The Defiant: An Unbeaten Path (20 page)

Noah hugged her and also cried.

Vincent was at his breaking point over the drama and wanted nothing more than to walk away, but he couldn’t. “If I step out to help, promise me you won’t shoot.”

“Leave us alone,” she sobbed.

“Your leg is broken, let me help.”

“I said leave us alone.”

“Great,” Vincent mumbled under his breath.

“My life is shit, ahhh!” she screamed out.

“Mommy, let him help you, please. He can make it better,” Noah begged.

All she could do was focus on how pathetic and sad her life was. She rocked back and forth, repeating over and over how her life was shit.

“Mommy, please!” Noah pleaded with tears flowing down his face.

“Oh, honey, I’m so sorry. I am so, so very sorry for the life I gave you. I didn’t mean to be like this. It’s not my fault; it’s how I was made,” she cried as she petted his face. With each swipe she smeared thick blood on his tender face.

“Mommy, stop talking. We can make it better,” Noah said and tried to get her to move.

“Noah, I can help, but you have to tell me if she has the gun,” Vincent asked from his hide position.

Upon hearing that, she snapped out of her trance, grabbed the pistol from her lap and screamed, “Don’t you come near me, don’t you dare!”

“Bridgette, I can help, but this is becoming a real bore for me. Either you can sit here and die, or I can patch you up and make sure Noah is safe,” Vincent said calmly.

“You can’t make my baby boy safe, no one can. This world is cruel and he shouldn’t see the harsh brutality and inhumanity of it. I’m just so sorry that I wasn’t there to stop those people, but I can make it all better. I can put an end to it, I can, baby, there’s a better life up in heaven,” she sobbed and put the pistol under Noah’s chin.

Hearing her words, Vincent knew she had officially gone mad. He had to act and act now. He spun around to see her with the pistol stuck under his chin and Noah frozen in fear.

“Please, Mommy, don’t.”

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Vincent had emerged.

Vincent leveled his pistol at her and began to squeeze. Time slowed down for him as every second moved like minutes.

She pulled the pistol away from Noah and placed it under her chin and yelled, “To hell with it all!” She pulled hard on the trigger; the pistol fired one round deep into her skull, blowing the top of her head off. Blood and brain splattered against the white SUV.

Noah cried out in terror, “No!”

Even for Vincent the scene was horrific. His heart didn’t go out to Bridgette though he felt for her internal pain; it went to Noah, who was now an orphan. In a matter of days he had lost his father and mother. Vincent couldn’t imagine the trauma of witnessing your parent kill themselves, it was all too much.

Noah clung to her limp body with no regard for the volumes of blood that spilled down on him. He sobbed uncontrollably at her death.

Vincent understandably had lost his situational awareness due to the tense situation and suddenly felt the need to look around. He feared their loud altercation would draw onlookers even in this rural setting. He needed to get the SUV out of the ditch and back into the compound. “Noah, let’s get your mom back inside so we can clean her up.”

Noah ignored him and continued to cry.

“C’mon, buddy, we have to get off the road.”

Noah looked up, his face covered in blood and tears.

“Okay?” Vincent asked, his hand out to help him up.

With his sleeve he wiped away some of the tears and blood. He nodded and grabbed Vincent’s hand.

“Let’s get her back,” Vincent said, putting his arm around Noah’s shoulders.

Needing the affection, Noah embraced him tightly and cried again.

Vincent looked down at the bloody scene. In his mind he was thinking what an unnecessary mess it all was, but a cold part of him was happy she was gone. He would never admit that to anyone, but she was troubled and what demons she was fighting would have brought harm to them all.

He hugged him tightly and said, “I need you to go back and make sure the gate is open.”

Noah nodded but wouldn’t let go.

“Hey, buddy, we need to get off the road before any bad people show up.”

“Okay,” he replied and took off running towards the gate.

Vincent looked back at the scene and grumbled, “What a fucking mess.”

Wellsville, Utah

When Nicholas, all alone, pulled up to the first checkpoint on the west side of Wellsville, the guards found him whistling an old show tune.

The guards raised their rifles and ordered, “Out of the truck! On the ground!”

Nicholas was feeling cocky; he lifted his hands off the steering wheel and said, “Gentlemen, you seem to know who I am, good. This is what you’re going to do. Get on the radio and contact Mayor Chad, tell him Nicholas McNeil has his gold, all of it, and I want my friend Sophie back.”

“Get out of the vehicle!” a guard hollered.

Nicholas looked at him and asked, “Are you deaf, dumb or both?”

The guard came towards him when the second man yelled, “Leave him, I’ll call the mayor.”

As Nicholas waited, he took in a deep breath, enjoying the crisp air. He also was making a mental note of where he was and what he was doing. His move to get Sophie was a risky one, but he couldn’t think of anything else. Trying another armed raid would most likely fail, so he went for the one thing Chad found value in above all else. The one part of the equation he didn’t know was if Sophie was even there. It was all an assumption.

The second guard got off the radio and stepped up to Nicholas. “The mayor wants you to come see him at his office.”

“Not going to happen, tell the old cripple to come here,” Nicholas said.

The guard took his handset and called again.

Nicholas hadn’t put much thought into his own life when he made the decision to do this swap. It had just come naturally to him. Now as he waited for Chad to come, he began to think of Becky and Abigail. He loved them so much and wanted nothing more than their safety and happiness. He then thought about Chad and Brock, he remembered the conversation where Chad told him about his success and how all of his children had fled Wellsville but one, Brock. He was sure Chad had the same wants for his children as he did, so would Chad take this deal or would he be hell bent on exacting revenge? This gave him pause, the confidence he had before began to crumble. What if Chad cared more about justice for his son than all the gold in the world?

Two cars raced his way.

He was sure it was Chad and some men.

“Get out of the car,” the first guard ordered, his rifle stuck near Nicholas’ face.

Suddenly, Nicholas began to fear that he had made a mistake.

“Out now,” the guard barked.

“Hold on, give me a second,” Nicholas replied and stepped out, making sure his hands were in clear view.

The two cars came to a screeching stop.

The driver of the lead car got out, opened the trunk and pulled out Chad’s wheelchair. He unfolded it and took it to the passenger-side door, which Chad had opened.

Chad threw his body into the chair and quickly whisked his way over to Nicholas.

“Hmm, I count six guys, not including you,” Nicholas said.

“You certainly play a deadly game, Mr. McNeil, a very deadly game.”

“I have to ask because I noticed this on day one. Did you steal all of the operational vehicles from people who needed them?”

“So I see you listened to the lies of Luke Summers.”

“Lies, really? He told me there was as much gold at your old gravel pit as Fort Knox and you know what? He was right,” Nicholas mocked as he pulled out a Gold Eagle and flipped it to Chad.

The coin landed in Chad’s lap. He snatched it up and looked at it carefully.

Seeing Chad’s reaction, Nicholas turned to the guards individually and asked, “Are you aware of all the gold he has stolen? You? Are you aware?”

Chad wheeled to within inches of Nicholas and said, “Walk with me.”

Nicholas smiled; the fear that had brewed began to wane. “Sure.”

Chad wheeled twenty feet away and stopped; he spun around and asked, “What do you want?”

“My friend, Sophie, you have her.”

Cocking his head, Chad said, “I don’t know who you’re talking about.”

“Now you’re lying.”

“I don’t know who you’re referring to. I see you freed your other friend, and you made a mess out of one of my warehouses and killed more than a few of my people.”

“Quit screwing around, Chad.”

“I’m not.”

“I know this tactic, stall while you send other guys to the pits, but you won’t find them. We moved it; we spent all morning moving case after case after case of gold.”

Chad’s forehead furrowed and his lips pursed. “Damn you.”

“Where’s my friend?”

“She’s in town. We caught her and that punk kid.”

“Bring her to me and I’ll tell you where you can find your gold.”

Chad’s temples pulsated as his temper grew. “Fine,” he barked and turned around. “Have Logan bring the girl and the boy.”

“Boy?”

“Yes, you take him or no deal.”

“I don’t want that kid, he’s the entire reason you and I are having this conversation.”

“I want him gone, but I have to play it safe because of politics. The girl and boy for my gold, that’s the final deal.”

Not wanting to argue anymore, Nicholas gave in. “Deal.”

Vista, CA

Bridgette had been wrapped in several white sheets and a thick dark brown duvet cover. Vincent had done this to minimize the gory look of the blood-soaked sheets.

Noah had requested she be buried up on the hill next to Vincent’s favorite spot in the avocado grove. Vincent had shared with him how he enjoyed the three-hundred-and-sixty-degree views from there and that it felt like he was on top of the world. This appealed to Noah, and Vincent was willing to give him anything he wanted.

Vincent’s foot was in intense pain and he was beginning to think he might have rebroken it. However, he made a promise to Noah and he was going to fulfill it, pain or not.

With her body in a wheelbarrow, Vincent pushed her up the hill. Each agonizing step was worse than the last. He could feel the bones grinding in his foot, and there was no doubt now he had done some damage to it.

Noah walked behind the funeral procession with two shovels in hand.

Like Vincent’s previous trips to the top, for each normal stride it took him three. When they finally reached the top, he was sweating profusely and his foot was radiating so much pain he found it hard to stand.

Seeing how much pain Vincent was in, Noah said, “Your foot hurts bad, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah, real bad.”

“I’ll dig my mom’s grave, you sit down and rest,” Noah suggested.

Sucking up the pain as Marines do, Vincent said, “It’s all right, I’ll help.”

“No, I can do this,” Noah replied sternly.

Vincent could see he was determined so he let him begin while he got off his feet.

The midday sun was high above them when Noah tossed out the last shovelful of dirt. His clothes were soaked with sweat and his face had dirt stuck to his moist skin. He climbed out of the hole and looked at Vincent.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t any help, but it didn’t look like you needed it,” Vincent said, trying to put on a happy face. The pain had gotten worse in his foot and he was having a hard time focusing.

Noah looked proudly at the torn skin and blisters on his hand and said, “You hurt your foot again because of my mom. It’s okay if you don’t do anything.”

“She’s too heavy for you to put in the hole,” Vincent said as he got to his knees.

Not paying attention to Vincent, Noah grabbed the foot end of the duvet and pulled. He strained but it barely moved.

Walking over on his knees to avoid standing, Vincent grabbed the head and pushed.

Together they placed her in the three-foot-deep hole.

Without taking a break, Noah picked up the shovel and began to toss the dirt on top of his mom’s body.

Vincent, still on his knees, took the other shovel and began to help.

Filling a hole is always easier than digging one, and with help, the time was cut in half. When the hole was full, they both patted it down with the backs of the shovels.

Noah walked to the wheelbarrow and took out a wooden cross he had made. He stepped to the head of the grave and stabbed the ground with it. Using the back of the shovel, he hammered it in.

When he was done, he gathered up the shovels and placed them back in the wheelbarrow. He looked at her grave then took in the view.

“Do you want to say anything?” Vincent asked.

“I love you, Mom, rest in peace.”

“You’re a man of few words like me.”

“Can you take care of me?”

The question broke Vincent’s heart. “Of course I’m going to take care of you.”

“I wasn’t so sure; I thought it best to ask. My mom use to say if you’re not sure, ask, there is nothing wrong with getting clarification.”

Still on his knees, Vincent laughed and said, “Those are very wise words.”

“Are we going to stay here?”

“Ahh, I was thinking we should get on the road tomorrow.”

“Where?”

“I was thinking of taking you to your family in Oklahoma.”

“What about your foot?”

“Oh, um, I think I rebroke it, but I don’t think we can stay here any longer. I fear the people from the cities on the coast will start migrating out here. I want to try our luck on the road.”

“Okay.”

Vincent hopped up on his good foot and stood. He cringed in pain just from his foot lightly touching the ground.

“Can you teach me to drive?”

Vincent laughed and said, “Sure, it’s important you learn now.”

“What about shoot a gun? Can you teach me to shoot like a Marine?”

“Wasn’t I just saying that you were a man of few words?”

“Can you?”

Vincent looked at the grave then at him and said, “Yeah, I sure can. It’s time for you to learn that as well as driving. I also think we need to get you schooled up on some other lifesaving skills. This world we’re in is a tough one.”

“It’s about being smart, right?”