by Steven Bird
Clearing his throat, Jessie continued, “I just couldn’t live with myself if I just let it go and kept going, so I gave the dead their proper respects and began to watch the town from a distance. That’s where I bumped into him” he said, gesturing toward T. R. “He says he’s had enough of Peronne and was running away to link up with his family in Oklahoma. He seems legit, but I’ve been keeping my eye on him, hoping I can trust him,” Jessie said, getting his point across to both T. R. and Jack.
Looking Jack squarely in the eye, Jessie added, “He said your daughter works at City Hall and may have some information to help us figure out what happened to anyone who might have been taken during the ambush.”
As Angela started to answer, Jack interrupted, saying, “So, let me get this straight. A total stranger, who was just passing by, is risking his neck to check on other total strangers that might not even be alive? Why the hell would you do that?”
“Only worrying about ourselves is what got us into this mess,” Jessie replied. “You’ve got no right to complain about the world around you if you’re not gonna be man enough to do something about it. Thinking of my own children, and how if they were still alive and something happened to me, I would want someone to try to lend them a hand. Besides, like I said, I lost everything. What do I have to lose?”
“Your life,” Jack replied.
“There’s not much value in that if it’s not a life well lived,” Jessie quickly responded. “Staying on the run isn’t a life, it’s an existence.”
“So, you’re the one?” Angela said, looking at T. R., continuing what she was going to say before she was interrupted.
“The one?” Jack enquired.
“I overheard some of the men saying that one of the officers deserted. They were saying they were really gonna mess him up when they found him.”
“They’ve tried that already,” said Jessie. “It didn’t work out for them.”
“Sounds like you’re really stirring up a mess,” replied Jack.
“You’ve already got a mess,” Jessie stated. “The only thing is, no one is doing anything about it.”
Seeming to take offense at Jessie’s statement, Jack started to reply as T. R. interjected, “Look, the reason we are here is that I thought Angela might have seen or heard something.”
“Seen or heard what?” she asked.
“Barnes was joking about some woman they were keeping somewhere, who, at least from the sound of it, wasn’t being treated very lady-like, to say the least. The timing of which coincides with the timing of what Jessie says happened east of town.”
Thinking for a moment, she added, “I’ve not heard anything directly, but now that you mention it, Rosa had been taking things back and forth to the detention center from Peronne’s home. That sort of lines up with what you are saying.”
“Things? What sort of things?” T. R. asked.
“Laundry, food, bedding, and such,” she replied. “I didn’t really think much of it at the time. I just assumed it was for officers on overnight duty somewhere. It might be nothing, but it also might be what you are talking about.”
“Why would they be keeping someone against their will like that?” Jack asked. “Well, I guess I can think of a few reasons they would be keeping a woman, based on human nature alone, but why the children?”
Taking a deep breath, T. R. spoke up and said, “Let me explain to you exactly what I know, and where some of the supplies Peronne keeps pumping into the town come from.”
For the next few minutes, T. R. explained to Jack and Angela what he had previously told Jessie about how Chief Peronne lures unsuspecting travelers to the outskirts of Fort Sumner in order to steal their supplies, and often times their freedom, trading them to a human-trafficking ring with which Peronne has allegiance.
Before anyone else could respond, Jack interrupted, saying, “I’ve got to talk to my daughter in private for a moment. You two wait right here. Don’t go anywhere and don’t touch anything. Understood?”
“Yes, sir,” Jessie replied. “Your home, your castle.”
As Jack and Angela left the room, T. R. looked at Jessie and said, “Well, that went better than I expected.”
With a chuckle, Jessie said, “It ain’t over yet. He might just be going to get his guttin’ knife. You might end up being dog food for Tyke.”
“Ha, ha,” T. R. responded sarcastically.
A few moments later, Jack and Angela came back into the room carrying several towels and neatly folded sets of men’s clothing. “Here,” Jack said, tossing them each a set of clothes. “You both look like you’re roughly my size. Get out of those wet clothes. You’re getting my kitchen floor all wet. You’ll sleep in the basement tonight. Tomorrow, Angela will see what she can find out, and we’ll go from there about how we’re gonna deal with this. If she verifies what you say, well, we want to help. We’ve had about enough of the goings on around here. But if what you say isn’t true, well, you’ve opened a can of worms for yourselves. You’ve picked the wrong guy to con if you’re pullin’ a con.”
“That sounds good to us,” Jessie replied. “Just keep in mind that time is of the essence in a situation like this. If they are keeping someone, especially children, the longer this drags on, the less likely there will be a good outcome and the less likely it will be that we or anyone else will find them.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t think I can take things around here much longer anyway. We’ve been silently biding our time, until a reason to make a move presented itself. If what you say is true, we have our reason. Now, you two get changed and then follow me. Angela, I’ve got this, you go on back to bed.”
Giving her father a hug, Angela did as he asked, leaving Jack, T. R. and Jessie alone in the kitchen. As Jessie and T. R. began to change clothes, Jack saw Jessie’s Colt Single Action Army hanging from the paracord rope around Jessie’s neck.
“Are you tryin’ to be sneaky or something? Hiding that thing like that?” he asked.
“No, sir,” Jessie replied. “I just didn’t want to lose my only remaining family heirloom in the river.”
“Can’t say I blame you there,” Jack replied.
Once the men had changed into dry clothes, Jack returned to the kitchen, and said, “Okay. Now, I can’t believe I’m gonna let you go down to where I’m about to take you, but we need to be able to keep this little slumber party discreet. I guess what I’m trying to say is, I won’t be double-crossed. You, sir,” he said looking at Jessie, “I don’t know you from Adam, and T. R., well, I’ve got plenty reasons not to put a damn bit of faith in what you say. It hurt me bad when you teamed up with the bastard that’s keeping the rest of us down. I don’t care if it seemed like your only option at the time. I’ll never forget the side you chose to take. So both of you, forgive me if I’m less than the perfect host. And keep in mind, my continued willingness to be a host is based on whether or not what you say pans out to be the truth. If not, well, we’ll go from there.”
Turning to walk down the hall, he said, “Now, follow me and try to be quiet. Angela has to get up in the morning to go to work, and if you wake Tyke, he’ll keep her up all night.”
“What kind of dog is Tyke?” Jessie asked. “All I’ve had in the past are livestock guardian dogs, so I’m not familiar with the smaller breeds.”
“He’s a miniature schnauzer, and like I said, he’s basically family to her. I’ll treat things that way if anything happens to him.”
Following Jack down a narrow set of stairs that were behind what seemed like a closet door, Jessie noticed old family portraits of a woman and a young boy along with Jack and Angela spanning what appeared to be the entirety of what would have been Angela’s childhood, hanging on the wall, descending with the stairs. He could only assume that it was Jack’s wife and a brother of Angela’s, but didn’t want to ask, given the tension in their presence. Knowing all too well the pain of such a loss, if that were to be the case, Jessie understood Jack’s lack of trust and fierce attit
ude in regards to protecting his family. Thinking back to the Walkers’ arrival to his homestead after his family had died, Jessie recalled that he had behaved with exactly the same kind of distrust and resentment of others.
Reaching the basement, Jessie appreciated the rustic style of decor. Old, rough-cut wooden planks lined the walls. The furniture was of the homemade variety, using large sections of tree trunks as well as branches with some of the bark still remaining to create a very natural and outdoorsy feel to the room. The light fixture hanging from the ceiling in the middle of the room was even decorated with deer antlers, something Jessie himself would have done.
As Jessie stood and admired the room, Jack interrupted his thoughts, saying, “Back here is where you’re staying,” as he opened a door that was cleverly hidden among the natural gaps between the planks on the wall. No knob or lock was evident to Jessie. It seemed as if Jack merely put his fingers into the wall and made a door simply appear out of nowhere.
“Nice,” Jessie said, admiring Jack’s handiwork.
“No one but Angela and I know about this, so, well... it had better stay that way,” Jack said, his reluctance being apparent.
Following Jack into the room, Jessie looked around to see that the far wall contained heavy-duty, industrial shelving stocked with long-term food storage of various types, as well as two large gun safes along the adjacent, block wall. Several sets of body armor hung from the wall, as well as a decorative display of martial arts swords and other weapons of the craft.
“Impressive,” Jessie said.
“I guess you could say Burt Gummer from the movie Tremors was my hero,” Jack replied. “The guns and ammo are all safely locked away, so I don’t have to worry about you getting into that. The other stuff, well, I guess I don’t have to worry about that. You’ve got your own weapons. Plus, if you thought you could take me out with a sword, I’d welcome the attempt. I’m a little rusty and could use the practice.”
With a crooked smile, Jessie said, “No... I don’t think I will be taking you up on that offer.”
“You can sleep here for the night. I’ll be back down in the morning. There is a toilet behind that door if you need it,” he said, pointing to the wall opposite the gun safes and weapons. “Other than that, stay put. If I find you creeping around my home in the middle of the night, I’ll assume the worst. Stay here until I come for you. Is that understood?”
“Yes, sir,” Jessie replied with T. R. nodding in agreement.
“Good. The sun will be up soon so you’d better hit the sack. Who knows what kind of day tomorrow will be with all things considered. I feel like a ball has been set into motion that simply can’t be stopped. I’ve kinda had that feeling for the past few days.” Shaking himself out of his own thoughts, Jack said, “Well, goodnight,” as he turned and left the room, closing the hidden door behind him.
Chapter Nineteen
Waking to the sounds of several men’s voices in the next room, Leina sat up quickly, her heart racing, unsure of where she was and what had happened. Quickly looking around, trying to piece the situation together, she found herself undressed and in a large king-sized bed, alone. Rolling over while throwing the covers to the side, she felt her right leg yank to a stop, finding herself attached to the bed by what seemed to be a set of stainless-steel, law-enforcement-style ankle restraints, similar to handcuffs, but with longer chains. With one end of the restraints locked securely around her ankle, and the other attached to the sturdy wooden frame of the bed, a mix of emotions rushed through her body.
That son-of-a-bitch, she thought as she had clearly been victimized by Chief Peronne and his men. Her anger quickly turned to heartache and dismay, as she realized that if this was the outcome of her dealings with Chief Peronne, the odds of the children being returned to her were slim to none.
“I’m gonna kill him. I’m gonna kill him. I’m gonna kill that dirty son-of-a-bitch if it’s the last thing I do,” she mumbled through a clenched jaw and gritted teeth.
Her head still swirling from the after-effects of what she could only assume was some sort of drug-induced state, she looked around the room to see her clothes piled in a corner against the far wall and out of her reach. Raising her left leg, she prepared to kick the footboard of the bed in an attempt to break the wood and free herself. She stopped short, though, thinking to herself, No, they’ll hear me. They’re just outside the door. I’ve got to think this through. I’ve got to be smart about this.
Laying her head back down on the pillow, she looked at the ceiling, closed her eyes, and began to cry as she thought of the children, whom she now doubted she would ever see again. Thoughts of Kayla, Patricia, and Gavin, raced through her head as a dark, painful sadness began to set in. She now knew that it was Peronne and his men that ambushed their group, killing all but her and the children. Her memories, clouded by drugs and the blow to her head, started to come back into the forefront of her mind.
As she lay there, tortured by her thoughts, the door to the room opened slowly. Her heart began to race, not knowing what would come next. In walked the elderly Hispanic woman called Rosa, who had brought her freshly laundered clothes to the room where she had first been kept. Pulling the covers over her naked body, Leina watched as Rosa quickly walked over to the dresser, placing some of what she assumed was Peronne’s clothing into a drawer.
Attempting to avoid making eye contact with Leina, Rosa turned and walked back toward the door. “Wait,” Leina murmured. “Don’t go. Please,” she begged.
Stopping, Rosa turned to look at her with a tear in her eye. “I’m sorry. I can’t help you,” Rosa said in a defeated tone.
“Please, don’t leave me here like this. You know what they are doing to me, and what they will do. Please help me.”
“I can’t,” Rosa replied, looking at the floor in shame.
“These men, they killed my friends. They took my children. I need to get out of here. I need to find my children. You’ve got to understand.”
As tears ran down her face, Rosa walked over to Peronne’s wine bar and took something in her hand. Walking over to Leina, she placed a corkscrew on the bed beside her, and quickly turned, running out of the room.
Taking the corkscrew, Leina hid it beneath the covers and closed her eyes, saying a silent prayer for the strength she knew she would need to make it out of her ordeal. Please, Lord, please help me find a way out of here. Please help me to find the children. I’ve lost everything to this awful world. My husband Cas, my friends, my children, and now my freedom. Help me, give me the strength...
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps walking toward the door. Hearing a brief, muffled conversation, she heard a set of footsteps walking away from the room, while the door slowly creaked open. Closing her eyes, pretending to be asleep, Leina listened to what sounded like a man’s footsteps, walking slowly across the room to the bed.
Feeling the covers being pulled back, exposing her naked body, she trembled inside as she fought the instinct to react. Feeling a man’s hand on her bare breast, she could wait no longer. Leina swung her right hand across her body, opening her eyes to see Officer Barnes standing over her as the corkscrew plunged into his neck.
Grasping the hand that he had placed on her breast with her left, she held him in place while she stabbed him repeatedly in the neck. Blood sprayed all over her, the coils of the corkscrew tearing chunks of flesh free with each violent thrust.
Looking directly into his eyes, seeing sheer terror on his face as his free hand fumbled for his gun, she said, “Enjoy your time in Hell, you son-of-a-bitch,” as she plunged the corkscrew into the temple of his head, killing him instantly.
His lifeless body collapsing on top of her, the bed becoming soaked with blood, she struggled to reach his belt. Removing his handcuff key, she shoved his body aside, freeing her from his smothering weight. Sitting up and quickly while releasing her restraints, she crawled off the bed and stripped him of his duty belt containing his holstere
d pistol and spare magazines.
Still naked and now covered with blood, Leina pulled open a drawer containing what she assumed were Chief Peronne’s undershirts. Using them as towels, she wiped off as much of Barnes’s blood as she could and began looking around for something to wear. Pulling out drawer after drawer and dumping the contents onto the floor, Leina found a drawer containing sweat pants and workout clothing. Quickly donning both the pants and hooded sweatshirt of a jogging-style suit, she fastened the duty belt around her waist, pulling it to the tightest possible notch, and drew the 9mm Glock from the holster. Checking the action, verifying that a round was in the chamber and that the magazine was fully seated, she tiptoed over to the door, listening for any signs of another officer on the other side.
Running across the room to the west-facing window, she looked outside to see that she was on the second floor, and beneath her was a stone patio. Knowing that jumping from that distance would almost certainly cause a serious injury, especially while barefoot, she slipped back across the room, listening once again for sounds on the other side of the door.
Hearing nothing, she opened the door quietly and looked down the hallway, seeing no one present. Slipping down the hall toward the stairs, she could hear footsteps walking across the old wooden floor downstairs, its creaks giving away the person’s position.
Moving silently down the stairway, she could see an officer in the main parlor area of the house, sitting on the sofa with his feet up on the coffee table. With the stairs running down behind the sofa and with the officer’s back to her, Leina carefully snuck across the floor behind him and into the kitchen of the home.
