She couldn’t.
Chapter 36
The Valley
Around dark, the sheriff went out to his Tahoe. His wife was settling their children into bed in a strange house that did not feel home. They’d already settled his mother in for the night. It was not an easy thing to do. Without the availability of home medical supplies they had to improvise everything. They were out of adult diapers and absorbent pads for the bed. They couldn’t get any kind of disposable wipes for cleaning her. They’d even been out of soap until they’d moved to the valley and Jim had been able to set them up with some, although he hadn’t said where it came from. The folks in the valley obviously had some resources that they were keeping tight-lipped about.
He climbed into the vehicle and turned on the radio. He selected the standard sheriff’s department frequency which he knew those guys would all be monitoring. He’d tried to come up with an inspiring speech but had been unable to find the words. He was just going to wing it.
“This is Unit One, Sheriff Scott,” he said into the microphone. He added his name just to make sure they knew he was the real Unit One, the man who had given them their orders until recently. He waited a moment but there was no response. He didn’t really expect one.
He keyed the mike again. “This is Unit One addressing the former law enforcement officers sheltering at the superstore. I want to speak to you about the tragedy that took place today. This department has not lost a man in the line of duty in over sixty-five years. Today we lost two, although I am forced to question what duty Deputy Browning was performing when he shot Deputy Deel. The attack was unprovoked and resulted in myself and several other men having to return fire. Deputy Browning was killed in that exchange.”
The sheriff paused, waiting to see if there was any response. None came. The sheriff knew that Ford and Jim were listening. Beyond that, he didn’t know if anyone heard his words or not.
“I’m not questioning why you men made the decisions you did. Everyone has had to make hard decisions to try to protect their families. I will, however, question the integrity of any man who attacks another law enforcement officer for the purpose of stealing resources. I will question any man who loots from the citizens of this county to try to better their own situation. If that’s what you’re doing, you no longer deserve the badge and I won’t recognize you as law enforcement. If you do still consider yourself a servant of the public, I ask you to recall the meaning of your oath.”
The sheriff stopped, took a deep breath, and continued. “Although I’m not saying that you have to leave the compound you established to keep your families safe, you cannot continue bullying the folks of the county. You cannot steal resources under the authority of the president’s executive order when you are giving nothing back to the people in return.”
The sheriff released the mike button and sat there in the dark evening. The radio crackled.
“Nice speech,” Barnes replied. “We no longer recognize your authority. It’s clear that you’ve simply moved to a better spot and seized the same resource we were after. That’s not an appropriate action for a public servant either.”
“I moved into this valley to help protect these folks,” the sheriff said. “They were concerned about an attack from rogue law enforcement officers. They invited us in.”
“And there’s nothing in it for you?” Barnes asked.
“They offered to help my family,” the sheriff replied. “We need the help.”
“You’re going to need help,” Barnes said. “We’re coming into that valley. If we find this tanker we’ve heard about, we’re taking it. If anyone gets in the way, we’ll kill them. That includes you.”
The sheriff let Barnes finish, then began to address his former deputies directly. “Any of you listening, you don’t have to be part of this. I do not question you trying to help your families but if you declare war on citizens of this county, there’s no coming back from that.”
“No one here is interested in what you have to say,” Barnes replied. “Save your breath.”
The sheriff felt his blood pressure rising. “You may think I’m nothing more than a politician, Barnes, but I didn’t keep this office for twenty years by hiding behind a desk. If I was you, I’d watch my ass.”
The sheriff slammed the microphone onto the dashboard and cursed. In truth, he was kind of becoming a politician these days. The job turned you into one whether you liked it not. There were always meetings to go to and budgets to deal with. He hadn’t always been this way. In the early days, he’d knocked heads together when it needed to be done. He’d turned his back a few times on what may have technically been crimes but served the greater justice. Under his polished veneer was a redneck farm boy. That boy was about to come out.
The sheriff went inside and told his wife he’d be back shortly. He confirmed she had her weapon and that it was accessible, then he drove to Jim’s house. Jim and Ford were still standing in the dark outside Jim’s house talking. After he turned into the driveway, the sheriff killed his lights and drove in using the park lights to avoid ruining the men’s night vision.
He piled out of his truck and ambled over to the Jim and Ford. “Guess you all heard that?”
The men mumbled assents.
“So much for appealing to their sense of duty,” the sheriff said. “I don’t know if anyone besides Barnes heard a damn thing I said.”
“This shit makes me a little edgy,” Ford said. “You say you got men on lookout?”
“I’ve got my friend Lloyd up there in Pete’s outpost,” Jim said. “He ain’t much use sometimes but he can keep a lookout. I’ve got him set up with a cheap night vision monocular. It will at least let him see a little bit. I’ve got another guy with a thermal scope watching one end of the valley and a guy with a night vision scope watching the other. It’s not perfect but it’s about the best we can do.”
“And you said you blew up both roads in?” Ford confirmed.
“Yep,” Jim said.
“That’s a felony,” the sheriff said. “We’ll let it pass under the circumstances.”
“There’s still a lot of ways in,” Jim said. “Men on foot have unlimited options. I just got lucky last night because the dumbasses came in riding machines with headlights.”
“We can’t defend an open, accessible location like this,” the sheriff said. “We need an advantage.”
“We definitely need something,” Ford agreed.
Jim looked at Ford, really not much more than an outline in the moonlight. “If you leave your radio with me I could try to talk to Hugh. Maybe I could get him to give me some information. We used to be kind of tight. Is there a frequency I can use that he might be monitoring but none of the other cops would be listening in on?”
“You could switch over the state police frequency or even one of the frequencies used by the adjoining counties. I can show you how to change it on the radio. Those are all stations that the other group could pick up but it’s unlikely they’d be using them. Even so, you’ve got to be discreet until you know he’s the only one listening. You don’t want to put him at risk,” the sheriff said.
“I agree,” Jim replied.
“Well, I’m going home,” the sheriff said. “If you need me, I’m assuming someone will come get me or something.”
“We’ll set you up with one of our radios tomorrow,” Jim said. “They’re nothing fancy, just family band radios, but they do the job. That’s how we all keep in touch. I would recommend keeping a gun handy.”
Ford and the sheriff departed, leaving Jim standing in his dark driveway. He now had Ford’s handheld radio. He didn’t know anything about radios but it was less than two miles to the superstore as the crow flew. Maybe he could get through.
Jim raised the radio to his lips, took a deep breath, and hit the transmit button. “This message is for Hugh. If you’re listening, please don’t react. Just key your mike twice and I’ll continue.” Jim let up off the button and waited.
&nb
sp; Nothing.
“Come in, Hugh. If you’re listening, we need to talk. Do not draw attention to our conversation. Do not react. Just key your mike twice so I know you’re listening.”
When there was no response after several minutes, Jim set the radio down on the hood none too gently and raked his fingers through his hair. He was getting stressed out, which led to him making bad decisions. He didn’t know where it went from here except that it was bound to get worse. Then there was a burst of static on the radio and two pronounced clicks.
Jim grabbed up the radio. “Hugh?”
Two clicks.
“Is this secure? Is anyone on your end listening?”
No clicks.
“Can you talk?” Jim asked.
“Yes,” came the hushed reply. “Who the fuck is this?”
Jim smiled. He knew that voice. It was Hugh for certain. Jim could imagine him there huddled in the glow of radio LEDs, headphones clamped down over his boonie hat. It was exactly how he remembered him looking as he worked the control board at the radio station.
“Think back to your first job. It was mine too. We traded issues of Soldier of Fortune magazine.”
“I think I know who this is,” Hugh replied.
“Don’t use my name,” Jim insisted. “I used to have a magazine that we laughed over quite a bit. It suggested that winos had a particular purpose after the collapse. Do you remember what it was?”
Jim waited. If the man on the other end responded correctly, it was definitely Hugh.
There was a chuckle. “It suggested that winos would make good jerky because they were already marinated.”
Jim sighed with relief. It was his old friend for certain.
“Now tell me, what the hell are you doing on my radio?”
“I’m one of the people you all are trying to kill,” Jim said.
“Repeat that.”
“The people you’re working for seem to think I have something they want,” Jim said. “They came for us the other night but we turned them away. Things are escalating.”
“No shit,” Hugh said. “They’re pissed because you killed one of their men.”
“He fired first,” Jim said. “He killed a deputy.”
“I’m not sure it matters who fired first,” Hugh replied.
There was a dead air for a moment as Jim thought about what to say. “Do you know if they’re coming tonight?”
Silence.
“Hugh?”
“You’re putting me in a position,” Hugh replied.
“I completely understand that,” Jim said. “I’m in a position too. My entire family is in danger. My friends and neighbors are in danger.”
“I don’t think they’re coming tonight,” Hugh said. “Everyone is out in the parking lot. They have a bonfire made of pallets and they’re just hanging out.”
“Can you let me know if you hear anything?” Jim asked.
“No promises,” Hugh said. “But I’ll try. For old time’s sake.”
“Thank you,” Jim said.
“I have to go.”
“Is this a good frequency if I need to reach you again?” Jim asked.
There was no response.
Chapter 37
Alice
Alice and her son traveled across the broad farms at that end of the county. They passed large herds of cattle and pushed through dense hardwood forests. They avoided public roads, except to cross them when forced to. Alice carried bolt cutters on her saddle and cut fences when they stood in their way.
It was not a neighborly way to conduct oneself, but Alice was losing touch with the nuances of how people conducted themselves. She did not care about the people whose lands they crossed. She thought nothing of their troubles and situations. She did not care if their cattle wandered off through the openings she left. Her only concern was anyone might try to prevent their passage. She was ready for that. If they tried, she would kill them without argument or discussion.
At a place called Raccoon Branch they found a dead child in a weedy ditch. Charlie was in the lead and thought the thin, pale limbs belonged to a baby doll. A comment on the lost toy was already forming in his mouth when it went sour with the realization that the figure was indeed a dead child.
“MOM!” he cried, his voice rich with fear.
She nudged her horse and was at his side in a moment. She regarded the body without comment.
“It’s a little girl,” Charlie said, his voice almost a plea. He needed to hear something from his mother. As mature as he’d become over the last few weeks, there were times he needed reassurance. Having spent most of his time on the isolated farm, he hadn’t seen as much of the world as she had and needed that reassurance now more than ever.
“Let’s go,” Alice said, jostling past him and continuing on her way.
Charlie stared at the body for a while longer, feeling like he should do something but not sure what to do. When he saw his mother putting distance between them, he trotted on, pulling his packhorses along.
“Mom,” he called after her, “shouldn’t we try to find her family and tell them? Somebody has to be worried about her. Somebody is missing her.”
Alice said nothing and she did not stop. She wore sunglasses against the light of midday and her eyes were hidden. He could see nothing of what was going on inside her head. She was a total blank, a mystery.
“We could at least bury her,” he mumbled.
Alice stopped her horse and sat it for a moment. She looked at her son. “That girl is nothing to us. We have our own problems. The world took that girl. Her problems are over. What’s left behind back there is of no use to anyone. It doesn’t matter if you bury it or leave it for the coyotes.”
Charlie scowled. He couldn’t take any more of his mother’s attitude.
“What happened to you!” he yelled. “You used to care about people. Everyone always talked about what a nice person you were and how you helped the people at your office. You’re not nice anymore and you don’t care about anything.”
Charlie made a clicking sound and nudged his horse forward. In a moment, Alice was at his side.
“I care about you,” she said. Her voice was flat and emotionless, as if she were choosing between two mediocre and unappealing items on a menu.
“I’m not so sure, Mom,” he said. “Do you really care or are you just trying to care? I get the feeling all the time that you’re trying to care but you can’t make yourself do it.”
Alice thought about that. She wasn’t sure she knew how to answer such an accusation, especially when it held so much truth. A year ago, she would have lied to Charlie to make him happy, because sometimes you had to lie to your children to protect them. Now, she couldn’t make herself lie. She couldn’t protect his emotions.
“I’m trying,” she said. She opened her mouth to say more, to offer justification or explanation, but she could find no way to soften it.
“You never had to try before,” Charlie said. “It was just the way things were.”
“Things happened on the road, son,” she said. “Things I can never tell you about. It changed me. I feel like a shell sometimes. It made me different.”
“No shit!” he yelled.
She could tell he was angry now but she was so emotionally blunted that she didn’t understand it. Nor did she know how to fix it.
“I know I love you,” she said. “It may not seem like it and I may not be good at showing it anymore, but that never changed. It’s why I didn’t give up when every part of me wanted to lie down on the road home and die.”
Charlie was riding ahead of her at this point. Only five feet separated them. She knew he heard her even if he was choosing not to respond. The coming hours would be silent between them. The five feet between them would swell into a vast emotional chasm that neither would ever make it back across.
Ever.
Chapter 38
Randi
In the early morning, fog lingered in the wooded furrows of coa
l country. It was always late in the day before the sun got high enough to penetrate the narrow valleys and burn off the moisture. Randi crouched in the wet grass at the edge of the Cross family’s yard. Not realizing that her late brother had used the same trick to distract the Cross dogs, Randi had brought food. It was the universal language of dogs and single men. She used chunks of stew meat to pacify the scrawny beasts, quickly becoming their new best friend.
Buddy was hunkered in a thicket of rhododendron nearly half a mile away, where the family’s driveway met the dirt county road. At any moment, he was supposed to fire a shot and she nervously awaited it. If luck was on their side, the man living with Lisa would leave the house in an attempt to figure out what was going on. That would leave Lisa for her.
Randi looked down at her hand. Her right, her strongest, clutched the wooden toggle that served as a handle for the garrote. It was bound to her hand with several passes of duct tape. The toggle could not be pulled from her hand. No matter what happened, she would not let go. Were every finger on that hand broken, she would still be able to pull on the toggle and accomplish her task. Only amputation would stop her, and she hoped it did not come to that.
She watched the house, wondering what had happened to all of the people that had once lived there. Had they all died at her brother’s hand or had natural causes taken them? Had they all left and moved elsewhere? There had once been a houseful of the evil creatures. It had probably been the meanest single houseful of people to be found anywhere in the whole count—
BOOOOM!
The rifle shot startled her and she nearly jumped out of her skin. It was happening. It was happening now. The sound of the shot rang away, the echo taking a while to fade completely. She focused all of her attention on the front door of the house, waiting for it to swing open. Her anxiety skyrocketed. She tried to use the force of her will to make the man come outside but nothing happened. Maybe he ran out the back of the house? Maybe no one was home?
Valley of Vengeance: Book Five in The Borrowed World Series Page 17
