by Hunt, Jack
Outside in the yard, they had to work under the glow of the moon as the generator has been stolen. As he was turning over a recliner chair, he stopped and looked out into the woods.
“It doesn’t make sense.”
“What doesn’t?” Eric asked, not even looking at him.
“Well you break into a home because you want to steal something.”
“Nah, they wanted to send a message,” Eric replied.
“But still, you’re there and the place was loaded with food. The only thing they took was a generator.”
“Everyone needs one.”
“Sure but…” he trailed off. “When you saw the two figures, did they escape on foot or dirt bike?”
“On foot.”
“So who was carrying the generator?”
“What?”
“Well, how did they get the generator out of there?”
Eric stopped what he was doing and shot him a glance. “Maybe there were more than two.”
“But you only saw two.”
“And I said there could have been more.”
Sam nodded. “You see a generator in the cemetery?”
“Nope.”
“Those things aren’t light. The one Richard had was a good size. It would have taken at least two people to haul it out of here.”
“Maybe they drove and left before the others did.”
“Or maybe they weren’t the ones responsible, just as they weren’t responsible for stealing gasoline from Gene Landers.”
Eric snorted. “You believe that?”
“They didn’t strike me as the violent kind.”
“You didn’t see what they did to his face,” Eric said. “Anyway, forget that, give me a hand.” Sam took a hold of one end of the sofa chair and he took the other and they shuffled it over to where the window once was. They tossed it inside and returned to collect the rest. As they were walking back, Anna emerged from the house holding a stack of envelopes in her hand. She had this look of complete bewilderment on her face.
“Anna? What’s the matter?” Sam asked.
Eric turned.
Anna held up the thick wad of envelopes. “He kept them.”
“What?” Sam walked over and looked down at the envelopes. He instantly recognized them as those he’d sent to Anna. They were yellow, wrinkled by time and humidity but his nonetheless.
“There are even more inside. He had them stashed away in a box down in the basement. I can’t believe it. You were telling the truth.”
She looked back down and pulled out a birthday card. She opened it and read it aloud. Inside, the words told her that Sam had included some cash for her, and to enjoy her day but the cash was gone. She tipped her head back and squeezed her eyes shut and gripped the envelopes tight as if she was trying to get a grip on her emotions.
“All these years he told me you didn’t care.”
Eric approached. “He hid them from you?”
“Hid them. Intercepted the mail. Who knows? All I know is he never gave them to me and told me my father was a liar. And yet here’s proof he was lying.”
Sam swallowed hard and placed a hand on her shoulder. Eric looked at him and her, then dropped his head and walked away. Sam caught the expression on his face.
“You okay, Eric?”
He nodded but didn’t say anything.
“Let’s just leave,” Anna said. “He can do this himself.”
She didn’t have to convince Sam, he told Eric they were heading back to the house. “You coming?”
“I’m gonna stay here if you don’t mind.”
“You sure?”
He nodded.
As they walked away, Sam did his best to talk Anna down from the ledge. She was seething. Once they made it back to the car, she stopped outside and looked at him. “Dad, I’m really sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not. I went off on you back in Boston and…”
Sam walked back around the car and wrapped his arms around her. “It doesn’t matter now. What matters is that you know the truth. I’d never give up on you, kid.”
He kissed the top of her head and hugged her for a minute or two and then they got into the car and pulled away. It didn’t take long to return to the house. Along the way Sam chose not to say anything. This was something she needed to deal with, but damn he couldn’t wait to see the look on that asshole’s face when she unleashed hell on him. If she was anything like her mother, Richard didn’t know what was about to hit.
Anna was the first out of the vehicle. She jogged into the house, clutching the large wad of envelopes. They both walked straight past Mason, and he offered them a confused expression.
“She okay?” Mason asked. “You didn’t piss her off again, did you?”
Before he could respond, Anna yelled, “Grandfather! Grandfather!”
Her voice echoed in the house as she stormed into different rooms searching for him.
“I’m out the back,” Richard replied.
Anna brushed past Amanda. Richard was sitting in a recliner chair, his head bandaged up, and he was smoking a cigar. Sam watched as Anna tossed the envelopes on his lap.
“You liar!”
Richard glanced down and then looked past her towards Sam as if he wasn’t expecting to see him. “Hold on a minute, Anna.”
“Why would you do that? Huh? All these years I’ve assumed my father didn’t care. You allowed me to believe that he didn’t give a damn. You even told me to my face that he had never sent a letter. You’re a liar!”
He rose and groaned a little, reaching for his head.
“You’ve got this all wrong.”
“Have I? It seems pretty obvious to me.”
“Why would I keep them, Anna?”
“Because you didn’t want me to see them.”
“Then why didn’t I burn them?”
Anna got this confused expression on her face. Sam shook his head. He knew where this was going. He was going to flat out lie again. It was just what he did. He was a master at it. He could turn a bad situation on its head in seconds. It brought him back to the night he handed over a video to Helen showing him in some seedy motel with Elizabeth. It didn’t matter to her that he’d set him up or that Sam wasn’t even aware of what was happening until it was over. He played on her emotions, and he was going to do the same thing again with Anna.
“I don’t know. Maybe because you’re sick and you wanted to be reminded of what you’d done.”
“I kept them because your mother wanted to throw them out. I was planning on giving them to you when you were old enough. I forgot I had them.”
For a few seconds Anna let his words sink in before she balled her hands then stabbed a finger against his chest. “Don’t you dare blame her!”
“It’s true.” He looked over at Sam. “How the hell do you think I would get my hands on these?” He lifted one up and showed it to her. “It’s addressed to her. I might know a few people in town but intercepting mail isn’t something I dabble in. Your mother didn’t want you to have a relationship with your father. And that’s the truth.”
“Yeah, I wonder why,” Sam interjected.
Richard frowned. “You brought this on yourself.”
“Go on, Richard, lie to her just like you did to Helen.”
“I didn’t lie, you goddamn piece of work. You were the one who cheated on her.”
“You set me up.”
“Prove it.”
Sam gritted his teeth.
“Yeah, just as I thought. You can’t,” Richard said.
“Set him up?” Anna said. Her eyes bounced between them. “Set what up?”
Richard gave a smug smile, preparing to throw Sam under the bus. “Oh, he didn’t tell you? Isn’t that a surprise?” He looked at Sam. “Do you want to fill in the blanks or should I?”
Sam stared down at the ground, a wave of shame rolling over him. He knew he hadn’t chosen to go back to that motel willingly. That wasn’t
him. But Richard was right, he couldn’t prove it. It was for that reason alone that Helen kicked him out.
“I didn’t walk away, Anna. Your mother didn’t want me here.”
Richard tipped his head back and started nodding. “That’s right, try and play the victim card. The only victim, Sam, was Helen. You ruined a good marriage and walked away from Anna. And once again, you are ruining everything by coming back and sticking around and…”
“Shut up, grandfather!” Anna cried. She looked back at Sam. “What do you mean, set up?”
Sam breathed in deeply and brought her up to speed on what occurred that night, at least what he could remember, and then the fallout after a video was handed over.
“Couldn’t have said it better myself.”
Sam’s jaw clenched, and one of his hands balled. He wasn’t wiggling his way out of this, and yet Richard had already turned the tables when initially he was the guilty party.
“Is it true?” Anna asked.
“That was me on the video. Yes. But I did not choose to go back with her. I was drugged.”
Richard threw up his hands. “Drugged. Please. Give me a break. Next he will be telling you that he sent you money in these birthday cards.” Anna looked at her grandfather as he continued. “They’re empty because he never sent you any.”
Sam stepped forward. “That’s bullshit and you know it!”
“Face the facts, Sam. You were a loser when you married Helen, and you’re still a loser! Nothing is going to change that.”
Sam lunged forward but Mason was quick to get between them.
“Whoa, hold on.”
“Get out. Get out of this house now!” Sam yelled.
“I’m not going anywhere. If anyone should leave it’s you!”
“It’s my house. I will say who leaves and who stays,” Anna piped up.
Both of them looked at her and she made a gesture to her grandfather to leave.
“But Anna.”
“Leave.”
“I’m telling you the truth. He’s the one lying to you.”
“LEAVE!” she bellowed in his face.
Richard stood there for a second or two, shaking his head. He shot a glance at Sam, sneered and quickly exited the house. The echo of the door slamming sounded so final. Sam reached for Anna but she shrugged him off and brushed past him. He heard her begin to sob as she hurried upstairs.
Tension hung in the air right before Chase said, “Damn, and I thought my family was screwed up.”
Chapter 11
It took Thorn’s team less than fifteen minutes to breach the door. Hector Richardson gave what was left of the door a hard kick and it swung wide, leading into a small grated area with an elevator. The emergency generator was housed in the Launch Control Equipment Building, a cramped room across from the capsule. It housed a diesel-powered electrical generator and additional equipment that handled environmental control for the Launch Control Center.
“After you,” Hector said gesturing for Thorn to step into the tiny elevator. After, Hector pulled two steel gates closed and hit the button to take them down. While they didn’t expect to encounter resistance, each of them were on the ready, gripping their rifles.
The elevator jerked to a standstill and they exited. Off to their left was a large mural on a blue wall of a nuclear missile with the letters USAF. The missile was breaking through a Russian flag. On the first blast door, which was closed, was the Domino’s Pizza logo, except where it would have had the name of the company on the blue background, it had a white missile. Above were the words: World Wide Delivery In 30 Minutes or Less. Thorn chuckled. Only the military could be so contemptuous.
He turned to his right and walked into the open equipment building. Inside, air ducts snaked above them feeding through a wall of reinforced concrete and no doubt ending inside the Launch Control Center. To the right and left were diesel fuel storage tanks, and ahead was the generator.
“Okay, let’s shut it down.”
“But Thorn, we won’t be able to get out. The elevator will stop working,” Hector said.
He smiled. “They won’t be in there that long.”
He got back on the radio and checked with another one of his men to make sure they had blocked the air intake vents. It wouldn’t be long before they would be gasping for air, overheated and desperate to get out. Eight hours, tops, and then the doors would open. They had all the time in the world. No help was coming.
Hector shut off the generator, and the sounds of fans whirring above them slowed and it went quiet. All the lights went out, and they turned on their flashlights.
“Now we wait.”
“And if they choose to not come out?”
“They’ll die.”
“Let’s hope they’re not martyrs,” Dmitry said.
The first thing Richard did when he stepped into his home was rip the bandage off his head. He was furious. He looked around and saw that some areas had been tidied while others remained in disarray. There was noise coming from the back of the house.
Richard darted into the kitchen and scooped up a knife.
He moved slowly through a set of open French doors into his living room, shining his light and trying to get a bead on who it was. He hoped, no, scratch that, he prayed that it was an intruder. He was in a foul mood and nothing would give him greater satisfaction than plunging a knife into some drug-fueled tweaker.
As he burst out into the corridor, a light flashed in his eyes.
“It’s me.”
“Eric?”
“Yeah, still clearing up.”
He charged at him and slammed him up against the wall, quickly bringing the knife up to his throat. “Why isn’t Sam dead?”
“I tried. I…”
“Don’t say you couldn’t do it.”
“No, I did.” He spat the words out. “I missed.”
“You missed? You missed!” His voice rose.
“It was dark. There were too many. I didn’t want to hit a kid.”
He released his grip and Eric sank to the floor. Richard turned around and walked back into the living room searching for alcohol.
“This has gone too far, Richard.”
“I’ll say when it’s gone too far.”
“It’s not right. She’s already had her mother taken from her.”
“And?”
Eric flashed a light in Richard’s eyes. “What the hell has happened to you, man? You never used to be like this. Elly wouldn’t have wanted you to do this.”
“Well she isn’t here now,” he said continuing to root through his cupboards. He slammed them in frustration. “Not one fucking drop. He destroyed it all.”
Richard got up and slammed his fist into the drywall, leaving a bowl-sized impression. He stomped into the kitchen and continued his search, then ran up the stairs hoping that the bottle he’d got for Christmas was still there, stashed away in a bag, tucked in a suitcase which contained anything that he didn’t want out in the open. He got down on his hands and knees like a desperate drug addict searching for their next hit. He reached under the king-sized bed and pulled it out. The second he unzipped the brown suitcase, he smiled. Richard scooped up the bottle and clutched it like it was the last bottle on the planet. He unscrewed the top and chugged it down before wiping his wine-stained lips.
He backed away and pressed himself against the wall and looked around the dark, empty room. It reflected how he felt inside. There was nothing without Elly. She was the one good thing in his life. In the thirty-plus years they were married, she had always been there for him. Why she stuck around so long was a mystery. When he wasn’t raising his voice, losing his temper with city council members, he was lost in his work. Just a few more hours, he would say. Weekends were a luxury. He worked harder than anyone in the city. And what did he have to show for it now? A large bank account that he couldn’t draw upon, the power was off, the home was empty, his granddaughter hated him and the town was about to collapse.
As
he sat there sipping on wine, Eric made his way upstairs.
He didn’t say anything at first but just sat down beside him and they both stared out of the large window. A crescent moon hung in the sky over jagged mountains, the only light beyond that came from small fires still burning in the town.
“You know it’s not too late to turn things around.”
Richard chuckled. “Always the optimist, aren’t you, Eric?”
Eric made a gesture for the bottle and Richard hesitated before handing it to him.
“I thought you’d given it up?”
“I have.”
Richard laughed and handed it to him. Eric took a hard pull on it and gave it back.
“So what now?” Eric asked.
Richard glanced at his watch. “We still have a town hall meeting at eight.”
“You’re still going?”
“Why wouldn’t I? The people need me now more than ever.”
Eric shook his head. “Why do you do that?”
“What?”
“Try so hard to win the approval of people who don’t care.”
“Of course they care. If they didn’t they wouldn’t show up.”
“They care about themselves. I meant you.”
Richard rolled the bottle in his hand then chugged it. “If I don’t have this. What do I have?”
“That depends on you. Why not be honest with Anna?”
“Because she’ll never speak to me again.”
“Did you hide the envelopes from her?” Eric asked. “Or was that Helen?”
He shot Eric a glance and smiled. “Does it matter?”
“It matters to Anna.” Eric sighed. “Richard, I like you. I do. But… dishonesty only gets you so far.”
“Is that so?”
He nodded. “Take it from a lawyer who has killed someone and covered it up, and tried to take an innocent man’s life.”
Richard turned and studied him. “Innocent? You think Sam is without fault?”
“I didn’t say without fault. None of us are without blemish. I’m saying that he hasn’t done anything to you.”
“And you would know this because?”
“Because if anyone would have reason to bitch and complain, it would have been Helen. And in all the years after he left, she never once spoke badly of him. Sure, she was hurt by how things ended but she didn’t resent him the way you do.”
