Payback: Alone: Book 7 Page 13

  If he’d seen someone he’d have moved again. A bit farther up the highway, to a more desolate place.

  Had he looked east, then west, and simply not seen the obvious? Had he been so exhausted from the long night of driving he simply hadn’t seen someone watching him?

  In the end it didn’t matter what mistake he made, or what circumstances under which he made it. The deed was done, the results the same.

  If Dave was a vengeful man he’d have taken solace in knowing his robbers didn’t live long enough to enjoy their new treasure.

  Dave had reasoned that driving the Explorer in the daytime was a fool’s game and had refused to do so.

  Skaggs and Rocky weren’t that smart and drove their new ride in full daylight, for all the world to see.

  Most people were so startled to see a working vehicle driving past it never occurred to them to try to stop it.

  They finally met their maker at the hands of a man standing on a ridge adjacent to the highway, hunting for rabbits.

  A far better than average shot, he fired a round through the windshield and into Rocky’s chest. The vehicle slowly rolled to a stop and bumped against the back of a Chevrolet Equinox.

  Skaggs, unsure where the shot had come from, scrambled out and tried to take cover but wasn’t quick enough.

  For a man used to shooting rabbits for his supper, shooting a man-sized target at fifty yards was a piece of cake.

  Skaggs took a head shot and was dead before he hit the pavement.

  The shooter knew he’d found a much better prize than any rabbit. He abandoned his hunt and scurried down to the highway, then took off in his new treasure.

  As he saw it, the two men he’d shot made their mistake by driving too slowly. In slowly trying to work their way around all the obstacles in the roadway, they’d made themselves an easy target.

  He drove much faster, but not for long.

  Just miles up the road he rounded a curve to find both lanes blocked and had to swerve.

  At forty miles an hour he lost control and went off the highway, down a steep embankment, and rolled several times.

  He was tossed out of the vehicle and crushed to death as it rolled over him.

  It seemed lady Karma was working overtime on this particular day.

  One thing Dave missed the most were the weapons he’d stashed in his Explorer’s cargo bay, beneath some food and water and several blankets.

  He still had his rifle and handgun, and three fully loaded magazines for each. But everything else was lost.

  The irony was he’d pass within a hundred yards of those weapons two days later. But he’d never know it.

  Because really, who’d expect him to look over the side of a ravine as he walked past it?

  Chapter 38

  Inside their bunker the Dykes brothers prepared for war.

  They didn’t know who was out there or why. But the fact one of them had activated one of their booby traps told them they’d been prowling around.

  And that surely meant they weren’t just friendly neighbors trying to give them an invitation for Sunday brunch.

  It was Mason Dykes, who, at a brainstorming session several months before regarding security, had suggested they take another look at the ventilation ports.

  “If we don’t do something, aggressors can drop damn near anything down into those ports. Sticks of dynamite, poison gas, smoke grenades… anything at all.”

  Their solution had been three fold.

  First, they took heavy steel mesh and cut it to the same diameter as the pipe.

  Then they spot welded the mesh across the opening of the vent pipe.

  As for the vent cover, it was installed using the screws it came with. The screw heads were then purposely stripped, rendering a screwdriver totally useless as a removal device.

  The area around each vent was dug up and mines were buried.

  This time with no telltale markers to indicate where the mines were.

  The brothers all knew, though.

  For on each side of the vent cover was an indiscrete black mark, made with a permanent black sharpie.

  The brothers all knew that lined up on each mark, and exactly three feet away from the pipe, was a buried anti-personnel mine.

  The brothers all knew that.

  But Adrian Jones didn’t.

  That’s why Adrian Jones was now dead, his legs in a thousand tiny pieces.

  The brothers, should they ever have to do maintenance on the vent or its cover, knew to watch for the markers and to approach them from forty-five degree angles.

  As for Jones’ body, it too would serve a useful purpose, even after the buzzards picked the meat from his bones.

  It would be left there to rot, and his bones would warn future aggressors to stay the hell away from their ventilation pipes.

  They immediately went to twelve hour shifts and increased the manpower in the pillbox.

  In recent weeks they’d stood down to a lower threat level. They’d reduced their number of sentries to two during the day and one at night.

  Now there would be two sentries twenty four seven, except for very brief periods when one had to run off to use the rest room.

  When it was raining there would be three people in the pillbox. For it was assumed the best time to assault the compound was during a heavy rainstorm when visibility was severely limited.

  The security station would be monitored twenty four hours a day as well.

  The brothers put a lot of planning into their bunker system. They’d been preppers for longer than Dave and Sarah. It was the Dykes brothers who’d turned Karen and Tommy onto it and got them prepping their own property for some unknown disaster.

  As Jason Dykes once told Karen and Tommy, “We don’t know what’s coming. And we don’t know when it’s gonna be here.

  “But one thing we know for damn sure is that when it comes, whatever it is, we’re gonna be ready.

  “And we’re gonna survive.”

  So they’d gone through great pains and even greater expense to build their bunker system. Then they stocked it with everything they’d need to survive… whatever.

  They’d developed the very best security system they could dream up. Ventilation systems, power systems, water purification systems.

  In the end, though, what would defeat them was simple human error.

  No security system is foolproof. There’s always something that gets overlooked.

  And in the end Jason was wrong.

  Yes, they were unsure exactly what was coming.

  And they were unsure when it would be there.

  They were damn sure they thought they were ready.

  But despite their best efforts, many of them would not survive.

  Chapter 40

  Parker knew there was a way in.

  There just had to be, and as Scarface’s Savages’ most experienced combat veteran, the rest in his group were looking to him to find it.

  There was grumbling among the ranks. Word had gotten around that Jones had succumbed to a land mine. And that wasn’t something they’d signed up for.

  When the first man deserted in the dead of night, Scarface called them all together for a meeting.

  “I’ll have no deserters in my army. If any of you have any concerns, tell me now. At least show me the courage of stating your convictions and offering your point of view before you just slither off in the night like a worthless snake.”

  One of the men, a bit braver than the others, spoke for the rest of them.

  “We didn’t know there were gonna be mines,” he said. “We thought we were just gonna shoot a couple of them and make the rest surrender. You said there would be very little risk and enough women to go around for everybody…”

  He never finished his argument.

  Scarface drew his pistol and shot the man in his chest.

  He snarled, “Are there any other complaints?”

  Not surprisingly, there were none.

  Scarface wasn
’t a cold-blooded killer by nature.

  Even Parker was surprised.

  But he was frustrated. He’d thought taking the bunker would be a cakewalk. And when it wasn’t, it made him look weak and neutered in front of his men.

  Killing the naysayer, however, gave him a surprising feeling of strength.

  He hadn’t expected that. It somehow made him feel… empowered.

  He liked the way it felt.

  He told the rest of the men to be on high alert and to scatter.

  “Be on your toes. Now, thanks to the stupidity of your friend Mr. Jones, they know we’re out here. They may see fit to launch a pre-emptive strike to thin our numbers. From this point on we should consider anything at all a possibility.”

  He counted heads. There was now himself, Parker, and eight grunts.

  It was enough to take the compound, if there were no more desertions.

  From this point on he could show no weakness, no mercy.

  From this point on he must deal with an iron fist.

  “You men need to understand that we all signed up for this. Every damn one of us. You knew going in that it wouldn’t be easy, but that the rewards would make it worthwhile in the end.

  “I’m going to meet with Parker to discuss our next course of action. We’ll meet again right here, on this very spot, at sunrise. Spread out. Be on your toes. And be mindful.

  “If any of you are missing in the morning we will call a temporary halt to our operation and we will hunt you down. And I will make you wish you’d never been born.

  “From this point on any desertions will hurt all of us. And that means any desertion is an attack on the rest of us. If you try to desert you will become an enemy to our mission, an enemy to our team, and you will pay a very heavy price.

  “I hope you all understand that. Because I can’t make it any plainer than that.”

  The group broke up, leaving only Manson and Parker.

  Manson said, “What do you think?”

  “Personally I’ll be surprised if we have half of them left in the morning. And that’s okay. Because I think I know a way in. And it’ll take only a few men to carry it out. In fact, too many men might be a liability. Once we breach the entrance and go into the bunker itself, all the fighting will be close quarters. Too many men will just get in the way.”

  “Wait. Go back. You said you have a way in?”

  “I think so. But it’ll depend on everything you’ve told me over the past couple of years in the cell.

  “And whether or not you were being honest or whether you were just full of crap.”

  Scarface held his tongue.

  He was a tough guy and had been from the day he first entered Leavenworth years before. He’d scrapped almost daily in an effort to prove both his toughness and his status.

  He normally wasn’t a leader who tolerated insolence or insults from his men.

  But Parker was unique among his men because he was his lieutenant. And also a friend. They went back together for a very long time and Parker could say things that would have gotten another man knocked out cold.

  “Explain.”

  “You used to tell me you could fix any vehicle ever invented. That you could overhaul an engine with your eyes closed. You could tune one up with your hands tied behind your back. That you could rebuild a transmission in record time while high as a kite and drunk at the same time.

  “Do you remember telling me all that?”

  “Yes. So?”

  “Do you remember what you told me the day after we broke out of the prison, when we were desperately looking for a working vehicle so we could get down to Mexico?”

  “No. Enlighten me please.”

  He was starting to get a bit impatient. But he’d let this play out.

  “You told me the EMPs did too much damage to the electronic components. That there were too many electronic parts on modern vehicles. That they’d never work again.”

  “Again… so?”

  “You said the same wasn’t true of tractors and other farm equipment. Or construction equipment. You said those machines were simpler. That they had fewer parts. And none of the electronic or emissions garbage that litter the engines of modern cars.”

  “One last time… so?”

  “You said if we could find a couple of tractors or bulldozers you could get them running in no time at all. But you said it would be pointless, because we could walk to Mexico faster than those things would go.

  “If you were serious about that… about being able to get a bulldozer running again, then I have a plan.”

  “You got a bulldozer in your back pocket, do you?”

  “No. But those guys in the bunker have one, hidden in the woods. I saw it when I was looking for the ventilation pipes.”

  Chapter 41

  Dave would have preferred to walk at night. He was used to night travel, albeit it in a vehicle and not afoot.

  In his mind it was much safer.

  And without doubt it was much more comfortable, for the sun in this part of the country was harsh and unrelenting.

  Unfortunately it was no longer an option.

  He’d been hoofing it for several days now. His sunburn was better, thanks mostly to a bottle of soothing skin cream he’d found in a trucker’s first aid kit.

  That and because he was now wearing long sleeved shirts to cover his arms and protect them from further assault.

  He’d traded the Dodgers cap for a straw cowboy hat. He didn’t like the second choice any better than the first, but the straw hat kept his face and neck pretty much shaded.

  Except in the early morning and late evening. And then he just sucked it up and dealt with it.

  The headaches were gone now. The back of his neck still hurt where he’d been struck and was very tender to the touch. Although he couldn’t see it, he knew it was badly bruised.

  Still, he seemed to have suffered no permanent damage.

  He said a short prayer each evening when he went to bed and each morning when he got up.

  But not for himself.

  Never for himself.

  The prayer was short and to the point.

  If he was to suffer a blood clot which would kill or incapacitate him, please make it wait until he found Beth and returned her to her mother. For he was neither an innocent man nor a non-sinner. If he deserved to die in God’s eyes, then so be it.

  But let him get Beth to safety first. For she was way more pure and deserving of a long life than Dave ever was.

  He was on a different interstate highway now.

  The I-15.

  When the I-40 intersected with the I-15 it finally came to an end and Dave was distraught.

  He had to make a choice: north or south.

  And he had absolutely nothing to indicate which direction they might have taken her.

  He agonized over the decision so much he actually cried.

  And Dave Speer wasn’t a crier.

  The human spirit, when at its weakest moments, sometimes breaks down emotionally.

  Dave was the weakest he’d been in quite some time. Physically as well as emotionally.

  But it was only temporary.

  After he wiped away his tears, he reasoned that north was the best bet.

  It was more than a gut feeling. He also applied common sense. California was a very long state, stretching north and south for several hundred miles.

  He was toward the bottom of the state geographically. Therefore there a was a lot more of California north of him than there was south of him.

  Odds were wherever the creeps who kidnapped his daughter were headed was north.

  So he went south.

  He applied typical Dave Speer logic.

  Almost every decision he’d made of late was wrong.

  Or at least got him into a lot of trouble.

  He couldn’t explain why, exactly. Call it a hunch, or maybe divine intervention. But he somehow just knew in his gut they’d gone south, despite all logic dict
ating otherwise.

  So that’s where he went.

  He hedged his bet in two ways.

  He said a prayer and asked God please, to send him a sign if he made the wrong choice.

  And he’d travel by day instead of by night.

  So that he could query people along the way.

  By night nearly all of them would be sleeping.

  Highway nomads were, for the most part, a friendly sort.

  Dave wasn’t sure why, exactly.

  Perhaps it had something to do with their wandering nature.

  Perhaps it was because they woke up each day in a different place. Maybe that did something to their psyche over time. Gave them a sense of adventure, something new to look forward to each day.

  Maybe something about a mobile life restored their sense of humanity.

  All Dave knew was they tended to be friendlier than city dwellers.

  They tended to be more helpful.

  There were exceptions, of course. Like the miscreants who hit him on the back of the head and stole his vehicle.

  But they were few and far between on the road.

  He got into the habit of stopping travelers who approached him from the south to ask them whether they’d seen a red pickup truck, its engine removed, being pulled by a team of two horses.

  A man and a woman would have occupied such a pickup, he’d tell them.

  They’d have a small girl with them, he’d say.

  “The girl is mine. My kidnapped daughter. I’ve got to find her, and get her back.”

  A dozen times a day he’d ask the question.

  And a dozen times a day the travelers would shrug their shoulders or offer condolences.

  “No, man. I’m sorry. I wish I could help you, but I haven’t seen her.”

  It was on the fourth day out he finally got a glimmer of hope.

  He hadn’t even gotten his words out when a young couple finished his sentence for him.

  “Hello. I was wondering if you’ve seen an old red pickup going in my direction. A pickup which has no motor…”

  “And is being pulled by horses. Yes, we saw it. There was an old man driving it. And an old woman sitting in the cab with a little girl.”