Collision Course (22 page)

“I have to go, Crystal,” he said.

She dropped the plate she was scrubbing back into the water. “No. You don't have to. I'm not mad at you anymore.”

“It's not that, Crystal. It's the cops. They're not going to stop until they find out who killed the sheriff's cousins.”

“They won't find out,” she insisted. “I won't tell them, and nobody else knows.”

“They'll find out if they keep looking. I was sloppy and told the deputy I was your husband. Sooner or later, someone's going to tell them I'm not, and when they discover that lie, they'll start digging. They'll interrogate us both until one of us cracks.” DJ knew all they'd have to do was tell Crystal they were going to take Nancy, and she'd tell them everything. “Then I'll be in jail, and you'll be without me anyway. It's better if I go now.”

“But we need you to protect us until Roger gets back. Can't you just stay a little while longer?”

“I can't. If it had been a regular deputy who'd come to the door instead of the reserve, I'd probably already be in jail. I have to leave tonight,” he said.

Crystal started to cry. “Who's going to take care of us?”

“You are. I'm leaving one of the guns we got from the guys who attacked you.”

DJ spent a few minutes showing Crystal how to use the Desert Eagle. He knew it was way too big for her hands, but she should be able to scare a few goblins with it. There wasn't much ammo; otherwise he probably would have taken it himself, but it was better than nothing. She cried the whole time he was showing her how to load, unload, and shoot the huge handgun, but hopefully she'd remember. When he was done, he went to his room and started carrying his gear out to the quad and securing it in place.

He was on one of his last trips when Crystal met him at the door.

“Please stay, DJ,” she pleaded. “I'll do anything.”

“Anything?” His mind went into overdrive.

She blushed. “Well, not that, but almost anything,” she said quietly.

“Look, Crystal, I have everything I need where I'm going. Everything but one thing,” he said with emphasis. “Now, if you're willing to give me what I don't have, then we can talk about me staying. Otherwise, I have to go.”

She stared at him blankly. After a moment, he pushed past her and went into his room. He picked up what was left of his stuff. It was more than he would normally carry, but he didn't want to face her again. When he turned toward the door, she was standing there looking at him.

“Okay,” she whispered, a tear running down her face.

“Okay what?” he said a split second before he realized what she meant.

“I'll do it. Just let me put Nancy to bed first.”

It was all DJ could do not to drop the armload of gear and rub his hands together like a hungry man sitting down to Thanksgiving dinner.

* * *

“Dinner's almost ready,” Jane called into the living room.

“All right,” Gabe said. “Robby and I are almost finished cleaning our rifles. We'll be right there.”

Jane heard them zipping up the rifle cases and then tromping into the bathroom to wash up. She smiled. Robby had long needed some male guidance. She hoped Gabe would remain the man he'd become and that he'd help Robby become the man she knew he could be.

* * *

DJ was waiting outside Nancy's door when Crystal came out. She turned and headed for her bedroom without saying a word or even acknowledging his presence with her eyes. He closed and locked the door behind him. She stood silently by the bed. He wrapped his arms around her and began to kiss her. She didn't return the kiss.

I guess she doesn't want any foreplay
.

He pushed her down onto the bed.

* * *

Jane was washing, and Gabe was drying and putting away. Dinner had been good. The fried squirrel was a little tough, but at least it was different. Jane promised that if the guys would get more, she'd cook them slowly to tenderize them and make squirrel and dumplings. Gabe and Robby promised to go hunting again as soon as possible.

“How do you think the meeting will go tomorrow?” Gabe asked.

“What do you mean?” Jane replied.

“Do you think the small groups will have plans for the things we talked about?”

“I'm sure they will be. The question is whether they'll be acceptable to the whole group.”

“I guess so,” Gabe said. “I hope they are.”

“I'm sure they will be. It seems like you got some good people to work on the committees.”

“Yeah. I hope one of them will step up and take over the meetings. I think that army captain would make a good leader.”

“I guess,” Jane said, as if her mind were somewhere else. “So, are you spending the night here?”

“I don't think it's a good idea. People might get the wrong idea about what's going on with us.”

“And what is going on with us?” she asked with a coy smile.

“I guess we're kind of going together.”

“Wow! How romantic. You really know how to sweep a girl off her feet.”

“You know what I mean,” Gabe said.

“I guess I do, but it's not like we're in high school, Gabe. If you spend the night over here on the couch, what difference does it make?”

Gabe had to admit that she had a point, but somehow he just wasn't comfortable with it. “I see what you mean,” he said, “but I think it's best if we just sleep in our own homes for now.”

“Whatever you want, Gabe.” She seemed agreeable, but Gabe couldn't help wondering if he'd hurt her feelings.

* * *

DJ picked up the last armload of his stuff out of the guest room. She was nuts if she thought he was going to stay if that was what he could expect. She had just lain on the bed like a dead fish. Sure, it was better than nothing, but not much. He'd built up in his mind that she would be so good, and then it was as if she weren't even in the room.

He carried the stuff out to his quad and strapped it into place. He looked at his gear. Everything seemed to be there. It wasn't quite dark, but it would be in ten or fifteen minutes. He thought about going ahead and leaving, but it wouldn't do for someone to witness him leave on his quad. It might give the law too much to go on.

He decided to recheck everything since he had a few minutes. He heard the door open behind him.

“What are you doing?” Crystal said.

“I'm leaving.”

“But you promised you'd stay.”

“I never promised,” he said.

“But—but I did what you asked me.” Tears began to run down her cheeks.

“Yeah, right! That was horrible, Crystal. It's no wonder Roger hasn't come home. He's probably shacked up with some little truck stop tramp who really knows how to screw.”

DJ smiled as he saw her eyes open wide and the tears suddenly stop. All the color blanched from her face as what he said sank in. She turned and ran into the house.

She deserved it. She was no better than a used car salesman, selling him on some fancy sports car that looks great on the outside but has all kinds of mechanical problems and barely runs.

He checked the sky again. The pink was turning to purple. It wouldn't be long now. He climbed onto the big four-wheeler and fired up the motor. It would feel good to be on his way again. He was about to put the machine into gear when he heard the shot.

* * *

Gabe looked at the gas gauge. It read a quarter of a tank. He should go to town and get some soon, he thought. Maybe he'd invite Jane to go with him. It would be kind of like a date. Well, not really, but at least they'd be spending time together. Maybe it would somewhat make up for him not staying the night as she wanted.

As he thought about the gas, he realized he really shouldn't be driving from his house to hers so much. He'd have to start walking more and save the gas.

His thoughts turned to the farmers' market. He had lots of stuff ready to trade in the morning. He wondered what and how much he might trade for. Other than what he grew, he didn't have much food in the house. He was well aware that whatever he got would be a good trade.

* * *

DJ turned off the bike and pulled his pistol out of the holster almost without thinking. He slowly pushed open the door, watching and listening for a moment, his mind going a million miles a minute. He made out rustling toward the back of the house, and then Nancy's voice could be heard.

“Mommy, Mommy, are you okay?”

A second later, DJ heard the little girl begin to cry. He crept down the hall to her room and looked in with the aid of his flashlight, but she wasn't there. He moved down to Crystal's room and peered around the corner.

Crystal was sitting on the bed with the enormous pistol in her hand. She was just staring at the wall in front of her, unresponsive to Nancy's pleadings. DJ saw a hole in the ceiling. Its location indicated that she probably hadn't tried to harm herself. More than likely it was a ruse to get his attention. Well, he wasn't going to leave her a weapon if she had any thoughts of hurting herself. He walked over to retrieve the monstrosity and she looked at him. He could see the hate burning in her eyes. She lifted the handgun and swept DJ with the muzzle.

He realized she probably had no intention of shooting him, but he couldn't take a chance. His left hand came down in a karate chop on her right wrist. The gun went flying across the room and crashed into the dresser mirror. His right hand came across to push her down, but he ended up hitting her harder than he intended. She fell over and hit her head on the footboard of the bed.

Nancy retreated into a corner and began to cry. “You hit my mommy,” he barely made out between the sobs.

“No, sweetie, I pushed her to make sure she didn't hurt us with the gun.”

She cried something else, but he could only make out the word “bad.” He started to explain to her that it was only an accident, but before he got halfway done, he realized there was little point in justifying himself to a five-year-old. He turned back to Crystal.

She was still lying in the same position she had landed in. He turned her over and she appeared unconscious. He reached down and checked her neck for a pulse. It was strong. He walked over to retrieve the pistol and saw that it had cracked the mirror at chest level. His reflection was disjointed and looked monsterlike. He chuckled to himself.
I hope this doesn't bring me seven years of bad luck,
he thought.

He walked out to his bike and stowed the pistol in his gear. A minute later he was driving down the road. He felt bad about hitting Crystal and leaving this way, but what choice did he have? The more he thought about what had happened, the angrier he became.
Stupid bitch,
he thought,
she probably got what she deserved
.

CHAPTER 24

G
abe woke up before daylight with the meeting on his mind. How would it go? Would the solutions the groups came up with be acceptable to everyone? Would Paul Lozano, the former army captain, assume command? If not, who would? This last question concerned Gabe more than the others. He didn't like being in front of all those people.

When he couldn't will his mind to slow down enough to get a little more sleep, he decided to get up. He got out of bed, dressed, and fixed a quick breakfast. By the time he was finished eating, the sky was just showing the first hints of dawn. There was an hour or so before he had to be at the farmers' market at the church. He could see if there was anything ripe enough to add to his produce. He went outside and headed to the garden.

* * *

DJ could see the sky getting light. He'd pushed hard all night and had gone faster than he would have liked. The GPS said it was still a few miles to the spot he wanted to reach. It was back on his original route, and more important, it was across two county lines from Crystal's house. DJ didn't know what kinds of communications were still available to law enforcement, but he figured it was likely that the sheriff where Crystal lived would only contact the surrounding counties. He wondered if Crystal had gone to the neighbors' yet. He hoped not, but even if she had, chances were they wouldn't even be on their way to town yet.

He just needed another five or six minutes to get to his waypoint. He pressed a little harder on the throttle. The trip so far had been uneventful. He hadn't even seen another person or vehicle. He hoped there were no early-rising farmers who might spot him out and about.

A few minutes later, he came on a large patch of woods. It no doubt belonged to someone, but it appeared as if no one had been to it in years. It sat right next to the road, but was so overgrown you couldn't see into it more than a few yards. DJ slowed the bike and pulled through the ditch next to the old rusted fence. The barbed wire, much tougher when it was new, effortlessly yielded to his multitool. He eased the big bike into the thicket and soon was unable to see the road. There was a small, open spot he'd discovered on one of his scouting trips, and the GPS took him right to it. He unloaded what he needed, set up his tent, warmed up an MRE—he was running low. His hunger satisfied, he climbed into the tent for some sleep. Even though he wasn't as comfortable as he was in the guest room at Crystal's, he was soon asleep.

* * *

Gabe pulled into Jane's driveway and stopped the truck. The front screen door opened before he could get out of the car. She stood there, wiping her hands on her apron. He wondered what she was thinking. When he got out of the truck, her smile told him all he needed to know.

“Good morning,” she said.

“Good morning to you, too. I thought you might be mad at me,” he said.

“For what?”

“You know, for not staying last night.”

She waved her hand. “Don't you worry, Gabriel Horne. If I'm mad at you, you'll know.”

Gabe recalled the time she'd been mad at him for the drunken words he'd spoken to Robby. Her feelings were more than obvious. He was glad they'd forgiven him. Most folks wouldn't have given him even the first chance when he was drinking, let alone a second chance.

“Are you ready to go?” he asked.

“Almost. Are we going in my truck or yours?”

“I think we should take mine since it uses less gas. I was thinking last night that we need to start being really careful with the gas we use. I don't know how long we'll be able to get more. I'm going to start walking unless I really need to take the truck.”

“Sounds like a plan to me. Maybe you should talk to all the neighbors at the meeting tonight about that,” Jane said.

“I'm sure most of them have already thought about it.”

“Perhaps, but it can't hurt to mention it. Robby is getting the tables and the canopy. Can you help him?”

“You bet,” Gabe said.

Soon the trio was at the church with eggs and vegetables displayed on the tables. It was a little slow at first, but by nine, people were starting to arrive in droves. It appeared that news of the market had spread beyond the small area Gabe considered the “neighborhood.” Even the preacher showed up. He lived in town but heard about the event. He eventually made his way to Gabe and introduced himself.

“Are you Mr. Horne?” he asked.

“Yes,” Gabe said.

“It's nice to meet you, Mr. Horne,” the short, stocky man said, extending his hand. “I'm Reverend Washington. I understand you organized the farmers' market.”

“No,” Gabe said, a little surprised that he'd been singled out as the planner. “We all just agreed to do it when we had a meeting here the other night. I'm sorry we didn't get permission to use the church, first, though. I hope you aren't upset.”

The pastor laughed. “No reason to apologize,” he said. “This is exactly what the church is for, to bring people together. In fact, I've tried for years to get the congregation to host something like this to involve us in the community. I couldn't get anyone interested. I guess it took a real crisis for it to happen, and no one from the church had a thing to do with it. I guess when people are ready, God will send a Moses.”

Gabe didn't fully comprehend what the preacher was saying and felt a little awkward, but he nodded politely.

“Is this your family?” Reverend Washington asked, nodding in Jane's and Robby's direction.

“Uh, no. This is my, uh, this is Mrs. Walker and her son, Robby. We're just friends.”

Jane shot Gabe a look.

“Oh, please forgive me. Mrs. Walker, are you the one who got shot?”

“Yes, Reverend.”

“I assume by your presence at this event that you're doing well.”

“I am. Thank you for asking,” Jane said as she shook the man's hand.

“That's good to hear. My, what a fine-looking young man you have there,” the preacher said, smiling at Robby.

“Thank you,” Robby said shyly.

There was an uncomfortable pause in the conversation. Gabe wondered what he could say, but no words came to mind. Finally the preacher broke the silence.

“I also heard you're the man to see about vegetables,” Reverend Washington said. “Someone told me to make sure to get some of your tomatoes. My wife puts up preserves. I brought a few jars, and I'd be glad to trade with you.”

“Sure thing. What do you need?” Gabe said, understanding the trading part. He grabbed a grocery bag and started stuffing it with vegetables.

“Well, I can use a little of everything, to be honest with you. I have some blackberry preserves and some peach. Which would you prefer?”

“Peach,” Gabe replied as he started filling another bag with tomatoes. He handed the two bags to the preacher.

“Mr. Horne, this is too much for just one jar of preserves. I insist that you take a blackberry, as well.”

“Thank you, Reverend. We'll really enjoy these.”

“As will I, Mr. Horne,” the man said with a smile as he lifted the two bags. “I heard you have another meeting planned for this evening. If you don't mind, I'd like to stick around for it. Would that be all right?”

A plan whirred in Gabe's head. “We'd be honored, Reverend.”

* * *

DJ woke up and stared at the top of his tent. He sat up and felt the stiffness in his back. This certainly wasn't the nice soft bed at Crystal's. He wondered if there'd be a bed for him at the retreat. Would Thomas forgive him? He might since they probably needed his expertise. Maybe he wasn't even married to Sheila anymore. There were too many possibilities to worry about it now. He'd just have to see what the situation was when he got there. Most likely, the rumor he'd heard was true and they had sold the place. Outside the tent, he pulled out his maps and his GPS. He knew exactly where he was, but he liked lining up the data from both sources and making sure. It also allowed him to see if there was something he'd missed before. That was highly unlikely, but he had nothing better to do.

He traced the route with his finger and estimated that he could make it in another two days. He'd need a little gas, but nothing else stood in his way. He thought about his retreat and how nice it would be to finally get there. Although he hadn't been in several years, he knew his large cache would still be there. Word had traveled through the grapevine that the group had put the property up for sale after he'd quit associating with them. He wished he would have been able to buy it, but there was no way he could afford it on his salary. If it hadn't sold, who knew whether some of them might be there? He'd bet that they'd be glad to see him now.

Hungry, DJ pulled out one of his last MREs. Using the included chemical heater, he warmed up the entrée while he ate the M&M's that were supposed to be dessert. He noticed a slight chill in the breeze and wondered if the weather was going to change. He hoped not, but if it did rain, it would only delay him a day or two at most. The wind switched directions for a moment and DJ smelled gasoline.

He walked over to the quad and opened the cap on the gas tank. It had the amount in it that he expected. He found that the smell was stronger at the back of the quad. He saw a small wet spot beneath the jerry can. Then he saw the drip. It was small but was no doubt the source of the smell. It had come from the bottom seam. He figured it must have happened when the trailer had been wrecked. He lifted the can and found that it was now way less than one-third full.

“Son of a bitch!” he yelled. He opened the top and looked inside. It held only about a gallon, maybe a gallon and a half. He poured it into the quad and threw the empty can against a tree. It bounced off harmlessly, taunting his anger. Walking over, he stomped on the side and was surprised that it only dented in a little. “Yeah, now you're tough, you piece of shit.”

DJ walked back over to where his entrée was heating and kicked it into the woods as hard as he could.

* * *

Gabe was pleased with how the market was going. Everyone seemed to be having a good time, and he'd made some good trades. Not only had he traded for beef with the Blakes and preserves with the preacher, but he'd swapped his vegetables for two boxes of .22 ammo, a folding skinning knife, some homemade candles, and a few other odds and ends. He'd also sold some vegetables outright for cash. A few of the people didn't have any money or anything he was interested in, but looked as if they could really use some fresh produce, so he gave quite a bit away. Jane was doing the same with her eggs, and it looked as though some of the other vendors were following suit.

Gabe was happy everything was going so smoothly. He had his revolver and rifle in the truck, just in case trouble showed up, but nothing bad happened. In fact, Deputy Armstrong came and made a few trades himself. He briefly spoke with Gabe, but he spent most of his time talking to the preacher before he resumed his patrol. Gabe wondered what the two men were talking about for so long. It was probable that the deputy was a member of the church. Gabe didn't really know since, even though he could see the church from his place, he was usually too drunk or passed out to notice who was there on Sunday mornings. Gabe did know that Deputy Armstrong had always treated him with more respect than most of the white deputies had.

By three, the market was winding down, and soon Jane, Robby, and Gabe folded up their tables and headed back to Gabe's house for a late lunch.

Jane fried up some steaks she'd acquired, Gabe made a salad with the little produce he hadn't sold, and Robby set the table. The three of them sat down to eat, giving thanks for the bounty they had.

After lunch, Robby and Gabe decided to try their luck at rabbit hunting. They took their rifles and walked to the back of Gabe's fifty acres. Gabe was pleased to see Robby carefully following the safety rules. The young man raised his rifle and shot. Gabe hadn't seen the rabbit until Robby fired, but the report of the .22 kicked the animal into high gear, and Gabe saw him disappear into the woods.

“I missed,” Robby said.

“You shot too fast,” Gabe said. “Always take your time. Aim for something specific, like the eye. That's a good target on a rabbit.”

Robby nodded, and the two continued their hunt. A few minutes later, Robby spoke again.

“Thanks for teaching me to hunt, Mr. Horne. I always hoped my dad would show me, but he was too busy.”

“You're more than welcome, Robby,” Gabe said.

The boy had a pensive look on his face for a long moment. He finally spoke. “Are you and my mom going to get married?”

Gabe was dumbfounded for a minute. “Why would you ask that?”

“I don't know. I've seen you guys kissing a few times, and I was just wondering.”

“Well, you don't have to worry about that right now, Robby. Your mom and I are just kind of dating. You know, getting to know each other. I think it will be a while before we're ready to think about marriage.”

“I understand,” the boy said. “I just wanted you to know it's all right with me if you do decide to get married.”

Gabe would have laughed if Robby hadn't been so serious. “Tell you what, if we do decide, you'll be the first to know. Okay?”

“Okay.”

The pair continued their hunt for another hour or so, but they didn't see any other rabbits so they decided to head back. It was about time to get ready for the meeting anyway. Jane was disappointed that they came back empty-handed, but she still promised them a good dinner after the meeting.

The preacher was already there when they arrived. Gabe walked up and shook the man's hand. “Thanks for staying, Pastor. I was wondering if you'd be so kind as to chair the meeting tonight.”

“I'm honored you would ask, Mr. Horne, but this is a meeting for the residents of this community, and it should be led by one of the residents.”