The First Hours Page 10

  Teagan nodded over her shoulder, and Ryan could see the man had walked closer to them. “I guess we better get those kids loaded up and get on the road,” he said, trying to placate her.

  Ryan figured he would learn most everything of value about Teagan on the trip home. “Rule one. She only argues when she knows what she’s talking about,” he said softly. He didn’t understand the need to see the woman and kids home, but he wouldn’t argue with her. As she said it was only a short distance out of their way and seeing as they were headed the same direction, he didn’t see a big problem. At least not right then.

  Ryan followed Teagan back to the car and found the woman had already packed up her belongings. Three suitcases were stacked on the ground in front of the open trunk as well as a mound of loose things. Clothing, toys, car seat and a diaper bag.

  Ryan’s eyes popped open with the amount of stuff the lady wanted to take and knew Teagan was going to have to talk to her. Before he had the chance to say anything, Teagan dropped to her knees in front of the two boys. He couldn’t hear what she’d told them, but both boys selected one toy each from the pile. When the lady began to protest, Teagan stood, took her by her arm and led her to the front of the car. Ryan could only guess at what Teagan told her from the myriad of emotions that crossed the woman’s face.

  When the woman followed Teagan back to the car door, Teagan leaned toward the two little boys and pointed at Ryan, “This is Ryan, and he’s going to take us all home, and we have to do everything he tells us.”

  The little boy pulled his thumb from his mouth long enough to ask, “Even you?”

  “Yes, Kyle, even me.” She looked at Ryan, “Ryan, this is Kevin and Kyle. Kevin is the oldest, and he’s going to look after Kyle and help him.”

  Ryan wasn’t sure what to say to two little boys he didn’t know. He had no experience with little kids. They made him nervous. He didn’t know whether to talk baby-talk to them or talk the way he usually did. Ryan opted for normal. “Hey guys, how’s it going?”

  Neither boy answered him but dropped their heads shyly. He grimaced at Teagan, and she rolled her eyes at the pile of belongings. She obviously meant for him to say something, so he did. “You might want to put everything but what you can carry back in your car.” He looked at the woman, “I didn’t get your name?”

  “Madeline, but everyone calls me Maddy, and I can’t leave all our stuff here. What if someone steals it? We need everything there.”

  “And someone probably will, but the chances of you coming back for it are minimal. If you can’t carry it, you can’t take it.” From somewhere Ryan had pulled out a no-nonsense tone of voice, that surprised even him.

  Teagan nodded in approval, “Maddy, you’re going to have to carry the baby too. That carrier is too heavy and too bulky.”

  Maddy, to Teagan’s eyes, looked like she was going to cry when her chin began to quiver, and her eyes glazed over, a tear threatening to escape down her cheek. She now knew exactly how her father must have felt at times. More than once, Teagan had pulled the sad-face to get her own way.

  “Or you can stay here. It’s your choice, but we need to go.” Teagan looked at Ryan, who nodded his agreement with enthusiasm.

  “No…give me a moment.” Maddy set the baby she’d picked up back into the car seat and began going through the first suitcase. She set out a jacket for both boys and a plastic-wrapped bundle of diapers for the baby. She dumped the contents of the diaper bag on the ground and began to refill it with only the baby’s necessities. Diapers, rash cream, and a packet of wipes. She added a couple of baby blankets and a change of pajamas and put the boy’s jackets on top. With the baby in one arm, she slid the strap for the diaper bag over her shoulder. “Okay, we’re ready.”

  “You just going to leave the suitcases there?” Ryan was amazed that her attitude had done such a quick about-face. At first, she had to have it all and then she was going to just leave it slung all over. He didn’t think he’d ever understand how a woman’s thought process worked.

  Maddy looked at the mess she’d made rifling through them and nodded, “Like you said, we probably won’t be back if what Teagan told me is true.”

  “Pretty sure she told you the truth,” he said and held out his hand toward the twins. He had no idea how to tell them apart, but he waited for one of them to take his hand. When the twin that didn’t have his thumb in his mouth took it, he realized that’s how he could tell.

  “All right, Kevin, are you two ready?”

  When Kevin nodded, Ryan exchanged a look with Teagan, and they started off. They didn’t make it more than a hundred yards when shouting from behind stopped them in their tracks.

  Teagan pushed Maddy forward and told her, “Take the boys and keep walking. We’ll catch up.”

  With a quick look behind, Maddy grabbed Kevin’s hand and hurried away. She obviously had no urge to confront that man again.

  Teagan and Ryan stood side by side, waiting for the man to catch up. He came at a fast waddle muttering with every step. Had he not been so overweight, his size would have been impressive. Over six feet and wide. Now he was just out of shape, overweight and stranded like everyone else.

  When he tried to get in Teagan’s face, Ryan stepped in front of him and pushed him back, “That’s far enough. What do you want?”

  “You have something in those bags, and we need it.” He wiped the sweat from his face and glared at Teagan. “Give them here!”

  Teagan couldn’t help herself, and maybe her nerves allowed it to escape, but she laughed, “I don’t think so,” she said. “We need everything we have, and in case you didn’t notice, we have a few more people than you, so we’ll need all of it.”

  He reached out and tried to grab the shopping bags from Teagan. She swung them around and turning her back to them. “Get the hell away from me,” she hollered.

  He latched on to the backpack and drug her backward. She hunched her shoulders and twisted away. He hollered because now his fingers were intertwined in the strap. Ryan grabbed his arm and tried to force him to release the straps by digging in his nails. The man let out a scream and jerked his hand free. Teagan ran a few steps away and turned to see him throw a punch at Ryan who ducked under it. The man stumbled and almost went down when Ryan tripped him with his foot. Arms wind-milled and the man somehow caught himself before he hit the pavement. For a man of his weight, he proved to be pretty agile and surprised Ryan when he came up with a punch that bounced off the side of Ryan’s head. Ryan went down, and the man leaped on top of him. He began slapping Ryan across the face. Ryan struggled, and Teagan saw the problem Ryan faced. The man’s weight was enough to stop Ryan from breathing. His face turned red, and his eyes bulged. The only sound was the man’s ragged breathing and the slap of his hands across Ryan’s face. Teagan dropped the shopping bags and reached into her pouch, without looking Teagan released the safety and jabbed the man in the fat of his back.

  “Stop it, or I’m going to kill you!” she screamed because she didn’t think he’d hear her voice over his own raspy breathing. She hadn’t meant to threaten the man’s life, but they were the first words to jump from her mouth. The man froze, the full brunt of his weight pressing down on Ryan’s chest. Teagan pushed him with the barrel of the gun, “Get off him!”

  Eyes wide, the man rolled to the side and then as if he realized it was nothing more than a young girl hollering at him, he grinned and rolled onto his knees, “You better give that here little girl.”

  He held his big hand out toward Teagan and wiggled his fingers. His face went from playful to mean as he waited. Sweat ran down his forehead into his eyes. He wiped them clear with one meaty arm. “Now!” he demanded, “Before I forget you’re barely more than a girl.”

  Teagan backed up a step, to put herself out of his reach. Ryan had rolled to his side while he got his breath back. His hoarse breathing filled the silence of waiting.

  She looked back at the man who stretched his hand toward her, “How a
bout I put a hole in you and let out some of that fat?” She curled her lip in distaste, “what makes you think you have the right to steal from us? How is it that you think your kids deserve any more than those two little boys?”

  As she watched the emotions that crossed the fat man’s face, she wished she held the 357 that she usually used when she and her dad went to the range. There was just something more dramatic about cocking the hammer back than simply pointing this gun at the guy. Teagan’s heart pumped hard enough to burst through her chest, and her insides were shaking like a leaf. Bile crawled up the back of her throat, threatening to spill over, but the man never saw any of it. Teagan bit the inside of her cheeks to keep focused.

  The man immediately changed tactics. He sagged as if her mere words had defeated him. Teagan glanced at Ryan to see how he was doing, and the man lunged at her. Instinctively her finger clenched, the gun went off. The man screamed, dropped to the pavement, and began rolling around. Moaning, he squirmed, holding the side of his face. Blood leaked out between his fingers.

  “Oh my God!” Teagan moaned.

  She wheeled around and heaved bile on to the pavement. She hadn’t meant to pull the trigger. She hadn’t intended to actually shoot him, but she had, even if it was accidentally. The gun still hung from her finger, and she closed her fist around it. Standing straight, she wiped her mouth and rushed to Ryan, who was sitting up, staring at the fat guy. He looked up at her, and Teagan saw no accusatory expression, nor did he berate her for shooting an unarmed person. She hadn’t really meant to, but it had still happened. Teagan didn’t know if it was a fatal shot or not, and she didn’t want to stick around to find out. There would be no law enforcement coming, and no one was going to throw her in jail. She had done what she needed to do even if it was a reactionary reflex. Had it not happened the way it did, the man would have the gun in his possession, and she and Ryan could have been dead, and he would have taken all their supplies for himself leaving Maddy and the kids with nothing.

  Ryan struggled to his knees and pushed himself to his feet. The whites of his eyes showed all around the iris and were tinged red, “We have to go right now,” he gasped.

  Teagan pulled her gaze away from the moaning fat man and grasped Ryan’s arm, “Are you okay? Can you run?”

  Ryan nodded, his eyes bugged, Teagan whipped her head the direction he was focused on and saw the man’s wife, huffing her way to them. Her mouth was wide open in a silent scream, or the ringing in Teagan’s ears from the gunshot drowned the woman out.

  “Oh my God,” Ryan gasped, “Here they come.”

  Teagan followed his eyes again and saw coming up behind the fat lady was a group of young people drawn by the sound of Teagan’s gun.

  Teagan looked the other way and saw the other group Ryan had been talking to had disappeared. Maddy was standing in the middle of the road staring at the guy on the ground.

  “Run!” Teagan yelled at her, grabbed Ryan’s arm, and pulled him along. After a few steps, she dropped his arm and gave him a push, “Go. I’ll catch up. We dropped the bags, and we need them.” She shoved the gun into the hoody pocket and ran back the way they’d just come from.

  “Teagan watch out!”

  Chapter Eight

  Tom slid the last plastic basket in and shook the tarp out over them. They had fit well along with a food-grade thirty-gallon plastic barrel. The barrel held the rifles and several pistols he had decided not to take with him. When Tom had first set up his survival plan, he’d carefully oiled the parts, removed all fingerprints and vacuum packed them with his home vacuum system. Now, they were safe inside the sealed barrel. A half-dozen smaller orange buckets from Home Depot held all the ammunition he thought they would need if he ever needed to be well supplied. A separate bucket sat waiting to be loaded into the car. Tom had been careful to select rifles and handguns of the same caliber other than his .308 Winchester and a 30.06 Springfield he’d inherited from his father. Tom personally thought the .308 had a better accuracy range, but the shells he had loaded for his 30.06, with the help of a close friend, were loaded a little hotter than the .308. With both rifles placing well for accuracy in the 600-800-yard range, and in the hands of a skilled shooter either would hold its own for getting the job done. He had never been a fan of semi-automatics for hunting and thought the bolt action of his older rifles had less to go wrong in a critical moment.

  As Tom began to fill the hole back in, he hoped he never had to dig it back up. If he had to it, it would mean that things had gotten bad enough, he’d been forced into leaving. Leaving was not something he looked forward to, but if conditions changed enough to consider going, he hoped it was him digging them up and not Nancy, Carrie or Teagan.

  With the totes, buckets, and barrel taking up most of the room, Tom had dirt left over and began spreading it randomly around the foundation. He knew the grass would soon grow up through it, disguising the different colors of fresh soil. No one would know where to find the stuff but Nancy and Carrie. He wished Teagan could have been there to witness, but the other two would have to be enough. He had no doubt that if something were to happen to him, Carrie would defend either girl with her life and he could only hope Nancy or Teagan would do the same. He knew Teagan well enough to trust her to keep Carrie safe and thought he knew Nancy, but with the changes in her circumstances, he had no idea.

  With the dirt leveled and the grass he’d carefully cut out from the plot back in place, Tom picked up the rake, shovel, and hand-saw, while Carrie woke Nancy. They walked back to the house. He would get the ladder in the morning when he went out to erase any obvious trails in the grass, which would be as good as a pathway if someone was looking.

  Tom was as tired as he could ever remember being and knew it was useless for them to leave until he had some rest. He showed Carrie the guest room and told Nancy she could take her usual bed in Teagan’s room. Tom promised Carrie he would sleep as soon as he cleaned himself up. He could feel dirt sift down from his hair every time he moved his head.

  Tom tried to justify the use of their precious water by using it from the toilet tank. It wasn’t water they would be drinking, but he still felt guilty using it to wash. He would further justify the use by washing his underwear and socks when he finished cleaning himself.

  Feeling as if he had used up the last vestige of his energy, Tom braced his hands on the counter and stared at himself in the mirror. What he saw was an old man. He felt he’d aged considerably since that morning. His hazel eyes looked tired, and he couldn’t see this skin under all the dirt. One thing he had always been grateful for was his Navajo heritage was that his facial hair grew sparsely and shaving every day wasn’t a requirement. His brown hair even looked tired, lying flat under a layer of dirt. He sighed and began to process of making himself presentable. Tom was grateful he didn’t have to shave. A cold water shave would not go well with his dull razor blade. Regretfully, he had not stocked up on blades and now he never would. He cleaned as much of the dirt away as was possible with the small amount of water, he allowed for himself. He looked from his socks and underwear to the small amount of muddy water in the sink and decided to forgo washing them. The chances of them coming out of the water dirtier than they went in were very good, and he would wait until he had a cleaner water source.

  With his bath towel wrapped around his waist, Tom carried his clothes to his room and put them in his laundry basket. Seeing it was empty, he was grateful that the day before had been laundry day. From past experience, he knew he could go three weeks before doing laundry, and that included changing his socks every day. Teagan had called so many changes of clothing, overkill, but Tom didn’t think so.

  He was careful to give his feet good care because of the hours he spent with boots on. He didn’t break new boots in on the job because there was nothing worse than new blisters and sweaty socks if you had to run after someone.

  Tom slipped into the sweatpants he used as pajamas, lay down on top of the blankets, and closed his eyes.
As tired as he was, sleep didn’t come easy for him. Tom tossed and turned, trying to put the day's events aside but found it impossible. He thought about waking the girls and heading out but knew it would be foolish.

  As soon as he returned from getting Teagan, Tom planned to install the hand-pump on his wellhead. He’d bought the pump at a farm auction several years before and had always planned on putting another well in closer to the house but had never gotten around to it, now it was a necessity and something he couldn’t put off any longer if they were to remain on the property. With the well-house sitting so far from the house they would have to carry their water, but it was a far better alternative to not having any at all but what they could collect from the rain gutters.

  Someone was shaking him, and Tom rolled away from the offending hands, but they sought him out and continued until he could understand the words being whispered to him.

  “Tom…Tom, you have to wake up. I think someone’s outside. Tom.”

  Tom groaned and rolled over groggily, “What?”

  “There’s someone outside.”

  “Are you sure?” Tom realized who was talking to him and in his bedroom and sat up. “What are you doing here?” His brain was momentarily lagging, and he couldn’t imagine why she was in his room. He reached for the lamp on the nightstand and remembered. With a sigh, he swung his feet to the floor. “And it’s just the beginning,” he said more to himself than Carrie.

  “I’m sure. Someone at the window woke me and then I heard them trying the front door. I ran around checking the windows and saw a flashlight out by the shed.”

  “Wake Nancy. I’ll get my shoes on.”

  Tom couldn’t imagine who would be prowling around his house in the middle of the night, but it didn’t bode well for any of them. Not for the prowler and certainly not for Tom because anyone who knew him knew he was a deputy sheriff and knew he could be armed. Whoever it was either didn’t know, which meant it was a stranger or someone didn’t care. Either way, nothing good would come from this meeting.