by Connor Mccoy
That was where Jacob’s scope came in handy. It was the most advanced telescope Jacob possessed that did not require electronics to make it work. Its lens allowed him to see all the way through the trees to the road, though the final image was somewhat blurry. But it did not matter. The size of Sykes’s truck would make it visible even if it came off as a weird moving blob.
I’m keeping watch for an armed band of men, she thought with slight amusement. It was getting harder to be afraid of what could happen. It was as if she finally was getting used to this crazy new life of hers.
She patted her camouflage print pants. They still smelled like the house attic. Domino’s thin frame made her a few sizes smaller than Sheryl, so Jacob and Domino had to go up into the attic to find Domino’s clothes from back when she had gained some weight. They were the only ones that could fit Sheryl.
Sheryl wiped sweat off her arms. At this rate, I’ll drop enough weight to fit into Domino’s stuff with no problem.
She thought about asking Brandon about wildlife delicacies again. However, Brandon’s sudden cry put a stop to such ideas.
“Hey! I see the truck! It’s coming! It just passed!”
The boy pulled away from the scope. Sheryl didn’t need to look through it. The truck would be gone from sight by now. She grabbed the telescope and the tripod on which it stood.
“Start peeling rubber, Brandon.” Sheryl started running down the hill. “We’ve got to sound the alarm.”
Sykes pushed on the play button. The cabin of the delivery truck promptly filled with the guitar strings and vocals of The Rolling Stones. Sykes sang the lyrics to “Beast of Burden” as the song played.
He had prepared his trucks well for the EMP. He had packed away some old cassette players in a Faraday cage that could block electromagnetic waves. After the EMP hit, Sykes had made sure they were installed in his trucks so he could play his collection of cassette tapes.
With soft air blowing on him from the air conditioning vent, Sykes felt he was on top of the world. Who else had it as good as he did right now? Here he was, riding down this Virginia road, being driven by one of his men, on his way to the Avery house to collect his due. Previously, he successfully had raided a gas station of its fuel supply. Every last drop of it would serve his truck fleet.
The idea that things could go wrong was the farthest thing from his mind. So, it jolted him when his driver suddenly put on the brakes.
“Mallory?” Sykes blinked his eyes, refocusing on the here and now. “Why did you stop?”
Mallory looked ahead as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “The road. There’s a bunch of trees just laying across it.”
Lying across it, not laying. But Sykes didn’t care to correct Mallory’s grammar. He looked through the windshield. Sure enough, he thought he spotted rows of tree trunks strewn across the asphalt. To make sure his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him, he rolled down the window and stuck his head out.
“Son of a bitch! There’s got to be several trunks. There’s no way they just fell over like that. Someone moved them there.” Sykes was dumbfounded. Who in the world would block the road like this?
Sykes turned to the back seat of the cab. “Unload everyone. Let’s see if we can find a way around that shit out there.”
Jacob, seated up in the tree, watched Sykes and his men disembark the truck. There were ten in all. Sykes pointed to the blockade. “God damn!” he said.
The men fanned out into two groups on either side of the fallen trees. “Sykes!” called a thin man in a dirty T-shirt. “We can’t fit the truck through here. The trees are too close together!”
That’s how I planned it, Jacob thought with some satisfaction. He knew Sykes would try to drive around the blockade if he could, so Jacob and his family pulled the trees to points in the surrounding woods where a vehicle like Jacob’s could not get through.
Sykes rejoined two of his men. “Now, why in God’s name would someone block this road?” he asked them.
“Who’d go through the trouble? It’s still what, twenty minutes to the next town? The only thing close by is that ranch where we dropped off our little family, and I don’t think Guy suddenly developed a sick sense of humor.”
He pointed to his remaining henchmen. “Grab some guns. We’re headed to that homestead. I don’t believe for a minute that Guy and Terri don’t know what the shit is going on.”
So, they are going to try hiking around the trees? Jacob looked to his wife, who was seated in a tree across the road. A confrontation was inevitable. It was time to reveal themselves.
“That’s far enough, Sykes!” Jacob shouted, pointing his gun below. “You’re not coming any closer to my house!”
The men below cocked their heads upward, some shouting a few expletives. Sykes kept silent as he turned in Jacob’s direction. “Ah. So, this little blockade, this is your doing?”
“Yeah. Practically kicked the shit out of me to haul this wood here but it was worth it,” Jacob said.
“Not exactly a neighborly way to greet a fellow, is it?” Sykes asked.
“It wasn’t exactly neighborly to take a man’s house away from him,” Jacob retorted.
Sykes’s mouth dropped open. “So, you own that little farm out there! My God!” The surprise in Sykes’s voice hardly sounded authentic to Jacob’s ears. “Well, I’m glad you made it back. I had no earthly idea the people who owned that farm were still alive.”
I bet, Jacob thought.
“How about you come on down and tell me how you made it back?” Sykes asked.
“No, thanks,” Jacob replied coldly. “Let’s just say I don’t quite trust you.”
“Why’s that? I don’t mean anyone any harm. Oh, you’re mad because I let that sweet little family live on your property.” Sykes laughed. “I didn’t think anyone was coming back. If you want an apology, you got it. By the way, I assume you’ve met Guy and Terri. Where are they? I’d like to see them.”
“I sent them on their way,” Jacob said. “You’re dealing with me now. I’m the king of this castle, and I’ve just pulled up the drawbridge. You’re not getting anything from my farm, so you can turn around and go back to wherever the hell you came from.”
Sykes laughed. The man was trying to sound good natured, but Jacob could detect the animus in his voice. “Sir, I don’t know who you take me for,” Sykes said. “I’m just an honest businessman. I run a born and bred Virginia delivery company. As you can tell, I have a fully functional delivery truck.”
“Yeah, a truck that runs on gas you’ve been stealing!” Jacob cried out.
“Stealing?” Sykes put his hand on his chest as if he was emotionally wounded.
“That’s right. Remember Doc Sam’s place? You had Alex Cowell go in and rob his garage of a couple of gas cans! Your sons of bitches then shot at my wife while Cowell made off with the fuel!” Jacob shouted.
Sykes glanced at one of his men, who told him something. His voice was too quiet for Sykes to hear. Sykes nodded, then turned back to Jacob. “So, that woman on Sam’s land, that was your gal? Well, I can see why this is one hell of an awkward meeting.”
“You would have killed her!” Jacob cried. “You’re lucky I don’t blow your head off and the heads of your goon squad in return. I’m being generous in letting you go!”
“It was unfortunate that your lady got in the line of fire,” Sykes said. “But there was a lot at stake. The doc wasn’t going to use that fuel. I know he sure as hell isn’t using it now.”
Jacob’s jaw clenched. Sykes knew Doc Sam was dead.
“That fuel’s going to a better purpose. My operation’s going to send food and water from town to town. I’m saving people’s lives. It’s a shame some people don’t appreciate that.”
“You can try clothing yourself as the people’s savior all you want, but I know you’re full of it. So, turn that truck around and don’t come back to my house ever again,” Jacob said. “You do and next time it’s going to be far worse
than just a few logs on the road.”
Sykes, his hands on his hips, shook his head. “Dear Lord. So, you’re going to withhold all those nice crops from me. Not even going to cut a nice deal? Think of what I could trade you. Food, medicines, maybe even a set of electronics I saved from the EMP.”
“Here’s my answer.” Jacob shot off a bullet over the heads of Sykes and his men.
Sykes jolted for an instant. The smug son of a bitch wasn’t used to being shot at. Maybe that would rattle him.
But instead Sykes regained his composure, pulling his shirt taut. “Yeah, you’re definitely not a neighborly sort. I don’t like that. I especially don’t like little idiots like yourself who shoot off at the mouth.” He stiffened his chin. “But you really cross the line when you try to take a shot at me. Because…”
Sykes didn’t finish his sentence. Instead a loud pop hit the tree just under Domino. Jacob’s heart pounded. His wife wasn’t hit, but that shot was too close for comfort. Domino clung to the tree.
“I might just shoot back,” Sykes finished.
One of Sykes’s men had remained out of sight until now. He had taken cover behind the truck and just revealed himself by aiming a rifle at the tree where Domino was stationed. He must have been scouting out the surrounding area while Jacob and Sykes were sparring and spotted Domino.
“Now.” A lot of the aw-shucks tone in Sykes’s voice disappeared. “Let’s get real here, boy. For starters, throw down those mighty nice guns in your hands. If not, your lady up there is going to get the slug in her that she missed the first time. And don’t think my men can’t nail you as well. Then we’ll negotiate a settlement on my terms.”
Jacob’s lips tightened. Sykes was as dangerous as he had feared. The man was not going to give up on the Avery house. Fortunately, Jacob had counted on Sykes’s treachery. Thanks to his son’s suggestion, Jacob was about to turn the tables on Sykes.
Jacob whistled loudly, in the form of a bird’s chirp.
Sykes’s men turned to each other. “What the hell was that?” one of them asked. “Is he trying to be funny?” questioned another.
Oh, it’s going to be funny, alright. Jacob glanced down at the woods on the left side of the truck. Only I’m the only one who’s going to be laughing.
A shot burst from the woods. Something launched right into the open cargo area of the truck.
Jacob couldn’t see it from where he was, but he knew what had happened. His daughter, secreted in the woods, just had launched a special canister mixed with fuel and a primer. The results spoke for themselves when the interior of the cargo area suddenly exploded in flames.
Sykes and his men spun around. “Son of a bitch!” one of the men cried out.
An inferno gushed out of the cargo area. Flames quickly spread as the fire devoured the backend of the box truck. Jacob guessed that Sykes had stored some of his stolen fuel inside the storage cabinet. It would help keep the fire burning nice and hot.
Sykes’s eyes widened. “No!” He shook his head violently. “No!”
Thanks, Brandon. Jacob’s boy had suggested that they take out the truck if they had to. That way, Sykes and his men could not come around the back if they refused to abandon their pursuit of Avery’s property.
But that was only half the battle. Now Jacob and his family had to make sure the threat Sykes posed was extinguished. The businessman had lost his composure, cursing and pointing up at the trees.
“Shoot their asses!” Sykes cried.
But Jacob and Domino already were in motion, their hands pulling on triggers. The man nearest to Domino went down thanks to Jacob’s bullets. Another man took a hit, spun around, and slammed against the burning truck before flopping onto the asphalt.
Sykes ducked and ran toward the road’s shoulder, also taking care to avoid his burning vehicle. The other men, while they sped toward the woods, still aimed their guns back toward Jacob and Domino.
However, two of them suddenly went down. Additional rounds rang out from the woods, one from Jubilee’s direction, the other from the opposite side of the road. Jacob and Domino fired their latest barrages. Sykes’s men were caught between four different shooters.
The men quickly fanned out, apparently realizing they were caught in the open. Two more men fell. The rest disappeared from sight.
Jacob ceased fire when it became clear there were no more targets. They seemed to have nailed six. There was no sign of Sykes. Jacob mentally recounted the men. Three or four more might still be out there.
He slung the strap of his rifle over his shoulder before climbing down the tree. Domino followed his lead. Husband and wife reunited on the street.
Jubilee popped out of the trees. She was holding her own weapon. “Dad!”
“You did great!” Jacob rushed over and put his arm around her.
The teen looked around the mass of dead bodies and grimaced. “Yeah.”
Jacob sympathized with her. It could not have been easy to pull that trigger on actual human beings. As Sheryl climbed out of the brush on the other side of the road, Jacob imagined it was even harder for his sister.
“Sheryl!” Jacob beckoned to her.
Sheryl coughed. The smoke from the truck fire filled the air. “I wanted…I wanted to try hitting Sykes…”
“Don’t worry. You did just as I told you.” Jacob coughed. “We’ve got to get away from the truck.” The fire had now reached into the driver’s cabin and was consuming it. “We’ve got to track down Sykes and whoever else is with him. We can’t let him get to the house.”
Chapter Eighteen
As Sykes fled through the trees, vicious thoughts flooded his mind. This could not be happening. This could not be happening to him. He was the king of this state. Who the hell were these people to try stopping him from taking what was rightfully his?
And by rightfully his, Sykes included everything and anything he laid his eyes on.
Despite his rage, fear, even a little terror, racked Sykes to his bones. He was in trouble. His truck, his ticket back to his headquarters, just had been torched. With phones dead, he had no way of contacting his men at his headquarters to send another truck to pick him up or send help. He would have to walk to the next town, and without his truck, he had no supplies to barter with. He would have to…to beg! Beg for help! Beg for food and shelter!
Sykes cursed loudly. He wanted these people to pay. He vowed to squeeze the life out of them with his bare hands. But right now, he had to focus on staying alive. He was armed, but without his men he was outnumbered. He didn’t know how many people were helping that homesteader. There was his wife and that unknown shooter that took out his truck. That made three. Was there a fourth? So many bullets flew onto the road that it seemed as if there were five, six, maybe more.
He stumbled. His right knee crashed down into a mud puddle. Damn. His nicely cleaned jeans had landed in a nasty mud puddle. He might have cared more if his body wasn’t pumped full of adrenalin. He still had to escape that homesteader. He picked himself up and kept running.
Before long he started heaving. He wasn’t used to running on such uneven land, and these boots weren’t intended for long treks. He was sure the homesteader’s ranch was in this direction. He hoped he hadn’t become lost. He didn’t have a clue how to navigate in the woods by himself.
Keep calm, he thought. You can outsmart these yokels. If he could find their ranch, he could raid some of their crops to feed himself. He might find some supplies that he could escape with. With luck, he might sustain himself until he could find a way back to his headquarters.
And if he managed to exert some revenge on that homesteader, then so be it.
Brandon sat back in his chair after pacing around the attic. Nearby, Courtney was seated near the right wall, her nose in a book. A small pile of books lay beside her. Thanks to Brandon’s mom and Aunt Sheryl, Courtney had gathered some books to occupy her time.
When Brandon agreed to watch Courtney and Arnie, he hoped it would afford
him some time to get to know Courtney. However, the girl wasn’t the most talkative type and retreated into her own inner world. Arnie, for his part, seemed content to play by himself, coloring in his coloring book.
Brandon glanced at the gun on his belt again. He had felt nervous earlier, wondering if Sykes or his men would try breaking into the attic, but as the hours passed, boredom took over. He doubted that his parents, Aunt Sheryl and Jubilee would fail in stopping Sykes, but so much had happened in the past week that he couldn’t truly be sure.
Arnie stood up. The movement broke Brandon’s train of thought. The man looked around the attic as if finally aware of his surroundings. He seemed fidgety, as if he wanted to go somewhere else.
“Arnie?” Brandon rose out of his chair. “You okay?”
Arnie started groaning, not very loudly, but constantly enough to rattle Brandon. “Want to go outside, Brandon.” He reached up and touched one of the ceiling beams. “Not liking it in here anymore.”
He might be getting claustrophobic, Brandon thought. He wished the attic had a window, a way to open it up to the outside world.
“I know it sucks to be in here,” Brandon said, “but we got to keep it cool in here until they give us the okay to leave. There are bad guys out there, remember?”
Arnie’s face tightened. “I don’t want to stay in here.”
“But Arnie—” Brandon began.
Arnie’s groans grew louder. Then, abruptly, he let out a shout. Brandon backed up so quickly that he kicked over the chair he had been sitting in. His heart pounded. Would Arnie go so nuts that the man would try to kill him? Would Brandon have to shoot him?
All of a sudden, Courtney yanked off an old sheet from a pile of boxes and cast it over Arnie’s head. Courtney called out in a high-pitched voice. “Hey Arnie, it’s nighttime! It’s nighttime! See? It’s all dark!”
Arnie spun around in a circle. His grunts started to subside. “See?” Courtney asked, “It’s night! You want to come back in or do you want to stay out in the dark where it’s all fun and you can camp out?”
