Jack County Demons (4 page)

LT walked back toward his friends. As he passed the parked cars, he heard a slight noise behind him. Turning just in time, LT saw the attendant standing at the entrance. The man hurried, locking the door and turning the OPEN sign around. Now it read CLOSED.

That's odd, LT thought. He continued on, crossing the gravel lot. Looking to his left, he saw the same two onlookers, the two bikers, staring at him. They hadn't moved from their position. The men eyed him cautiously, though, watching LT's every step.

LT squeezed by the gas pump, nodding to Red who picked up the handle and began filling his motorcycle with gasoline.

"You were in there long enough," Red said. "Making new friends?"

"Something like that. Odd
guy, that's for sure," LT replied, turning back. Inside, the store was still lit up. LT could also clearly see the attendant, who was back behind the counter, on his cell phone. By his motions, the attendant was animated while he spoke. Something was amiss, and LT wondered what it was.

Red also noticed. "Think it's a setup? Maybe we'll get robbed," he suggested. He also laughed at the notion of anyone attempting to rob them.

"Not sure. I don't think so, though. There's something odd about these parts. The Commander was right about that. There's something here that just doesn't sit right with me. That attendant is either serious, or quite the actor. Kept going on about how dangerous it is here."

"Luckily, we live for danger," Red said.

"Roger that," LT said, nodding.

Three minutes later and Red was finished fueling. He kicked up the stand
and rolled his motorcycle out of the way. Whisky was next, taking a few minutes to fuel his bike too. Then, he did the same, and moved his own so LT could fuel his.

They were finally done. The trio remained a bit longer. They kept thei
r eyes open, glancing from the two tough looking hombres guarding the motorcycles, to the gas station where the attendant was kicking people out and shutting off the lights. Not long after and the station was officially closed, the attendant disappearing into the darkness of the store.

"Bout ready?" LT asked his companions. "We still have some ground to cover before it gets lig
ht."

They nodded, preparing to mount their motorcycles. Then, as
if on cue, they saw headlights in the distance. The men remained standing, watching the approaching truck, hands carefully near their concealed pistols in case this was indeed a robbery.

"Looks like a cop. This town isn't big, so I'm gue
ssing it's the county sheriff."

He was correct
with this guess. Just as they were about to leave, a sheriff's truck came cruising up. It moved slowly, almost without purpose. That is, until the truck swung into the lot from the roadway, pulling up directly behind LT and his men.

"Keep yer hands were I can see them, boys," the
sheriff said. It was no request. The sheriff was a big man, round in the midsection, yet menacing in his own way. He was no stranger to violence, often having to use it in these parts.

"Don't have anything to worry about, sheriff. Never been a fan of
weapons," LT commented, slowly raising his hands. "We're unarmed. Don't want no trouble."

"Good," the sheriff said. He sauntered up, almost strutting. The man's han
ds were at his belt, his right within inches of his pistol. "In these parts, one can never be too careful. Closest thing to backup is an hour away."

"Pretty empty in these parts
?" LT asked.

"Doesn't mean we're without trouble in Jack County. We have our fair
share of crime, just like any other place. Out here, people get bored. Boredom leads to crime."

"Makes sense, I suppose," LT replied. "Now what
can I do for you, officer?"

"ID?"

"Really?"

"Yup."

"What for?" LT asked.

"Forty-eight hours in the slammer is what for," the sheri
ff replied harshly. His entire demeanor changed. He bowed out his chest, standing firm, eyeing LT as if he were a criminal.

LT thought on it a moment, then decided to comply. He slowly
reached back into his pocket, pulling out his ID and handing it over. He turned to Red and Whisky, nodding his head.

They reluctantly did the same. Who is this guy?
They all thought. If he even knew who they were, or what they were capable of, he'd never mess with them.

"Small towns
?" LT said under his breath. "Guessing this is a shakedown?"

"Nonsense," the sheriff replied, looking at his ID intently. "
I just don't know who you are."

"And you need to know who we are?" Red asked. He hated fascism.

"Sure do. You see, we get lots of smuggling activities in this area. Like I said, boredom leads to crime in these parts. Drugs, gun running, lots of things."

"We're just passing through," Red protested. "Stopped to get
gas and a drink."

"That's funny," the sheriff began, looking up. "Not what the attenda
nt said. He said you boys were headed here, to Jack County. Is he lying? And before you answer, I've known him most my life."

"Son-of-a-bitch," LT muttered, shaking his head and looking to the direc
tion of the gas station. "That pussy called you, didn't he?"

"Not your concern, really," the sheriff replied.

"He did. That bastard. I was nice to him, too."

"Even nice guys commit crimes, Mister Stevens. That is your name, right
? Stevens?" the sheriff asked, looking at LT's fake ID.

LT nodded.

"Good. Well, if you boys will stay put, I'll be right back. Keep your hands out of your pockets where I can see 'em."

"We're sort of on a time crunch," LT said. "Where you going
with our IDs?"

"Warrant check," the sheriff replied. "But don't get your panties in a w
ad, nor go calling the ACLU. I check up on all outsiders. Won't take a minute. That is, unless you boys want to tell me something?" he asked, eyeing them with raised eyebrows.

They said nothing.

After a moment, the sheriff nodded, then walked back to his patrol car. He opened the door, hoisted his fat frame halfway into the driver's seat. He kept the door open, a careful eye on the three men, and began to type in the information.

The ground was dry and brittle. The area hadn't seen rain in weeks.
Dust was everywhere, and even the nights were too damn hot.

The team rode their bikes down the long road. They had been at it for a few hours, and their l
egs and backs began to hurt. Still, they kept going, pushing on.

Finally, they could see a town in the distance. They rode up a large hi
ll, pulling to the side of the road. Dismounting their bikes, the team stood on the side of the road, staring down at the lonely town. It was isolated, and quiet. There wasn't much movement. A few cars, a handful of people here and there. For the most part, this town offered little, if anything. A few stores, two gas stations, two motels.

They continued to inspect the town until they were satisfied. LT
motioned to the men, and they nodded, jumping back on their bikes and rolling on down the hill. Three minutes later and they arrived, pulling into an open parking lot of the nearest motel. It was the type that had the doors on the outside with two levels. It was run down, and nowhere near capacity.

"This will do," LT said.

The motel was in fair condition. A bit run down, but everything in this town was. It was a quiet place, and offered sixty-four rooms. Fifty-nine were vacant.

This didn't surprise LT. He pushed out the kickstand and turned off
his motorcycle. Sitting for a moment, he looked around, taking the place in. The motel was L-shaped, the kind where the rooms were on the outside. It was two stories tall, and had a big parking lot. They had parked away from the building, under one of only four working lights.

Red got off his bike, stretched a bit, and walked toward the office
. He entered the lobby, a bell chiming as he did so. He walked past a concessions stand with a sign that read 'Free breakfast, 6-9am.
'

Red turned a corner, facing the main desk. There was nobody in s
ight. He waited a moment, then waited longer. Nothing. Then, he cleared his throat.

Still nothing.

Finally he saw a small bell. He tapped it twice. Even then there was no response right away. He waited a bit longer, and just before he rang it again, a frumpy, middle-aged woman hurried around the corner.

"So sorry, I didn't hear you," she said with a pleasant smile. Her name was Irene
. She seemed friendly enough. Better yet, she didn't ask a million questions. This surprised Red. After the gas station, and the sheriff, he figured everyone in a small town pressed for answers. It was the way of small town people. They felt the need to poke and prod. They felt it was their right to know. And perhaps it was. Red figured it made sense. This was their town. He was the stranger. The outsider.

Red chatted with Irene a bit. Friendly, casual talk about the weather, mostly. She clicked aw
ay on a register that she obviously didn't know how to work, and a few minutes later he paid for three rooms. Again, she asked no questions. Didn't seem concerned as to who was staying in her motel, only happy to receive the business.

"Remember, free breakfast from six to nine," she
said with a wave and a smile.

Ten minutes after entering and Red was leaving the lobby, thre
e room keys in hand. He walked outside, turning left, headed to his awaiting team. He noticed a new car had parked since he went in. It was occupied, and he glanced up, checking out the passengers. It was an old habit, something he learned from years of being on the SEAL teams. It was threat assessment, and he did so by habit.

Inside the red car were four women. He began to pass by, and as he di
d, one waved. The woman in the driver's seat smiled wide, and Red couldn't help but to return the favor.

"Hi, baby!" she said through the open window.

Red stopped in his tracks, nearly staring. He couldn't help himself. The woman was quite attractive. She had curly brown hair, big lips, and tons of cleavage. She wore a big smile, and though a bit too much makeup for his taste, she was a looker for sure. He grinned, and then looked back behind him, making sure she wasn't talking to someone else. Realizing she wasn't, he looked her in the eyes, though he struggled not to stare at her tits, and mumbled, "Hi there."

"Never seen you in these parts, hun. You new to
town?" she asked.

"Passing through."

"I see. You're sticking out, that's for sure," she said, giggling.

"How's that, exactly?"

"Babe, we got mostly toothless country boys in these parts. You look . . . distinguished. Sexy, too." The woman grinned again, this time leaning forward against the open window, pushing her tits out as far as she could.

Red couldn't help but gawk. It wasn't his style to stare like this, but
this woman clearly wanted him to.

"You like?" she asked.

"Actually, I do."

"Now, what's a man like yourself doing in a town like this?" she asked, genuinely c
urious. "You must be lost," she joked.

"Ha! No ma'am, I'm not lost. Just passing through. Came in with my pals.
They're right over there," Red said, pointing.

The woman turned to
look. Meanwhile, Red took the time to look at the other three inside. They were all dolled up. Sexy clothing, lots of makeup and perfume. The car hosted four woman total, all different races, different flavors.

My lucky night, Red thought to himself.

The woman in the driver's seat turned back. "Just you three boys?" she asked.

"That's not enough for you?" he played.

"Not what I meant, hun. You on a family vacation, or is it boys' night out?"

"I . . . I don't follow," he admitted.

Keeping her patience, and her smile, she replied, "You with your wives, darling? That's what I'm getting at. Don't need no jealous girlfriend wanting to fight me for talking to you."

"Ohhh, okay," Red said, finally understanding. He was a bit embar
rassed. It was just; he wasn't accustomed to such open flirtation. This woman was forward. He was enjoying it, that's for sure, but it was new to him.

"Don't be embarrassed, darling," she said. "Was just c
urious if you're alone or not."

"I am," he said. "Alone, that is. Well, the boys are with me,
but no wives. No girlfriends."

"Good news," she said, smiling. "Baby, are you feeling lucky tonight? C
ause I sure am. My girls and I are plenty bored. Nothing around here to do. And can you believe it, we got stood up! Our boyfriends decided they'd rather drink beer than hang with us. Don't worry none. They are two towns over. No clue we're here, either."

"Oh, I'm not worried," Red said, smiling. And he wasn't. Any member of
the teams wouldn't be worried about civilians.