Times What They Are Read online

Page 13


  “Sorry. Haven’t kept up with the news.”

  “Several hundred crossed from Georgia. It’s out of control. They bypassed Chattanooga and hit Cleveland. Looting and killing. The Guard’s got the main bunch pinned down, but rumor has it smaller groups have slipped north.”

  “So you’re wondering about the men we ran into.” Ray thought for a few seconds. “I would have guessed they were not real outdoorsmen. No way to say where they were from.”

  Ray pulled into Jason’s driveway and carried the doctor’s bag inside. Taylor played nurse for her man while a bullet was removed from his shoulder and stitches applied to both wounds. Ray put the Gator away and watched from the loft, more wary after his talk with the doctor.

  He was still there two hours later when Cheryl came out.

  “You think they’ll come?”

  “Not really. Unless the boys we ran into were just a scouting party. And they didn’t seem exactly that.”

  “But you’re up here, waiting.”

  “Look, I’ve got to be somewhere, and in the house seemed in the way.”

  “The doctor told us about the trouble down south.”

  “Yeah. Well, it’s not here yet.”

  Doctor Hollinger stepped onto the porch. He spotted Ray and crossed the yard. “Jason says you’ll give me a lift home.”

  “Sure thing. Coming for a ride, Cheryl?”

  “No thanks.”

  The men climbed into the truck and headed out. On the road into town, armed men stood next to stopped vehicles. Ray guessed there was probably a roadblock to the west, as well.

  A man in fatigues approached the truck. Two more backed him up. “Hey doc,” the man said.

  “What’s going on, Ervin?”

  “Law enforcement’s gone. Militia’s taking over.”

  “Any word from the south?”

  “Some shooting at Etowah.”

  “Getting closer.”

  They drove the last miles in silence, and Ray parked where he’d picked up the doctor.

  Hollinger sat still for a minute. “Jason said you’d pay on the bill.”

  “That son of a bitch. Look, I’m just the help. I fetch things. Do his errands. Christ, I sleep in the barn.”

  “Jason said you were the man’s friend and had the money, I’m sorry.”

  “Me, too. I hauled his ass out of the woods. I should have left him there.”

  Hollinger opened the door. “I said I’m sorry.”

  “Hold on.” Ray reached behind the seat and came out with the Taurus 9mm he’d picked off the kid with the rifle. “It’s not much, but I’m sure these days you can sell any gun.”

  Chapter 34

  Ray passed through the checkpoint on his return with a wave. He didn’t expect that ease to last long, though he’d been in town for months and had been seen with Jason and Dickie many times. He shook his head. He’d about had it with Jason. It looked like he had put the move on Cheryl and was dumping on him any way he could. He wondered if Jason wanted him to move on, alone. But that would be crazy right then. With Dickie laid up, Jason was way short on security. Let him stay up all night, Ray thought. He’d be smart to move on while he could.

  He pulled the truck into the barn and shut the doors, not wanting to alert Jason to his intentions. He figured Jason would claim the truck was his, if it came to it, along with all the weapons. Ray didn’t expect Jason would challenge him directly. That wasn’t his style. More likely, if he got wind of Ray’s plan, the truck would have a couple flats or a mechanical problem. No way to fix either without Jason’s help.

  Ray could leave on the Honda, same way he arrived. But that meant abandoning the rifles he’d acquired and any quantity of supplies. Screw Jason. Ray wanted the truck and had more claim to it than Jason did.

  Ray locked the barn and walked to the house, dropping onto the couch in the living room. Cheryl emerged from Jason’s bedroom and sat in the armchair. Jason followed a minute later and leaned against the wall.

  “Slick move with the doctor.” Ray decided he wouldn’t let it slide.

  Jason gave him a puzzled stare.

  “Doc Hollinger said you told him to collect his fee from me.”

  “It’s you and Dickie go hunting.”

  “So that makes it my problem?”

  “More so than mine.”

  “Well, if you say so.”

  “Did you pay him?” Cheryl asked.

  “Gave him what I had. Seems like he was owed for his troubles.”

  “If it’s all taken care of, what’s the big deal?” Jason said.

  “Nothing, really. I was just trying to get us straight.”

  Cheryl stood. “If you two boys are all made up, soups on.”

  * * *

  Ray returned to the barn after dinner. He sat in the loft for an hour, staring out onto the yard, trying to sort it all out. He had no place to go. The east and west coasts were off limits. Neither Canada nor Mexico were welcoming American immigrants. The only way he saw it was to move farther inland. He believed his best bet was open country to the west, where he could hunt and maybe trade—get by in the wild like men had done generations earlier. He definitely needed all the guns and ammo he could carry.

  The sun settled lower. Ray climbed down and set to work. His biggest problem was getting the Honda into the truck without starting the bike and inviting attention. He gave it some thought and placed hay bales behind the truck configured to form low steps. He then fashioned a ramp of loose lumber and pushed the bike to the truck bed.

  He lay the Honda on its side and tied it down, Then he wrapped the five long guns and six handguns in blankets and placed them behind the cab. He followed that with what food and water he had, his clothes, and two gas cans. He tied the New York tarp tightly over the truck bed, then climbed to the loft and took his watch.

  The sun was up when Ray woke. He washed, rolled his sleeping gear, and stowed it along with the hunting rifle. He opened the walk-in door and looked across to the house. He owed Cheryl a proper goodbye, alone, and he needed a reason to leave. He didn’t want Jason, suddenly suspicious, shooting out a tire as he drove past the house. He sighed, tucked the Beretta in his pants and walked over for breakfast.

  Cheryl opened the kitchen door. Jason was at the table.

  “How’s Dickie?” Ray asked.

  “Doc did a good job. He’ll be all right,” Jason replied.

  Taylor stepped though through the door. She looked tired. “He’s asleep now, but he was asking for you.”

  “Not with a gun in his hand, I hope.”

  Taylor cracked a slight smile. “He told me what happened.”

  Ray took a seat and Cheryl placed a bowl of corn meal mush in front of him. A plate of cornbread sat in the middle of the table.

  “Gonna make you into a southern lady,” Ray said.

  “Use what you’ve got. I think someone famous said that.”

  “Smart man,” Jason said.

  Ray stifled a laugh.

  “Speaking of. We need more. We can about live on that stuff,” Jason said.

  “I’ll keep my eye out. I was planning to hunt down motion detectors up toward Knoxville. With what’s been happening, we need them in a hurry.”

  “Yeah?” Jason said.

  “Figure to run wire a hundred yards out. I need sleep at night. That’d give enough time to prepare.”

  “Knock yourself out, man.”

  “Food.” Cheryl said. “Today’s the Maryville farmers market. You need to run me over, stock up big time if the corn man’s there. Your stolen equipment can wait for tomorrow.”

  “Can you find a drug store?” Taylor asked, “Pick up bandages and Dickie’s meds?”

  “Ray shrugged. “Why not.” At least he would get his talk with Cheryl. Then he’d drop her and the supplies at the end of the drive and beat hell out of there.

  * * *

  Ray drove the truck from the
barn and locked up. Cheryl came down the front steps as he crossed the yard. He stopped, and as she climbed in, the front door opened. Jason stepped to the porch and waved them to hold up. Ray left the engine running and got out. He met Jason half way.

  “If they got any alcohol at that drugstore, would you pick me up some?”

  “The rubbing kind?”

  “Don’t be a smart ass.”

  “Sure. We’ll find you a bottle.”

  Jason stared at the back of the truck. “What’s with the tarp?”

  “It’s going to storm, later. Two hundred pounds of wet cornmeal ain’t much use.”

  “You get the weather out there?”

  Ray pointed. Truck radio. “Guy who lives in a barn has to make do for entertainment.”

  Jason smiled. “Pick yourself up a bottle, too.”

  Ray turned for the truck. He opened the door and called back, “Sentries shouldn’t be drinking.”

  “What was that all about?” Cheryl asked as they left the driveway.

  “He wants me to pick up a bottle.”

  “He’s got his priorities screwy.”

  “And then some.”

  They turned north from Townsend and hit a checkpoint two miles out. Ray stopped. He looked for a familiar face and didn’t find one.

  “Where y’all from?” A heavyset man in jeans and flannel moved to the open window.

  “Out Schoolhouse Gap way. Live with Jace Spenser,” Ray said.

  “Where you headed, now?”

  “Maryville farmer’s market,” Cheryl answered.

  “What’cha haulin’?”

  “All my worldly goods. If we have to beat it out of here, won’t be time to pack.”

  The man laughed. “You give bein’ prepared a new meaning.” Then he waved them on.

  “You really have all your things?” Cheryl asked.

  “I’m not going back.”

  “So this is goodbye?”

  “I stayed to talk with you.”

  “But you were packed and ready without telling me and heading out on a phony search.”

  “I wasn’t leaving till we talked. Been hard to separate you from Jason for a private conversation.”

  “You finally noticed?”

  “Yeah, I noticed. He keeps me out of the house. Thought he was doing his best to run me off, but it wasn’t that. He needs me, but he wants to make sure I’m broke, that I’m totally dependent on him.”

  “You think he’s playing me differently?”

  “I don’t know what’s between you two.”

  “And don’t care?”

  Ray rubbed his cheek as though he’d been stung. “It was my good fortune to hook up with you. I wish you had stayed with me, but I can’t fault you for looking out for yourself.”

  Cheryl was quiet for a few miles. Then said. “Where are you going?”

  “Away from here, mainly. Out west, I guess. There’s an entire lack of good options.”

  “And what about me?”

  “I figured you made your choice when you left the barn.”

  “We moved out together, remember? You moved back.”

  “Right. Like I had a choice. We were supposed to take turns but no one else’s ever came up.”

  “Whatever. We’re not at the farm. You’re not going back. You’ve got no plans for the future; you’re just dumping me with Jason and not looking back.”

  Ray slammed the brakes and skidded to a stop on the gravel shoulder. “What do you want me to do? Play guard and count my lucky stars while you sleep with him?”

  “No, you idiot. I expected you to do something about it.”

  “I am.”

  Cheryl began to cry.

  “You want to die with me on the highway?”

  “There are worse fates.”

  Ray spun the truck around.

  “Where are you going?”

  “To kill him.”

  “Stop! What good will that do? It’s not safe there. Let’s leave. Let’s both of us just leave.”

  Ray slowed and turned, then pulled off the road again. “I’m sorry I didn’t see it for what it was.”

  Cheryl’s eyes flared as she swung an open hand that Ray intercepted on the way to his face.

  “Don’t do that to me again,” she sobbed.

  Ray pulled her to him. “I promise I won’t leave unless that’s what you want. I promise we’re a team, and I’ll shoot the next man that even looks at you funny.”

  “You don’t have to kill anyone.”

  “To keep promise one, I might have to. I can’t go starting fights that might turn out badly.”

  Cheryl laughed. “You are a funny guy.”

  “I warned you.”

  “Now that we are a team, what’s your real plan?”

  “Head out west. Build a shack in the mountains. Hunt, fish, keep a garden if we can.”

  “Will we have neighbors?”

  Ray started the truck and pulled onto the highway. “If we’re lucky, we’ll stumble into like minded people. If not, it’ll be a lonely life for a while.”

  Cheryl thought about that. “Stop at the market. We still need supplies.”

  * * *

  The road into Maryville had become an obstacle course of strategically placed vehicles. Armed men stood behind them, watching the few people entering town. Ray and Cheryl stopped at a wooden barricade. They answered questions from a militiaman, passed scrutiny, and were let through. They parked in the Church Street lot and crossed to the market.

  The pickings were lean from the handful of vendors. Cheryl bought a few berries and vegetables as they made their way to the corn meal man, set up on the fringe of the parking lot. Ray noted the posted price up two dollars a pound. Cheryl waved at the girl in the pink dress from last week, now in jeans and a pink top, hiding under the man’s trailer. The girl waved back.

  “She yours?” the corn meal man asked.

  “No, just a friend.”

  “Maybe you can get her to come on out. I’ve been waiting on her parents to make it around.”

  Cheryl held out a strawberry. The girl crawled out, took it, then thanked her.

  Cheryl sat on the tongue of the trailer. “What’s your name?”

  “Jessie.”

  “Hi, Jessie. I’m Cheryl. Where is your father?”

  The girl sat next to Cheryl. “He went home.”

  “Your mother?”

  “She’s home, too.”

  “Well then, what are you doing here?”

  “I got out. The door wasn’t locked.”

  “The RV? Where we saw you with your father?”

  She nodded.

  “So, you need a ride home?”

  The girl smiled. “To my mother.”

  Cheryl looked up at Ray. He nodded.

  “Okay. Where do you live?”

  “Three, five, one, seven, North Marion Road, Marion, Iowa.”

  “I mean here, in Tennessee.”

  “Daddy has the RV. We stay different places.”

  “Your mother isn’t with you?”

  “Daddy took me. He wasn’t supposed to.”

  “You don’t live with your father?”

  “Un uh.”

  “Never?”

  “Not since he left.”

  “And he never visits?”

  “My mother says he’s not allowed.”

  “So, how did you get here?”

  “Daddy picked me up from school. He was supposed to take me home and he didn’t.”

  Cheryl turned to Ray. “We can bring her to the police,” he said.

  “Who will give her back to her father.”

  “It’s not for us to sort out.”

  “Who then?”

  Ray was slow to answer. “We’ll keep an eye on her till her father shows up. See what type he is.”

  Cheryl rolled her eyes. “You think you can tell by looking at hi
m? There’s a reason courts don’t give visitation. It’s to protect the child.”

  “So we call her mother?”

  Cheryl smiled. “You’re catching on.”

  Ray bought fifty pounds of corn meal and tucked it under the tarp. Then, he joined Cheryl and Jessie in the cab.

  “Jessie says she’s been away from home for months. She has called her mother a couple of times. She didn’t know where to tell her mother to come get her.”

  “Then we need to tell her. That’s pretty simple.” Ray pulled out a prepaid phone. His own and Cheryl’s had quit working shortly after their arrival in Tennessee. He handed the phone to Cheryl. Jessie recited the number.

  The phone rang three times and switched to a message in a woman’s voice: “Jessie, I’m on my way. Please hold tight.”

  Cheryl hit redial and handed Ray the phone. She waited until he put it down. “That was a lot to say to anyone who called.”

  “She’s here?”

  Cheryl shrugged. “Jessie, where did you call from, the last time you talked with your mom?”

  “A house.”

  “Near here?”

  Jessie shook her head.

  “When did you call her?”

  Jessie puckered her lips. “Three days ago.”

  “And you’ve been driving since?”

  Jessie nodded.

  “But you were here last week.”

  “We drive all over. Auntie Ellen likes to drive. She’s not a real aunt. Daddy just says to call her that. She’s his girlfriend.”

  “And you ride in the back when they drive?”

  “I read when we go far. Sometimes I sleep, too.”

  “Today you were going far?”

  Jessie nodded. “Daddy said there was trouble and we had to go.”

  “Do you remember where you stayed three nights ago? When you called your mother?”

  Jessie pointed east. “That way.”

  Ray and Cheryl stepped out of the truck. “What do you think?” Cheryl asked.

  “Her mother still has a phone and the means to search for her daughter.”

  “So?”

  “Iowa might not be in such bad shape. It might be worth a visit.”

  “Take her home? What if we can’t find it?” Cheryl said.

  “She got the phone right. She knows where she lives. At worst, the police up there will get her to her mother, and we’re a few hundred miles out of the way.”