Desperate Times (23 page)

Julie laughed. They all did. Jimmy thought
about what Ken had said. The plant had bankrupted Ken and Patty. He
felt foolish for having believed that Ken and Patty had money
somewhere. They were no different than the rest of them. Given that
fact, Jimmy knew that Ken’s comment wasn’t too much of a stretch.
Patty would never understand Ken’s decision to buy weapons. Jimmy
didn’t think Patty would actually kill him over that, but he’d
certainly be in her doghouse. And from what he knew about Patty,
that would be a lonely place indeed.

“What about ammo?” asked Jon, changing the
subject and replacing the gun inside the wooden crate. “These
things eat up a lot of rounds.”

Ken smiled. “So I heard,” he said. “We’re
covered. We have twenty cases of ammunition. That set me back
almost as much as the rifles did. They’re there, under the tarp,
behind the bench.”

Jimmy pulled back the battered workbench, the
wooden legs scraping dully across the concrete. He then peeled back
the green tarp. Jon helped him drag the heavy cases across the
floor. The cases were stenciled:
Property of the United States
Army.
Jimmy wondered about this as Ken had always been as
straight as an arrow. This was very unlike him. He must’ve seen
this coming a long time ago and decided to pull out all the stops.
Jimmy was happy he had felt that way. Somehow, seeing the rifles
made him feel instantly safer. He only wished that he knew how to
use one.

“Let’s get them up to the back yard,” said
Jon.

“Wait a minute,” said Ken. “These only come
out if we need them.”

“How many of us can handle a fully automatic
weapon?” Jon asked with his face set. “I’ve used these in combat;
how many of us can say that? They’re of no use to us if no one can
handle them.”

Ken looked expectantly as if someone else in
the room would speak up. “Damn,” he said. “You’re right. Would you
mind instructing the rest of us?”

“Not a problem,” said Jon. “But let’s get
started now. We can’t put it off any longer.”

“Patty’s going to kill me,” moaned Ken. “I
told her we lost the money I spent on these in the stock market;
I’m going to have to come clean.”

Glen laughed and Pete joined him. They
laughed as if they understood Ken’s pain. Jimmy looked at them in
the dim light of the workshop. He found that he still didn’t trust
the pair and he hoped that the feeling would pass.

“What you got there?” asked Bill from the
doorway. “Holy smokes!” he exclaimed. “Holy smokes!”

“Bill,” Jimmy said from over his shoulder.
“Just keep it to yourself… please?”

Bill was already gone, his heavy footsteps
plodding quickly up the stairs.

“Oh shit,” grumbled Ken.

Jon began training everyone soon after. He
taught two classes. He began by instructing the men about the
basics of firing an automatic weapon. He urged the men to use the
automatic feature only in cases of dire emergency. The M-16 could
exhaust a clip in a couple of seconds. That would leave the shooter
vulnerable when reloading and would waste valuable rounds. He gave
a detailed lesson on breaking the rifles down and cleaning them. He
timed the men as they put them back together. At the end of the
class, each man took a turn firing the weapon.

Jimmy was no better with the rifle than he
had been with the handgun.

Jon gave an abbreviated lesson to the women.
He taught them how to reload clips and the bare basics of how to
fire the rifles. Those who expressed an interest were able to shoot
a couple of rounds. Julie shot five times and hit the target with
uncanny accuracy. Jon stood behind her with one hand over her
trigger hand, the other under her outstretched arm. He looked
impressed and they both laughed as each shot struck home.

Ken spent the rest of the afternoon inside
the house with Patty. She wasn’t talking to him. Bill spent the day
getting under everyone’s skin. Jimmy wished he would quit badgering
everyone and he watched the others go to great lengths to avoid
him. Jimmy listened in dismay as Bill spouted off about the same
nonsense, blabbering on like a broken record. He blamed the
government for their situation. He went on and on about how the
country had been taken over by big business. When he discussed
these subjects, Bill’s eyes would nearly bug out of his head and
sometimes, much to Jimmy’s horror, spittle would fly from his
mouth. Jimmy wondered if Bill was losing his grip on reality. Why
didn’t he understand that the time for finger-pointing was over?
They had to deal with the situation, not dwell over how they had
arrived here.

Dinner was canned stew. The entire group had
come to terms with their great loss. There would be no more chips,
cookies, soda, candies, and snack crackers. Gone were all the
little goodies that one buys when preparing for an extended camping
trip. What they’d been left with were the bare essentials—canned
foods and frozen meat bought in bulk along with what spices Patty
had on hand. Jimmy wondered if those who had recently returned from
the other side of the fence felt responsible for that. He found
that he didn’t much care. What was done was done.

The party next door began softly in the late
afternoon sun and grew louder with each passing drink. Voices
shouted obscenities through the wall that were followed by fits of
howling laughter. Jon’s crew was at the wall and Jimmy found
himself standing over one of these groups. They stood in the fading
daylight, hurling insults against him and his group. At his feet
was one of the assault rifles and he imagined himself opening up on
the spewing filth below.

The abuse continued until Pete’s shift
relieved them at eleven. The partiers burned whatever was at hand
and fires blazed from all around the lodge area. Before
surrendering his post to Bill, Jimmy surmised that Sally’s
generator must’ve gone down. Every night up until now the
floodlights out back had blazed away until dawn.

“Be careful,” Jimmy whispered as the two
ducked behind the wall. “I think they lost their power. They’ve
been at the wall all night, taunting me. Just let it go. Understand
me, Bill? Just let it go.”

Bill nodded. Jimmy patted him on the shoulder
and climbed down the ladder next to the walkway. He had a bad
feeling about what was happening next door. Even after spending
four hours on the wall, he didn’t want to give up his post to Bill.
The feeling was so strong that he stayed in the shadows. He sat on
a patio chair and watched Bill in the glow from the fires on the
other side of the wall. Light danced through the slats between the
pine trunks.

Jimmy stayed there for a while and soon he
was nodding off. The crowd from the other side of the wall had
left, and things had grown relatively quiet. Night sounds returned
and Jimmy fell fast asleep.

“Wake up,” hissed Jon, poking him in the
ribs. “We’ve got trouble at the gate.”

Jimmy rubbed his eyes. He had no idea what
time it was and he was slightly disoriented. Jon motioned to him
with a flashlight. “Let’s go,” he said in a harsh whisper.

Jimmy stood, swatting blindly at a pine
branch. “Give me some light, will ya? I can’t see a damn
thing.”

Jon waved the light in his direction and he
followed it out. Jon was moving alongside the house, a hunting
rifle slung over his shoulder.

The house was dark and the night was still.
Jimmy followed Jon to the front of the house, down the concrete
stairs and quickly down the driveway to the gate. They were met
there by Pete Donnelly.

“I don’t know what they’re doing out there;
it’s too dark to tell. They’re out there, though. You can hear them
sneaking around.”

“Why don’t you just shine a flashlight down
on them?” Jon asked.

“And get shot?” Donnelly asked, as if Jon
were a fool. “Listen, they’re not bothering anyone. I just wanted
you to know that something was going on, just in case. You two can
go back to bed.”

Jon switched on his flashlight and pushed
Pete Donnelly aside. “I’m going up. Tell your men to get down if
they’re afraid. We need to know what they’re doing out there.”

“Hey, it’s your funeral,” snapped Donnelly.
“He’s coming up, boys. Take cover.”

Jimmy followed Jon. They scurried up the
steep ramp to the walkway, the logs creaking beneath their combined
weight. Jon shone the beam down over the wall and they could see a
crowd had assembled. Jimmy gasped; it seemed as if everyone from
Sally’s was there. Many of the men were armed and looked as if they
were ready to attack.

“Hey neighbor!” sang a stringy voice from
below. “We got something of yours.”

“Go sleep it off!” Jon replied.

“Sleep this off,” retorted the voice.

A pair of car headlamps was switched on,
bathing the lawn outside the wall in yellow light. The lights were
pointed toward the tree that Bill had been tied to. Brenda was now
bound to the same tree. There was a small crowd milling around her,
laughing as she squirmed and fought to get free of her bonds. Over
her mouth was a fat chunk of tape. Someone reached for it and
pulled it free with a ripping sound that carried all the way to the
wall.

“Help me!” she screamed. “Oh please, help
me!”

“You’ve got to hand it to them for
originality,” quipped Jon.

“Think they’ll do it?” asked Jimmy.

“I don’t know,” said Jon. “We have to believe
they will. Get me one of those M-16s. I’ll cover her.”

Jimmy reached down to Donnelly who stood at
the wall trying to peek through the slats. “Give me your gun,” he
ordered.

Jimmy expected an argument, but Donnelly
willingly handed up the assault rifle. Zak Kwapik and Joe Hanson
stood open-mouthed at their positions on the corners, their guns
pointing uselessly at the twinkling stars in the black sky.

Brenda twisted against her bonds. “Help me!
Please, just give them what they want! I don’t want to die!”

Jimmy traded rifles with Jon. Jimmy looked at
the rifle in the darkness.

“You want her back?” asked the reedy voice
from the shadows below. “All you have to do is open the gate.
Nobody will get hurt. That’s our promise to you. If the gate isn’t
opened in one minute, we’ll light her up. That’s another promise.
Your choice, guys. The clock is ticking.”

The crowd below laughed at this as if it were
very funny. Some cheered and Brenda’s screams were drowned out by
their wickedness.

“Donnelly, tell your men to stay at their
posts,” ordered Jon. “This could be a trick. Tell them to be ready
for an attack.”

Donnelly nodded, turned on his flashlight and
followed its beam around the perimeter of the wall. Jimmy watched
as the beam of light bobbed up and down, disappearing behind the
far side of the darkened house.

“What do we do?” asked Jimmy, holding an
unfamiliar hunting rifle in his left hand.

“We can’t let them in,” said Jon. “We’ve got
to bargain with them. If they don’t want to bargain, be ready to
shoot. Shoot to kill.”

“How do you even shoot this thing?” Jimmy
asked. Is there a safety or something?”

Jon looked as if he thought Jimmy was joking.
“There,” he pointed. “That’s a lever action, just like John Wayne
used. You know who he was, right?”

Jimmy rolled his eyes. Of course he knew who
John Wayne was.

“Just pull the hammer back and pull the
trigger. After you fire, rack the lever open and closed. It’ll be
ready to shoot again.”

Jimmy thought of the Duke and remembered the
mechanics. He could fire the gun. He doubted if he could hit
anything. He prayed that he didn’t have to find out. He suddenly
remembered Lonnie and the empty feeling returned.

“Thirty seconds!” shrieked the voice with
delight.

“I’ll shoot anyone within twenty feet of
her!” shouted Jon.

Jimmy watched with horror as a dark shadow
raced up to Brenda with a buck and dumped its contents over
Brenda’s head. She shrieked as the person quickly scampered back
into the shadows. Brenda wailed unintelligibly. The sweet vapors of
gasoline perfumed the air.

“Ten seconds!”

“Hold it!” We need to wake up Ken and Patty,”
Jon shouted. “This is their place. We’ll let them decide what to
do. Let’s not get carried away here!”

“Five seconds!” retorted the voice.

“I’ll shoot!” screamed Jon.

“Help me!” pleaded Brenda. “Don’t let them do
this!”

There was a long pause. The headlamps died
and Brenda disappeared into the darkness. Ten, twenty seconds
passed. Jimmy could feel his heart in his throat. He pointed the
rifle into the shadows and thumbed back the hammer.

“Time’s up!” cackled the voice. “This is on
your heads!”

“Wait!” screamed Jon.

The shadows seemed to move together down
below. They scrambled away from the gate, heading into the relative
safety of the trees that lined the property. Sweat dribbled down
Jimmy’s forehead. He brushed his hand at it and it came away wet.
“What are they doing?” he asked.