Betrayal: Society Lost, Volume Two (9 page)

Chapter Seventeen

Following T. R. approximately twenty yards in trail, Jessie saw him give the hold signal as they approached the outskirts of town. With a few of the buildings having operational electric lights, Jessie listened for the sound of a generator, knowing that the city could not be on the previously existing regional electrical grid that had been severely damaged as a target of the attacks.

Seeing T. R. motion for him to continue, Jessie joined up with him to survey the area ahead.

“That’s Sunnyside Avenue,” T. R. whispered as he pointed.

Seeing a vehicle’s headlights come around the corner of a building off in the distance, he signaled for Jessie to get down and whispered softly, “They should pass on by. Just hold tight until I say. I would assume this is a routine patrol. This is one of the standard routes. They come down Rice Avenue, and then make a turn to Sunnyside, then Dunn, and on to West Sumner Avenue. From there they follow the perimeter of town. After they pass, we’ll make our move toward Jack’s home, which is just two blocks up from Sunnyside Avenue.”

Nodding in reply, Jessie watched as the patrol approached their position. Thoughts raced through his mind about the man he had teamed up with for this dangerous and potentially deadly undertaking. Could he be trusted? As he reached down and placed his hand on his knife, he thought to himself,
All he would have to do is simply stand up and wave his buddies over to us. Then, he could come up with some bullsh—
story about how he led me here, to get his butt out of the bind he’s found himself in. If this son-of-a-b— so much as flinches when they get close, I’ll take him out.

Slowing and scanning the area with their spotlight, the men in the desert tan-painted SUV pulled to a stop only twenty yards from Jessie and T. R.’s position, placing the vehicle in park, but keeping the engine running.

As the passenger door opened and one of the men, dressed in the same tactical gear as T. R., stepped out of the vehicle, Jessie began to draw his knife from his sheath as T. R. looked back at Jessie, his eyes darting down to Jessie’s hand.

Turning back to the threat in front of them, T. R. slowly lifted his rifle into a ready position, with his muzzle pointed at the man exiting the vehicle.

After a moment, the man turned and said something to his partner, which was unintelligible to Jessie and T. R., prompting the driver of the vehicle to exit as well.
Here we go,
Jessie thought as he removed his hand from his knife and raised his rifle in preparation for what he assumed would come next.
This sure didn’t take long.

Walking over to his partner, the driver of the vehicle reached into his pocket removing a pack of cigarettes, handing one to the other man. Jessie watched as the two casually leaned back against the vehicle, seemingly enjoying their smoke break.
I wonder where those bastards got their smokes,
he thought.
From an unsuspecting traveler, no doubt.

After several tense moments, watching and waiting, the men got back in their vehicle and drove away, scanning with their searchlight as they went. Moving on up to T. R., Jessie said, “You have no idea how bad I wanted to smoke those bastards.”

“It looked to me like I was on your list as well,” T. R. replied, glancing down at Jessie’s knife.

“You would have been if I was given a good enough reason,” Jessie replied. “So far so good, though. Enough chatting. Let’s get moving. What’s the plan?”

“Jack’s place is just a few blocks up, like I said. That’s about as far as my plan goes. I’m really not sure how to approach the situation. It’s not like we can just walk up and knock on his door. There are too many eyes in this town. There are a lot of good people here, but there are a few that act as Peronne’s eyes and ears in exchange for a little extra protection or favor.”

“We’ll figure something out,” Jessie replied. “Let’s just get there.”

With a nod, T. R. signaled for Jessie to hold his position as he made his move across Sumner Avenue, continuing until he could take visual cover behind a section of fence on the far side of the road. Jessie watched as T. R. signaled him to join him on the other side. Looking around carefully, Jessie emerged from a small cluster of trees and began to quickly cross the street as he caught movement out of the corner of his eye, off to his left flank. Turning toward the potential threat, Jessie rocked his AR-10 forty-five degrees to the side, looking through his offset backup iron sites. Flipping the selector switch on his rifle from safe to semi-auto, his sights settled on the movement as his finger twitched and his heart raced.

“Ah, damn it. Stupid cat!” he whispered aloud to himself as he watched a housecat dart off into the shadows.

Reaching T. R.’s position, T. R. greeted him with a chuckle, saying quietly, “Was the cat on your list, too?”

“My list is subject to change at a second’s notice,” Jessie replied.

“So, anyway,” T. R. continued, “Jack’s house is on the corner of Richards and Sharp Street, right across from Saint Anthony’s. Saint Anthony’s is the building with its exterior lights on, up the street and on the right.”

“Is that a church?” Jessie asked.

“Yeah,” replied T. R. “Peronne provides them with electricity from the generators that power the critical facilities in town. It’s one of his good deeds to appease the residents. That, and to not make it such a big deal that he supplies electricity from the city’s emergency power to his own home—for security reasons, of course.”

“Of course,” Jessie replied, returning the sarcastic sentiment.

Pointing to the south-facing fence surrounding Jack’s home, T. R. said, “With the light from the church on the north side, our best bet is to enter Jack’s yard from the south-side, and then work our way to the house in the darkness.”

Simply nodding in reply, T. R. and Jessie began edging their way from the fence alongside Sumner Avenue toward Jack McGuigan’s home, using a tactical bound, providing cover for each other as they went. Arriving at the six-foot-tall, wooden privacy fence running along the south facing edge of Jack’s property, Jessie held his position, allowing T. R. to join up with him.

Tapping Jessie on the shoulder, T. R. whispered, “Keep an eye out while I look for a way in.”

With a nod, Jessie turned his attentions to their surroundings while T. R. began checking the integrity of each of the fence boards until finding one that appeared looser than the rest. Pulling the bottom of the board free, he pulled out and upward, pulling the nails that held the board at the top loose, but leaving them holding the board in place. Pulling on the board to the left of his now small access hole, finding it held tightly in place, he moved to the board to its right, working it loose after a few good tugs.

As Jessie scanned the area, he looked to his left to check on T. R.’s status, only to see that he was gone, “What the...? Hey?” he whispered.

Poking his head through the hole in the fence, T. R. said, “Come on in. Just pull the boards back into place behind you.”

Following T. R.’s lead, Jessie squeezed his way through the small opening and into the backyard of the home. Pulling the boards back into position, having never been removed from the upper nails holding them in place, he masked their entry point as best he could.

“I think you’d better lead the way from here,” T. R. sheepishly said. “I don’t think someone dressed like me, crawling around his home in the middle of the night, would go over very well.”

“I’d venture to guess that any man crawling around someone’s home in the middle of the night wouldn’t go over very well,” Jessie replied. “Besides, it’s not like I can put him at ease by telling him someone who turned on him and his people sent me. Just go knock on the back door and talk to him like a man. Own up to it. Look him in the eye and tell him the truth. It’s the only way this is going to work.”

Nodding in agreement, T. R. said, “Okay. Well, keep an eye out. The patrols go by the church every so often.”

Slipping up to the home, T. R. raised his hand and began to knock on the door as he was startled by the sounds of a small dog barking feverishly on the other side of a window screen, just to the right of the back door.

Flinching from the unexpected bark, T. R. turned toward the sound only to hear the door swing open, and to feel a blunt object strike him in the face, knocking him to the ground. Looking up, dazed and confused, he reached for his sidearm as he saw the butt of a pump shotgun being thrust down at his face by the very man he had come to see.

Just as the shotgun was about to make contact, Jessie tackled the man to the ground, saving T. R. from what would have been a violent blow to the face. “No!” Jessie said sternly through gritted teeth. “He’s here to talk. We’re here to talk... and get some help.”

Just then, the little dog came barreling out of the back door, pouncing on T. R., biting down on his vest and shaking side to side. Knocking the dog off him, they heard a woman’s voice yell, “Tyke! No! Don’t hurt him!”

Climbing to his knees, T. R. pushed the little dog away once more, shouting, “Get it off! Angela, get him off!”

“T. R.?” she queried, surprised that it was him.

“Yeah, it’s that treasonous son-of-a-b—!” her father Jack shouted.

“Sir, calm down. He’s with me, and we’re here for a good reason. Hear us out. We need to get inside and work this out before Peronne’s men catch wind of what’s going on.”

“I don’t give a damn!” Jack shouted. “I’ll tell them you were breaking into our home in the middle of the night. You’re probably the bastard they’re looking for anyway.”

“Do you want them to see that you still have a gun in this house?” Jessie asked. “Isn’t that forbidden? What else will they find when they search you home because of it?”

“They’ll find Tyke, Dad. He’s right.”

Relaxing his struggle, Jack looked at T. R. and said, “I don’t want that son-of-a-b— in my home.”

“It’s him or the rest of Peronne’s men. Your call,” Jessie said, making Jack’s choices clear.

Pausing for a moment to think things through, Jack reluctantly replied, “You’d better keep him out of my reach. I can’t make any promises as to what I’ll do if I get my hands on him.”

“I understand completely,” Jessie said as he got off the man and reached out with his hand to help him up.

Refusing the assistance with a defiant attitude, Jack stood up, dusted himself off, and said, “Get in the house, but keep your hands where I can see them.”

“Yes, sir,” replied Jessie.

Picking up the dog, Angela said, “Hurry up before they come,” as she hurried into the home.

Chapter Eighteen

Once inside the home, Jack shouted through the house, “Angela, get in here.”

Running into the room carrying a lantern-style candle holder to light her way, she said, “I’m right here. I was just putting Tyke in the basement.

Handing her the shotgun, Jack said, “Keep an eye on them for a minute while I check the front.”

Taking the shotgun, Angela watched as her father went through the home looking out of each of the windows. Ducking around the corner for a moment, he reappeared with a 9mm Springfield XD pistol with a frame-mounted combination laser/flashlight.

“I don’t see any of their friends out there,” Jack said to Angela. “You got Tyke taken care of?”

“Yes, he’s in the basement,” she replied.

Looking at both T. R. and Jessie with an icy-cold stare, he then said, “If you bring Peronne down on us, and she loses that dog, I’ll kill you both.”

Confused, Jessie said, “Loses the dog? What do you mean?”

“Do you not know anything?” Jack said with contempt in his voice. Motioning toward T. R. with his pistol, he added, “Ask your buddy here.”

Clearing his throat, T. R. sheepishly said, “Peronne has declared control over the food resources in town.”

“Like any good dictator,” Jessie interjected.

“Yeah, exactly,” T. R. replied. “Well, anyway, since he lays claim to control of redistribution of our food supplies, as well as just about everything else, he banned the ownership of non-agricultural animals. People can have chickens, sheep, cattle, goats, etc., but no dogs or cats. He says they don’t earn their keep, and we can’t afford the extra mouths to feed.”

“Right,” said Jack as he moved the kitchen curtain out of the way with the barrel of his pistol, again looking outside to scan the area. Lighting several extra candles to better illuminate the room, he added, “So like I said, if you bring Peronne down on us, and they take her dog, Tyke, they’ll kill him, and for that, I’ll kill you. That dog’s a member of this family and I will treat his loss as such. Do you understand me?” he said with a clenched jaw, waving the pistol back and forth between the two men. “I know who this traitor is, but who are you?” Jack asked Jessie.

“My name is Jessie Townsend. Before it all went down, I was the sheriff of Montezuma County in Colorado. To save you the details, after the collapse, I lost everything—my wife, children, everything. I was on my way east to find my sister. She’s all I have left in this world. Or at least I hope I still have her.”

Pausing momentarily, thinking of his sister, Jessie snapped back into the moment, saying, “Anyway, as I was passing through the area, I worked my way around to the north in order to avoid the town and any threats it may contain, and when I got to the Red Lake area, I came across what appeared to have been an ambush. It was recent, as in the evening before with the bodies of the victims still strewn about. One of the vehicles contained signs that the victims had been traveling with small children.”

Clearing his throat, Jessie continued, “I just couldn’t live with myself if I just let it go and kept going, so I gave the dead their proper respects and began to watch the town from a distance. That’s where I bumped into him” he said, gesturing toward T. R. “He says he had had enough of Peronne and was running away to link up with his family in Oklahoma. He seems legit, but I’ve been keeping my eye on him, hoping I can trust him,” Jessie said, getting his point across to both T. R. and Jack.

Looking Jack squarely in the eye, Jessie added, “He said your daughter works at City Hall and may have some information to help us figure out what happened to anyone who might have been taken during the ambush.”

As Angela started to answer, Jack interrupted, saying, “So let me get this straight. A total stranger who was just passing by is risking his neck to check on other total strangers that might not even be alive? Why the hell would you do that?”

“Only worrying about ourselves is what got us into this mess,” Jessie replied. “You’ve got no right to complain about the world around you if you’re not gonna be man enough to do something about it. Thinking of my own children, and how if they were still alive and something happened to me, I would want someone to try to lend them a hand. Besides, like I said, I lost everything. What do I have to lose?”

“Your life,” Jack replied.

“There’s not much value in that if it’s not a life well lived,” Jessie quickly responded. “Staying on the run isn’t a life, it’s an existence.”

“So you’re the one?” Angela said, looking at T. R., continuing what she was going to say before she was interrupted.

“The one?” Jack enquired.

“I overheard some of the men saying that one of the officers deserted. They were saying they were really gonna mess him up when they found him.”

“They’ve tried that already,” said Jessie. “It didn’t work out for them.”

“Sounds like you’re really stirring up a mess,” replied Jack.

“You’ve already got a mess,” Jessie stated. “The only thing is, no one was doing anything about it.”

Seeming to take offense at Jessie’s statement, Jack started to reply as T. R. interjected, “Look, the reason we are here is I thought Angela might have seen or heard something.”

“Seen or heard what?” she asked.

“Barnes was joking about some woman they were keeping somewhere, who, at least from the sound of it, wasn’t being treated very lady-like, to say the least. The timing of which coincides with the timing of what Jessie says happened east of town.”

Thinking for a moment, she added, “I’ve not heard anything directly, but now that you mention it, Rosa had been taking things back and forth to the detention center from Peronne’s home. That sort of lines up with what you are saying.”

“Things? What sort of things?” T. R. asked.

“Laundry, food, bedding, and such,” she replied. “I didn’t really think much of it at the time. I just assumed it was for officers on overnight duty somewhere. It might be nothing, but it also might be what you are talking about.”

“Why would they be keeping someone against their will like that?” Jack asked. “Well, I guess I can think of a few reasons they would be keeping a woman, based on human nature alone, but why the children?”

Taking a deep breath, T. R. spoke up and said, “Let me explain to you exactly what I know and where some of the supplies Peronne keeps pumping into the town come from.”

For the next few minutes, T. R. explained to Jack and Angela what he had previously told Jessie about how Chief Peronne lures unsuspecting travelers to the outskirts of Fort Sumner in order to steal their supplies, and often times their freedom, trading them to a human-trafficking ring with which Peronne has allegiance.

Before anyone else could respond, Jack interrupted, saying, “I’ve got to talk to my daughter in private for a moment. You two wait right here. Don’t go anywhere and don’t touch anything. Understood?”

“Yes, sir,” Jessie replied. “Your home, your castle.”

As Jack and Angela left the room, T. R. looked at Jessie and said, “Well, that went better than I expected.”

With a chuckle, Jessie said, “It ain’t over yet. He might just be going to get his
guttin
’ knife. You might end up dog food for Tyke.”

“Ha, ha,” T. R. responded sarcastically.

A few moments later, Jack and Angela came back into the room carrying several towels and neatly folded sets of men’s clothing. “Here,” Jack said, tossing them each a set of clothes. “You both look like you’re roughly my size. Get out of those wet clothes. You’re getting my kitchen floor all wet. You’ll sleep in the basement tonight. Tomorrow, Angela will see what she can find out, and we’ll go from there about how we’re gonna deal with this. If she verifies what you say, well, we want to help. We’ve had about enough of the goings on around here. But if what you say isn’t true, well, you’ve opened a can of worms for yourselves. You’ve picked the wrong guy to con if you’re pullin’ a con.”

“That sounds good to us,” Jessie replied. “Just keep in mind that time is of the essence in a situation like this. If they are keeping someone, especially children, the longer this drags on, the less likely there will be a good outcome and the less likely it will be that we or anyone else find them.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t think I can take things around here much longer anyway. We’ve been silently biding our time, until a reason to make a move presented itself. If what you say is true, we have our reason. Now, you two get changed and then follow me. Angela, I’ve got this, you go on back to bed.”

Giving her father a hug, Angela did as he asked, leaving Jack, T. R. and Jessie alone in the kitchen. As Jessie and T. R. began to change clothes, Jack saw Jessie’s Colt Single Action Army hanging from the paracord rope around Jessie’s neck.

“Are you tryin’ to be sneaky or something? Hiding that thing like that?” he asked.

“No, sir,” Jessie replied. “I just didn’t want to lose my only remaining family heirloom in the river.”

“Can’t say I blame you there,” Jack replied.

Once the men had changed into dry clothes, Jack returned to the kitchen, and said, “Okay, now, I can’t believe I’m gonna let you go down to where I’m about to take you, but we need to be able to keep this little slumber party discreet. I guess what I’m trying to say is, I won’t be double-crossed. You, sir,” he said looking at Jessie,” I don’t know you from Adam, and T. R., well, I’ve got plenty reasons not to put a damn bit of faith in what you say. It hurt me bad when you teamed up with the bastard that’s keeping the rest of us down. I don’t care if it seemed like your only option at the time. I’ll never forget the side you chose to take. So both of you, forgive me if I’m less than the perfect host. And keep in mind that my continued willingness to be a host is based on whether or not what you say pans out to be the truth. If not, well, we’ll go from there.”

Turning to walk down the hall, he said, “Now, follow me and try to be quiet. Angela has to get up in the morning to go to work, and if you wake Tyke, he’ll keep her up all night.”

“What kind of dog is Tyke?” Jessie asked. “All I’ve had in the past are guardian dogs, so I’m not familiar with the smaller breeds.”

“He’s a miniature schnauzer, and like I said, he’s basically family to her. I’ll treat things that way, if anything happens to him.”

Following Jack down a narrow set of stairs that were behind what seemed like a closet door, Jessie noticed old family portraits of a woman and a young boy along with Jack and Angela spanning what seemed like the entirety of what would have been Angela’s childhood, hanging on the wall, descending with the stairs. He could only assume that it was his wife and a brother of Angela’s, but didn’t want to ask, given the tension in their presence. Knowing all too well the pain of such a loss, if that were to be the case, Jessie understood Jack’s lack of trust and fierce attitude in regards to protecting his family. Thinking back to the Walkers’ arrival to his homestead after his family had died, Jessie recalled him behaving with exactly the same kind of distrust and resentment of others.

Reaching the basement, Jessie appreciated the rustic style of decor. Old, rough-cut wooden planks lined the walls. The furniture was of the homemade variety, using large sections of tree trunks as well as branches with some of the bark still remaining to create a very natural and outdoorsy feel to the room. The light fixture hanging from the ceiling in the middle of the room was even decorated with deer antlers, something Jessie himself would have done.

As Jessie stood and admired the room, Jack interrupted his thoughts, saying, “Back here is where you’re staying,” as he opened a door that was cleverly hidden among the natural gaps between the planks on the wall. No knob or lock was evident to Jessie. It seemed as if Jack merely put his fingers into the wall and made a door simply appear out of nowhere.

“Nice,” Jessie said, admiring Jack’s handiwork.

“No one but Angela and I know about this, so, well... it had better stay that way,” Jack said, his reluctance being apparent.

Following Jack into the room, Jessie looked around to see the far wall containing heavy-duty industrial shelving stocked with long-term food storage of various types, as well as two large gun safes along the adjacent, block wall. Several sets of body armor hung from the wall, as well as a decorative display of martial arts swords and other weapons of the craft.

“Impressive,” Jessie said.

“I guess you could say Burt Gummer from the movie
Tremors
was my hero,” Jack replied. “The guns and ammo are all safely locked away, so I don’t have to worry about you getting into that. The other stuff, well, I guess I don’t have to worry about that. You’ve got your own weapons, plus, if you thought you could take me out with a sword, I’d welcome the attempt. I’m a little rusty and could use the practice.”

With a crooked smile, Jessie said, “No... I don’t think I will be taking you up on that offer.”

“You can sleep here for the night. I’ll be back down in the morning. There is a toilet behind that door if you need it,” he said, pointing to the wall opposite the gun safes and weapons. “Other than that, stay put. If I find you creeping around my home in the middle of the night, I’ll assume the worst. Stay here until I come for you. Is that understood?”