“Shut the fuck up!” he shouted just before he kicked my ribs. I cringed, coughing, unable to cry out in pain. He laughed a bit. “Ain’t nothin’ personal, Logan. We all do what we got to. To get to where we want to be in life. Thing is, you were about to get in the way of that… And we couldn’t be havin’ that. Understand? You’re a smart guy.” Ratliff then kicked me again. “Now that… That was personal! You fucking bastard! Trying to show me up!”
“Stop fucking around!” shouted the other guy.
“Calm down, Wilson. Just having some fun,” replied Ratliff.
“Tie him up.”
“Won’t that look suspicious?” asked Ratliff.
“No matter. We’ll be the ones who fish him out eventually anyways. If we do fish him out. I mean, this reservoir is pretty deep.”
“Good point,” said Ratliff, chuckling.
I was shaking. My rage was only rivaled by my pain. “I’ll… I’ll fucking kill you all.”
“Sure you will,” replied Ratliff. “Goin’ to be difficult from the deep.”
Ratliff picked me up and propped me against the side of my car. I looked around while he wrapped the rope around my upper body and tied it. “Shit,” I mumbled. I was on Flannagan Dam. Bastards were going to push me in no doubt.
“Get up!” shouted Ratliff as he pulled me to my feet. He shoved me into my car and slammed the door.
I watched through my windows as the two hooked a wench to the front of my car. The wench was attached to a rollback truck that was obviously used to transport me. The hum of the wench entered my ears while I felt my car being drug up onto the rollback. I kept thinking this was it. This was how I was going out. Not down in flames or any other magnificent glory filled death. Just a watery grave labeled as a drunk driving accident or some other bullshit.
“Unhook him,” called out Wilson.
I heard the clang of the wench smacking the roll-back. Looking out my window, I could only see the dark descent that was imminent. Almost immediately, I felt my car start to tilt as the bed of the truck raised. “Fuck fuck fuck…” I rapidly repeated. My foot slammed on the brake pedal but it wasn’t enough. The tires began to slide as the bed rose higher. My baby slid off and it was the familiar feeling of free fall once more. I took a deep breath as the crash of water around me shattered my cracked windows and poured in. The car was full almost instantly. What little bit of light there was faded as I sank into the abyss. I watched the blinking red light on my dash from the vehicles anti-theft system finally give out. My lungs started burning with my held breath. I glanced over to my window, much of the glass still lining it. There really was no choice. I started slamming my head into the glass. With each slam, the glass cut my face, but finally, it busted loose. I wriggled out of the window and started kicking with all my might for the surface. My breath finally escaped me with water replacing it. I could see the slight shimmer of light on the surface just as my head emerged.
I coughed and gagged, struggling to replace the water with air. My whole body throbbed and ached. The nearest shore was a hundred yards or so away. Without my arms, that was going to be a tough swim. It felt like an eternity, but I kicked my way to shore. I collapsed on the tall weeds, surrounded by bushes and other shrubs. The sound of my deep breaths only accompanied by chirping crickets. After a few moments, I collected myself. The thin rope was soaked and obviously old. I scooted myself against a nearby rock with a jagged edge and started scraping the rope across it. After a few minutes, I felt a freeing snap. I pulled myself out of the rope and stumbled to my feet. It hurt to move my left arm, something had to be broken. It hurt to stand up straight, probably a cracked or broken collarbone. My head throbbed and felt light. Undoubtedly a concussion. By all accounts, I should have been dead… Looking back, I did die that night.
August 20th, 2025
Lightning wildly lit the sky just before thunder cracked. I looked up, not a star in sight as stray raindrops began to strike my face. What did it matter if it rained? I was already soaked. My left arm was pulled tightly against my chest. Every step was punishment. My head ached and stung with the caress of wind. My neck was becoming stiff. Hell, it even hurt to keep my eyes open while I wandered my way through the weeds to the road.
Finally, I came to the boat landing area. I took a seat at one of the picnic tables. The rain picked up and crashed down on me. With a flash of lightning, my gaze settled on the reservoir. My racing thoughts finally focused for a moment. “Those bastards destroyed my car…” my thoughts kept repeating. I know, sounds silly. But that car was more to me than just a car. It was my pride and joy… The one earthly possession I cared about. “I’ll kill them both,” I lowly grumbled. With those words; a renewed vigor came over me. My boots pounded away at the pavement, carrying me towards Haysi, Virginia.
With each step, my thoughts dwelled on killing Ratliff and Wilson. I couldn’t even put a face on Wilson but I’d find him and kill him. Then I stopped. My instincts kicked in despite my rage. I remembered that I was leaving the agency building when this happened. The place is completely covered and monitored with CCTV. Not to mention the commotion of a vehicle being T-boned against the concrete walls. The ASA should have responded promptly and taken care of them, but they didn’t. That’s when it clicked. The incomplete files and half-assed investigations. Those along with Angel’s botched investigation… The Grundy ASA was corrupt and hiding something. Then I wondered how deep it went. No agency could go rogue like that. Everything is overseen and reviewed by ASA command in Washington. I knew I had stumbled into a world of shit. A world of shit that would stomp out anything trying to clean it up.
“Shey… Sara…” I mumbled. I limped into the fastest run I could muster. It hurt to breathe. My body ached and begged for relief with each step. I knew if they had tried to kill me, there was a good chance they’d eliminate Shey and Sara as well. My phone was somewhere at the bottom of Flannagan. I was miles from the nearest store. It felt as if my body was going further and further beyond its limits as I continued. I didn’t know if I’d make it, or if I’d give out part way there… But I had to try.
I was exhausted. It felt like I had been limping forever on a road that had no end. The rain was getting heavier and the wind more violent. The sound of an engine entered my ears. Looking back, I saw the dim headlights of an old pick-up truck closing in. “Should I hide?” I thought. Then I realized that there was nothing more to lose. If I hid, I ran the risk of not making it anywhere, passing out and probably dying. If I didn’t hide, maybe they’d stop and offer some help. Maybe it was someone on the ASA’s payroll and they’d put a bullet in me. Maybe they’d just drive by and not give a shit. I stood there in the light, raising my right hand hoping they’d stop. The truck pulled up and stopped next to me. I could vaguely see the driver motioning for me to get in. I hopped in, the dim cab light revealing the aging interior of the truck. Probably a late eighty’s or early ninety’s ford. I looked over to the old man, much of his face shrouded by a silver beard. He had on a trucker hat that had the name of some old mining company on it. “Thank you,” I said.
He looked me over and immediately reached behind his seat and pulled some red shop towels out and handed them to me. “What in the world happened to you, son?”
I grasped the shop towels with my right hand and wiped away the water and blood from my face. “Accident,” I replied.
“Now, you youngins might not think much of an old-timer like me. But I reckon I know when someone’s full’o shit or skirtin’ the truth.”
The man’s type was all too familiar to me. His truck, the denim he wore. He put me in mind of my Dad. I wouldn’t be able to lie to this guy. “Sorry,” I replied, holding the towels on my head wound. “I can’t tell you everything. You were kind enough to stop and knowing may put you in danger—”
“Now come off with it,” he interrupted. “Your face is all cut up and you’re banged up mighty good.” The man paused for a moment. “You ain’t no troublemaker, are you?
Seems like you already got enough trouble to be makin’ more.”
“No, Sir,” I replied. “No troublemaker.”
The man shifted the truck into gear and pulled out. “I believe you. You don’t look like those good’fer nothin’ drug heads ‘round here.”
“No, Sir, never touched them all my life.”
“Glad to hear it, son.” The man continued driving along the winding road. “Now, I ain’t no fool. I reckon someone did this to you.” I slowly nodded my head. The man sighed as he downshifted while entering a turn. “Ain’t no good in that, not at all. Looks to me like you’re lucky to be alive.”
“I am.”
“Now what did you do to someone to have them try to put you six feet under?”
“I was trying to do the right thing.”
“There you go bein’ all secretive and hidin’ stuff again—” The man entered an abrupt pause. “Names Ricky, what’s yours?”
“Thomas,” I replied.
“Glad to meet you, Thomas.”
“You as well.”
We started descending the mountain towards Haysi. The roar of the engine in low gear sounded almost harmonious to me. It was easily distinguishable as a V8. Ricky glanced over at me. “Need me to take you to the hospital? You’re in pretty rough shape, son.”
“That’s not necessary. You wouldn’t happen to have a cell phone would you?”
Ricky chuckled. “Ain’t got no use for one of those fancy gadgets. I reckon the Shell station at the foot of town still has a pay phone. If not, I’m sure they’d let you use the phone inside.”
“That’d be great. Thanks.”
“You ain’t from ‘round here, are you? Judgin’ by the way you talk.”
“Born and raised here, actually. I just never really came back after the war.”
“You went to China, did you?” I nodded to Ricky. He let out another sigh. “I wish my boy had went. He might not have made it back, but a death like that would’ve been a mercy compared to what happened.”
“What happened, if I may ask?”
“He got strung out. Ruined his life. Lost his job, his wife, his friends. I tried to help him but those pills just had their claws in too deep. Ended up overdosin’. ASA found him dead a few days after. They ‘spost to be keepin’ us all safe. Keepin’ drugs out of the hands of innocents but they ain’t. They ain’t doing shit, I tell you what.”
I remained quiet for a few moments. “The ASA doesn’t seem to be doing much of anything they’re supposed to. What agency responded?”
“Dickenson County, assisted by Grundy,” replied Ricky.
That told me everything. It wasn’t just Grundy that was rogue. Many agencies were. Pieces started falling into place. The high-end vehicles, Ratliff’s truck… They were making money on the side. Probably through illegal activities but I couldn’t say what for sure. “Grundy,” I mumbled. “Doesn’t surprise me.”
“They ain’t—” Ricky paused for a moment, slowly nodding his head. “You got the look of an agent about you now that I come to think of it. A look like they used to have back when I was young about thirty years ago or so. Don’t you worry, I didn’t see nothin’ and I didn’t pick you up, no sir.”
“Thank you.”
“I know what you’re going to do and I know the look in your eye. Ain’t no use in tryin’ to talk you out of it. I won’t even try, but I’ll ask you to do one thing for me.”
“Name it,” I replied, looking over at him.
“You put a bullet in whoever did this. Maybe then the wife and I could rest easy over our son.”
“I will.”
We came into Haysi, it was literally a one-horse town with only one road going through the center. The bronze street lights lit the quiet street well with no souls stirring other than us. I glanced at the dash of Ricky’s truck, seeing that the clock didn’t work. “What time is it?”
Ricky glanced down at the watch on his arm. “It’s about three in the mornin’.”
“Shit,” I mumbled.
“Been out a while, have you?”
“Before all this, it was something past four yesterday.”
“Must’ve knocked you for a good one.” Ricky sighed, turning into the gas station. “Sorry that happened to you.”
“It’s alright.” I pulled the latch on the door and pushed it open. When I turned to exit the truck, I groaned and winced in pain. “Fuck…”
“You stay put,” said Ricky. “I’ll go in for you. You’re needin’ a phone and what else?”
I struggled to dig my soaked wallet out of my pants. I flipped it open, the ASA badge gleaming in the station lights. I pulled out a fifty dollar bill, the only cash I had on me. “A pack of Marlboros, a lighter, bottle of water, and the biggest bottle of ibuprofen they have.”
Ricky took the money and nodded. “I’ll be right back, you just try to relax.”
I nodded and laid my head back. I was still soaked and I still hurt like hell. I glanced around looking for anyone else in the station parking lot. No one was around, thankfully. I closed my eyes and nodded off. I woke a few moments later to Ricky tapping me on the shoulder. It hurt, but I did my best to keep from showing any signs that he had hurt me. I looked down to see the pack of smokes already opened for me. I grabbed one and stuck it in my mouth. Ricky struck the lighter and lit it for me as I took a draw. “Reckon, that’ll calm your nerves,” he said.
I nodded my head to see him reaching me an old cordless phone. I grabbed it and dialed Shey’s number. No answer. Probably didn’t recognize the number so I tried once more. “Hello,” answered Shey.
“Shey,” I said.
“Oh my god, Uncle Tommy! Where are you? Are you alright?”
I could hear Sara in the background. “It's Tommy? What’s wrong? Is he okay?”
“I’m no worse for wear. I’ll explain everything but I need you to come get me.”
“Sure, we’re in Richlands. Sara couldn’t get ahold of you when her flight landed and you weren’t there. She called me and I couldn’t get ahold of you either, so I went and got her. I’ve called the Agency and basically anybody I could think of looking for you! Where are you?”
“Haysi.”
“At least you’re okay,” replied Shey, relieved. “Should I call the agency and tell them that I found you?”
“No. Don’t do that. Don’t speak to anyone,” I firmly answered.
“Uncle Tommy, what’s going on?”
“I said I’ll explain later.” I looked at Ricky. “Can you take me to the top of Lover’s Gap?”
“Ain’t no trouble,” replied Ricky.
“Shey, come to the wide spot on top of Lover’s Gap… And tell Sara I’m sorry for breaking my promise to be there.”
“I’m sure she don’t care,” replied Shey. “She’s just glad you're okay like I am.”
“Be careful, we’re on our way.”
“Wait, Sara wants to talk to you.”
“Tommy, are you okay?” asked Sara.
“I’m alright. Are you okay?”
“I’m just worried sick about you. What happened?”
“I’ll tell you both soon. Be careful, I have to go.”
I hung up the phone and reached it to Ricky. “Thank you.”
“Let me take this back inside and we’ll get you across the way.”
Ricky entered the station. I took a final draw from the cigarette, tossing the butt out the window and promptly lit another. Ricky returned and twisted the top off the bottle of water. He reached it to me, then opened the ibuprofen. “Take these, they’re only two-hundred milligrams so here’s four. Might take some of the sting out.”
I put the tablets into my mouth and chugged down half of the water. “Thank you.”
“No need to be thankin’ me.”
Ricky started his old truck and pulled out. The sound of the old engine was wonderful to me, almost like a lullaby. I laid my head back, starting to nod in and out of sleep.
“Keep them eyes o
pen, now,” loudly spoke Ricky. “I ain’t no doctor or nothin’ but I reckon you need to stay awake after a bump that big on your head.”
I raised my head up and lit another cigarette. “Thanks, you’re right.”
“You’re Tommy Logan, aren’t you?”
I turned my head to Ricky before returning my gaze back to the road. “I am.”
“I remember readin’ bout you some years ago after the war. A decorated war hero from right here in our own backyard.”
“That’s right,” I said, chuckling despite the pain it caused.
“Shame what happened to your sister. Read about her the other day… I reckon that’s why you came back, ain’t it?” I nodded to Ricky. He shook his head. “Then I guess someone didn’t want you snoopin’ around.”
“I think that might be it,” I replied, taking another draw.
“Then I reckon there really isn’t any talkin’ you out of this.” Ricky glanced over for a moment. “A word of advice from an old-timer?”
I turned my head to Ricky. “Sure thing.”
“Whatever it is you’re plannin’ to do, whether it be to go kill’em or whatnot, but it’s goin’ to have some far reachin’ consequences and I couldn’t help but overhear them ladies on the phone—”
A Tommy Logan Story Page 11
