Society Lost- The Complete Series

by Steven Bird

  As silence fell over the airwaves, Jessie begrudgingly began to work his way westerly along the bank of the canal. All he could think about was her safety, and how he knew the world would be a better place with someone like Leina in it, rather than himself. He could see something special in her, and he knew her usefulness to mankind had yet to be fulfilled. To him, it was a worthy trade to make, and if he was going to die, at least it would be with purpose.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  As Peronne as his men gathered on the southwest end of Fort Sumner, just shy of the Pecos River like Jessie had instructed, Peronne nodded to the officer who had been assigned the task of escorting Leina out of town to bring her out of the running SUV. “I want him to be able to see her,” Peronne said. “I want to lure that bastard out here so we can end this.”

  Shouting at him in response, Leina screamed aloud, “The only thing that’s gonna come to an end is your reign of terror, you filthy son-of-a-bitch!”

  Raising his hand to strike her to silence her, the officer stopped short as Peronne shouted, “No! He’s probably watching. Maintain your bearing, at least for now.”

  “Yes, Chief,” the man replied.

  Looking at his watch, Peronne mumbled to the man beside him, “Why is this bastard making me wait all day?”

  “He’s probably stalling like a coward,” the man replied.

  “Are you stupid?” Peronne asked rhetorically. “Have you been blind to everything going on around you? That man is no coward. He’s a menace to our situation here, but he’s no coward.”

  Simply nodding in agreement, the man went back to scanning the area with his binoculars in search of any sign of the man they knew only as the Shepherd.

  As beads of sweat rolled down Peronne’s forehead under the sun as it had passed the high noon position and was now traveling toward the western horizon, Peronne began to become impatient and irritated. “Come on. Come on! Show yourself!” he shouted.

  All of his men were starting to show signs of weariness and fatigue from the stress and events of the past several days. Peronne could feel his once iron grip of control beginning to loosen over his men. Peronne himself had bags under his eyes from the sleepless nights Jessie and Leina’s rampage had caused him.

  As Peronne began to curse under his breath, the radio silence was broken as Jessie’s voice came over the radio at exactly four hours to the minute from when his demands were made.

  Hand her the radio. I need to verify if you are holding up to your end of the deal. Just keep your mouth shut and give her a radio.

  Nodding to the officer next to Leina, the man handed her the radio from his own duty belt, saying with a devious smile, “Your boyfriend wants to hear your voice. You must be good.”

  One of the other officers present, who had taken several shifts guarding her when she was drugged and unconscious, spoke up and said, “Oh, she is. I can attest to that.”

  Biting her tongue, attempting to hold her rage inside, Leina took the radio, and said, “Jessie?”

  Yeah, it’s me. Are you okay?

  “I’m fine, but you can’t do this. You can’t. You know what you have to do.”

  “That’ll be enough of that!” Peronne shouted. “Just answer him that you are okay, and we are holding up our end of the bargain and nothing more, or we will kill you right here for him to see.”

  Putting the radio back up to her mouth, she said, “They told me that one man would escort me out of town with a full tank of gas, and that once you showed yourself to them, they would let me go.”

  Is it full? The tank, that is?

  “Yes, they showed me,” she answered.

  Does it look like a trap for you, or do you think you’ll be able to be on your way?

  “Everything looks like a trap these days and probably is. But there is gas in the car, that’s all I know for sure. Just don’t do it, please!”

  Taking the radio from her, the officer nodded to Peronne as Peronne began to speak to Jessie “Okay, you talked to her. You verified that I’m holding up my end of the deal, now show yourself.”

  Not until she is safely away from town, remember?

  Waving them away, the officer put Leina in the driver’s seat of the vehicle while he held his pistol to her head, and said, “Okay, drive. Go straight down the road exactly one half mile on the odometer, and stop. When you do, put the vehicle in park, and wait.”

  Complying with his demands, Leina placed the transmission of the Chevrolet Suburban SUV into gear and began driving. Crossing the river, she looked into the rearview mirror as the town of Fort Sumner and Peronne’s men got further and further away. She hadn’t been outside of the borders of town since she was first ambushed. Her emotions were bittersweet. She desperately wanted to press the accelerator to the floor and speed away, never looking back, but she also wanted to stand and fight with Jessie, even if it cost her own life.

  “That’s far enough,” the officer in the vehicle said. Still holding the gun on her, he ordered, “Put the transmission in park and shut off the engine.”

  Doing as he had instructed, the officer then said, “Don’t try anything; we can still reach you from here. Understand?”

  Replying with only a nod, Leina sat perfectly still in the vehicle while the man exited. He kept his pistol on her with his right hand while he held his radio in his left, awaiting Peronne’s further instructions.

  Peronne picked up his radio, and said, “Okay, ‘Jessie,’ I believe she said it is. Show yourself and we’ll let her go. That’s the deal.”

  After a brief moment of silence, one of Peronne’s men said, “There! There he is!” as he pointed to the north as Jessie appeared from behind an old, rusty, metal building. “He’s alone.”

  Verifying what the man had said with binoculars, Peronne said over the radio, “Drop your weapon.”

  As they watched Jessie raise his radio to his mouth from a distance, they heard through their speakers:

  Tell the officer with Leina to toss his gun onto the seat of the SUV and tell her to drive away. Then, and only then, I’ll drop my weapon.

  With anger in his voice, Peronne keyed the mic and said, “I’m not going to disarm one of my men with you standing there armed, posing a threat.”

  Do it. That’s the last thing I’m going to say, Jessie said as he visibly tossed the radio to the side, out of his own reach, ending the conversation.

  Shouting over the radio, Peronne said, “Damn it! Give the bitch your fucking gun and start walking!”

  Reluctantly doing as he was ordered, the man tossed his pistol onto the passenger seat of the vehicle, and before closing the door, he said, “We’ll see you soon, bitch,” as he turned away from her and began walking back toward town.

  Her heart conflicted, Leina looked over to the gun in the seat next to her, pressed the accelerator, and began to drive away as tears streamed down her face.

  Knowing that Jessie no longer held his radio, Peronne screamed as loudly as he could with a voice full of rage and authority, “Now drop your fucking gun!”

  As he watched Leina drive away, a trail of dust following her onto Highway 60, Jessie tossed his AR15 to the side and began the long and dreaded walk toward Peronne and his men.

  A devious smile grew over Peronne’s face as a man standing to his side asked, “Do you want the sharpshooter to take him, sir?”

  “No!” Peronne insisted. “We’re going to have fun with this. Why end it too soon? Don’t worry, you’ll each get your turn.”

  “Should I send the others to get the woman yet?” the man then asked.

  “No, let him get a little closer. After they bring her back, we’ll let him watch for a while as you each take your turn with her.”

  As Jessie neared Peronne’s position, his men began to form a circle around him, slowly and steadily closing in.

  “So nice of you to join us on this lovely day. Now, put your hands on top of your head and drop to your knees,” Peronne demanded.

  Doin
g as he was ordered, Jessie lowered himself to the ground, one knee at a time, with a look of total defeat on his face.

  With a satisfied smile on his face, Peronne nodded to one of the men behind Jessie, signaling him to approach him from behind, while he leaned over the man next to him, saying, “Now, send your boys to go get the bitch and bring her back.”

  Looking at Peronne with rage and contempt, Jessie shouted, “You dirty son-of-a-bitch!”

  Laughing aloud, Peronne said, “What? You said it yourself, my word isn’t worth the spit that flies out of my mouth when I speak it, or something to that effect. You should have known better.”

  Interrupting Peronne’s victorious moment, the man said, “Uh... Chief.”

  “What? What is it?” barked Peronne.

  “She’s coming back.”

  “They got her already? Damn, that was fast.”

  “No, sir. She’s driving back herself and at a pretty high rate of speed.”

  With Peronne and all of his men turning their attention to the trail of dust following the rapidly approaching SUV, Peronne shouted, “Kill the bitch!”

  As the officers opened fire, Jessie dove to his right shoulder and rolled onto his back, drawing his old Colt Peacemaker from a concealed position underneath his clothing. Quickly cocking the hammer of the old single-action revolver, he fired a shot, striking the man approaching him from behind directly in the forehead, the projectile smashing through the back of his skull.

  As gunfire erupted all around him, Jessie expected to be struck with the burning impact of a bullet at any minute, only to realize that Peronne’s men were dropping like flies around him, returning fire in all directions.

  Quickly looking around, trying to make sense of what he was seeing with his own eyes, Jessie saw several of the townspeople firing from hidden positions all around. His heart nearly erupted with emotion as the good people of Fort Sumner were standing up to Peronne and his men. At this point, Jessie didn’t care if he lived or died. This moment alone had made his life well-lived.

  Snapping back to reality, Jessie saw Peronne run for one of the SUVs and peel away with the tires spinning wildly, throwing dirt and rocks as he fled.

  Sprinting toward one of the remaining vehicles, Jessie dodged a poorly aimed, panicked shot made by one of Peronne’s men, and returned fire, striking the man directly in the chest, dropping him to the ground.

  Jumping into the vehicle, Jessie threw the SUV into gear and sped off in pursuit of Peronne, chasing the trail of dust he had left in his wake.

  “Fucking coward!” Jessie shouted aloud as he drove like a mad man.

  Speeding down Sumner Avenue at over one hundred miles per hour, Peronne barely slowed down enough to take the sharp turn onto 17th Street, sliding the SUV completely sideways and nearly losing control.

  Making a well-controlled turn, Jessie was able to gain a little ground on Peronne, who was still far ahead of him.

  Realizing where Peronne was heading, Jessie said to himself, “The airport! He’s making a run for the airport!”

  Speeding out of town on 17th Street, Peronne jerked the vehicle violently to the right, exiting the pavement, crashing through the airport’s perimeter fence, speeding onto and across a taxiway, and then onto Runway 3, accelerating to well beyond one hundred miles per hour.

  Following suit, Jessie nearly lost control as his SUV hit a large dip in the terrain, bouncing him, without a seatbelt, head first into the ceiling of the vehicle.

  Regaining control and focus, Jessie maintained his pursuit, following Peronne onto the runway, accelerating to the SUV’s maximum speed in an attempt to regain lost ground.

  Smoke bellowed from Peronne’s tires as he applied maximum braking pressure and yanked the vehicle off the runway, heading toward the general aviation hangars.

  Maintaining his pressure on Peronne, Jessie slid his SUV sideways in an attempt to make the last minute turn. The vehicle slid off the pavement and into the dirt and grass, losing control, and nearly rolling the SUV on its top as it spun around wildly. Catching traction mid-slide, the tires were side loaded, skipping across the ground, coming to rest on all four wheels, facing the wrong direction, causing Jessie to lose valuable ground on Peronne.

  Resuming his chase, Jessie saw Peronne’s SUV in front of a large aircraft hangar, noticing that the hangar doors had been opened just enough for a man to slip through. Knowing he stood too great a chance of walking directly into an ambush, Jessie opted to park along the side of the building in order to enter the building from one of the side doors.

  Stepping out of the vehicle, Jessie realized that in his haste to pursue Peronne, he had set out with nothing more than his Colt tucked into his waistband. “Damn it,” he whispered to himself as he flipped the loading gate open and replaced the spent cartridge with a fresh one from his pocket.

  Opening the door with his left hand, holding his Colt in his right, Jessie entered the hangar and listened carefully for any signs of activity. Slipping quietly through an abandoned aircraft avionics maintenance work center, Jessie looked out into the main hangar area, seeing several light GA aircraft, such as a Piper Seneca, a Beechcraft Baron, and a Cessna Skylane.

  Those airplanes aren’t abandoned, Jessie though, noticing the well-maintained and dust-free condition of the aircraft inside the hangar. Hearing a metallic thud from a wrench being knocked off a counter and bouncing off of the hard, concrete floor of the hangar, Jessie spun around just in time to see Peronne take aim with a twelve-gauge police issue shotgun.

  Quickly diving behind a large maintenance cart, containing a hydraulic servicing unit, Jessie narrowly avoided being hit by the buckshot as it penetrated the hydraulic reservoir, spilling gallons and gallons of slippery, purple Skydrol hydraulic fluid onto the hangar floor.

  Racking another round into the chamber of the Remington 870 pump-action shotgun, Peronne fired another shot blindly, keeping Jessie pinned down behind the metal cart while he ran across the back of the hangar and out the rear fire exit.

  Leaving his position of cover, Jessie ran to the fire exit, and dashed out into the area behind the hangar, looking both ways, but seeing no sign of Peronne. Damn it, 50/50 chance... left or right? he quickly thought as he decided to run around the hangar to the left, in hopes of catching sight of Peronne before he was once again fired upon.

  Reaching the west-facing outside wall of the hangar, Jessie heard a diesel generator fire up, followed immediately by the large electrically actuated doors on the front of the hangar beginning to open. Running on around the large structure to reach the main hangar doors, Jessie caught a glimpse of Peronne as he stood on the wing of the Beechcraft Baron and fired several volleys of buckshot at Jessie, forcing him to dive back behind the side of the building to seek cover.

  Hearing both engines of the Baron cough and belch themselves to life as the propellers began to spin, Jessie rounded the corner, cocked the hammer and fired at the cockpit. Cocking the hammer and firing a second shot, Jessie saw a bright flash of muzzle blast as well as the accompanying crack of the shotgun’s powerful muzzle report as Peronne fired the shotgun with one hand out the co-pilot side-entry door as he began taxiing the aircraft with his feet and free hand at the controls.

  Speeding out of the hangar, wildly swerving the aircraft to the left and taxiing under what was near takeoff power, Peronne headed for the runway while Jessie fired the last remaining shots from his revolver, seemingly having no impact on the aircraft as it sped away.

  Catching movement out of the corner of his eye, Jessie saw one of Peronne’s SUVs rapidly approaching from across the airport, following the trail of destruction that Jessie and Peronne had left during their vehicular pursuit.

  Crap! Jessie thought as he began to retreat toward the hangar while he simultaneously flipped open the loading gate on his pistol, ejecting the spent shell casings as he ran, in preparation to reload. Stopping just short of the hangar, Jessie saw a woman behind the wheel of the vehicle. “Leina!” he shouted
as she came to a stop. To his surprise, he saw Angela exiting the vehicle from the passenger-side door, both of the women rushing toward Jessie.

  Pointing at the escaping aircraft, Jessie shouted, “That’s him! That’s Peronne!

  Turning back toward the SUV, Jessie watched as Angela pulled out her long-range precision rifle and ran as fast as she could, to get into a position to fire. As the aircraft reached takeoff speed and rotated into the air, Leina knelt down in front of Angela, who placed the barrel of her rifle onto Leina’s shoulder to steady her shots while Leina covered her ears, took aim, and fired at the departing aircraft. Cycling the bolt, chambering another round, Angela fired again, and again, until her five-round box magazine was empty.

  As the three of them watched Peronne fly away, the aircraft slowly began to list to the left, entering a left-wing-low turn, spiraling down to the ground. The aircraft was completely destroyed on impact, bursting into flames, with its wing-tanks full of volatile and highly flammable Avgas.

  Jessie walked over to the two women, hugged them both, and then the three of them stood there and silently watched as Chief Peronne’s wreckage burned into nothing more than a smoldering heap of twisted aluminum and ashes.

  After several moments of silence, Jessie turned to Angela and Leina, and asked, “How? What?” as he tried to figure out how the two of them had joined forces to follow him in the pursuit.

  Leina spoke up, saying, “I just couldn’t drive away and leave you there to die. It would have haunted me for the rest of my life. I would have rather died, right there with you. By the time I got back, chaos had erupted as Angela here, and several other townspeople had begun to engage Peronne’s men. She knew who I was. Evidently, everyone did. Anyway, we watched your trail of dust as you chased Peronne out of town, so we decided to follow.”

  Turning back to view the smoldering wreckage, Jessie said, “Thank God you did. Thank God you did...”