by Payne, T. L.
“What’s up, guys?” the man said, his hands still out in front of him, palms out.
“Kevin’s dead,” Gus said.
The woman’s expression never changed. She lowered herself back onto the sofa. The guy slowly took a seat beside her. Neither of them asked what had happened to Kevin.
“We’re going to need you to come with us,” Gus said, hiking a thumb over his shoulder.
The woman batted her eyes a few times and cocked her head to one side. “I don’t think so. You aren’t law enforcement. I don’t have to go anywhere with you.”
Gus took two steps toward her, but Will blocked him with an outstretched arm. “Don’t fall into her trap.”
“You’re both coming with us, or you’re never leaving this room alive. Take your pick ‘cause I got places to be and I ain’t got no patience for this shit today,” Gus said, stepping back.
“We need you two to come over to Isabella’s until we can clear up a few things. We just have a few questions, and then you’re free to go on about your day,” Will added, trying to get the pair to come with them willingly.
The woman turned to her boyfriend. “You ready to die today?”
His mouth dropped open, and his eyes widened. His skin turned two shades lighter. He wasn’t ready to die.
“That’s not necessary. We just need to ask you about the last time you saw Kevin.”
“I didn’t do anything. I wasn’t any part of that, man. I’m not covering for you this time, Reba,” the man said.
Reba threw her head back and laughed. Will saw the glint of the knife two seconds before she thrust it into her boyfriend’s throat. The scream she emitted was unearthly and evil. Will raised his rifle and almost took the shot, but he knew Isabella needed her alive. She needed to hear the woman say she’d done it so she could have closure.
“On your feet!” Will yelled. “Get to your feet, or I will shoot!”
The man’s hands were around his throat. Blood spurted through his fingers. Reba casually sat back and crossed her legs, daring them to come to take her.
“Drop the knife!” Gus yelled, holding his baseball bat high in the air.
Will aimed for her chest, ready to drop her if she came off that sofa. Her gaze went from Gus to Will, and she held the knife out, palm down, with the blade pointing down. She smiled as she let it drop to the floor.
“Stand up and turn around,” Will said, channeling every cop movie he’d ever watched.
She stood, not taking her eyes off him. A cold chill ran down his spine. The woman before him was pure evil. She’d butchered Kevin and stabbed her boyfriend in cold blood and had zero remorse. If she were allowed to live now, there was no telling how many lives she would take without law enforcement to stop her. An image of Isabella splayed out on the floor covered in blood flashed before him. His blood boiled at the thought. He wanted to drop her right there. He went back and forth over his decision, agonizing over it, knowing even small mistakes could cost people their lives.
“Gus, do you have a knife?”
Gus reached into his front pocket and produced a small, folding pocketknife. He opened it and held it out for Will to see.
“Cut the cord off that lamp and then tie her hands,” Will said.
Gus wrapped the electric cord around the woman’s hands several times before tying the knots to secure them.
“Okay. Put her on the floor, face down. We’re going to tie her feet,” Will said.
“Are we hog-tying her?” Gus asked. “We’ll have to carry her if we do that.”
“I think that’s the safest. Unless you want to end up like her boyfriend there,” Will said.
Gus glanced at the man and quickly turned away. He’d slumped down on the sofa, his glazed eyes staring up at the ceiling. He’d stopped breathing.
“I’m too tired for this shit. I can’t wait to get to my mother-in-law’s and get some rest,” Gus said.
Will didn’t want to burst the man’s bubble, but he doubted anyone would be getting much rest from then on. Life had been hard years ago when, without technology, even the simplest tasks would take back-breaking work. He’d had a glimpse of that life as a kid on his grandpa’s farm. They’d been old school and didn’t have many of the modern conveniences. His grandmother washed clothes in an older wringer washer and hung them to dry on a clothesline outback. His grandpa used a scythe to cut the tall grass for hay and then stacked it loosely in the barn loft to feed the animals. Now, with the looks of things, Will was grateful that they’d taught him and his sister those old ways of living. It might just give them a chance to survive this thing. Heaven help the others without a clue how to do such basic things.
Will and Gus dragged Reba to the door and out onto the landing. Will had no concern about being gentle. She was no lady. He wasn’t even sure she was human.
“Lloyd, Paul,” Will called out. We found them. Come help us get the girl back to Isabella.”
Isabella and Jaz stood over Reba as she lay on the landing just outside the apartment where she’d killed Kevin. Isabella’s jaw was set as her eyes bored into the back of the woman’s head.
“Roll her over,” Isabella said. “I want to see her face.”
Will looked over his shoulder, making sure Cayden had obeyed him and remained inside Jaz’s apartment. Lloyd and Paul grabbed the woman’s feet and hands and rolled her onto her back. She scowled at Isabella. When the corners of Reba’s mouth began to turn upward, Will lunged for Isabella. He grabbed her from behind, wrapping his arms around hers, preventing her from raising the rifle she held.
The three young women who lived across from Isabella gasped. Some stepped back and covered their mouths with their hands.
“Don’t let her goad you into doing something you’ll regret,” Will whispered in Isabella’s ear.
Isabella turned her head to one side. “Oh, I won’t regret it, I can assure you of that.”
“Please, Isabella. You want to be sure, right?” Will said.
After witnessing the woman murder her boyfriend in front of him, he was certain she was guilty of killing Kevin, but Isabella needed to be positive as well or what she was about to do could eat her up later in life. He knew that, before all this, she’d been a kind and loving person and hoped that someday soon, she could find her way back there. Killing this woman could make that journey much more difficult. If she heard it from the woman’s mouth, at least she wouldn’t wonder if she’d killed an innocent person.
Maybe I’m projecting, he thought, knowing all too well how guilt could eat a person alive. He just didn’t want that for her.
“Sit her up,” Isabella said.
Will eased his grip on Isabella and stepped back as Lloyd and Paul pulled Reba over to the wall and pulled her into a seated position. Will wanted to beat the smug look off the woman’s face as she scanned the crowd gathered to judge her.
“Tell her what you did,” Gus said.
She stared directly at Isabella then dropped one shoulder and blinked. She had to know what fate awaited her. She was toying with them, enjoying torturing Isabella.
“We were all getting high across the way. Brad passed out and Kevin began making moves on me. He said the two of you’d had a fight—that he was through with you. He called you the ‘C’ word. I hate that word. It’s so disrespectful, don’t you agree? That’s when I decided to do it. That’s when I knew.”
Tears were streaming down Isabella’s cheeks. Her jaw clenched, and she gripped the rifle so tight her knuckles turned white. Will wanted to stop this before there was too much description. He didn’t want Isabella to have that in her head forever. She’d already been traumatized by seeing the body.
He stepped around Isabella and raised his rifle.
“No!” Isabella yelled.
Will turned toward her to reason with her that he should be the one. As he did, he caught movement from the corner of his eye. Jaz screamed, and Will spun back around to find Gus and the woman in a struggle on the ground. Will
couldn’t make sense of what had happened. Her hands were free. Somehow, she’d gotten them untied, and now she and Gus were struggling for control of a knife. She must have taken one from Lloyd or Paul when they moved her. There wasn’t any other explanation.
Jaz ran toward them, but Paul grabbed her and hauled her off her feet. He spun her around and pushed her back a safe distance. Stuart and Marcus rushed over and grabbed the woman, yanking with all their might. She twisted and dropped under Stuart’s arm and broke free. Will and Isabella fired simultaneously. Several rounds struck the woman in the chest and abdomen and her mouth formed an O as she realized what had happened and dropped to the ground. Isabella took two steps toward her as Reba gasped for air. She coughed and spat before keeling over and taking her last breath. Will threw his arms around Isabella and led her toward the stairs. Their job there was done. Kevin’s killer was dead. There was no reason to linger.
“Let’s get the hell out of here. You ready?” Will asked.
Isabella nodded and she melted in his arms as they descended the stairs. It had been a horrific day in a string of horrific days. But she was tough. She’d get through this. They’d all get through it.
Thirteen
Will
Day Six
Isabella placed a backpack on the sofa next to Cayden. “There are a few pairs of socks and a couple of my old T-shirts in there. They’re not too girly—one’s red, the other’s blue. I gave you a new toothbrush and some wet wipes.”
She looked too calm after what had just transpired. Will knew that it would eventually all catch up with her and when it did, he and Cayden would be there for her. Hopefully, so would Savanah and her kids. If they made it that far by then. Will was pretty confident that Isabella had what it took to hold it together until they reached Calcasieu Parish.
Will was checking his ammo supply when he thought he heard an engine in the distance. He stopped what he was doing and listened. A moment later, four military vehicles pulled into the apartment complex and drove up to Isabella’s building.
The three of them crowded in front of the window overlooking the parking lot.
“What the hell?” Isabella said.
Doors opened, and soldiers quickly exited the vehicles, pointing rifles at Lloyd and the other men outside. They yelled and ordered them to raise their hands. Will thought of what Gus had said about them taking the Asians and firing on the men they were with.
“Where is apartment one hundred nine?” a soldier barked.
“That’s my apartment,” Isabella whispered as she backed away from the window.
Will turned and ran to the door. He turned the deadbolt and slid the chain across.
“What are you doing?”
“We can’t be sure what side they’re on,” Will said.
“Whose side they’re on? They're with our military.”
A loud bang on the door startled them and Isabella jumped, bumping into Cayden.
“You two go hide in the bedroom,” Will whispered. He picked up Isabella’s rifle and handed it to Cayden. “Take this.”
“But…”
“Please, Isabella. Do this for me,” Will said, his gaze turning to Cayden.
She nodded and took Cayden’s hand. “Let’s just hang back and see what they want, Cayden.”
The banging continued as they disappeared down the short hall. “Isabella D’Angelo?” a gruff male voice called through the door.
They knew her name. This had to have something to do with Kim and Betley. He knew Isabella shouldn’t have given him her address.
Will turned the lock and cracked open the door, leaving the chain across.
“We’re looking for Isabella D’Angelo. Is she home?”
“What do you want with her?”
“Is she home?”
“I’m not telling you until you tell me what this is about,” Will said.
“What’s your name?” the soldier demanded.
It dawned on him that they hadn’t asked for him and Cayden. They might believe that they’d gone already. He was debating whether to give an alias when the man gave the order to kick in the door.
Will jumped back just in time. But the soldiers were on him in seconds.
“What is this all about?” Will repeated as they applied flex cuffs to his wrists.
“Will!” Isabella yelled as she ran into the room.
“Why are you cuffing him?”
“Are you Isabella D’Angelo?” the soldier asked.
“Dad,” Cayden said as he ran to him.
“It’s okay, Cayden. We’ll get this straightened out.”
Another soldier grabbed Isabella and spun her around.
“Isabella!” Cayden screamed and stepped toward her.
“It’s okay, Cayden.”
“Are you Cayden Fontenot?” the soldier asked.
“Yes.”
“And you’re Will Fontenot?”
“Yes. Will you please just tell us what is going on?” Will asked.
“I’m not authorized to say. You’ll all have to come with us,” the soldier said.
Will knew they were in trouble when they were put into three different Humvees. If Betley had been pulling some strings to get them moved to a shelter, they wouldn’t have split them up like common criminals. But he couldn’t panic, even though they’d separated him from his son. They’d done nothing wrong—except defend themselves. Unless the military was rounding up looters. If they were going to attempt to do that, they’d likely have very full jails.
The events since the lights went out played in his mind. He was trying to recall details of the incidents that might get them in trouble with the law, but the only thing that made sense is that they wanted to speak with them about Kim and what was on that thumb drive. He wasn’t sure what help they could be. They knew less about it than Betley and had spent most of their time with Kim either fighting or running for their lives.
They passed through a series of military checkpoints just before the Sam Houston Freeway. Will leaned forward in an attempt to see if the petroleum fuel tank farm on their left had been one of the fires he’d seen. The soldier to his left stuck out an arm and pushed him back. Shortly after, the Humvee slowed and pulled into a turning lane. Will watched the two vehicles in front of them make the left-hand turn and proceed across the railroad tracks. The sign ahead indicated that they’d arrived at their destination—the Ellington Field Joint Reserve Base.
Ellington was located less than ten miles from Will’s home in Friendswood. He didn’t recognize the base now and was surprised at how much work the military had been able to accomplish in such a short period. Hesco barriers similar to the ones used for flood control had been installed along the road for as far as the eye could see. The ten-foot wall, topped with razor wire, made it nearly impossible to see movement inside. Will wanted to ask how they’d managed such a feat since the EMP knocked out most vehicles. Then he spotted an old excavator dumping sand into the open top of the Hesco unit.
After proceeding through another checkpoint, the three military vehicles in front of them zigzagged around the concrete barriers and rolled to a third checkpoint. Sandbags were stacked waist high all around the buildings and in various places on the lawn. Dozens of military trucks filled the parking lot.
A moment later, the Humvee stopped. The lettering on the multistory building read United States Coast Guard. Will, Cayden, and Isabella were led in by a side door.
“Dad, what’s happening?” Cayden said as he was taken down the hall to Will’s left.
“Where are you taking my son?” Will protested.
“We just need to have a little talk,” a female voice said behind him. “You can release him, private.”
The soldier eased his grip on Will’s forearm and removed the flex cuffs from his wrist.
“I'm Analyst Rachel Stephens. I just need to ask you a few questions. I’ll start with you, Mr. Fontenot. Sergeant Hollingsworth will take Ms. D’Angelo down the hall to the confere
nce room to wait.
“Will?” Isabella was frightened.
“Should we have a lawyer?” Will asked. He didn’t know why he’d said that. It made him sound guilty.
Stephens chuckled, “No. It’s not that kind of questioning.”
“Is this about Kim?” Isabella called back over her shoulder.
The sergeant didn’t stop and wait for her to receive a reply. Stephens wanted to act like none of this was a big deal, but their treatment by the soldiers told another story.
“Have a seat, Mr. Fontenot,” Stephens said, pointing to the chair on the opposite side of a small table flanked by three other chairs. On it was a notepad and pen. The room was small. He doubted there’d be room for two more people. As he took his seat, he looked for the two-way mirror, typical for interrogation rooms, at least Hollywood’s version. He found none. Will checked the ceiling for cameras. If they were there, he couldn’t see them.
“Can I get you anything? A cup of coffee, soda, ice tea?”
“You have ice tea?” Will exclaimed.
She smiled and nodded. Stephens knocked once on the door, and a soldier appeared. “Get Mr. Fontenot a glass of ice tea.” She turned back to Will. “Sweet or unsweet?”
“Sweet,” Will said. She must not be from around here. He’d almost resigned himself to never having southern sweet ice tea again. The thought of it now made his mouth water.
Stephens closed the door and took a seat across from him. She scooted her chair in, causing their knees to touch. Tilting her head to the side, her scrutiny was intense, but he didn’t look away. She shifted her weight in the chair and pulled the notepad closer then picked up the pen and wrote his name and the date at the top of the page.
After asking him for his full name, date of birth, and current address, she got right into the meat of the interview. He appreciated that she didn’t take time trying to build a rapport or waste his time lying about what this was truly about.
