Bug Out! Part 8: RV Park Terror (22 page)

BOOK: Bug Out! Part 8: RV Park Terror
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“Well?” George asked.

“I did it for the fun, mostly,” Malcolm said. “Although the fear part, and just taking out some inbreed trash are also part of the reward.”

“Alright, I get it,” George said. “Just be careful, man. You played games during the Beckler case, and it almost got you killed.”

“Don’t worry,” Malcolm said. “I’ll behave when the chips are down.”

Heidi rolled her eyes. “Just make sure we all get back home in one piece, okay? As for the enemy, don’t think I care about them for one minute. I’ll even help you guys kill them. I didn’t do so bad in the Sailor Boy case, remember?”

“Hell, you did pretty well in the Beckler case too,” Malcolm said. “I remember what you did with the queen bee. That was brilliant, and you saved an innocent in the process. You have my respect, Heidi, and that’s the truth.”

“Jill,” Heidi said, a faraway look in her eye. “Hadn’t thought about her for a long time.”

“Well, enough reminiscing,” George said. “I want that assault rifle up front all the time while we’re up in the Rockies. Think you can handle that thing while I’m driving?”

“I do okay with it at the range,” Heidi said. “It’s not my favorite, but I can hit the target with it. I’d rather use my 20 gauge.”

“You have to be too close with that, but if you’d feel better, we can put that up front too.”

“I’d like that, George,” Heidi said. “Wish Malcolm had somebody with him.”

“Don’t worry about me,” he said. “Let’s keep me in the lead, though. That way you two can watch my tail.”

“Yeah, that worked pretty well before,” George said.

“You going to reply to that email?” Heidi asked.

“Yeah,” Malcolm said, “as soon as I’m done with this burger, and get a chance to clean my hands. It’s messy, but good.”

Back at the Kansas RV Park, Terry was putting the wheels back on the trailer. Trish came out the door with a glass of ice water.

“Have a drink, honey,” she said, handing him the glass. He smiled and drank it down quickly.

“Thanks, sweetie. Getting pretty hot out here,” he said.

“Having any trouble?”

“No, this is easy,” he said. “It was harder getting them off.”

“What’re we going to use to tow this?”

“You’re dad said we could use the bobtail,” Terry said.

“What’s he gonna use?”

“Sounds like Kurt’s toad,” Terry said. “His trailer is so light, that he could use several of the vehicles. One of Kurt’s rental coaches could pull it too.”

“Oh, the ones that Earl and Jackson are in?”

“Yeah,” Terry said. “Of course one of them is being used to tow that backhoe.”

“What else do you have to do after the wheels?”

“Not too much. Put in the new battery, put the full propane tank back on the trailer, and replace the light harness connector. I’ll get all of it but the connector done before it gets dark.”

“That’s not so bad,” she said. “I wish we didn’t have to leave.”

“Well, maybe we won’t, at least for a while,” Terry said. “You know it’s possible that we’ll be successful taking out the leadership. If they’re gone and the enemy forces get defeated, we won’t have a big target on our backs anymore.”

“Well, it’s something to hope for,” she said.

Terry lifted the second wheel up onto the lugs and started putting the nuts on with his fingers.

“You know, this place isn’t going to be a good business,” Terry said. “If the world gets back to normal, we’ll have to make a living eventually. This place is too far from the interstate to do well.”

“My dad had a good electronics business going,” Trish said. “If he can open that back up again, maybe you could come in as a partner.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” Terry said. “I don’t see myself getting back into the law enforcement business. Not really my thing.”

“Good, I don’t want to worry about you all the time,” she said.

Terry tightened the lug nuts. “Time to go on the other side of the trailer,” he said. “Two more wheels to go.”

“Okay, I’ll leave you alone. Let me know if you need help.”

He nodded, picked up the other two wheels, and carried them around to the other side.

Jeb, Kurt, and Charlie were sitting down in the lounge. Rosie approached the trap door in the barn.

“You down there, Jeb?” she shouted.

“Yeah, honey,” Jeb said. “Want to come down?”

“Yes, I like. Time for cocktails,” she said.

Jeb looked sheepishly over at the others, and went over to help her down the stairs. She made it down pretty easily.

“Couch or bar?” Jeb asked.

“Put stool behind bar. I tend,” she said. “Fill ice bucket, please?”

“Sure, honey. I guess it’s time to wet our whistles.”

He got her set up back there, filled the ice bucket, and filled the pitcher with water, too.

“Who want drink?” she called.

“Well, I guess it’s post time,” Kurt said, laughing. “It’s after five o clock. Just don’t let me get too trashed, or Mary will be upset with me.” He walked over to the bar with Charlie, and they got on stools. Jeb joined them.

Rosie got a mischievous look on her face.

“Look out,” Jeb said. “She’s going to say something naughty.”

“No I not!” Rosie said, snickering. “Maybe Kurt needs Weng Weng.”

“Oh, no you don’t,” Kurt said. “I heard about those suckers. Just pour me a Jameson on the rocks.”

“Scaredy cat,” she said, laughing. “Okay, customer always right.”

“So what do you think of the guests we got coming?” Jeb asked. “Make you guys nervous?”

“I don’t know much about them,” Charlie said. “Hilda told me a few things. They just sound like bounty hunters to me, but they take the
Dead or Alive
part more seriously than most do in this century.”

“Hey, you guys starting without me?” said a voice at the trap door. It was the Sheriff. He came down and took the last bar stool.

“Hi, Sheriff,” Rosie said. “Want drink?”

“Any Wild Turkey down there?”

Rosie looked, and got a grin on her face. She picked up the bottle and put it on the bar. “There is. You want ice?”

“Naw, just get out the shot glasses,” he said.

“That sounds good to me, too, Rosie,” Jeb said. Charlie nodded at her, so she got out shot glasses for them and herself, lining them up and filling them. Everybody took theirs and held them.

“Here’s to us,” the Sheriff said, raising his. Then they all drank them fast and put them down on the bar.

“Whew, that stuff is raspy,” Charlie said, shuddering.

“Don’t be light weight,” Rosie said. “Another?”

“Sure,” he said. Rosie poured.

“Sheriff, we were just talking about the guests we got coming,” Charlie said. “What do you think about them?”

“I don’t know much about George, but there’s been a lot of discussion about Malcolm in law enforcement circles. You know he was forced off of the LAPD, right?”

“You mean he was fired?” Jeb asked.

“No, they didn’t fire him,” the Sheriff said. “They gave him crap work. Mostly interviews. He was too much of a liability to the department. He got the message eventually, and took early retirement.”

“Oh,” Charlie said.

“Was he a good cop?” Kurt asked.

“I wouldn’t have wanted to be his boss,” the Sheriff said.

“Why?” Jeb asked. “He got results, right?”

“Well, yeah, he cracked several big cases,” the Sheriff said. “He didn’t handle the success with grace, though. He wanted attention. He liked the limelight too much. But that wasn’t the big problem.”

“What was the big problem?” Kurt asked.

“He was judge, jury, and executioner more than once,” the Sheriff said. “There’s a word for that.”

“Which is?” Jeb asked.

“Murder.”

Chapter 17 – Summit Park

George and Heidi were
going slowly up the long grade. The V-10 was pulling about five thousand rpm, filling the cockpit with engine noise, enough that the two couldn’t talk. Heidi was working her iPhone, but then she put it down, frustrated.

“No service,” she shouted. George looked over at her and nodded. He was getting tired. They were into the Rockies about an hour now. His eyes were dried out, his right leg was starting to ache, and his arms were tired from the switchbacks. He gave up trying to keep his speed above fifty. They were climbing along at about forty.

“Maybe we need to trade this sucker in on the way home,” Heidi shouted.

“Yeah, maybe,” George shouted back. He settled into his own head for a while. He was glad to be on the road, but he was nervous. Some of the bad guys that he’d fought in the Middle East were going to be involved. He could feel it more and more as they traveled. His mind kept going back to the dark period, after Sadie left him. He was wracked with PTSD then. Depressed, paranoid, retreating into his own mind. Heidi helped bring him out of that then.
Would that work again?
Maybe she was too tired. Maybe it would finally sink their relationship. Could he power through it himself? When the invasions first hit the news in California, he had that old feeling again, and worked hard to push it back. The Martial Law helped; it made him angry, and that helped him to get through the anxiety. Working with Malcolm helped, too, in a strange way. Malcolm had originally been his therapist for a couple of sessions. Now they were partners, but they were together constantly, and talked all the time. Malcolm was very sensitive to where his head was at. Some of their recent conversations were very reminiscent of the therapy days.

The road leveled out, and that helped with the noise. The rpm came down to about three grand as the engine shifted, and they got back up to about sixty mph.

“Finally,” Heidi said. “We hit the peak yet?”

“No, I don’t think so. Better enjoy it while we can.”

“How’re you holding up, honey? Want me to take over?”

“No, I’m still okay,” George said.

“You don’t look okay,” Heidi said. “I saw your brow furrowing. What’re you worried about?”

“Same old,” he said. “Running into demons from my past, real and imagined.”

“It’ll be alright,” she said, looking intensely at him. “Trust me. I’ll be here for you too, you know.”

“That’s part of what scares me,” George says. “You’re going to get tired of this.”

“Oh,
please
,” Heidi said. “If I could have walked, I would have done it after the Jason Beckler case. I was really upset over that, but I was more in love with you than I was upset with you. It’s still the same…” She took a long pause.

“What?”

“No, it’s not the same,” Heidi said. “I’m more in love with you now than I was before. You’re my life.”

“What if I have problems with PTSD again?” George asked.

“I figured that was part of what you were worried about,” she said. “Between Malcolm and me, we’ll keep you centered. You
can
go to another therapist too, you know. You don’t have that kind of relationship with Malcolm anymore.”

“I know,” George said. His phone rang. “Guess we have service again.” He pulled it out and answered.

“Hi, Malcolm, what’s up?”

“I’m going to need another break. There’s a place coming up called Summit Park. Let’s stop there.”

“Good idea, I could use a short break too, Malcolm. I’ll follow you off.”

“Okay, see you soon.”

George put his phone back in his pocket.

“Where does he want to stop?” Heidi asked.

“Summit Park. I’m glad. I could use a stretch myself.”

“Hopefully the name means that it’ll be downhill from there.”

“Yeah, hopefully,” George said. He looked over at her. “I love you more than I did in the old days, too. I don’t think I could live without you.”

She smiled back at him, her eyes misting.

They rode along silently for a few minutes, and then Malcolm turned on his right blinker and headed for the off ramp. George followed. They pulled into a truck stop.

“You need gas already?” Heidi asked.

“I could top it off,” George said. “Might as well, since we’re here.”

He got out, and Heidi followed him. “Want a snack or some coffee from the store?”

“How about both,” George said.

“What?”

“Surprise me, honey,” he said as he started fueling. Malcolm walked over.

“Good to get away from the driver’s seat for a few minutes,” he said.

“You need gas?”

“Just topping off,” Malcolm said.

“Any news?”

“Not really,” Malcolm said. “Ted called, and told me that Colorado was hot, especially around Denver, but we already knew that.”

“Why’s the army messing around with these creeps?” George asked.

“Too many of our troops are still in Mexico, I suspect,” Malcolm said. “Haven’t seen anything at all about our incident back there.”

“Really? I’m surprised. Maybe it made the local news back there, at least.”

“Probably,” Malcolm replied. “We still good to make it to Wamsutter?”

“Well, I should be asking you that question,” George said. “I’ve got a relief driver, remember?”

“Don’t rub it in,” he said, chuckling. “I’m okay, though. I’m actually loving every minute of this, and that pusher is like driving my easy chair.”

“Now
you’re
rubbing it in,” George said, laughing. “Heidi wanted to know if this place really is the summit.”

“Tired of those grades, I take it.”

“You guessed it.” George said.

“Well, it’s mostly downhill from here, but there are a few grades here and there as we navigate the topography. You can tell her that we’re past the worst of it, though.”

“You guys talking about me?” Heidi asked, walking up with a bag.

“I was just asking Malcolm if we were past the worst of the grade yet.”

“Well?” she asked.

“Mostly,” Malcolm said. “The worst is behind us now, sugar plum.”

“Good,” Heidi said.

“No coffee?” George asked.

“It smelled burned and nasty,” Heidi said, “so I got us cokes instead. Okay?”

“Sure,” George said.

“I got one for Malcolm too,” she said, pulling one out of the bag and handing it to him.

“Ah, thanks,” Malcolm said. “This’ll hit the spot.”

“We ought to be going,” George said. “We’ve got a ways to go yet.”

“Okay, I’ll see you two in Wyoming,” Malcolm said.

BOOK: Bug Out! Part 8: RV Park Terror
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