by Bryan Nowak
He yawned and stretched his tired body. They needed this little break. Exhaustion led to mistakes, and they couldn’t afford to make any. In the morning, they had to play the role of the perfect federal agents. The fake identification cards, very real badges, and leather belts and other police equipment lay in a pile on a desk. With the official looking garb, it should be easy to get into the house under the guise of an official inspection. Matthew told Shelly that they needed to gain access to the entire house to ensure they were compliant with ecological regulations. The simplicity of the plan was an asset. However, luck could play a deciding role in the ultimate outcome.
Turning his head on the small pillow, he heard soft snoring coming from the other bunk. He listened to the gentle rhythm of the boy’s breathing for a while. The noise reminded him of Kelley. He wondered again, not for the first time, if his daughter was worried about him. Maybe she’d gone out looking for him. Mike prayed silently for the morning to come swiftly and for a successful mission.
****
Meghan tried to make herself comfortable on the rock-hewn floor of the cave. Having lost the concept of time or anything else for that matter, sleep could be coming in the middle of the day or night. The reverend had brought her a pillow, blanket, and additional food, but she refused to even make eye contact with him.
In the dark of her cell, she thought about Kyle, wondering, if he was okay. She’d make sure he made it out of Riapoke, even if it meant sacrificing her own life. Tank’s odd warning about the weird town came to mind, a warning that no longer seemed odd at all. If anything, it stuck in Meghan’s chest like a knife.
She had an unmistakable feeling that Kyle was safe, wherever he was. Stretching out a hand, she envisioned touching him. For a moment, they would be together somehow. Meghan remembered reading something about how all the molecules of the world are connected. If that were true, then wherever they were, they still had a connection and he might sense her.
She found a relatively flat spot on the rocky floor and wrapped the blanket around herself. Even in this cold, wet, and forlorn cavern, sleep came.
****
“Are you kidding me? How could you be so careless?” Donny screamed. “I gave you one thing to do and you couldn’t handle a simple task that should have come almost as second nature.” The scared teenage girl shrank from his anger, trying to disappear into the cushions of the sofa.
Tears streamed from Elizabeth’s eyes. “I’m sorry, Daddy. I didn’t mean to screw it up. I just thought—”
Donny leaned forward with a vicious glare. “You just thought? I’m not sure you really did. You should have used that brain of yours! You spend too much time hanging out with your friends and it’s turned your brain to mush. You weren’t even paying half attention to what I wanted you to do.”
“You said, not to let him leave the town,” she retorted. “You wanted me to watch him. Now there is no way he’ll leave town and we can keep an eye on him. I don’t see the problem here.” She leaned forward on the couch, trying to defend her position.
Donny held his head in his hands. “Honey, you accused him of rape! Matthew arrested him. Now he’s in the jail, pending testing. And you know those tests will come back negative. We know this because his door was locked until after he got out of bed. I made sure they were remotely locked. Tell me sweetie, what do you think The Master is going to say when we tell him Kyle hates you? You two are supposed to search for his mother together, fall in love, and stay in town. Now Kyle isn’t going to want to so much as look at you, let alone spend any time with you.” He paced the room. Instinctively fidgeting with a stress ball on the desk and squeezing it until his knuckles turned white.
She stood up from the couch. “I’ve got it, Daddy. I know how to fix this.”
He sneered at her. “Oh please tell me your plan, oh great one.”
“Okay, I screwed up. I admit it. We get Kyle back here and maybe drug his dinner. We lock him up here and then I’ll work my girl charms on him. And then—”
Donny put a hand up, imploring her to stop. “Oh geez, just stop right there. I don’t want you to do anything. Keep an eye open for Kyle and if you see him, you call me. And for The Master’s sake, don’t talk to him. For tonight, Matthew says he’s in a jail cell, pending test results.”
“Dad, you’re the high priest. Why don’t you just tell that stooge to bring him back here?”
Donny shook his head. “Because, darling, he’s the law in this town. Like it or not, I need cooperation from others, and people respect Matthew. You are going to have to learn that pushing people too hard could result in them pushing back. Better to control his authority than try to usurp it.”
She nodded, lowering her head. “Sorry I messed this up, Daddy. I know you’ll figure this out.” She stood up and left the room, closing the office door behind her.
Donny sat back in his chair and contemplated the next move. There were a few hiccups, but things were still under control. The scare he put into Meghan ensured she’d cooperate for Kyle’s sake. Kyle sat in the cell at the police station. The Master, still full of concern about the situation, was presently content. Waylon had been eliminated as a potential threat. Every loose thread appeared tied up and trimmed for the moment.
Yawning at the late hour, the trees across the driveway bent to the will of the strong wind. A storm brewed just over the horizon, common this time of year. If they were lucky enough, it’d be just a light rain.
The phone rang in his pocket, shocking him from his thoughts. “Hello? Oh, hello, Matthew. I thought about calling you. I wanted to know how our guest was getting along. Uh huh … I see. Well good then.”
Matthew bantered on for a little while longer about several details he didn’t care about. Donny stared at a tree branch that fell into the driveway in the wind. He contemplated an expedient exit from the inane prattle of the conservation officer when a string of words caught his attention. “What’s that? Inspectors from where? Oh yeah? I see. Okay, bring them over tomorrow morning, so we can get it over with. We’ve got a big day tomorrow and I don’t want anything to screw it up. What’s that? Yes, that’s right, first thing in the morning.”
Donny hit the call end button on the phone. The trees outside stopped moving as the wind gusts died down. “That might be the worst of it,” Donny said to himself. He knew better, though; the storm would still come. This was just a brief respite from its fury.
Invasive Species
Matthew opened and closed the door to the station as gingerly as possible. The beds in the cells were hard to sleep on under the best of circumstances, having napped on them quite a few times. The night before he’d considered bringing Mike and Kyle back to his house to sleep in the guest rooms; however, their presence might be difficult to explain to the neighbors.
He placed two large shopping bags he was carrying on the large table in the center of the room. Out of one, be took out a bottle of juice and milk, unsure what Mike or Kyle wanted to drink. He also made a pot of coffee.
Kyle stretched out as Matthew worked at setting up a breakfast spread. Glancing over at the boy, it struck him how extraordinarily tall he was. His large feet hung over the edge of the metal cot bolted to the wall of the cell. Pouring himself a first cup of coffee, the idea of having a son played out in his imagination. Matthew saw a younger version of himself playing ball with a kid in the front yard of a nondescript house somewhere in the suburbs.
Taking a young boy out on a camping trip into the hills, could be great fun. Matthew always loved the woods, especially camping. As a child, wandering the hills and forests around their home was a favorite past time.
When he drove Kyle and his mother to Donny’s house, he stole a furtive glance or two in the rear view mirror. Meghan was attractive in a plain sort of way. Even dressed in a bikini top and cutoffs, she maintained a dignified air about her. Although quite a bit older than he, she’d be nice to get to know. That, however, was highly unlikely when this was resolved. After all,
it was he who delivered Meghan and Kyle into the waiting clutches of Donny in the first place. Had he seen how all the pieces would fit together then, he could have saved a lot of heart ache.
He didn’t want to frighten anyone, however, their chances of escape were small. The odds of them making it out of town before someone tried to stop them were even more minuscule. Taking up this mission meant risking everything. Once they left for the reverend’s house there was no turning back. His career in law enforcement and his standing in the church would be over. He silently doubted any one of them would survive. However, they had to try for the sake of giving the town its best chance at freedom.
Matthew remembered reading about the scorched-earth policy the Soviets employed during the Second World War. The same went for his personal, and newly declared, war against the Church of The Master. Even if he destroyed Donny, The Master would remain and start fresh. If the opportunity presented itself, The Master, must die as well.
Last night he wrote two letters. One addressed to his mother and father and the second to his sister. In the letters he gave them specific instructions on what to do today. No matter the outcome of the impending battle, he wanted them to just leave town and never return. It was his insurance policy. By some miracle, if he survived, he’d find them. If not, he’d die knowing they were safe.
“Morning.” Mike’s voice interrupted Matthew’s train of thought.
Matthew motioned to the paper bags. “I brought breakfast. Not sure what you wanted to drink so I brought juice and milk. Got a couple of bagels and donuts. Not fancy, enough to get us through today.”
Mike watched Kyle sleeping soundly. “Should I wake the kid up?”
“No, let him sleep a bit more. We have time before we have to leave,” Matthew paused for a moment. “You know, Mike, I want to make sure you fully understand what we are about to do.”
Mike lowered his voice to just above an audible whisper. “You’re about to lose your badge, and I’ll likely get disbarred for this. If we catch a few lucky breaks, we will save a woman I hardly know. If we don’t, we’ll never make it out of here alive. Sound about right?”
Matthew nodded, “Sounds about right.”
“What do you think our chances are?”
“Realistically, only one in twenty might be optimistic. I don’t want to sound harsh, but the odds aren’t really in our favor. Oh, that reminds me.” Matthew reached into a desk drawer and fished around a bit, pulling out a revolver and a box of ammunition. “Ever used one of these?”
“A couple of times.” Mike took the pistol from Matthew. “Pretty much just point and shoot, right?”
“Basically, yeah. Double action revolver, you can pull through the hammer action and fire the weapon or pull back the hammer and squeeze the trigger. Here’s the thing, don’t pull it out unless we really need it. I know what you must think of the people of Riapoke, but there are good people living here. People that I don’t want to see get hurt. As you know, I’m breaking about a gazillion laws as it is. I draw the line at shooting innocent people.”
“You don’t exactly have the corner on risk here. I’m likely to get disbarred for this.”
Matthew’s mind flashed back to his final moments with Waylon. Ultimately he’d have to square that with more competent authorities, likely standing trial for the murder of Waylon and whomever they dealt with along the way. He doubted the bloodshed was over. The best thing now would be to try and keep Mike out of as much trouble as possible. No sense in ruining both their lives.
Behind the men a loud yawn broke the silence. Kyle sat up on the cot and peered over at them. “Oh, breakfast.”
Mike smiled. “Do teenage boys ever think about anything other than food?”
Kyle frowned at them, “Yes, their mothers.”
Matthew felt like an ass. Kyle had more to lose in this fight than anyone else. At the end of all of this a young boy might lose his mother and that thought likely terrified Kyle.
“Fair enough,” Mike said, dissipating the sudden tension in the air. “What do you say you gulp down juice, get dressed, and we can be on our way. We have a damsel in distress to save.”
Kyle smiled at the idea. Matthew decided it was best to put as a positive spin on the situation as possible. Rehashing the discussion about the odds likely wouldn’t help. It’d be better if Kyle didn’t know how impossible the situation truly was.
A little while later, Kyle still chewed on a donut while buttoning up the shirt they altered to look like a Department of Interior uniform. Matthew inspected them and nodded his satisfaction at the way they looked. A leather belt with pouches and snaps completed the ensemble, making them look like official law enforcement personnel.
While Mike fastened the revolver into the holster on the belt, Matthew handed Kyle a dummy weapon that looked real enough to a casual observer.
“Hey, don’t I get a real weapon?” he said, sounding a little put out.
Matthew frowned at the teen. “Really, Kyle, do I even have to justify that question with an answer?”
Mike chimed in, “Sorry kid, your mother would never forgive me if I let you walk around with a loaded gun.”
“You guys are no fun at all.”
“Ah, but I do have the perfect second prize,” Matthew said.
“Oh yeah?”
Matthew threw Kyle his keys. “Yep, you get to drive the squad truck.”
Mike glared at Matthew. “Really?”
“Sure,” Matthew folded his arms. “Actually, it makes sense. If we need to get out of there fast, we want someone at the wheel who is already familiar with the truck. I really don’t want us fleeing for our lives with a kid at the wheel who has never driven the truck before. This way we get a little more experience behind the wheel.
Kyle drove especially careful, possibly because of nerves or in an attempt to impress the two men. The drive to the house was short; however, to Matthew the time moved along intolerably slow. His mind rehearsed every potential thing that could go wrong. Mike’s worry about Meghan had obviously rubbed off on him.
When they arrived at the reverend’s security gate, Matthew and Kyle switched places and Matthew pressed the button on the security intercom. A speaker crackled to life. Matthew knew, from his talks with the security staff, the video monitor on the front gate wasn’t working so he wasn’t worried about the video camera seeing Kyle.
“Hey, it’s Matthew. We have an appointment.”
“Good Morning Matthew. We’ve been expecting you,” the voice over the speaker said.
“Excellent. We’ll be as brief as possible.”
The gates opened slowly, its rusty hinges creaking under the metallic strain of heavy steel. Matthew pulled the truck forward and parked in the space giving them the quickest exit out the driveway if they needed it. With a nod to Kyle, the boy slid over to the driver’s position. The hairs on the back of Matthew’s neck stood up as he nodded over to Mike sitting in the back seat. “Are you ready for this?”
“Not really. Sitting here isn’t going to make me any more ready though, so let’s get on with it.”
“Kyle,” Matthew said, “whatever you do, don’t get out of this truck. If anything happens, the police radio is set to channel 4. I want you to get on it and say, the weather service predicts a storm.”
Kyle gave him a quizzical look. “Really? A little cliché, don’t you think?”
“No, you see the regular citywide radio channel gets some bleed over from channel 4, the weather channel. If you say, ‘the weather service predicts a storm’, we’ll hear it and know to come back to the truck. Anyone else hearing it will just think it’s a piece of the weather report and nothing more.”
Kyle practiced reciting the line a few times. “The weather service predicts a storm … the weather service predicts a storm. Got it.”
“Kyle,” Mike interjected, “if your mom is in there, we’ll get her out.”
Kyle didn’t respond, remaining focused on the task at hand.
> ****
Mike took point, knocking on the door with an official-sounding rap. Although they’d practiced what he would say and thought the verbiage was set in his mind, the words suddenly escaped his mental grasp. Breaking into a sweat, panic set in as the sounds of footsteps approaching the door boomed in his eardrums. The lock made a metallic click as the deadbolt slid back. The first word eluded him. He remembered the middle part and not the first. Suddenly he could only remember the last thing he needed to say. Beads of sweat poured from him, cascading down his back, wetting his undershirt.
Regardless of his nerves, it was show time.
“Good Morning. You must be the inspector Matthew was telling us about.” A grizzled man in his early sixties stood in front of them. The man looked a hundred and twenty pounds if he wore cement shoes.
Mike’s brain finally, mercifully, engaged. “I am. My name is special agent Charles Mayhew, from the Department of Interior.” He unclipped the identification badge from his shirt, handing it to the man.
“Names George Whimbly, head of security for the parsonage and church. Come in, by all means.” Taking the badge and holding it up to a clipboard, George made a few notes with a pen and handed it back to Mike. “Seems like everything’s in order. What did you say you needed to look at?”
Mike grasped at what to say. Opening his mouth, words came out as he silently prayed for his brain to engage and help make sense of it all. “At the department, we’re looking into areas where there have been instances of the hemlock woolly adelgid. It’s pretty invasive just over the state line in West Virginia, and we want to see how Virginia is handling them. I’m inspecting homes surrounded by trees to catch any signs they could be around. I’ll want to look in every room if I can. It shouldn’t take long.”
The night before, Mike, Matthew and Kyle sat at the table and crafted the narrative surrounding their bogus reason for the visit. It wasn’t unusual for forestry experts to come to the area to check for invasive species from time to time. The bug is certainly real insect. If anyone bothered to check their story, however, they’d likely find out government employees didn’t normally scour the countryside looking for them and certainly don’t inspect houses. They’d staked their lives on George, and the rest of the staff, not bothering to check.
