No way, Maria.
Anyway, K. and L. Lovey march to their own drummer. There is no SOB who is going to ever direct their actions—this is not to say Patch is a SOB; he is not—instead, they are smart and capable and driven by their own instincts and absolutely fearless.
Does it get any better than that?
No way Jose, Paco and Maria.
Anyway, the Lovey’s immediately rented and saddled up two fresh horses, restocked their water supply, checked their weapons and turned from the corral back toward the Snake River and back to the Compound.
*********
Back at the Compound Patch, Mustang Sally, Brown Eyes and JoAnn advanced down to almost the floor of the canyon area that was part of the Snake River ancient riparian area but was nothing more than rock strewn desert area.
It was getting dark fast. That is how it is when you are east of the mountains in Washington State with the Cascade Range blocking out sun and the sunset. Patch and company were stationed about 100 yards from the front of the largest building and to the left of 4 vans they could still see in the diming light. With regard to light there was but one at the doorway to the large building. However, a full moon was emerging.
They were hunkered down for about 15 minutes when the spotted the first kittens leave the large building and head off to the four vans.
That is when they spotted Missy Day.
That is when they knew they were at the right place.
That is when they knew they were going to have to take them down.
That is when they knew all hell was about to break loose—if they had only known.
Patch mentally counted the numbers. He counted a total of 20—18 women, 1 tall skinny bearded guy and one other guy with long gun in hand who was actively giving directions to the others.
“That has to be their leader,” JoAnn said while pointing in the direction of W.W. Williams.
“Yeah, the Lord of the Flies himself,” Mustang Sally said tritely with sarcasm streaming out on every syllable.
“What do you think, Patch?” asked Brown Eyes.
They watched as the kittens loaded up the vans and W.W. climbed into the passenger side of the first van.
“What do I think. I think we are alone and there is no time to alert the others and to have them join us … I counted 20 of them and we are 4 … I like our odds against the bastards but they are grouped in 4 different vans and that makes it difficult for us to attack.”
“Let’s split the targets,” JoAnn said.
“Yes,” agreed Mustang Sally.
“Yeah, who takes whom?” asked Brown Eyes.
“Okay, you girls have the long guns so I want you to shoot at the tires of first two vans … if you hit their tires it will help block the other two behind them … at least that is how I see it,” Patch said in a chary reply. “After you fire all hell will break loose and we must be ready for a counterattack and they have those vans to provide them cover … also with this 12-gauge I am too far away to do any damage so I think we should shoot and then run toward that outhouse and take our own cover.”
********
While Patch and company moved toward the Outhouse the Lovey sisters and their mounts were directly behind the second of the largest Butler buildings in the Compound. When they heard the first shots in rapid rap a tap fashion, their mounts reared a bit and they dismounted and tethered the animals to broken off and cracked pillars alongside growths of bitterbrush and saltbrush shrubs and then they hunkered down behind serviceberry and chokeberry bushes.
“What the fuck?” L. Lovey said.
“Sounds like our kind of action,” K. Lovey replied.
When they heard the second round of gunfire they got up from their positions and ran toward the largest building in the Compound.
Meanwhile, Mustang Sally and Brown Eyes were responsible for the first burst of gunfire aimed at the tires of the first two vans. Taking out the tires facing them was not a problem. The other rounds they directed at the driver’s side of the first two vans and apparently took out one of the drivers. Meanwhile, Patch and JoAnn crept closer to the vans and crawled on hardpan to get closer. That is when they heard the pop, pop, pop of gunfire from the other side of the compound directed at the vans and they wondered to themselves if the occupants of the Compound had turned on their compatriots and decided to do them in on their own.
They did not know.
Not then they didn’t.
The kittens were bailing out of the vans and Brown Eyes took two down and Mustang Sally two more and Patch crept closer to the first van but had not fired yet and then he saw one girl who leapt from the fourth van and ran toward the entrance of the largest building but she was taken down by shots from the other side.
That is mysterious fire for sure, Patch told himself as he crept within shotgun range and waited.
Meanwhile from the right side of the Largest building JoAnn spotted L. and K. Lovey at the corner of the building. They waved at each other. JoAnn yelled at Mustang Sally that the Loveys were on the other side of the building firing at the kittens; she passed the word to Brown Eyes who was able to pass it on to Patch.
That was good news in a way to Patch, but it also created a problem of who they were shooting at and they needed to ensure that they did not shoot each other.
Anyway, the shooting stopped as the compound inhabitants were mostly dead or incapacitated by their wounds.
Quiet did not last long … shit, for only about 1 minute.
W.W. recognized that most if not all of his kittens had been taken down by hidden shooters who seemed to be crack shots. He quickly understood that he needed to haul ass.
And he did. He ran toward the back-pond area where he had an underground cellar type structure that was fully stocked with weapons, food and survival equipment.
W.W. waited for what he thought was the right moment and dashed out the back of the large building. The Loveys spotted him right away but did not have a clear shot at him. They yelled toward JoAnn who got up from her position, ran over to where Patch was and yelled to him about W.W. trying to escape. Patch got up and signaled to Brown Eyes and Mustang Sally to stay low and keep an eye out for any other kittens.
JoAnn joined Patch and they ran after W.W. who had about 100-yard lead on them. He was a slow runner, slower than even 76-year-old Patch; he and JoAnn closed the distance on W.W.
When they were approximately 40 yards behind them W.W. turned and using a handgun fired a couple of shots at them. One of the bullets hit Patch in the left groin area just a couple inches from the family jewels. He was hurt but grateful for not losing his manhood.
Shit wouldn’t you be grateful?
Absolutely, Jose and Paco.
Anyway, the Loveys were right behind JoAnn and Patch now wounded and laying on the ground. When she saw that the Loveys were caring for Patch, JoAnn continued the chase and in short order was almost up to him.
W.W. shaken by JoAnn’s obvious ability to close on him arrived at the pond and took a hard right along the slanted shoreline.
L. Lovey caught up with JoAnn and the two of them chased after W.W. and finally JoAnn fired and hit him in the shoulder and then with a second shot hit him in the back of the head and the force of the bullets’ impact made W.W. fall down a sloped area and into the pond. When JoAnn and L. arrived at the spot above the pond water they were amazed to see the feeding frenzy that was devouring W.W. Williams.
“What the fuck … what is this shit?” L. Lovey asked.
“Looks like a bunch of hungry Piranhas to me,” JoAnn stated.
“Well shit, I hope they do not get indigestion on devouring that creepo,” L. Lovey said.
Break out the Pepto, Jose, Paco and Maria.
AFTERWARD
They were all in the motel conference room and all laughing so hard they were struggling to breathe. L. Lovey was telling all the Curmudgeons about Patch and Nelly; that is, Dr. Nelly. After being wounded in a tender and secretive place (secretive to P
atch, anyway) Dr. Nelly went to work on him; his wound was a glancing blow with a slight skin abrasion and one 2-inch spot that needed stitches so Dr. Nelly performed the needed medical procedure. Patch was very upset that he had to expose himself to a woman, Dr. Nelly.
“Ok, buster … forget that I am a woman and remember that I am also a surgeon and capable of performing almost all medical procedures … and you have nothing hidden from view that I have not seen in the past,” Nelly said, but deep down she was thinking that it was about time they got a bit personal.
“Ha, Ha, Ha.”
The old Yada, Yada, Yada was gone and buried.
Oh how blessed is that?
Better now than never, Jose, Paco and Maria.
Murder in the Palouse Page 12
