Desperate Times (34 page)

“Hey, can I bum a smoke from you? I haven’t
had one in days.”

“Sure,” said Jimmy, tossing him the freshly
opened pack. “You can keep ‘em, I’ve got plenty.”

Sharpen nodded gratefully. He dug out a
lighter from his jeans and lit up a cigarette, blowing out the
smoke slowly. “Ah, that’s better. Thanks, Jimmy Logan.”

Jimmy studied the man. He had a presence
about him; he stood tall and carried himself with authority. “So
Burt, do you mind if I call you that?”

“That’s my name,” he said with a grin. His
square jaw was dimpled and scarred.

“Right,” said Jimmy. “Burt. How do you fit in
with everyone here?”

Burt drew on his cigarette and inhaled
deeply. “That’s an interesting story. The short of it is that I
don’t. I was alone on the road and just followed that bunch of
lunatics here. They didn’t seem to mind. They’re a strange bunch;
they really are. Anyhow, I was up fishing with a buddy who had a
place just north of town. It’s gone now, all burnt up. He’s gone,
too; took a bullet in the neck. Big Hank was his name. Best cop I
ever knew.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Me too, Hank was a good friend. We tried to
stand and fight, but there were too many of them. I told Hank that
our only hope was to make a run for it. I thought he was right
behind me. I should’ve known better. He tried standing them off by
himself and they shot him down. I hid in the bushes. I watched what
they did. I studied their faces and I’m going to make them pay for
what they done to Hank. I owe him that much.”

Jimmy nodded and was sure that Burt Sharpen
meant every word of that. He could tell by looking into his hooded
eyes that here was a man to be reckoned with. “That’s terrible,” he
said.

“They stole whatever we had that was worth a
dog’s fart and then they shot the hell out of Hank’s pickup. After
that, they put a match to the place and watched it—and Hank—burn.
All I had was my service revolver and this rifle. Everything else
was gone. After a while, they hopped on their motorcycles and tore
outta there. Damn biker trash! Wait until I see them again.”

“Biker trash?” said Jimmy. “What sort of
biker trash?”

“Some motorcycle shitheads that call
themselves the Devils
.
Ever hear of them? They’re back there
in Ely—at least they were.”

“I’ve met them,” said Jimmy. “We had a run-in
at the rest area outside of Duluth.”

“And you’re still here to talk about it? This
I’ve got to hear.”

Jimmy told Burt the story about what had
happened that evening, leaving nothing out except how afraid he had
been. He told him that they’d lost Tom Bauer and Billy Campbell in
the gunfight. Jimmy even told Burt that he somehow felt responsible
for their deaths.

“Jimmy,” he said, “sometimes, there’s just
nothing you can do. You’re damn lucky to be alive. Those are some
serious assholes. I’ve busted a few over the years.”

“Cop, huh?” asked Jimmy.

“Detective, I retired after fifteen years
working homicide. Hell of a way to start my retirement, huh?”

“Well, I’m glad to meet you, sir,” Jimmy
said, taking the big man’s hand and shaking it once more. “Have you
had anything to eat? Can I get you anything?”

“I’d kill to get my hands on a Coke and a
Snickers bar,” said Burt. “I don’t suppose you have anything like
that in there, do you? I had a sandwich for lunch.”

Jimmy thought about that. Brenda had cleaned
out all of the junk food inside the shed. There was nothing like
that inside the house. He suddenly remembered the backpacks that he
and Jon had left them in the woods, that morning. “I’ll be right
back,” said Jimmy, and he began to run down the road.

Twenty
-
Five

Watch for those ready to politicize our
country’s financial woes. These people are planting misinformation
and are not to be trusted, as both sides of the political spectrum
are to blame for this looming crisis. The best we can do is to find
a place to meet in the middle and to abandon those who refuse to
move from either end of the lunatic fringe.

They met down at the corner of the road, two
hundred yards from the gate. There were four of them—Ken, Jon,
Jimmy, and Burt Sharpen. Everyone else seemed to be over at
Sally’s, listening to Sister Margaret’s mysterious sermon. Burt had
eaten three of Jimmy’s candy bars and had slugged down two warm
Cokes. Jimmy had given them to him gladly. The big cop was a
welcome addition to their group. Burt had introduced himself to Ken
up at the gate. He then recounted his story, once again adding that
he was a retired detective from Minneapolis.

“That woman has turned into one huge pain in
the ass,” began Ken with a growl. “Sister Margaret wants to take
over. I’ve been listening to her over there. She sure knows how to
work a crowd.”

“So I’ve heard,” said Jimmy.

“She doesn’t want anyone to go to Ely,” said
Ken, dryly. “She says that would be stealing. Can you believe it?
She’s telling them that God has provided plenty for them to eat, in
the lakes and forests.”

“You ever eat a pine tree?” asked Burt.

“No, I haven’t,” said Jon.

“Me either,” said Jimmy. “Can you do
that?”

Ken smiled. “Sorry boys,” he said, “that
must’ve been before your time.”

“Damn, I sure feel old,” said Burt.

Ken continued. “She’s selling these people on
the idea that God has been talking to her. That they’re the chosen
ones and that the rapture is near. That it’s coming any day, any
minute
.
They’re eating it up. I couldn’t believe my own
ears. It’s like they’ve all lost their minds. Forget about adding
to the wall. That’s not going to happen. I don’t think we’ll find
any volunteers to go into town tonight, either. Not the way she’s
talking. They’re all scared to death, but for all the wrong
reasons. That’s why they’re all putting their trust in her. She’s
put the fear of God into them.”

“That
bitch
,” said Jon. “What the hell
are they going to live on, roots and berries? Squirrels? That’s a
laugh. We should just give them a couple of days. They’ll come
around.”

“I don’t think we have a couple of days,”
said Ken. “I think she’s going to make her move soon, maybe even
today. You should’ve heard her. You’d know exactly what I
mean.”

“So what can we do?” asked Jimmy. “Should we
go back inside and lock the gate?”

“We can’t do that,” said Ken. “There’s still
a chance that some of our people over there are smart enough to see
her for what she really is. Who knows? We can’t lock everyone out
just because they’re over there, listening to her.”

“Is everyone there?” asked Jimmy. “I can’t
believe she got everyone to walk over there.”

“She didn’t. Besides us and Patty, we have
Julie and Ted on the porch. Upstairs, we’ve still got Paula and her
family and Clark, or whatever his name is.”

“Carl,” corrected Jon.

“Right,” said Ken. “They’re still sleeping.
Then we’ve got Rita and Cindy down in the basement. Rita’s teaching
her how to paint. That’s it. The rest of our group is over
there.”

“Painting what?” asked Jimmy.

“How the hell should I know?” snapped Ken.
“What difference does it make? I think they’re painting sunsets or
something. I don’t know. They’re sure using a lot of orange.”

“Sunsets are beautiful,” said Jon.

Ken gave Jon an odd look, shook his head and
continued. “I don’t know. I say we still risk the trip into town.
The longer we wait, the more dangerous it’ll be. What do you guys
think?”

“You’re right about that,” said Burt. “If the
Guard made a sweep through town a few days ago, we might have a
good chance of sneaking back in. If we’re going to do this, we’d
better do it now. I’m in.”

“Me too,” said Jimmy. “We could be back here
in a couple of hours, three at the most. Let’s do it.”

“A trip into town?” asked Jon. “I’ll have to
change. These shoes don’t go with this hat. It’ll only take me a
minute.”

“Will you stop it?” asked Ken, rolling his
eyes. “This is serious. Are you in?”

“I was being serious.”

Burt eyed Jon. “Okay,” he said to Ken. “It’s
the three of us. You’ll have to stay back and keep an eye on
things. Don’t get drawn into a confrontation with that woman. If
push comes to shove, get out of there and head into the woods,”
Burt said, pointing to the tall pine that stood at the corner of
the road and the woods, beyond. “Tie something around the branch of
that tree. That way we’ll know that you’re out there. If we see
something tied there, we’ll come in and find you. Don’t wait by the
road, get at least half a mile in. Do you got that?”

“Agreed,” said Ken. “I hope it doesn’t come
to that.”

“Can three of us fit into the cab of that
truck?” Burt asked Jimmy.

“Sure,” said Jimmy. “It’ll be tight, but I’m
sure we can squeeze in.”

“Let’s get going then. We’re burning
daylight.”

“I’ll meet you at the truck. I won’t be a
minute,” said Jon, who turned and sprinted for the house.

Ken shook his head; his face was red.

“You know he’s only doing that to pull your
chain, Ken,” said Jimmy, smiling. “He’d stop if you’d quit letting
it get to you.”

“Gay, huh?” said Burt. “I knew it as soon as
I seen him. Big deal; I’ve got a brother who’s gay. All that
matters to me is how he performs in the field. Can this guy
shoot?”

“Oh, he can shoot all right,” said Ken.

“That’s good enough for me.”

“Speaking of that,” said Ken, “let’s get you
guys some guns.”

“Thanks,” said Burt, “but I’ve got my
own.”

“You might change your mind after you’ve seen
these,” said Jimmy. “Trust me.”

Twenty
-
Six

Up until the Great Depression, major
currencies were regulated by the gold standard. This meant that for
every banknote printed, the country would have the gold to back it
up. The United Kingdom was the first country to abolish the gold
standard, and the rest of the world soon followed. As strange as it
sounds, the countries that first abandoned the gold standard were
the first to recover from the depression.

Jimmy had been right; it’d been a very tight
squeeze. He’d underestimated the size of their new friend and had
overestimated the size of the cab. Jimmy drove. Jon held two of the
M-16s between his legs which were jammed up against the gearshift.
Burt rode on the far side, crunched against the window. Ken had
insisted they take six clips apiece, Jimmy stowed them under the
bench seat. Uncomfortable as it was, it felt good to be moving in a
vehicle again.

The afternoon sun was poking in and out of
the clouds. There didn’t appear to be any risk of rain. Burt had
his window cracked and the breeze was just enough to cool the
inside of the cab. They got onto the highway and Jimmy fought with
the gearshift, pushing Jon’s legs over, trying to find the right
gears.

“I wish Hank and I would’ve had a couple of
these back at his place,” said Burt, admiring his assault rifle.
“He’d still be alive. Damn those assholes. I really miss him.”

“Do you think they’ll be in town?” Jimmy
asked, steering the Mack around a tight corner.

“The Devils? Nah, my guess is that they’re
not too far away, though. We’re going to have to keep an eye out
for them. They’re sneaky bastards.”

“I think we should park the truck outside of
town and go in on foot,” said Jon. “You know the place, Jimmy. We
should climb that hill again and get a good look at town before we
move in.”

“Sounds good to me,” agreed Jimmy.

“That’s a good idea. You guys lead the way.
I’ll keep up,” said Burt.

They drove in silence for a while, the tires
humming on the asphalt as they continued toward Ely. The Mack was
eating up large chunks of the road they had walked the day before.
Jimmy was soon downshifting as they drew closer to town.

“Up ahead, Jimmy, on the right,” said Jon.
“There’s a driveway. Pull in there.”

Jimmy saw the place and nodded. He swung the
truck wide and barely made it into the narrow driveway that had
been cut into the woods. They bounced down the rutted road and
quarter mile inside, they came to a clearing where they found a
smoldering pile of ashes. Jimmy saw two burnt-out skeletons of what
had once been automobiles. He turned the truck around and parked it
on the lawn, well out of sight of anyone who might pass by on the
road. Burt was first to step down from the cab. He walked over to
where the cabin had once been. He suddenly stopped and returned to
the truck.

“Don’t go over there. It’s not a pretty
sight,” he said.

“I’ll take your word for it,” said Jimmy,
smelling a foul odor in the air.

“How many?” asked Jon.

“Hard to tell, I counted five. Looks like a
young family. Look there, in the sand,” Burt said, pointing to the
unmistakable tracks of motorcycles. “They’ve been here.”