Bug Out! Part 9: RV Ambush (13 page)

“Wait a minute, George. There was some action in Nebraska yesterday. Kinda looked like your style.”

“No comment.”

“Good. Talk to you later.”

“Bye Sam.”

George put his phone in his pocket.

“Who was that?” Jerry asked.

“Sam Hinton,” George said.

“Whoa,” Frank said. “I know that name. I’ve seen him on talk shows.”

George just smiled. Malcolm walked up.

“Okay, what are you boys up to?” he asked, grinning.

“We just passed some info to Sam Hinton,” George said.

“Ah, Sam. How’s he doing?”

“He sounded worried to me,” George said. “Frank, could you e-mail me that file?”

“Yeah. Address?”

George held his phone up to Frank, and he typed the address in, attached the file, and hit send. George’s phone dinged in a few seconds.

“That was fast,” George said. He sent the file on to his secure drop box.

“What’s in the file?” Malcolm asked.

“Contact names and routes that the enemy is using to move fighters across the Canadian border.”

“Geez,” Malcolm said.

“So, what’s your priority here?” Frank asked.

“What do you mean?” George asked.

“You came out here because of the local serial killer, not to join the war. Which are you interested in?”

George and Malcolm looked at each other.

“I’ve told you what my top priority is, regardless of why we came,” George said.

“And that is?” Malcolm asked.

“Rescue an old friend, if possible,” he replied.

“General Hogan,” Malcolm said. “I’m good with that. The hobby will keep.”

“Okay,” Frank said. “It’ll take me a little time to get us ready for that, and I need to keep on the names file.”

“What’s so important about the names file?” Malcolm asked.

Frank brought up the long range, close in app, and turned the screen back towards Malcolm and George.

“Is that the Pentagon?” George asked, eyes wide.

“Son of a bitch,” Malcolm said.

“That’s way too many enemy
operatives in the Pentagon,” George said, a shocked look on his face.

“Look here,” Frank said, focusing on the congressional offices.

“Shit,” Malcolm said.

“A little infiltration is going to happen in any conflict,” George said. “This is critical mass. If we don’t do something about this, we’ll lose our country.”

“Look what’s been going on in Denver,” Jerry said. “No way should the enemy have a chance there.”

“Okay, so now I get the reason that the name file is so important,” George said. “How soon until these apps hit the street?”

“Pretty soon,” Frank said. “Just over a week.”

“I hate to say this, but that’s more important than General Hogan at this point. My advice is to stay on it. How close are you?”

“Really close,” Frank said. “That file you just sent to Sam Hinton was my final test.”

“So you could go in now and get it?” Malcolm asked.

“I need to wait a few hours,” Frank said. “Just in case. I’m thinking late afternoon today.”

“Alright,” George said, grinning.

“In the meantime, want to see what we found here?” Jerry asked.

“Yeah, it’ll keep us out of Frank’s hair, for one thing,” Malcolm said.

“Okay, then follow me,” Jerry said. They walked out of the clubhouse, which was now empty, leaving Frank to his work.

“Where’re we going?” George asked.

“The dungeon,” Jerry said. They entered the barn. Jane and Jasmine saw them come in.

“Taking them down there?” Jasmine asked.

“Yeah,” Jerry said. “Frank isn’t ready for the next round yet.”

“Is that a trap door?” Malcolm said, seeing the door propped up next to a big rectangular hole in the floor.

“That leads to the lounge,” Jerry said, a grin on his face. “C’mon.” He went down the ladder, George, Heidi, and Malcolm following. Jerry led them through the shop and storage area and into the lounge.

“Wow, this is nice,” Malcolm said. “That bar stocked?”

“Sure is,” Jerry said, grinning. “We spent more leisure time down here before we found the dungeon. There’s a few bedrooms and a bathroom down that hall over there, and you can see the kitchen to the right.”

“This looks like a pretty extensive bunker,” George said. “Look at the phony window in the kitchen. Interesting.”

Jerry pointed to the hallway that headed back in the direction of the clubhouse. “That hallway goes into a big pantry, under the kitchen in the clubhouse.”

“Oh, so you can get from the clubhouse to the barn underground?”

“Yep,” Jerry said.

“This looks like a bomb shelter to me,” George said. “Look at the ceiling. It’s concrete.”

“Definitely a good place to use if a twister shows up,” Jerry said. “We thought that’s what it was for at first.”

“It’s a little beyond your common root cellar,” Malcolm said, laughing.

Jerry went over to the rug near the recliners and rolled it back, revealing another trap door. “The dungeon is down here. Give me a hand. This trap door is heavy.”

The men helped Jerry lift the trap door and lay it back on the floor. Then Jerry went down the steps a little ways and pulled the chain for the light.

“Look at the rubber seal around this door,” George said.

“Soundproofing,” Malcolm replied.

“Come on down,” Jerry said. Malcolm and George followed him into the dimly lit room.

“Good Lord,” Malcolm said, looking around when he reached the floor.

“Are there bodies down here?” George asked.

“Maybe. There’s a part of the floor over there that’s dirt,” Jerry said, pointing. “Might be body parts buried there.”

“I doubt it,” Malcolm said. “Most of the victims were found, along Nighthawk Road, remember?”

“Hence the name Nighthawk,” Jerry said sheepishly.

Malcolm had an intense look on his face as he scanned the room. Jerry walked over to the workbench and pulled the light chain. Malcolm saw the bulletin board become visible. His mouth dropped open, and he rushed over there.

“I recognize some of these women,” Malcolm said, scanning the pictures. “Thought to be victims of the Nighthawk Road killer. I guess this confirms it. You haven’t told the authorities about this, have you?”

“Not yet,” Jerry said. “Our plan was to give Frank some time to finish off the apps, then try to take out the enemy leadership, and tell the authorities on the way out of here.”

“So you won’t have the damn media showing the enemy where you are,” Malcolm said.

“Exactly,” Jerry said. “Then we got contacted by you guys. I’ve done a little research on this. I think the son is still out there.”

“You agree with Malcolm, then,” George said. “He’s had an eye on this one for a while. Know who the owner of the park was?”

“Yeah, a man named Chet, who passed away six or seven years ago, and his son Scott.”

“Who told you that?” Malcolm asked.

“A guy named Howard, who owns a truck stop in town,” Jerry said. “Kurt, Hilda, and Charlie knew him from the old days, through Chet. There used to be an RV Park Owner’s Association; they all met because of that. Hilda’s late husband was apparently a good friend of Chet’s.”

“And Howard is the guy who told you about this RV Park?” George asked, as he watched Malcolm staring at the pictures on the board.

“Well, not exactly,” Jerry said. “We needed a place to stop after we got into Kansas, and Kurt thought that this park might still be open. He asked Howard about it when we arrived in town. Howard told us that it was deserted, and that Scott died in the New York City nuclear attack. He helped us get this place going again. Took a little wrangling with the local government.”

“Hey, Malcolm, what’re you looking at so closely there?” Heidi asked.

“Want to see Red Dagger? Here’s a picture.”

George and Heidi walked over and looked. “Scary looking character,” Heidi said. “His eyes remind me of Jason Beckler…the nose too. You don’t think they were related, do you?”

“Good question - and by the way, he was worse than he looked,” Malcolm said.

“No way, that’s Red Dagger?” Jerry asked as he walked up.

“Yeah,” Malcolm said. “Younger, of course. He was getting up there when I finally took him out.”

“Read about that,” Jerry said. “Nice job.”

Malcolm looked at him and grinned. “What, no questions?”

“Oh, I’ve got plenty of questions,” Jerry said. “But you won’t get any condemnation from me.”

“You okay, Heidi?” asked George, watching tears forming in her eyes.

“All these poor girls,” she said, looking at him and Malcolm with glassy eyes. “They were somebody’s daughters, and girlfriends, and sisters.”

“That’s the way it always is, honey,” George said, pulling her close and caressing her head as she started to sob.

Malcolm opened one of the top drawers on the work bench. It was full of teeth and glasses. Heidi looked in, and turned away quickly, still crying.

“Maybe you should get out of here, Heidi,” George said softly.

“This doesn’t bother you?”

“It
very much
bothers me,” he replied.

Malcolm opened up another drawer. There was jewelry and other personal effects in that one, mostly things that a teenage girl would have. Heidi glanced at that, and then left, climbing quickly up the steps.

“This was the first time she’s seen physical evidence of what the victims left behind, wasn’t it?” Malcolm asked.

“As far as I know, yeah,” George said, sighing.

“Maybe it’s good,” Malcolm said. “She might not be so bothered by our tactics.”

“Tactics?” Jerry asked.

“Yeah,” George said. “The killers that we go after usually don’t survive, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

“I did notice. Like I said, you’ll get no condemnation from me.”

“Well, how was it?” Scott asked as Howard got back into the coach.

“I feel dirty,” he said, as he went to the sink and washed his hands.

“You liked it, Howie.”

“Yeah,” he said. “That’s why I feel dirty.”

“How was she?”

“Defiant almost to the end. There’s always that point where they realize they aren’t going to live. It took a long time for her to get to there, but it was sweet when it happened.”

“You see, if we still had the dungeon, we could’ve had fun with her for weeks,” Scotty said.

Howard froze, and then shuddered. “Stop,” he said, sounding ashamed. He dried his hands and came back to the front of the coach, getting into the driver’s seat. “Where to now?”

“We ought to find some good action in St. Louis,” Scotty said. “Think you can drive 250 miles today?”

“Yeah, but I’m getting hungry,” he said as he started the engine, “and I didn’t have time to stock up the coach very well. Kept feeling like I was being watched as I was getting ready to leave my truck stop.”

“Yeah, sorry about that,” Scotty said, laughing. “Let’s go shopping before we leave the area, then. I know a place.”

Howard drove back onto the road, and got onto the interstate.

“So tell me about the interlopers,” Scotty said.

“Hell, they’re just old people,” Howard said. “Friends from the old days; you probably met Kurt and Hilda’s husband Ger when you were a kid. They used to go hunting with Chet every once in a while. They also stayed at the park back in the day.”

“How far back?”

“I’m guessing 60s or 70s,” Howard said. “Kurt was fond of your dad. I could tell by the way he talked about him.”

“My old man could be a charmer, and he only liked the teenage to early twenties women, so his friend’s wives were probably safe.”

“Yeah, probably,” Howard said.

“Get off here,” Scotty said. “There’s a Walmart down the road a piece.”

“Wally World, eh,” Howard said, getting off the interstate. “I used to have fantasies about grabbing somebody there, during an overnighter.”

“I have,” Scotty said. “Wouldn’t try it in broad daylight, though, so don’t get any ideas.”

“There it is,” Howard said. He made a left turn onto the lot, and parked in the far section, near two other motorhomes. As he shut off the engine, he saw a girl in her late teens come out of one of the coaches, crying. She rubbed her eyes and moved her long black hair back on her head as she hurried towards the store.

Scotty saw where Howard was looking. “Don’t get any ideas.”

“I’m not, just looking. C’mon, let’s get this over with. We have a lot of miles to go today.” They left the coach, heading for the front of the store. Howard grabbed a shopping cart on the way in.

“How long can you be away from the truck stop before it kills your business?” Scotty asked.

“Oh, probably about a week,” he replied as they headed for the grocery section. “I was going to be shut down for almost that long anyway. Ran out of fuel, and with the problems in Denver, all the deliveries are delayed. I’m going to need to call in, though, and postpone the delivery I set up. I’ll miss that by a day or two, and if they come out and can’t deliver, it’ll be another week.”

“I’m surprised you don’t have any help,” Scotty said. “To watch the store, that is.”

“Well, I do, actually, but I sent them all a message to take the week off. Don’t have anybody capable enough to run the place that I can trust.”

“Pity,” Scotty said. “Seems to me that you could use an extended road trip.”

They navigated the grocery aisles, grabbed what they needed, and headed for the checkout. The lines weren’t bad, and they were pushing their cart out onto the parking lot in no time. Howard unlocked the door of his coach, and held it open as Scotty carried in the first load. Howard loaded himself up with several bags and followed him in.

“Any more?” Scotty asked.

“Yeah, but I’ll get it. You go ahead and get stuff loaded in the fridge. There’s a pantry on the other side, by the bathroom door.”

Howard stepped out again, and picked up the last few bags. He put them on the kitchen counter, and then got out to push the cart over to one of the holding areas. He saw the girl coming back, and gave her a look. They locked eyes briefly, and then Howard looked away, embarrassed. He walked back over to the coach. She caught him by the door.

“Hey,” she said.