What Follows After: A Novel (30 page)

Now look at what they made him do.

The groceries had spilled all over the front seat of his truck. Some items fell out of the bags and rolled onto the floor. And look, August thought, they weren’t even teenagers. Old enough to have a kid in the backseat. He had just pulled up to the stop sign on his way home, to find a car all but parked there with a couple making out in the front seat. He had to blow his horn to get them to break it up.

What was the world coming to? Maybe it needed blowing up.

August drove through the intersection and pulled off to the side of the road to clean up the mess. That was when he noticed something. He had forgotten to buy milk. Dang, now he’d have to go back to the store just for that. Wasn’t only for the boy’s cereal; he needed it for his coffee too. A few months ago, the milkman had stopped coming out to the houses by the lake. He still wasn’t in the habit of buying his dairy at the supermarket.

After getting things sorted out, he turned the truck around and headed back the way he came.

Colt’s father had followed the directions Etta Mae had given him through Lake Helen and out to the property by the lake. He’d driven extra slow. Didn’t want to take a chance of getting a speeding ticket. Colt had never seen such a small town before. Barely even seemed big enough to be called a town.

As they pulled into the dirt driveway, his mom said she agreed with Mamie Lee that a full-fledged miracle was underway. If God hadn’t set things up to bring Etta Mae out here the way he did, no one would’ve ever thought to look here. They’d have lost Timmy for good.

“Is that the house?” Colt asked, pointing to the house next door. “The green one?”

“I think it is,” his father said. “And that room in the back there, that must be where Timmy is right now.”

“I don’t see the man’s truck anywhere,” his mom said.

“Me either.” They stopped the car, turned off the ignition, and got out.

It was eerie and strange for Colt. The whole thing was, but especially seeing a pistol in his father’s hand.

“I’ve got to do something,” his father said. “I can’t just leave Timmy sitting in that dark room like this. He’s been in there over two hours already.”

“What are you going to do?” his mom said.

“I don’t know. But I want to talk to him at least, let him know we’re here to get him out, so he won’t be so afraid.”

“But what if the guy comes back?” Colt said.

“Maybe he will. But he’ll be driving in from the front if he does get home. And I’ll be way in the back where Timmy is. He won’t see me. I’ll wait till I hear him go in the front door, then I’ll run back here and wait for the FBI to arrive. You guys go inside, meet with Etta Mae and the owner of this house, tell them what I’m doing.”

“But what if you don’t hear his pickup truck when he comes home?” Colt’s mom said.

“I’m sure I’ll hear it. Most trucks are pretty noisy. But even if I don’t, I’ve got a gun. It’s been awhile, but I’m pretty good with it. Now you two go inside. I won’t be long.”

Maybe it was adrenaline, maybe it was the grace of God, but Scott didn’t feel an ounce of fear as he approached the house. If anything, he felt bold as a lion. He walked straight to the back porch and noticed that the right side had been enclosed to form a storage room.

His little boy was in there. “Thank you, Lord, for bringing me here,” he whispered. “For helping us find Timmy.”

He climbed the steps and went inside the porch, noticed right off the padlock and chain around the door. Putting his ear to the door, he listened a few moments. He didn’t hear a sound. “Timmy, are you in there? It’s Dad.” Still no reply. Scott knocked on the door a few times and repeated the same words.

Finally, that wonderful voice.

“Dad? Is that really you?”

Scott’s eyes filled with tears. “I’m here, son. We’re here to get you out.”

“It’s so dark in here. I can’t see anything.”

“I know, Timmy. But you’re going to be okay. I’m not leaving here without you.”

“Can’t you get me out now?”

Scott thought about it. The only thing he could do was shoot the lock. They did that all the time in the movies. In the movies, it always worked. But he had no idea where the bullet would go in real life. He couldn’t take a chance of it hurting Timmy. “I can’t
right now, Timmy. I can’t break the lock. But the FBI will be here any minute. I’m sure they’ll know how we can get this door open.”

Then Scott remembered something. On his way over here, he’d run past a pile of cut logs and an axe leaning up against a tree. “I’m going to try something, Timmy. I’m going to go but just for a moment. To get an axe. I’ll be right back.”

“Okay. Is that man who took me here now?”

“No, he’s still gone. Do you know where he went?”

“He said he was going to a few stores and he’d be gone awhile. He’s very mean, Daddy. He pulls me around and hurts my arm. And he calls me Bobby, even though I told him my name. And he keeps putting me in this place.” Timmy began to cry. “Please get me out.”

“I will, son. Let me see if getting that axe will help.”

Colt had to do something. Right now. The man was coming back.

He and his mom, along with Etta Mae and a woman with binoculars who said her name was Josephine, had all been looking out the dining room windows at the house next door. Colt had watched his dad run to the back porch and go inside. Then he came back out and headed this way. He picked up an axe and had just now gone back into the porch with it.

“He’s probably gonna use it to bust that lock,” Etta Mae said.

Just then, the man who lived there drove up in his pickup truck.

“Oh my,” Josephine said. “It’s August.”

He got out of his truck and walked to the front door.

“Get out of there, Scott,” Colt’s mom said.

Everyone looked toward the back porch, but he still hadn’t come out.

“Why isn’t he getting out of there?” Josephine said.

“He must not have heard the truck drive up.”

“August is inside the house,” Josephine said. “If he sees your husband back there, I think he might kill him.”

That was all Colt needed. He ran outside, down the back steps, then as fast as he could, across the yard toward the room where Timmy was. Just as he came around the corner, he saw his father through the screen lifting the axe, his eyes fixed on that padlock. “Dad, Dad,” he whispered. “The man’s home. Didn’t you hear him drive up?”

“No, I didn’t.”

“He’s already in the living room.”

“Then we better get out of here.” He leaned up close to the door. “Timmy, we’ll be back in a few minutes when the FBI gets here.”

“Okay.”

“It won’t be long, I promise.”

Colt and his father began running down the stairs and into the backyard. The screen door slapped shut behind them. They’d forgotten not to let it slam. Even though his dad carried the axe, he ran faster than Colt. Suddenly, Colt tripped on an oak root and fell flat on his face. He looked up, saw his dad stop about fifteen feet ahead. He turned around and immediately pointed his pistol.

Colt heard a voice behind him, very close. “I wouldn’t do that.” Then, “Get up, boy.” Colt turned around and looked up into a double-barreled shotgun pointed right at his head.

“What are you doing on my property?”

Colt didn’t know what to say; he waited for his dad to answer. His legs began to shake.

“I asked you a question. What are you two doing on my property?” The man stepped closer, still aiming the gun at Colt.

“Lower that shotgun right now,” his father said, “or I’ll put a bullet in your forehead.”

Colt turned and saw his father pointing his pistol at the man’s head. The axe lay at his feet. Colt could see in his father’s eyes, he meant every word.

“I don’t think you’re going to do that,” the man said. “You do, and the last thing I’ll do is squeeze this trigger with this shotgun pointed right at your son. Assuming he is your boy.”

“He is. And so is that other little boy you’ve got locked in that room over there. The one you stole from my wife and me on Monday.”

“That ain’t your boy in there. That’s Bobby. My boy.”

“His name’s not Bobby, you old fool. I don’t know what happened to your Bobby, but you and I both know that little boy you took is not him.”

Gina felt her heart beating in her head. She couldn’t believe the scene unfolding behind the house next door. A man was holding a shotgun on Colt, and Scott was pointing a pistol at the man.

“I can’t look,” Josephine said, lowering the binoculars.

Gina heard Etta Mae praying softly. Something black caught her eye out by the road.

“The FBI. They’re here,” Etta Mae said.

Gina ran out the front door. She continued running toward the car as it pulled into the long driveway next door, waving her hands frantically, pointing toward the back of the house. “It’s happening right now, outside, behind the house.”

“What is?” Vic said through the window. Nate stopped the car, and they got out.

“The kidnapper’s got a shotgun pointed at Colt. And Scott’s got a pistol pointed at him.”

Vic and Nate instantly drew their weapons and hurried toward the back of the house. “I’ll take this side,” Nate said, pointing to the right side of the house.

Vic was running toward the left side, the side closest to Josephine’s.

“Come here, young man.”

Colt looked at the man’s eyes and at the shotgun pointing at his head. Fear moved him to obey.

“Colt,” his father said, “don’t—”

But it was too late. As soon as Colt got close enough, the man grabbed his collar and dragged him closer.

“Now, you put down your pistol, unless you want to see your boy die.”

Everything that happened in the next few moments happened so fast.

“Put down that shotgun. Now!” A different voice. Colt recognized it. Vic’s voice, spoken from the back corner of the house. “This is the FBI. My partner has another gun trained at your head from the other corner of the house. Put the gun down now.”

Colt watched his father lower his pistol. He must’ve thought the FBI agents were talking to him. He also felt the man holding him move his arms, but it was clear he wasn’t lowering the shotgun. He was raising it, pointing it right at Colt’s father. Colt could tell he was just about to pull the trigger. Colt shoved the barrel of the gun upward with both hands, just as an explosion of fire and smoke erupted in front of his face.

It was quickly followed by a second, lesser gunshot. He could feel the bullet hitting the man with the shotgun, hear the sound of it tearing into his body. He was leaning into his side.

Colt’s father yelled out in pain.

The man did too and fell backward, dragging Colt to the ground with him. The shotgun fell out of his hands, and he loosened his grip on Colt. Colt jumped to his feet and ran toward his dad lying on the ground, just as the two FBI agents ran toward the kidnapper. “Dad!” he screamed. His dad’s right shoulder was covered in blood. Colt bent down beside him.

“I’m okay, Colt. I’m okay. It’s just my shoulder.”

“Scott, Scott!” his mom yelled as she came running from the side of the house. “You’re shot, you’re bleeding!”

“It’s just my shoulder,” he said, sitting up. “I think that’s all.”

Now that his mother was there, Colt’s mind went straight for his little brother. He picked up the axe lying beside his father. Vic and Nate were pulling the kidnapper to his feet. He had blood all over his other shoulder.

“You’re lucky that boy pushed you,” Nate said to him. “Or you
wouldn’t be standing up right now. We’d be waiting on the coroner. That shot in your shoulder was meant for your head.”

The man didn’t respond. He winced as Nate put on the handcuffs. “This may hurt a little,” Nate said. “But I’m okay with that.”

Colt wondered how Timmy was doing. He hadn’t made a sound since all this commotion had begun. Colt headed toward the back porch, carrying the axe.

“Where you going, Colt?” Vic asked.

“To get my little brother.”

“Wait a minute. I’ll go with you, but we won’t need that axe. Let me show you how the FBI does it.”

Just then, Etta Mae came running out from the house next door. “Ambulance is on its way,” she yelled. “I just called them.”

“Better make that two,” Nate yelled back.

Colt followed Vic up the back porch steps and through the screen door. He banged on the door leading to the storage room. “We got the bad guy, Timmy. The FBI’s here. We’re going to get you out.”

“Better step back, Colt.” Vic got close to the door. “Timmy, if you can hear me, get as close to the back wall as you can. When I count to three, I’m going to shoot off this lock. But that’s all I’m doing. You won’t get hurt if you just stay back against the wall. Okay?”

Colt didn’t hear Timmy’s reply. But he knew Timmy could hear him.

“Listen up, everyone.” Vic now directed his words to those in the backyard. “You’re going to hear another gunshot. I’m just shooting off the padlock.”

Colt covered his ears as Vic pointed the gun at the lock. He heard a muffled “one, two, three,” then
boom
. The lock fell apart, then
it and the chain fell to the floor. Vic opened the door. Colt looked inside. It was black as night. “Can I go get him?”

“You can just call him,” Vic said.

“No, I can’t. He won’t come out. He’s too scared. Can I go in and get him?”

“Sure.”

Colt stepped inside. It felt colder in here too. “Timmy?” he whispered. “It’s me, Colt. You’re safe now. It’s all over. That man can’t hurt you anymore. I’m here to take you home.”

He looked toward the darkness. Seemed to go on forever, like a black tunnel burrowing into a deep cave. His poor little brother. He hated the dark way more than Colt did. “It’s me, Timmy.”

“I’m back here,” Timmy whispered.

“You’re safe now. You don’t have to whisper.” Colt reached out his hand. It was so dark he couldn’t even see the end of it. But a few steps more, and he felt Timmy’s arm.

He was shaking. Not just his arm, but all over.

Colt hurried toward him, grabbed him with both arms, and pulled him close. “I’ve got you now.” He began to cry. “I’m so sorry I left you all alone back at that restaurant. And I’m so sorry that man took you. But everything’s okay now. Mom and Dad are even back together again. I don’t know what happened. But Dad is moving back home. They’re even kissing again.” He held him a few moments more until Timmy stopped shaking. “I won’t ever leave you alone again, Timmy.”

Etta Mae had come over now, bringing some towels. She was pressing one against the wound in Scott’s shoulder. She had handed the other to Nate, saying he could do the same to the kidnapper if he wanted. She called the man “August.”

Gina had jumped when she heard the gunshot on the back porch, even though Vic had warned them all to expect it. But now that she knew Scott was safe and the ambulance was on its way, she wanted to see her little boy.

She squeezed Scott’s hand. “I’m going to be with Timmy now, okay?”

Scott winced in pain. “Definitely. Give him a hug for me. But maybe he shouldn’t see me like this, after all he’s been through. All this blood.”

“All right. I’ll keep him on the porch until the ambulance arrives.”

“After they put him on the gurney,” Etta Mae said, “they’ll probably cover your husband with a blanket. You can probably bring your boy out to see his daddy before they drive away.”

“I’ll do that, Etta Mae. I don’t know how we can ever thank you . . . or Josephine.”

“No need to thank me, Miss Gina. God made all this happen. Only thing that could explain it. I’m just so happy he let me be a part. I can’t wait to tell Mamie Lee the news. She been worried something awful this past week. And not about the world blowing up, either. Just about you all and your little boy. She was hurtin’ like it was her own kin.”

“It was her kin,” Scott said. “Will you tell her I said that?”

“I will, Mister Scott,” Etta Mae said, tears welling up in her eyes.

“Please, Etta Mae. Just call me Scott. After today, as far as I’m concerned, you’re kin too.”

Gina leaned over and kissed Scott on the lips. Then she got up and walked toward the back porch. She opened the screen door but didn’t see Colt or Timmy. Just Vic near the open door leading to the storage room. It looked like he was blinking back tears.

“That’s one special young man you’ve got there, Mrs. Harrison.”

She stood at the halfway point between the screen door and the
open doorway. A moment later she heard footsteps. Then her two little boys appeared from out of the shadows.

Timmy was leaning tightly against Colt, Colt’s left arm around his shoulder. Timmy’s eyes were closed. “Look, Timmy, Mommy’s here.”

His eyes opened, and he turned and looked at Gina’s face. Colt let him go. She bent down and held out her arms. Timmy ran right to her and squeezed her with all his might. She wrapped her arms around him, buried her head in his little shoulder, and cried.

“Mommy,” she heard him say through his own muffled tears.

“I’m here, Timmy. Mommy’s here.”