Countdown (8 page)

Sincerely,

Marge Blanton

Needless to say, Marge never heard from the man. Chandra was now seventeen and Marge had never told anyone about Gary the vacuum cleaner salesman. But now her little girl was pregnant and, as far as Marge knew, Chandra had never even glanced at any of the Blanton boys. She could only hope that the daddy of her grand-baby, like the daddy of her own baby, was from outside the invisible walls of Blantonville.

Marge knew it was the vacuum cleaner salesman in Chandra that made her stand up, just a little bit, to Mee-maw. It was the vacuum cleaner salesman in Chandra that had her sitting away from the rest of them, refusing to be a part of this madness of Mee-maw’s. If Marge had just a little bit of that defiance, she could turn the gun in her hand on her mama – maybe not kill her, but at least slow her down. Enough, anyway, to get Marge and Chandra out of this mess. Oh, and maybe save a hostage or two.

Drew Gleeson, the EMT, was almost glad about the tornado, except for the people who were injured or even dead. He was sorry about that. But at least the activity was keeping his mind off Joynell Blanton.

Drew had never in his life messed with a married woman, but Joynell was different. She wasn’t like most women. She was smart and tough while at the same time gentle and feminine. And she was beautiful. Beautiful in a way most women weren’t, in Drew’s opinion. She had an inner beauty – and it shone through her like a light inside a Halloween pumpkin. She was the love of his life. And that goddam husband of hers had gone and killed her. It was bad enough that the way Drew had met her was when the asshole had knocked her down the aluminum stairs of their double-wide and broken her ankle. The asshole hadn’t even been there when Drew had shown up in the ambulance. He’d been on his own that day, Jasper having taken the day off for his father-in-law’s funeral. And there she’d been, sitting on the steps to the trailer, cradling her swollen ankle. Maybe it wasn’t love at first sight, but it was definitely lust at first sight. Then he’d seen the ring on her left hand and got himself in check. But on the ride to the hospital, with her lying on the gurney right behind him as he drove, they got to talking and, although she’d never said anything directly against her husband, he’d got the vibe that she hadn’t accidentally fallen down the steps. He’d hated Darrell Blanton ever since, and now … and now …

Drew was driving the ambulance, and tried to push that thought out of his mind as he felt the tears starting. Not only was it not manly – in Drew’s opinion – for a man to cry, it could cause an accident, and he already had injured people in the back of the ambulance. But still and all, he wasn’t paying that much attention and almost ran into the back of the rescue van. Slamming on his brakes, he could see beyond the van and ascertain the problem. Two firefighters were heading toward a Toyota Celica resting upside down in their lane of the highway.

Drew reached behind him for their emergency bag and jumped out of the ambulance, Jasper two feet ahead of him.

There was a young man in the driver’s seat of the Toyota, hanging upside down and not moving. Drew felt for a pulse and found one beating strong.

‘He’s alive,’ he told the firefighters. ‘We need to cut the seatbelt. First, though, Jasper, bring the backboard.’

Grumbling under his breath, Jasper headed for the ambulance while one of the firefighters went to the rescue van for clippers to cut the belt. When they both got back to the Toyota, Jasper laid the backboard down as close to the kid as they could get, while the firefighter clipped the seatbelt.

Drew and Jasper both had hold of the boy’s head and shoulders, and were able to gently release him onto the backboard.

‘Now what?’ Jasper asked Drew. ‘We go back with what we got or keep going?’

That, as far as Drew was concerned, was the $64,000 question. With this guy in the back the ambulance would be pretty much full. Did he take this kid back to Longbranch to the hospital, or hope that the clinic in Bishop was still there and could take care of him? In the end he decided that they needed to get the unconscious young man and the firefighter with the broken arm to the Longbranch hospital. Checking out the head injury of the female firefighter, he discovered that the cut had stopped bleeding and the woman insisted she had no headache or any other residual effects. Her eyes looked clear, which suggested no concussion.

‘OK,’ Drew said, removing the pencil flashlight from her pupils, ‘I guess you’re good to go.’ He looked at one of the firefighters standing by. ‘OK with y’all if she goes with you?’

‘Ah, hell, man, she’s senior,’ the firefighter said. ‘I got no say in that A-tall.’

The woman stood up. ‘So I’m outta here,’ she said.

‘I reckon so,’ Drew said and smiled at her. She gave him a mock salute and led the other two firefighters back to the rescue van.

‘Ideas!’ I said to the men standing around with their thumbs up their butts. ‘Come on, y’all. Ideas!’

‘We could sneak up there, then bust the door down and take the Blantons down,’ Emmett Hopkins suggested, his forehead sweaty, although the air conditioning in the Longbranch Inn kept the restaurant permanently chilly.

‘I considered that,’ I said, ‘but I’m afraid Eunice would shoot one of the hostages.’

‘Not if we shoot her first!’ Emmett said, his face turning red with the tension and stress of the occasion. Emmett Hopkins, former police chief of Longbranch, Oklahoma, current head deputy of the Prophesy County, Oklahoma sheriff’s department and one of the most level-headed men I’ve ever known, was about to lose it, and I was afraid that if Emmett lost it I wouldn’t be far behind.

‘Well, that has some merit,’ I thought. OK, I sorta wanted to shoot the old lady, but I knew that wasn’t what I
should
be thinking.

‘Too iffy,’ Charlie Smith said. ‘She could have one of the hostages with her, or be standing close to them. Just because they were where Mike said they were when he was up there doesn’t mean they’re still in those positions.’

That pissed me off. I’d already considered that and I wasn’t too happy with Charlie thinking I hadn’t. But this wasn’t the time for a pissing contest. I had bigger fish to fry.

‘Maybe we should call in the state boys,’ Emmett suggested.

‘You wanna wait for them to get here? Usually takes ’em a couple of hours to get all the paperwork done and their asses in gear. I’m not sure about yours, but my wife will be dead by then,’ I said.

Emmett nodded his head. ‘You’re right. The time for calling in the state has long gone.’ And the look he gave me then made me question my motives. But what was done was done, and now it was time for ideas and action.

‘What if we send somebody else up there?’ Charlie suggested. ‘The staff’s supposed to bring up desserts at closing, which is usually ten o’clock, but we could send someone up with the desserts and say we’re closing early because of the storm—’

‘Shit!’ I said, jumping up. ‘The storm!’ I turned to Mike. ‘Did they have the TV on or a radio in the room?’

‘No, sir,’ Mike said.

I grinned real big. ‘Then we gotta evacuate ’cause that tornado could be heading to Longbranch, donja think?’

Johnny Mac used his flashlight to illuminate the way through what was left of the forest, calling out Matt’s name as he went. No one answered him, but he kept walking. He wasn’t sure which way he was going – he’d gotten all turned around in his head – but he hoped he was heading in the direction they’d taken rather than back to his aunt’s subdivision. As careful as he was, watching where he stepped, he tripped over something right in front of him and fell on his face. The flashlight flew out of his hand.

He pulled himself up and looked for the flashlight, scared that he’d lost it. But he saw the light shining on some rubble, and was thankful the bulb hadn’t broken when it went flying out of his hand. It was as he was trying to stand up that he noticed what he had tripped over. A bike. A boy’s bike.

‘Matt!’ he yelled at the top of his lungs. ‘Cody!’

He heard something. Just a slight something. He twirled around, not sure which direction it had come from. ‘Louder!’ he said.

‘Here!’ came a small voice.

‘Keep talking!’ Johnny Mac shouted. ‘So I can find you!’

‘I’m over here. Is that you, Matt’s friend?’ came the voice.

Johnny Mac felt his heart sink. It wasn’t Matt calling out to him. He was glad that he’d found Cody but he really wanted to find his friend.

‘Is Matt with you?’ Johnny Mac called as he headed in the direction of the voice.

‘I dunno where he is,’ the voice said. ‘And I’m stuck. I think a tree landed on me or something!’

Using his flashlight, Johnny Mac saw a depression in the ground with fingers wiggling out of it. He grabbed the fingers. ‘You OK?’ he asked Cody.

‘I can’t move my legs,’ Cody said.

‘I’m gonna try to move some of this stuff!’ Johnny Mac said.

‘Just be careful! Don’t make it worse, OK?’

‘I’ll try not to,’ Johnny Mac said, thinking,
Duh, like that would be my goal?

He was just lifting a large branch when something hit him from behind, bowling him over.

The room was quiet. The old woman, Eunice, was looking out the window at the town square and her daughter was leaning against the door while her son stood in front of the women, glaring at them, the shotgun resting by his side.

Paula stood up. ‘This sucks!’ she said, and headed for the wet bar.

Earl’s right arm suddenly seemed to have a mind of its own. It lifted the shotgun up and then he pulled the trigger. Paula went down.

The decision had been made for Mike Reynolds to reprise his role as waiter and go to suite 214 with the message about the storm. He had just stepped out of the elevator when he heard the gunshot. He froze, only for a moment, then, dropping the tray of desserts, pulled out his gun and ran to the door of suite 214. Both Dalton and Anthony had left their rooms and were close behind Mike. Mike hit the door with the heel of his boot and charged inside.

Marge Blanton was standing, leaning against the wall right next to the door to suite 214. When it crashed open and she saw the waiter with his gun drawn Marge screamed, then used the pistol in her hand to knock him out.

Johnny Mac didn’t know what had hit him. All he knew was that he’d lost his flashlight again. He tried to sit up, but all he got for his efforts was a wet face. He reached out and touched fur.

‘Stop!’ he said between licks. ‘Enough!’

The dog said, ‘Woof!’

Johnny Mac stood up, again saw his flashlight shining against a tree trunk and went to pick it up.

‘What’s goin’ on?’ Cody’s voice asked.

‘I think that dog we were looking for found us,’ Johnny Mac said. ‘Looks like a cross between a golden retriever and a Shetland pony?’

‘Yeah, that’s him,’ Cody confirmed.

The dog headed in the direction of Cody’s voice and began licking the fingers sticking out from the debris. ‘Hey, boy,’ Cody said. ‘Good boy!’

Johnny Mac pulled the dog away from the debris. ‘If you wanna help,’ he told the animal, ‘get some of this stuff off him.’

The dog cocked his head, as if listening but not fully comprehending. Johnny Mac began pulling smaller tree limbs and assorted stuff off Cody. All this dog needed was a little show and tell. He reached down with his mouth and pulled up a bigger branch, moving it away from the trapped boy.

‘Good dog!’ Johnny Mac said, rubbing the dog’s fur. ‘You’re one smart cookie!’

Grinning at the compliment, the dog grabbed another branch while Johnny Mac continued his work. Finally they got to the real problem: a tree limb about a foot in diameter and about two Johnny Macs long was across Cody’s legs.

‘Can you wiggle your toes?’ Johnny Mac asked Cody, remembering his mother the doctor asking him the same thing when he fell out of that tree one time.

Cody said, ‘Did they move?’

Johnny Mac didn’t have the heart to tell him that his toes hadn’t moved one bit. ‘We’re gonna get this off you now,’ he told Cody. Turning to the dog, he said, ‘You take this side and I’ll take the other. Let’s roll it off of him.’

The golden retriever/Shetland seemed to understand and began using his snout to roll the large branch off, with Johnny Mac rolling the other end. The fact that Cody didn’t scream from pain kinda worried Johnny Mac. They got it off and Johnny Mac almost cried out at the sight of Cody’s legs, but caught himself in time. One was really smashed and all bloody, with a bone sticking out. The other was bloody too, but maybe just from scrapes? Johnny Mac hoped so. But how was he gonna get this kid outta here? He couldn’t lift him. Cody was short, but stocky. First things first, Johnny Mac thought. He took off his shirt and began to wrap it round the broken leg.

A
nthony, still unseen by anyone in the hostage suite, grabbed Dalton before he could rush in. Both the old lady and her daughter had guns trained on the hostages. Anthony figured that if he and Dalton went rushing in there with their guns drawn there would more than likely be a blood bath. He put his hand over Dalton’s mouth and dragged him back to suite 212 where Anthony had been stationed. He shoved Dalton as best he could – Dalton being as big as he was and all – into the suite and shut the door behind the two of them.

‘What’d you do that for?’ Dalton demanded.

‘Shhh!’ Anthony said, pointing at the thin wall separating them from the hostages. ‘If we’d gone rushing in there they woulda shot somebody – either us, or where the guns were pointed: at the women!’

Dalton dropped to the bed, his head in his hands. ‘I can’t stand much more of this, Anthony.’

Anthony sat down next to him and patted him on the shoulder. ‘I know, big guy. Me neither. Honest to God.’

Holly and Jean both jumped up as Eunice Blanton whirled around from the window and Marge Blanton, still leaning against the door, simply said, ‘Oh, shit.’ The remaining civilians screamed and the deputies half stood up before Eunice turned the gun on them.

‘Sit down now!’ she yelled, waving the gun. Holly and Jean were both by Paula now, Holly kneeling while Jean leaned on her crutches, trying to see the damage. ‘She dead?’ Eunice asked.