by Steven Bird
“There, you’ll find a stone on the ground that may seem a bit out of place. Dig there. You’ll have to dig at least two feet down, and maybe a bit more. If the cut is on the north side of the tree, do the same thing, but head north.
“The reason for that, is I didn’t want markings on the tree to mark the spot like a child’s treasure map. I wanted whoever figures it all out someday to have to at least work a little bit for the answer,” he said with a smile. “And maybe it all seems silly to you, and maybe I was just bored, trying to pretend like I was smart or something, but I’ll betcha those bastards didn’t find my caches.”
“Boredom has helped many a man accomplish a lot of things,” Jessie said.
“I reckon so,” Isaac agreed. Continuing, he added, “The reason I’m giving you this info now, is that if I don’t make it that far, I want you to be able to find what you need to get the job done and get Shauna and those children out of the hands of those sons of God-less bitches. You promise me that,” he urged, reaching out his hand to Jessie.
“I promise,” Jessie vowed, shaking Isaac’s hand.
“Now, help me up and let’s get on with things.”
Chapter Twenty-One
The Cellar
Waking to the putrid smell of human waste, Tina sat up and lit a candle to illuminate the cool, dark cellar. “Frank,” she said quietly, in an attempt to wake him from his nap.
“What is it?” he replied.
“I think the litter box needs to be changed,” she said, referring to their makeshift restroom facilities.
Sitting up, Frank replied, “I don’t think it’s wise to go outside just yet. We need to wait until Jessie returns.”
“And what if he doesn’t?” Paul asked from his cot.
Turning to Paul, Tina apologized, “Sorry to wake you, Paul.”
“I wasn’t asleep. I’ve got too much stuff going round and round in my head right now to sleep. One of which is what our next step should be if we are forced to take it alone.”
“He’ll be back,” Tina insisted.
Sitting up on his cot and feeling dizzy for a moment, Paul collected himself before saying, “The only thing we know for certain, is we don’t know anything for certain.”
“I’ll go dump the can and scout things out,” Frank said.
Lighting a candle and illuminating his face, Paul warned, “I don’t think we should go out unless we’re ready to abandon ship.”
“Abandon ship?” Frank questioned.
“Yeah. As in ‘giving up the cellar’. If anyone is spotted going in or out, this place is lost to us and so are those left inside. There’s nowhere to run if you’re trapped in here. I don’t think we should plan on dumping the can until we are ready to move on from here, if it should come to that. Let’s compromise and give Jessie a little more time to make it back.”
“I thought you were the one saying he may not come back?” Tina argued.
“I didn’t say he wasn’t coming back,” clarified Paul. “I merely said, nothing is for certain. We need to have our own plans in place, should he not return. While we wait, we need to gather supplies we can easily carry, and be ready to strike out on foot at a moment’s notice.”
“Well, at least put another garbage bag over that horrendous thing to try and contain the smell,” Tina grumbled, agreeing with Paul for now.
~~~~
On foot in the woods
Approaching a small farmhouse on the north side of County Road 2, Isaac turned to Jessie and said, “This is it. This is where I’m hoping we can negotiate our way into a few good horses.”
“So, you’re friends?”
“Not at all. This is Eugene Brock’s farm. I think he’s an ass, and he probably looks at me the same way. We’ve never really gotten along. Many moons ago before Margaret and I were married, he had eyes for her, and I won.
“Well, the truth is, he was actually dating her when I came along. Even though he married the love of his life a few years later, he’s never really gotten over it. It’s more a matter of pride, I guess. Some men can’t get over something like that. They feel robbed, even if it turns out they didn’t really want what was taken from them.
“That’s the problem with a town this size. If you can even call it a town. You just can’t get away from people who hold grudges against you.”
“What do you plan on paying him with?” Jessie asked.
“His life,” Isaac replied.
“Wait, what?”
“I’m not gonna threaten him. I’m merely gonna point out how things will work out for him in the long run, if the situation isn’t dealt with here and now. But if he gets me thinkin’ too much about the odds of getting Shauna and the kids back without his horses, yeah, I might shoot him.”
Pausing for Jessie to react, Isaac interrupted and added, “I’m josh’n ya. Sort of.”
“Take my Colt,” Jessie offered, attempting to hand him the pistol.
“No. There’s no need for it. You might need it.”
“Then how do you plan on shooting him?”
With a smile, Isaac said, “I told you, I was josh’n ya.”
“Yeah, and you also said, ‘sort of’,” Jessie responded with a grin.
Patting Jessie on the shoulder, Isaac nodded and said, “You wait here. Wait for me to signal. If I call you up, come on up. If I’m cut down, just move on and do what you can for the others. Don’t engage them and risk yourself.”
“I’d feel better if…”
“I don’t care how you feel,” Isaac interrupted. “If I go down, you need to be able to press on. Shauna and the kids are the priority, not your allegiance to me.”
“Yes, sir,” Jessie confirmed with a nod.
“Can you walk that far on your own?”
“Anyone can do anything. They’ve just got to take the first step to get there.”
Remaining in the woods while he watched Isaac limp through the pain of his beatings toward the home, Jessie scanned the area for threats. I can at least provide him with overwatch, he thought.
Inspecting the AKM rifle he had retrieved from Isaac’s now-deceased guard, Jessie saw that it was Romanian WASR-10. They’re crude, but reliable. It looks to be fairly straight, he thought, as he looked through the sights to see if the front sight post was canted. It’ll do.
Jessie thumbed the mag release and rocked the magazine free. Pushing down on the top cartridge with his thumb, he ascertained the thirty-round magazine was indeed filled to capacity. Checking the extra magazine carried in his cargo pocket, he determined that it too was fully loaded.
Pulling back on the charging handle, he saw the chamber was clear. Really, dude? You didn’t keep one in the pipe?
Quickly field stripping the rifle, Jessie removed the top cover, bolt-carrier-group, and recoil spring. He looked down the barrel of the rifle and was horrified at its condition.
“This damn thing is filthy,” he mumbled aloud.
Watching Isaac working his way across the field toward the house, Jessie was reminded of his potential immediate need for the weapon and quickly reassembled it, saying, “Oh, well. It’ll shoot. That’s what AKs do best.”
Replacing the magazine and then cycling a round into the chamber, Jessie settled in behind a tree, so he could closely watch what was going on in the distance before him.
When Isaac approached the old, one-story farmhouse, he saw a curtain move to the side from the window to the left of the front door. He noticed the well-worn white paint was flaking from the home’s wood siding, and the lawn had been almost completely taken over by weeds. A blade of grass ain’t got a chance around here.
Although the upkeep seemed to have been neglected, he did notice the flower beds had been converted to mini vegetable gardens. Hmm, that’s smart. You don’t have to walk as far to get a tomato if they’re growing on the front porch.
“That’s far enough!” a grizzled old voice shouted from within the home.
“Eugene. Is that you?” Isaac c
alled back.
“Who the hell else would it be? Have you come to steal this wife, too? I hear tell you may be in need of another.”
Ignoring Eugene’s attempt at an insult, Isaac yelled, “Eugene, we need to talk.”
“I ain’t got nothin’ to say to you.”
“You might not think you do, but you do,” Isaac replied. “Now, put down whatever gun you’re pointing at me, and let’s talk. I’m unarmed.”
“Are you alone?”
“No, but he’s watching from a distance, and his instructions are to only approach the home if I signal. You can count on that to be honored.”
“Honor? What the hell do you know about honor?”
“Eugene, cut it out. Let’s talk. There are bigger issues at hand than our past, and you damn well know it.”
After a momentary pause, the man inside the home growled, “Alright. Come on toward the door. But if you try to pull anything, I’ll spill your guts on the floor with a twelve-gauge slug.”
“I understand, but trust me, you won’t have to waste a shell on me today,” Isaac assured him as he limped toward the home.
Once he’d approached the door, it swung open to reveal a tall, lanky man with sunken cheeks and pale skin. “Damn, Eugene, you’re look’n rough,” Isaac said before he entered the home.
“So that’s how you repay my courtesy? By leading off with an insult?” the man grumbled with spit flying from his lip. “Besides, you’re not look’n so good, yourself.”
“You’re right about that,” Isaac said, placing his hand on the back of a chair to steady himself.
Hearing the door close behind him, Isaac turned to see Eugene’s wife, Sarah. “Good evening, ma’am,” he said with a nod.
“Pay him no mind,” mumbled Eugene, as he pointed toward the kitchen table. “Sit your ass down before you fall over. You look like you can barely walk.”
When Isaac took a seat, Sarah asked, “Would you like a glass of water?”
“I said to pay him no mind!” barked Eugene.
“That’s just rude!” she retorted with a furrowed brow.
In a grateful tone, Isaac sheepishly replied, “If it’s okay with Eugene, I could really use a glass, ma’am.”
Nodding his approval to her, Eugene cut straight to the point and said, “Now, what’s this we need to discuss?”
“I take it you’re not eating very well these days,” Isaac said, referring to Eugene’s physical condition.
“We get by.”
“I’m sure you do, but I wonder if you might get by better if you weren’t… um… paying taxes.”
Giving him a scowl, Eugene said, “What goes on here is no business of yours!”
“That, unfortunately, isn’t true,” Isaac said matter-of-factly. “The McCullough bunch found me hidden away in the hills, so I know they’ve already been knocking on your door. And now, they’ve teamed up with the Hofstadters.”
“Teamed up? What?” Eugene interrupted.
“I guess that means it’s the McCulloughs who’ve been shaking you down.”
“That’s old news,” Eugene scoffed. “Those bastards keep asking for more, too.”
“And it’ll only get worse,” assured Isaac. “Anyway, yes, the McCullough clan and the Hofstadters have joined forces. We found out the hard way. They were gonna kill me for my horses, but my friend outside prevented that. That, of course, didn’t sit well with them. You know, that whole ‘fighting for my own survival’ thing? It was insulting to them somehow. Recently, they were hitting the Williams place pretty hard, taking more and more, just as you said they’re doing to you.”
“Well, that old bastard Archie Williams has plenty to give!” replied Eugene.
“He’s given all he can,” Isaac said in a cold, even tone.
After a brief moment of the two men exchanging stares, Isaac said, “Yes, he’s dead. So is Mrs. Williams, Billy Williams, and others. The house has also been burned to the ground.”
“Well… I’ll be damned,” Eugene said, and he contemplated what Isaac had just relayed.
“Yes, you will be damned,” Isaac insisted, as he took a glass of water from Sarah. “They’ll eventually use us all up.”
“What does any of this have to do with you and me?” Eugene asked.
Taking a deep breath, Isaac said, “What I hadn’t gotten to yet, is that they took a woman and two children when they took down the Williams’ place. What kind of man could just let that go unanswered?”
“A man who stays alive, that’s who!” insisted Eugene.
“A man who would turn his back on a woman and her children, leaving them to some sort-of twisted, hellish fate in the hands of those inbred heathens, isn’t a man at all. At that point, he’s dead inside, and he knows it.
“What sort of life will you or anyone else have, knowing they allowed such a thing to go unanswered? And one of the main points you’re not getting, is they aren’t done with you yet, Eugene! They’ve found bigger fish to fry, but that doesn’t mean they won’t be beating down your door again before long. They’re like a plague of locusts, devouring every resource around until every last thing of use or value is gone.”
“What do you want from me!?” shouted Eugene, pounding his fist on the table and knocking over Isaac’s glass of water, causing it to roll off the table and shatter on the floor.
Looking him directly in the eye, Isaac assured him, “Don’t worry. I don’t expect you to put yourself in any danger, if that’s what you’re worried about. I just need a few horses, so those of us who will gladly do so, can have a fighting chance, giving that woman and her children a fighting chance!”
“Damn it! If I give you horses to go after them, they’ll come after me. They’ll kill me, take Sarah, and destroy everything we have! It would be suicide!”
Standing, Isaac looked down at Eugene and said, “You, sir, are already dead. You just don’t realize it yet. You’ve already given yourself over to them. You just won’t admit it, even to yourself.”
Tipping his head to Sarah, Isaac said softly, “I’m sorry for the disturbance, ma’am.”
Turning to leave the home, Isaac heard Eugene’s chair push back from the table, followed by the words, “Wait! Wait just a minute, damn it!”
Stopping, Isaac turned to see Eugene standing tall.
“We’ve got four horses left.”
“I thought you had at least ten,” Isaac queried.
Through gritted teeth, Eugene snarled, “Taxes.”
“Of course.”
“Look. Just leave the bay mare for Sarah and me to get the hell out of here on. Take the other three. If what you seek to do works in your favor, I’d appreciate it if you returned them when you can. If not, well, God bless you for trying.”
“Get the hell out of here?” Isaac queried. “What do you mean?”
“Sarah is all I have left in this world,” Eugene explained. “I ain’t got enough good days left in me to take on much of a fight. I hate the thought of running away… but…”
Reaching out his hand, Isaac said, “You don’t have to explain yourself. And thank you, Gene.”
Returning the handshake, Eugene added, “Leave the black saddle, saddlebags, and the matching bridle. You can take the others. Take anything else you need. I imagine my barn will be burned to the ground before long, anyway.”
“Let’s hope not,” Isaac said with a nod.
“Yeah, let’s hope not.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
The Brock Farm
While Jessie watched through the trees, he saw Isaac shake hands with the man of the house and then turn, walking behind the home toward the barn.
C’mon, Isaac. Where’s the signal? he thought, assuming he would’ve been called up by now.
After what seemed to be fifteen or twenty minutes, Isaac rounded the corner of the home mounted atop a buckskin gelding, with a palomino and a line-back dun in tow. Each horse wore a saddle and bridle, along with saddlebags.
Ridin
g up to Jessie, Isaac grinned, “Well, how’d I do?”
“I’d say that’s more than I expected, for sure. But how come you didn’t signal for me. I could have helped you tack them up.”
“I thought about that. Then I thought about how safe I felt, having you provide overwatch from a hidden position, so I just went with it. I’d rather have spent a few extra minutes tacking them up by myself, than to have the McCulloughs roll up on us unannounced.”
“I guess I can’t argue with that,” replied Jessie. “Which one’s mine?”
“Take your pick,” Isaac said, offering the reins of both horses to him.
“I’ll go with the dun,” Jessie announced, taking the reins. “He reminds me of ol’ Hank. That, and dun is a more natural color to blend in with the terrain than a palomino.”
“Ol’ Hank. I hope him and Mack are making out okay. One can only assume the McCulloughs took them after taking control of the home.”
“Yeah, I try not to think about it. I was just beginning to like that ornery cuss.”
Smiling, Isaac agreed, “I knew you two were a good fit. They say horses pick their people, but I’ve always felt like a matchmaker of horse and horseman. Some people see flaws in a horse’s behavior. They say the horse is ‘disrespectful’ or some other stupid thing when they project human emotions and behavioral patterns on an animal that has the instincts of a prey animal. But I think you’ve got to see the horse’s reactions as a little bit of conditioning, combined with a little bit of personality.
“Kind of like you,” he added, looking Jessie in the eye. “Much of your behavior is due to your conditioning as a sheriff, a husband, a father, and now, a survivor. I can see all those things in you. I knew Hank would see them, too.”
Before Jessie could respond, Isaac urged his buckskin quarter horse forward with his heels, and said, “C’mon boy… Hell, I don’t even know your name. I guess I’ll call you Buck. C’mon, Buck.”
