New River Breeze

by Ed Robinson

  Brody was headed out to the porch one day when the shooting began. The glass in the door shattered and she went down. Our attacker was down by the creek, spraying automatic weapons fire into the cabin. When I got to her, I found a hole in her chest that was sucking air. I knew that to be very bad. I ripped off my shirt and wadded it up over the wound. The shooting stopped, and I heard the man running up the hill towards the back of the house, his boots crunching on the gravel driveway. I put Brody’s hand on the shirt and pressed it down.

  “Hold this tight,” I said.

  Her eyes were far away, but she was still breathing.

  “Know how much I love you,” I said, kissing her on the forehead.

  If I stayed there with her, I’d be dead within a few minutes. My survival instinct took over. I grabbed a pistol out of the bedroom and scrambled up the stairs to the loft. Bullets blasted through the glass in the back door, which was at ground level. I got down on the floor and pointed my weapon between the wooden rail banisters, waiting for the shooter to appear. Red woke from his nap and trotted to the kitchen to see what was going on. If I called him, I’d give away my position. I heard the back door open, and Red started growling at the intruder. He was shot down instantly.

  Everything that I loved was being taken from me right before my eyes. I’d felt fear before, and somehow always managed to keep my cool. The fear fought with my rage over what I had witnessed. I tried desperately to remain calm, and keep my aim steady. I saw the barrel of a rifle first, and then the shooter himself. I maintained a steady aim as I pulled off five shots, directed at the man’s chest. He dropped to the floor, his weapon clattering on the hardwood. I stayed where I was, watching his body for a minute. I was prepared to fire again at the slightest twitch. He was less than twenty feet away, and all my rounds had hit him.

  Finally, I climbed down, keeping an eye on him. I gave a quick glance at Brody and didn’t like what I saw. Red’s blood was pooling on the kitchen floor. I stood over the man, pointing my gun at him. Then I saw the vest. Did my bullets penetrate it? He opened his eyes and looked up at me. I shot him in the forehead. He would never look at anything again. I didn’t know who he was, and I didn’t care. I only cared that he was dead.

  Brody was gone by the time I returned to her. I worked on her like an army field medic, but it was fruitless. I prayed for a miracle, but it didn’t come. I cursed the very God that I had just prayed to. I sat on the floor with my head in my hands, trying to comprehend what had just happened. I couldn’t think. I knew that I needed to call the police, though. Instead of dialing 911, I called Rominger.

  “Shooter came to the house,” I told him. “He killed Brody. I killed him. Red’s dead too. Send in the troops, but there’s no hurry. No one left alive but me.”

  “Jesus Christ, Breeze,” he said. “Are you hurt? Do you need an ambulance?”

  “Hurts like hell, man,” I said. “But not from bullets. Just get here as fast as you can.”

  “On my way,” he said. “Hang in there.”

  I threw my phone through the open back door into the driveway. I picked up Brody’s phone and took it outside too. I proceeded to smash them both into tiny bits. I carried our computer out back and shot it until I was out of bullets. I went back to Brody and sat with her until the first cop car showed up. An officer I didn’t know came in with his weapon drawn. I put my hands up.

  “I’m not armed,” I said. “My weapon is there on the counter. It’s empty.”

  He holstered his gun and took a look around.

  “You Breeze?” he asked. “Are you hurt?”

  “I’m not wounded,” I said. “Can I get up?”

  “Try not to touch anything,” he said. “We’ll get the detectives up here shortly.”

  “I’m going to go outside,” I announced.

  “You’re going to have to sit in my car until we get some more people on scene,” he said. “Sorry, procedure.”

  He led me by the arm to the back seat of his patrol car. He shut the door after I sat down. I knew I couldn’t open that door, and it gave me claustrophobia. I started to sweat, and I couldn’t unclench my teeth. Both of my fists were balled up as tight as they could get. I tried to loosen them, but they kept closing tight again. Rominger arrived and rescued me. I walked him through the scene and explained how it all went down. He wouldn’t let me move Brody or Red until the detectives got a look.

  They showed up and asked a hundred questions and took a hundred pictures. The only question I couldn’t answer was who the guy was. Rominger and I told them about my beef with Cody Banner, and how I had killed him. We also discussed the former Banner Elk Police Chief. The shooter could have been a friend or relative of either. I knew but didn’t discuss the fact that he could have come from Florida, or been hired by someone from my past. Either way, my location was known. I’d never be safe here. I knew I was going to have to leave.

  One of them tilted the shooter on his side. The back of his skull had been blown to bits. There was a jagged hole in the floorboard where my .40 caliber bullet had lodged. They extracted it and placed it in an evidence bag. An ambulance pulled up, and his body was hauled out. I lifted Red from the floor and carried him to the back yard. A second ambulance came for Brody. I stood in the driveway trembling as they wheeled her out. I stopped them and went to her side. I pulled the sheet down from her face, kissing her one last time.

  “I’m sorry, baby,” I whispered to her. “I’m so sorry.”

  They loaded her in the ambulance and drove away. Rominger stood in front of me with his head down.

  “I don’t know what to say, brother,” he said. “You can come stay at our place if you want.”

  “I don’t think so,” I said. “I’ve got a lot of work to do here.”

  “I can get a crew here to clean up,” he said.

  “That would be great,” I said. “Not sure I can do it.”

  “I’m on it,” he said. “Anything else you need, just ask.”

  He pulled out his phone to make a call. I went to the garage and got a shovel. I worked at digging a hole for Red for an hour. I hit solid rock three feet down. I got his favorite blanket and wrapped him up before gently placing him in the hole. After he was covered, I carried rocks from the edge of the creek and covered his grave. I couldn’t have any predators digging him up. I worked like a soulless robot, trying not to replay the day’s events in my mind. The cleaning crew arrived, and I showed them what they needed to do.

  My closest neighbor came by to find out what had happened. We’d purchased the cabin from him. He was the one who’d built it. He offered to get the windows replaced the next day. I accepted.

  “What are you going to do?” he asked.

  “I don’t know,” I said. “You want to buy a cabin?”

  “We could probably come to some agreement,” he said.

  “I’ll let you know.”

  Eventually, everyone left and I was alone. I had orders not to leave town, but no one was keeping tabs on me. The blood and gore had been erased, and the broken glass had been swept up. Thin plastic had been taped where glass used to be. It was deadly quiet, except for the ever-present hum of the creek. I stood in the middle of the cabin and let the tears come. The complete realization that Brody was gone forever hit me so hard that I thought I’d collapse. In one day, it had all come to an end. Life in the mountains had turned on us in an instant, leaving nothing but death.

  Suddenly I hated that cabin. There was nothing left in it for me. I couldn’t stay there that night. I grabbed some water and left, passing by Red’s grave and up the hill to the woods. I walked long and hard until I reached the plateau. I watched the sun go down over Banner Elk, completely alone in the world. I spent the night in Pop’s cave, lying in the dark mourning my loss. No image of the old man came to offer me wisdom. I had no dreams that gave me hope. I’d never been more alone.

  Nineteen

  In the morning I hiked quickly back down the mountain. I went to the neigh
bor’s place with my bank account information in hand. He offered me something less than what I had paid for the cabin, but I didn’t care. I took it and asked him to wire the money to my account. He said the glass company would be there later in the day. I suggested that the bill would be his, as it would soon be his house. He produced a power of attorney which I signed.

  I drove into town and stopped in the local funeral home. It was Brody’s desire to be cremated. She wanted her ashes poured over a waterfall that was close to our home. It was her favorite spot in the mountains. We’d been there several times in the course of our missions, but she liked to return on our free time. She would just sit and watch. It was a peaceful place.

  “Can you or someone take her ashes there and fulfill her final wishes?” I asked.

  “That’s generally left up to the family,” he said.

  “She didn’t have any family, except me, and I can’t stick around,” I said. “I’ve got my reasons. I’ll give you five hundred extra to make sure it’s done right.”

  “I’m sure something can be arranged.”

  I went back to the cabin and started packing. The first thing I did was round up all of our weapons and put them in the car. The second thing I collected was all of the cash that we had stashed in various hidey holes throughout the house. I put it in a pillowcase and stuffed it into my backpack. I put some clothes and toiletries in a separate bag. I still had room in the car, but there was nothing else I wanted or needed.

  I walked through the cabin one last time, swatting away memories that threatened to make me cry again. As I looked out over the creek, I remembered my fishing rod. I found it and added it to the small load in the car. Before getting into the driver’s seat, I stood in the driveway and took one last look around.

  Adios, High Country. Breeze is in the wind.

  Author’s Thoughts

  I posted a poll on Facebook concerning the future of Breeze. 75% of respondents voted for him to return to Florida to live on a boat. I couldn’t rationalize Brody accepting that. Many of you will be disappointed in her death, but it was time for our hero to return to his roots. I hope you will follow along as our hero regains his original grittiness and becomes more removed from the everyday events of modern society. RIP Brody and Red.

  Ed Pennington and Jessie Lynn were named after readers who asked to be a character in one of my books. Both characters are completely fictional. If you would like for me to use your name in a future book, feel free to contact me at kimandedrobinson@gmail.com.

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  The Brown Mountain Lights are a real phenomenon. They’ve been seen hundreds of times over the years but there is still no scientific consensus as to what causes them.

  There really is a statue of the Moon-eyed People in the Cherokee North Carolina History Museum.

  Other Books in the Mountain Breeze Series

  Banner Elk Breeze

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  Blue Ridge Breeze

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  Beech Mountain Breeze

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  High Country Breeze

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  Trawler Trash Series

  Trawler Trash; Confessions of a Boat Bum

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  Following Breeze

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  Free Breeze

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  Redeeming Breeze

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  Bahama Breeze

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  Cool Breeze

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  True Breeze

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  Ominous Breeze

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  Restless Breeze

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  Enduring Breeze

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  Benevolent Breeze

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  Non-fiction Books by Ed Robinson

  Leap of Faith; Quit Your Job and Live on a Boat

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  Poop, Booze, and Bikinis

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  The Untold Story of Kim

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  Acknowledgements

  Proofreaders:

  Jeanene Olson

  Dave Calhoun

  Laura Spink

  Editor:

  John Corbin

  Cover Design:

  https://ebooklaunch.com/

  Interior Formatting:

  https://ebooklaunch.com/