Desperate Times (37 page)

“Do you know what this is?” Burt asked,
taking a bite from the candy bar and hooking a thumb over his
shoulder. “This is Hills Brothers Meats.”

Jimmy looked up and saw the bullet riddled
sign over the door. Sure enough, that’s what it read.

“The power has been off for a while now, but
the freezer is closed and nothing has thawed,” said Alex Hill.
“We’re going to need some boxes or coolers.”

Burt smacked his lips. “Let’s move,” he said.
“Think of it, boys, T-bone steaks, rib-eyes, filet mignon, six
different kinds of beef jerky. Mmm… how does that sound?”

“That sounds great,” said Jon, smiling.
“Let’s load up.”

“Amanda and I are going to head over to
Chuck’s Grocery,” said Joe Hill. “I hope that it’s not completely
empty.”

“Check it out,” said Alex. “Be back here in
ten minutes, okay?”

Joe nodded and he and Amanda turned and
walked down the sidewalk, their shoes crunching on the broken
glass. They held hands as they walked away. The others followed
Alex down into the basement of the building which appeared to have
escaped any of the looting or vandalism. They walked between long
rows of stainless steel shelving; some were empty, but some still
contained cases of soups and spices and other items they sold at
the butcher shop. Alex opened the large door of the walk-in
freezer. A waft of cold air greeted them and Jimmy smiled. The
freezer looked to be nearly full. They rummaged the basement and
began to box up everything that they could carry. Alex left them,
but came back with two large plastic coolers.

“There’s more,” he said. “I’ll be back.”

They made countless trips up and down the
stairs, loading the back of the truck with the frozen meat. Alex
brought back eight coolers of various sizes and what they couldn’t
fit in those, they packed into trash bags. They continued working
at a frenzied pace until all of the work was done. Joe and Amanda
walked up just as Alex hauled out the last case of soup.

“There wasn’t much,” said Joe. “But we’ve got
some good stuff boxed up outside of Chuck’s Market. Let’s go get
it.”

Jimmy drove the Mack the two blocks to the
little grocery store. There, he spotted several cardboard boxes
stacked next to the open doors. Jimmy backed the truck up to the
boxes; he and Alex stayed inside the cab while Jon and the others
loaded them into the back of the truck.

“Okay,” said Burt, slapping the side of the
truck. “Let’s go.”

Jimmy nodded in his mirror and watched Burt
disappear behind the truck. The cab rocked slightly as Burt found
his spot on the back of the truck. “What’s the quickest way to the
hospital from here?” he asked Alex.

“That way,” Alex replied. “Four blocks and
take a right. We’ll run right into it. Why do we have to stop
there?”

“Didn’t Burt tell you? Dr. Benson is at our
place. I think we’d better go do a little shopping for him, while
we still can.”

“Dr. Benson is there? That’s great,” said
Alex. “But have you seen the hospital? It’s pretty bad.”

“I’ve been there; so has Jon. We know where
to go.”

The stench inside the hospital was nearly
unbearable. Amanda walked inside, held her hand over her mouth and
quickly retreated to the truck. Joe shook his head. Jimmy motioned
the others forward, leading the way to the door where Dr. Benson
had entered for his supplies. The blue lights were fading, but they
still provided enough light to see down the darkened hallway. Jimmy
tried the handle to the door; it was locked.

“Shit,” said Jimmy. “I thought he left it
open.”

“Stand back,” said Burt. “I’ll open it up.”
He removed his revolver and fired three shots into the lock. The
third shot struck home and the door opened an inch. The shots were
deafening, but the smell of gunpowder was welcomed. Burt pushed
open the door and Jimmy was relieved to see that it was just as
they’d left it.

“Grab that stretcher,” Burt said to Jon,
pointing at a collapsed stretcher that stood in the far corner.
“We’ll use that to haul this stuff out of here. What are we taking,
anyhow?”

“All of it,” said Jimmy. “We’re taking all of
it.”

Burt whistled. “Are you serious?” he asked.
“There’s a lot of shit in here.”

“I know,” said Jimmy. “So we’d better get to
it.”

They were all exhausted by the time they’d
finished. They hadn’t been able to take everything; there simply
wasn’t room. They filled out the remaining cargo room with whatever
they could fit inside. Jimmy knew Dr. Benson was going to be a very
happy man.

“Where are we all supposed to ride?” asked
Burt.

“I don’t know,” said Alex. “I think the
bikers shot up pretty much every working vehicle in town. That’s
the first thing that they did. I know they ruined my Blazer.”

“Our Saturn is toast,” said Amanda.

“How many of you can ride a motorcycle?” Burt
asked.

“I can,” said Jon.

“Me too,” said Alex.

“I know how to ride,” said Jimmy, “but I’ve
got to drive the truck.”

“I can drive the truck,” said Joe. “Amanda
and I will follow you.”

“Are you sure?” asked Jimmy. “That’s a
nine-speed in there. Can you drive one of those?

“Piece of cake,” answered Joe. “We’ll meet
you over at the park.”

“Are you riding with them?” Jimmy asked Burt,
who hadn’t said a word.

“Are you kidding? I’ve been riding Harleys
all my life. Most of the brothers like a nice Cadillac. Me? I’m a
Harley guy. I’ve got three at home in the garage, at least I used
to. Come on; let’s go find us some bikes.”

They walked back to the park to where the
motorcycles stood at the curb. They stood gleaming in the last of
the twilight with most still having the keys in the ignitions. Burt
eyed a Fat Boy, a big bike that fit him perfectly. Burt threw his
leg over the bike and turned the key. “Full of gas,” he said. “This
one’s mine!”

Jon stopped in front of a chopped Soft Tail
that was completely covered in chrome. He checked the tank and said
with a childish grin, “I’m Easy Rider, boys. This one’s full
too.”

Alex sat on the first bike he came to, so
customized that Jimmy didn’t recognize the model. He checked the
tank and gave everyone the thumbs up.

Jimmy was doing something that he’d always
dreamed of doing. He was Harley shopping. He loved the big bikes
and knew most everything there was to know about them, except how
it felt to own one. He jogged up the line of parked motorcycles as
if they were on a showroom floor. He couldn’t decide.

“Come on!” shouted Burt.

And suddenly Jimmy stopped. There was the
Harley he had been dreaming of; he knew it from the moment he laid
eyes on it. He prayed that it had some gas in the tank. He
nervously bent over and switched on the ignition. The needle shot
to full. The bike was a new Ultra Glide Classic, a top-of-the-line
Harley Davidson with all the bells and whistles. The bike had been
customized and sported orange flames over a glossy black tank.
Jimmy admired the impressive-looking sound system. The back held a
pair of saddle bags and a small trunk. The flames had been done by
a serious artist and the Harley actually looked as if it were
burning. Jimmy jumped onto the seat and thumbed the starter. The
engine purred and he switched on the stereo. Whoever had previously
owned the bike had left an Eagles CD in the player. Jimmy rolled
away from the curb, the stereo turned up as high as it would play.
The others followed.

Jimmy felt better than he had in days. The
wind in his hair felt wonderful, and he sang along with Don Henley
as they left Ely in their taillights. Burt roared past, pumping his
big left fist into the air. Jimmy smiled. Jon followed Burt,
cracking the throttle and drowning out Jimmy’s music in a deafening
roar. He let them pass and Alex rode up next to him. He sang along
with Jimmy, his voice lost in the wind. Joe and Amanda followed in
the truck.

Jimmy blocked out what had happened in the
park. What mattered was that they’d done what they’d set out to do.
He couldn’t help but to crack the throttle every now and then.
Their headlights cut into the night air, Burt and Jon’s taillights
glowing a quarter mile ahead of them. Jimmy couldn’t wait to get
back. He was hungry and tired, but mostly he was anxious to open up
the back of the truck for everyone to see.

They covered the miles quickly, passing
nothing but the trees on the lonely stretch of highway. Jimmy
laughed as he remembered walking those miles. He was now riding
over them in style. The powerful motorcycle handled like a dream.
Up ahead, brake lights flashed. They’d reached the gravel road.
Jimmy turned off the stereo and he and Alex putted down the gravel
road. Jimmy thought about Paula and Julie and wondered how he’d
decide between the two. They rounded the corner and Burt goosed the
throttle on the Fat Boy, the bike fishtailed in the loose sand.

And suddenly all hell broke loose.

Up ahead, distinctive orange flashes glowed
like spewing fire. Somebody was shooting at them. Jimmy dumped his
Harley onto the gravel road and scrambled back around the corner,
frantically waving at Joe to stop the truck. Joe slammed on the
brakes.

From the headlights of the Mack, he spotted
what none of them had remembered to look for. There was a white
towel hanging from the branch of the pine.

“Oh shit,” said Jimmy.

Twenty
-
Eight

What do you actually know about the Federal
Emergency Management Agency? What you find out may shock you. The
Agency has sweeping powers, even the muscle to suspend the
Constitution of the United States.

Jimmy was at the passenger side of the Mack
and flung open the door. He reached inside and grabbed one of the
assault rifles.

“Back up,” Jimmy said. “About a mile back,
you’ll see a little driveway on your right. Pull in there and shut
it down.”

“What happened?” asked Joe, his face looking
pale in the instrument lights.

“I’m not sure,” said Jimmy. “No time to talk,
just get this thing moving. I’ll come back with the others.
Go!”

Jimmy turned and ran back to the corner, the
Mack howling at high speed in reverse. He checked the lever and
switched the rifle to full auto. If anything had happened to Jon or
the others, Jimmy was going to make somebody pay for it.
Sister
Margaret,
he thought, bitterly. She had turned everyone against
them. Jimmy ran blindly around the corner and saw the jumbled pile
of motorcycles, chrome gleaming in the starlight.

“Jimmy!” shouted Jon. “In here!”

Jimmy ran, following Jon’s voice into the
blackness. He tripped over a bush and falling headlong into the
pines.

“Are you hit?” asked Burt, who grabbed him
under the arms and pulled him another five feet into the woods.

“No,” wheezed Jimmy, “what about you guys? Is
Alex with you?”

“I’m here,” whispered Alex. “Nice welcoming
committee. Do they shoot at everyone who rides in here?”

“We’re okay,” said Jon. “But we’ve got to let
them know that it’s us. They weren’t expecting us to come riding up
on Harleys.”

“I don’t think that matters, not anymore,”
answered Jimmy, angrily. “There’s a towel hanging in the tree out
there. You know what that means.”

“Son of a bitch,” muttered Burt.

“Sister Margaret,” hissed Jimmy. “We’ve got
to find the others; they’re in here, somewhere. Joe and Amanda are
driving the truck back toward the highway. I told them where to
go.”

“I can’t see three feet in front of my face,”
said Jon. “Finding them tonight isn’t going to be easy.”

“We’ll find them,” said Jimmy. “We have
to.”

“Okay,” said Burt. “We’ll give it a shot.
Where’s the truck, Jimmy? How far back are they?”

“Maybe a mile, there’s a little road cut into
the woods that leads into a small field. I told Joe to pull in
there.”

“Good,” replied Burt. “Alex, take the road
and find them. Run. We’ll give you a signal when we come find you.
You’ll know it’s us. We’ve got people in here and we’ve got to find
them. Wait for us and protect that truck. You got me?”

“Yeah,” said Alex. “We’ll be there. You said
a mile back? Which side?”

“This side,” said Jimmy.

“Okay. I’ll see you guys there. Good
luck.”

“Thanks,” said Burt. “Get moving.”

The pine forest was as dark as a closed
casket. The tall pines, planted decades ago, stood lined up like
soldiers in the night. If they were careful, Jimmy thought they
could move through them without too much trouble. “Let’s go,” he
said. “Follow me.”

They followed Jimmy deeper into the blackness
of the woods. To their right, they could hear the excited chatter
of muffled voices. Jimmy groaned, knowing that those were the
people who had banished Ken and Patty—the very people who had
invited them inside in the first place. He wasn’t going to let them
get away with it. He was sure that Jon and Burt would feel the same
way.