The Forgotten Eden (52 page)

“
Yeah, I believe I can.”

“
Good. Make sure you do, because if I’m spared any unnecessary distractions, I might be able to get us home by tonight. What time have you got there, anyway?”

“
It’s five minutes past four,” said Jack, showing him the watch’s glowing digital display.

“
I think our chances of making my prediction come true are pretty damn good.”

Jeremy pulled the truck back onto the highway, heading north. Jack started to say something, wondering why they didn’t just turn around and head south. Jeremy immediately gave him a look that said ‘Just trust me, damn it!’

Jack closed his mouth and settled back against the bench seat. Before long, they reached the residential areas of Hagerstown and came up on a large apartment community called ‘Brook Meadows’. Jeremy pulled into the open gate, driving the truck around to the rear, where he parked next to a large trash bin.

“
Wait here,” he told Jack after he cut the engine.

He didn’t return for nearly twenty minutes. When he did, he was driving a new Toyota hybrid.

He motioned for Jack to grab the flashlight and map, and less than five minutes later, they were back on I-81. Only this time headed south.

The maroon sedan came with all of the modern comforts the brothers were normally accustomed to. The digital clock in the Toyota’s dashboard read 4:41 a.m. when they reached the I-40 overpass. Jeremy exited there, heading east toward Frederich, Maryland. Despite even more questions pertaining to where the hell they headed, Jack still didn’t interfere with Jeremy’s plan.

“
We’re heading east, as obviously you’ve noticed,” said Jeremy, acknowledging Jack’s ever-increasing restlessness. “It may seem risky, but we’re on our way back to D.C. via I-270. ‘Back into the hornet’s nest’, I’ll bet you’re thinking. There’s a definite method to this madness, and I’ll bet we’re at least a step ahead of whoever’s looking for us.

“
I’m thinking once we get through D.C., we’ll get onto I-95 and take it south through Richmond. From there we should be able to get onto I-85. At least, that’s what I gathered when I looked at the map earlier. You can confirm it in the car’s GPS system if you’d like.”

Jack took a moment to do that, navigating through the Toyota’s dash program that presented a detailed map of their location in Virginia.

“
Yeah, it does, Jeremy,” he confirmed. “It looks like we’ll reach I-85 near Petersburg.”

“
Okay…. Once we’re on I-85, it should be a straight shot through North and South Carolina, all the way down to Atlanta,” Jeremy continued. “From there, we’ll take I-20 into Alabama and straight home to Tuscaloosa.”

“‘
Sounds like a decent plan,” Jack told him. He reclined in his seat. “I just hope we make it back home in one piece.”

“
Me too, Jackie. Me too.”

They pulled onto I-270 south around 5:40 a.m., just as an array of brilliant pink, blue, and orange colors spread across the sky above them from the east. Within the hour, they passed through the nation’s capital and were well on their way to Richmond. Jack finally was able to relax once they safely cleared D.C.’s city limits.

They raced through Richmond and decided to pull over for breakfast once they approached Petersburg. Jeremy found a Denny’s just off the highway and sent Jack inside to grab a couple of breakfasts to go. He first gave him the Peterbilt ball cap to wear again, pulling down the cap’s bill to partially conceal Jack’s eyes. Then, he gave him enough cash to pay for their food.

Just past seven-thirty, Jack entered the crowded restaurant. The first thing he noticed was the large television set above the cashier booth. A special national report had interrupted whatever program had previously been in progress. He approached the hostess stand, ready to place his order, when a female reporter began giving details of a brutal multiple homicide involving five federal agents near Arlington, Virginia. Everyone in the immediate area turned toward the television.

According to the report, four of the five agents had been shot more than once, with all five receiving fatal wounds to the head. One of the slain agents was found stuffed into the trunk of his car, thirty miles north of the original crime scene.

“
Those
bastards
,” whispered Jack, scarcely believing the FBI or police had gone to such trouble of making sure he Jeremy seemed like the most vicious rogues possible. Why else would they transfer Agent McNamee’s corpse to the other sedan he and Jeremy had taken and later abandoned? They must really be worried someone might learn the truth of what went on inside the government’s covert operation near Manassas Park.

The reporter went on to identify the assailants as ‘twenty-five-year-old Jeremy Alexander Kenney and his twenty-one-year-old brother, Jack Francis Kenney’. Cold sweat formed between Jack’s shoulder blades and trickled down his back. He fought to hide his nervousness while placing his order.

”
We should have it ready in just a few minutes, sir.”

He didn’t immediately hear the hostess, but when he realized she was talking to him, he allowed her to direct him over to a nearby wooden bench. He hoped she hadn’t seen the driver’s license photos of him and his brother plastered just now across the television screen

As he sat down, the reporter stated the authorities investigating the ‘terrible crime’ believed the Kenney brothers were heading north to Canada. Jack felt somewhat relieved at this news, until the woman also advised the FBI had posted a ‘one hundred and fifty thousand dollar reward for any information leading to the capture of these dangerous fugitives’.

It felt like everyone’s eyes in the restaurant were on him, and he looked down at his feet. It wasn’t until the news report moved onto other items that he peered out from under the bill of his cap. Only two patrons actually looked in his general direction, perhaps not even noticing the young man seated near the restrooms.

“
...
In other news, the death toll from the F-5 tornado that struck near Meridian, Mississippi last night has risen to 85 confirmed, with another 210 people still unaccounted for. Authorities from that area are now stating the earlier reports, which depicted the deadly twister as an odd anomaly that seemed to have a golden glow and that one witness described as a ‘twisting golden tower of destruction’, were greatly exaggerated. Regardless, the victims already confirmed from the tornado’s path make it one of the worst natural tragedies to hit the area in the past one hundred years. It is the second major weather disaster to hit the state of Mississippi since Hurricane Katrina decimated Gulfport and Biloxi in 2005
....”

Jack stared numbly at the television, his mind stuck like a broken record on the phrase ‘twisting golden tower of destruction’. It repeated over and over in his head, the steady drone of his pulse throbbing while he fought to remain calm. In desperation, he closed his eyes and took several slow deep breaths, praying this effort wouldn’t make him stand out.

“
Here you go, sir!”

The hostess abruptly grabbed his attention. He’d been so involved with his breathing exercise that he failed to notice the television station had returned to its original programming, a local bass fishing show.

It took less than twenty minutes for the cooks to prepare two hefty orders of bacon, eggs, and pancakes, but seemed more like an hour to him. After paying for the food and two coffees, he gathered the pair of large bags that contained everything and smiled at the hostess. She returned his smile, but something in her eyes made him certain his nervousness didn’t go unnoticed.

Jack quickly made his way back to the car, where he started telling Jeremy about the news report and his suspicion the hostess may have recognized him. He did this before safely inside the sedan’s protective privacy, much to his brother’s irritation.

“
Calm down, Jackie!” chided Jeremy. “Now’s not the time or place to lose your cool! Here, you hold onto this shit and let me get us back on the highway.”

Jeremy seemed to take the news reports in stride, never revealing how it affected him. But, the mere fact he wasted little time in getting on I-270 again said all that was needed.

The brothers ate their breakfast while heading south, and soon merged onto I-85. By nine o’clock they had left Virginia and were well on their way to Greensboro, North Carolina. They stopped briefly in Durham to fill up the car with gas, and purchased two pairs of sunglasses and another baseball cap.

They arrived in Charlotte around 12:30 p.m. They took their lunch at a local Wendy’s, and were back on the road in less than ten minutes. By then, Jeremy was running out of steam, since neither one had slept in more than twenty-four hours. Stating he had enough resources to last another hour or two, he let Jack sleep while he drove to Greenville, South Carolina.

Once they neared Greenville’s outskirts, Jeremy decided it was time to replace the rest of their wardrobe. He pulled off the highway and drove until he found a discount department store, settling on Target since it was the first one he found. As before, Jack went inside to purchase their supplies. Disguised in the new ball cap and sunglasses, he picked up two pairs of jeans and a couple of dark T-shirts apiece for him and Jeremy, along with two packs of underwear briefs and socks. He made excellent time until he neared the audio/entertainment department.

Unable to resist temptation, he slipped in amongst a row of TVs on display. Determined to remain nonchalant, he turned one of the sets to CNN Headline News. Since three o’clock, he hoped to catch the latest developments in the search for him and his brother. His hunch proved correct. But the updated report indicated serious trouble. Local agencies and other authorities had since joined the intensified manhunt, and the worst bit of news was the fact the search had shifted to the southeastern region of the country.

Jack moved purposively to the checkout counters, hoping to blend in with the other shoppers around him. After he paid for the clothes, he fought the urge to simply run out of the store, maintaining a steady pace all the way to the car. After climbing into the front seat, he explained the latest developments to Jeremy.

“
Damn it!
”
Furious, Jeremy slapped his open palm against the steering wheel.

The bad news immediately revived him. Once they exited the parking lot, Jeremy made a beeline for the highway. He remained focused like this until they were safely in Georgia, at which point Jack heard him whisper a prayer of thanksgiving for no roadblocks…yet.

“
I believe it’s time to make another switch, Jackie, as far as our mode of transportation is concerned,” he said. “We need to do it before we reach Atlanta. We’ll have a better chance of avoiding detection with local plates on our vehicle.”

Jeremy made his move near Braselton, Georgia, this time securing a late model Jeep from a local supermarket. For the third time, they gathered their gear and moved into a new vehicle, carelessly leaving the Toyota nearby. At first Jack worried about this, since it seemed like leaving an open invitation to their pursuers. But once they made it through Atlanta and were on I-20 with a full tank of gas, he felt a little better about their situation. But he overheard an older couple discussing state-line roadblocks at the BP station they’d just left. By then, sheer exhaustion and the sinking feeling that time was running out were already taking a toll on them both. Jack prayed the abundance of coffee and Max Alerts and a little more luck would get them at least to Birmingham.

As they approached the border of Alabama and the likely prospect of a roadblock, Jeremy suddenly headed south on Highway 100 near Jake, Georgia. Far too tired to even question this maneuver, Jack thought instead about his stomach that had begun rumbling again. At this point he would’ve given most anything for a decent meal and a good night’s rest—if either or both could be safely obtained.

6:40 p.m., according to the Jeep’s clock. For almost twenty minutes they stayed on Highway 100 until it flirted with the Alabama state line. At that point, Jeremy switched over to Highway 48, leaving the state of Georgia behind near the Alabama town of Graham. He followed the highway until they reached another small town, called Wedowee, where they exited onto Highway 431 north, taking this historic thoroughfare until it brought them back to I-20 again.

Safely inside Alabama without the confrontation Jack expected, Jeremy let out a triumphant whoop. They now sped toward Birmingham, the last stop before they would reach Tuscaloosa. Despite the prospect of a smooth ride home, Jack wasn’t able to join his brother’s celebration. He couldn’t stop thinking about everything that had happened during the past few days. Drained and saddened, it all reminded him again of the horror he experienced with Genovene so long ago.

Much had changed since a carefree thirteen-year-old kid in Carlsdale. Granted, things change for most folks as they grow up. But, the continual impact on his life from that misadventure seemed like it would never end. Jeremy and Grandpa’s lives had changed nearly as much, and for all three, there was no turning back to reach that simpler time. Yet, what loomed on the horizon seemed assuredly more ominous. The rendezvous he and Jeremy were irresistibly drawn to might shape the course of history in ways most human beings could scarcely imagine.

***

A beautiful sunset, far more magnificent than the wonderful sunrise they witnessed earlier, spread steadily across the western sky. The type of natural, yet simple, event that inspires one to hope and give thanks for being alive. Jack smiled wearily. He hoped there would be many more spectacular sunsets to see. But it all depended on what awaited them at 1016 South Queens Court.