was.
Finishing up the breakfast dishes, I grabbed the keys off the counter and yelled to Abby that I was leaving.
“Be careful!” She called back from her room as I was leaving the house.
I smiled at her concern. After what I’d been through the night before, today should be a breeze!
Chapter 74
September 29, 1999
Bill pulled the shifter into gear as the Mercedes passed.
Releasing the clutch slowly, he easily slid into the passing traffic and followed it at a comfortable distance.
Having discovered that some of Celtic’s crew had been searching the area around his home the day before, Bill had stepped up his preparations.
Hitting upon the perfect solution for part of his retribution, Bill was now giddy with excitement as his plan unfolded.
He continued following the tan car ahead, easily keeping it in sight without arousing suspicion.
They will never be expecting this! he mumbled to himself happily.
Knowing he had a good twenty miles before he put his plan into action, Bill was relaxed. Sipping his coffee slowly, he sang along to a country song on the local radio station.
Planning had always been his forte. And the plan today was as tight as he could make it, knowing that he only had to depend on himself this time.
And he never failed to execute!
The play on words that crossed his thoughts tickled him so much that he started giggling as he downshifted for the entrance ramp.
***
I kept my speed down to 50 as I made my way up the interstate, the deluge of rain pounding us making hydroplaning a reality.
“This doesn’t bode well,” Preacher mumbled in the seat beside me, a worried look showing below his Elvis eyewear.
I shrugged.
“I don’t think it’s supposed to rain all day Preacher, it shouldn’t hinder our search too badly.”
“I hope,” I added as the downpour suddenly intensified.
My windshield wipers were slapping at the water on full speed now, and I slowed ever further as it became harder to see.
Setting his Bible down on the seat, he took out his .38 and checked the cylinder.
“Expecting trouble?” I asked, slightly concerned about his actions.
“I got a feeling, that’s for sure,” he replied seriously, setting the gun down on the seat beside him. Turning, he looked behind us through the back window, but could make out nothing but sheets of water running down the glass.
***
Bill shifted down a gear, cramming the accelerator to the floor as he excitedly gripped the wheel with both hands.
This was perfect!
The unexpected downpour would not only aid in the execution of his plan, it would be even easier to make his getaway undetected!
Shifting down once more to gain RPM’s on the motor, he smashed the accelerator to the floor as he saw his target ahead.
“How do you like this Roy!” he screamed into the windshield as his eyes grew wide in a wild glee!
***
“It’s probably nothing,” I tried to reassure Preacher. “Want me to slow down some more?”
He was jumpy now, his eyes quickly darting from side mirror to back window repeatedly.
“I don’t know what it is!” He sounded exasperated. “I just feel something…in my bones!”
I was worried now. Whether I was just reflecting Preacher’s angst, or if something had suddenly reached my own senses I wasn’t sure. But there was something palpable in the air now, the feeling making me grip the wheel tightly.
“Maybe I should pull off to the side of the road for a bit,” I suggested, turning on the turn signal in preparation.
“That’s not a bad idea,” Preacher intoned as he looked behind us again. “It couldn’t hurt to…Holy Mother of God!”
Glancing worriedly at my partner, something caught my eye in the rearview mirror.
My heart stopped as I saw the headlights of a semi truck rapidly approaching us from behind!
Chapter 75
September 29, 1999
Reacting instinctively, I crushed the pedal to the floor in an effort to gain some speed before the truck smashed into us.
The German diesel screamed to life at my insistence, giving us a couple of seconds and hopefully lessening the force of the collision slightly. I had just swung the wheel hard to the left when the deafening sound of crushing metal hit our ears, the car fishtailing momentarily before starting to slide end for end in the middle of the highway. Thrown about severely during the spin, my head bounced off the window more than once as I sensed the semi blowing past us at high speed.
I wasn’t sure the spinning would ever stop as we continued sliding down the highway in fast circles, the water on the road offering little resistance to slow us down.
Finally, I could sense my world slowing and I reached for the Glock in my shoulder holster. Gun in hand when we stopped, the world continued to spin for a few moments as I fought to gain some equilibrium.
Finally the spinning lessened and I could make out through the rain the semi parked on the side of the road ahead of us. Jumping out of the cab, a thin man in work clothes and a dark ball cap started running toward our location…with some kind of large automatic weapon in his hand.
“Incoming!” I shouted as I reached for the door handle. Glancing over toward Preacher, I saw him fumbling around under the seat, looking for his revolver. Seeing the man quickly approaching, he grabbed his Bible and flopped it down on the seat. Opening it up to a cutout section of pages, he extracted a small automatic pistol located inside.
Even with imminent danger approaching, I found myself wondering about Preacher defacing part of the Bible.
Glancing at me and seeing my expression, he shrugged.
“Deuteronomy, that book’s a waste anyway.”
In that split second of time, we both grinned, a surge of fearlessness coursing through our bodies.
Jumping out of our respective doors, we were instantly drenched, and I had a hard time finding the man through the torrential downpour.
Suddenly I heard a war hoop from out of the gloom and the flash of the muzzle a split second before the ripping sound of the automatic reached my ears.
“Down!” I screamed as we both splashed onto the rain-soaked earth of the median.
I could feel a few of the bullets passing by overhead, but the noise soon stopped.
As I stood up quickly, I was counting on three things that I thought were in our favor:
-That the man had never fired an automatic weapon before and didn’t realize how hard it is to hit something with them;
-That he also didn’t realize how short of time a clip lasts when you are firing 1000 rounds per minute;
-And finally… that he hadn’t brought an extra clip!
The anguished scream coming from the inexperienced
shooter assured me that I had guessed correctly, and I poured on the steam to try to catch up with him.
Seeing me running toward him, the man threw down the weapon and turned on his heel, running toward the parked semi. A passing car almost hit him in the blinding rain as he crossed the highway.
“I’ll go around behind the trailer,” Preacher shouted, changing his course and angling toward the back of the truck.
My already sore muscles were fighting my attempts at running, and instead of speeding up, I found that I seemed to be slowing.
“Shit!” I screamed in frustration as I put everything I had into coaxing a little more speed out of my legs.
Passing the door to the cab, Bill rounded the front of the truck and sprinted toward the guardrail.
Preacher, who moved amazingly fast for a big man, had only moments before he cleared the back of the trailer. As he was running up the length of the trailer toward the cab, he caught a glimpse of Bill leaping over the guardrail and got off a couple of shots at him before he disappeared into a wooded area down the hill.
Rounding the front of the cab then, I saw Preacher standing there looking down the hill as I started climbing over the rail.
Suddenly, I felt the steely grip of Preacher on my arm.
“Let him go Gabe,” he said quietly.
“But we can get him!” I panted, my mind much more fervent than my body.
We both stood there looking at each other, panting for all we were worth. It didn’t take long for my exhaustion to catch up with me, and I fell to my knees on the wet grass, trying to catch my breath as my adrenaline level drained away to nothing.
“Ok,” I finally conceded, “I’m spent, I can admit it now.”
“Thank God!” Preacher breathed heavily as he leaned over with hands on knees to also catch his breath.
“Guy must be pure energy,” I exclaimed, looking longingly down the hill and into the woods.
“Evil,” Preacher panted, nodding his head, “Evil energy.”
As we stood there catching our breath, Preacher suddenly grinned mischievously.
“At least one good thing came out of our encounter,” he said happily.
Unsure as to what I could rationalize as good about the day so far, I asked him what he meant.
Reaching down to the ground, he stroked a piece of grass with two fingers, bringing them up in front of me and spreading them apart.
“I got a piece of him!” he grinned as he showed me the blood on them.
Chapter 76
September 29, 1999
The multitude of red and blue strobing lights refracting through the pouring rain gave our world the look of an eerie circus.
It seemed that every cop in the county had descended on the scene of the shootout. Two K9 units were among the first to arrive and promptly tried to follow the fleeing Bill with no luck, the rain obliterating any scent for the dogs to follow.
Soaking wet, Preacher and I stood under the hastily erected command tent giving our statement to a Captain in the Ripley County Sheriff’s Department. Knowing it would be unwise to bring undo attention on to Preacher, we downplayed his role to merely being that of an unwitting passenger in the car.
“Gabe!” I heard behind me, turning to find Abby running through the median before crushing me in a hug.
“What happened?” she asked worriedly as she looked me over, “Are you hurt?”
Assuring her that I was ok, she then gave Preacher a hug and asked after him also before asking again what had happened.
Explaining the attack to her, the concern on her face was promptly replaced with a grin.
“Desperate enough to attack and now on the run, he’ll start making mistakes now!”
Suddenly seeming sorry for her enthusiasm, she apologized.
“I didn’t mean to sound so happy over your attack,” she admitted, “God that sounded creepy!”
Taking her into my arms, I couldn’t help but laugh at her reactions.
“You come by it natural,” I grinned. “Besides, you’re absolutely right, he’s on the run now. We need to find him before he has a chance to recover!”
Nate came running through the rain then, in a hurry to get under the protection of the tent. Removing the hood of the rain poncho, he looked worriedly at me, and then at Preacher. Not recognizing him, he nodded at him and turned back toward me.
“You ok Gabe?”
“Yeah, no worse for wear I guess.”
“I just talked to some of the deputies,” he motioned behind him, “they think the guy had a car parked on the county road about 500 yards off of the interstate. He was probably long gone before any law enforcement even arrived on the scene.”
Abby grabbed his arm excitedly, “He is on the run Nate! His plan has been foiled and he is running out of options. We need to get back on the hunt! He’s at his most vulnerable now!”
Nodding, he looked back at me. “Are you riding by yourself Gabe?” he asked looking over to where Preacher had been.
Gone.
“Is your car ok,” he added as he scanned the area for the man he had seen earlier.
“I think the Mercedes is ok, it was a glancing blow to the back corner. I’ll be right along,” I started, looking back at the Captain. “Are we done here?” I asked the deputy.
Nodding, “We’re ok, for now Mr. Celtic. I may need to talk to you again in the future though.
Nodding, I turned and followed Abby and Nate back to the highway.
Preacher was nowhere in sight.
Pecking me on the cheek before running the final way to her car, Abby yelled back, “See you!”
Still not seeing hide nor hair of Preacher, I made my way quickly to the car, opening the door and sliding in the seat quickly to get out of the rain.
“Ready to go?” Preacher asked innocently from the passenger seat.
If I hadn’t been so tired, and my muscles so sore, I might have jumped at the sound of his voice, I could have sworn there was no one sitting there when I opened the door.
“Enjoyed your disappearing act,” I mentioned with a small smile as I turned the key in the ignition. The diesel clanked a couple of times before roaring to life.
“It’s a gift,” he mumbled, staring out the passenger window.
“And a bit of a curse I imagine,” I added, slipping the shifter into drive and getting back onto the pavement. My attention was immediately drawn to a hole in the windshield. Apparently the result of one of the shooter’s errant bullets, it was nonetheless positioned at the perfect spot to allow water to drip onto my leg.
“Abby was right you know,” Preacher said suddenly, turning back toward me. “His world is crumbling around him now, and he will probably make some mistakes. But even a house cat can be dangerous if you corner it. I think our biggest problem right now may be his unpredictability.”
Accelerating the car, at 40 MPH it started shaking badly. It felt like I was driving sideways down the road, the frame probably bent. Lowering the speed back to 30, the shaking settled down a bit. The old car had apparently taken a harder hit than I had believed.
“Our biggest problem may be just getting to Greensburg,” I said with a sigh.
Chapter 77
September 29, 1999
“Shit!” Bill screamed as he accelerated his car down the county road.
Although it hadn’t hit an artery, the Elvis-looking guy’s lucky shot was bleeding profusely, his right leg throbbing from the bullet within.
The wound had slowed his escape, and he had still been 100 yards from the car when he had heard the first of the approaching sirens. Redoubling his efforts, he picked up some added speed but then lost that advantage as he tried to scale the now wet hill leading to the county road.
By the time he had reached the car, he could hear the baying of the dogs heading toward him.
He was pissed!
“Bastards!” he screamed as he entered the interstate from the county road.
What was with these p
eople? he asked himself angrily as he ignored the monsoon around him and floored the accelerator.
Who do I gotta fuck to make them die!?
Still fuming, he suddenly realized that he needed to tone down his driving before it attracted too much attention. Letting up on the pedal, he slowed the car to a reasonable speed for the conditions.
He needed to get home to think, but first he needed to exchange cars at his storage barn.
Having bought the old farm years before, its one function was the use of the dilapidated looking barn as storage for some old cars and other equipment he used when he didn’t want to be recognized.
Taking the next exit off of the interstate, he drove the ten miles to the intersection of the old lane leading to the farm.
Located at the end of a dead-end road, Bill had absolutely no neighbors to contend with, which suited his purposes splendidly. Pulling up to the building, he exited the car and swung the large door open before pulling the old car in with the rest of his collection.
Pulling the door closed behind him then, he made a beeline for his workbench, finding some rags that weren’t too dirty to wrap around his wounded leg.
He had to grit his teeth when he tied off the rags; the pain was so bad that he started seeing stars in his vision. Reaching out to the workbench to steady himself, he stood still for a few minutes until the lightheaded feeling subsided.
Taking a deep breath, he made his way slowly once more to the huge door of the barn, opening it and backing out his everyday car before closing it again.
He headed out the lane slowly as he tried to fathom a plan for his next move.
By the time he once more reached the interstate however, he had yet to come up with anything…except anger.
Seething anger welled within his chest, and he could taste the now ever-present bile in his throat.
Deciding to put off any further decisions until he reached the solitude of his home, he let the anger fester within him.
He would come out of this on top! he rationalized to himself confidently.
