Compass Call: Survival & Awakening (The Gatekeeper Book 3) (37 page)

“I don’t know. You tell me,” she said.

“Don’t get smart with me,” he hissed. “What happened?” he asked while again looking around the barroom. He walked to the nearest body and nudged the man with his foot. The absence of blood or physical injury both confused and interested the man. He knelt, and after laying his shotgun on the floor beside him, he flipped the dead man onto his back.

As Devon examined the dead man, looking for a cause of death, Luanne quietly walked up behind him and shot him in the head.
Devon fell dead across the man under him. Luanne picked up the shotgun and walked over to the bar to wait for the other biker.

The sound of the gunshot alerted the other biker, and he entered the barroom cautiously, pistol out and ready. When he saw Devon lying dead on the floor, atop another dead gang member, he walked more rapidly toward them. Listening to the footsteps, Luanne waited patiently for him to pass the wall behind the bar and step into the open. Her plan was to shoot him with the shotgun, and then get John out of the roadhouse and to safety.

When the biker stepped into the barroom, Luanne pulled the trigger, but there was no boom, only an empty click. The biker heard the click and turned to face Luanne. His momentary surprise gave Luanne enough time to rake the shotgun’s slide and chamber a round, but she wasn’t fast enough to fire the weapon before the biker. He snapped off two quick shots at Luanne. The first hit her in the hip, and the second, her abdomen.

Luanne would have fallen to the ground with the impact of the shots, except she had been leaning against the liquor cabinet. Pain tore through her body and she moaned loudly. Mustering all the strength she could manage, Luanne raised the shotgun to her waist and pointed it at the biker.

“I don’t know what you did here, but I’m more than happy to end your miserable life,” he said as he raised the pistol and aimed it at her face. Luanne lowered her head, as if to accept her fate, and then fired the shotgun. A deafening roar filled the bar, and the recoil sent violent waves of intense pain through her body. She screamed in pain and dropped the shotgun while collapsing to her knees.

She looked up to see the biker. He was thrown back several feet and now rested only a few feet from where Devon fell. Luanne groaned loudly and tried to stand, but her stomach was on fire and her right leg was completely numb. She put a hand to her stomach and felt a warm sticky wetness that she knew was her blood. “Well, Luanne, it looks like you did it this time,” she croaked.

She tried once again to stand, but her legs wouldn’t support her weight, so she began to pull herself along the edge of the bar toward John. When she reached the open floor she collapsed and began to drag herself closer to John, an inch at a time. She had to reach her brother, to say goodbye, to tell him she was sorry for everything. She had to tell John she loved him, and thank him for believing in her.

John heard the pistol gunfire, but it was coming from a faraway place. He was in a very deep and restful place, and he didn’t care what was happening around him, only that he was finally able to rest. Only when he heard the sound of the shotgun did he open his eyes and stand up. Thinking he was whole again, John was surprised to see his body lying on the floor at his feet. He had separated without intending to. Deciding to remain out in case of a new threat, he went to where the three dead bikers lay and looked around the bar-room. There were no threats in the area, so John turned his attention to Luanne.

He heard her call out his name, and his heart ached for her. He could feel her injuries and the pain they caused her. He also felt the sadness and the pain she endured throughout her life. But through it all he felt her love for him the most. He was touched by it in a way he never expected, and he began to cry for her. He approached her and reached into her body and touch her ruined hip. The bullet had clipped her femoral artery, and she was quickly bleeding out. Even in his body, there was nothing John could do to keep her alive.

John helped her reach his body, and then lovingly waited as her life ebbed away next to him. When she was mere seconds from her last dying breath, John reached down and lifted her willing spirit from her body. Luanne looked at him with surprise that immediately turned to joy. She squealed in delight and embraced John, but then pushed away and said, “Wait. What’s going on here? I don’t hurt anymore.” She looked down at saw herself. “What happened to me, John?”

He smiled at her warmly and said, “You’re body has expired, Luanne. You have died from your wounds. You are now free.”

“I died?” she asked, as she considered the implications of her own question.

“Yes,” said John, as his eyes once again welled up for her.

“And you’re dead too. I’m so sorry John,” cried Luanne.

“No, Luanne. I’m not dead. My body lives. I’ve only stepped out to help you,” said John.

Luanne looked down at the two bodies, hers that was dead, and John’s that was only unconscious. She nodded and said, “Yes. I see the difference now. Then it was you who took care of all the guys here?” said Luanne.

“Yes,” said John. “And it was you who took care of the other two. You protected me, Luanne. For that, I thank you,” added John.

“They would have taken you, and hurt you. I couldn’t let that happen,” said Luanne.

“I see that in your heart, Luanne. You’re a good person,” said John, and he looked up.

Warm light began to shine down on Luanne and she too looked up. She looked at John and said, “It’s my mom. She’s waiting for me. She wants me to come to her,” cried Luanne with a smile as tears streamed down her cheeks

“She’s not the only one waiting for you. Go, Luanne. Go to her. We will meet again, but until then, I say adieu,” said John, and they embraced.

“Thank you so much, John. Thank you for saving me. I love you!”

“I love you, too. Now go,” he said with a smile. Luanne rose up into the light and John watched as she was warmly received by family and friends.

John also wanted to return home, but he knew that was impossible. He had to return to his body. When he did, he opened his eyes and sat up. The smell of cordite, blood, and alcohol assaulted his senses. Everything was as it had been, only darker and dustier than before. He stood and realized he was wearing a different shirt. He knew Luanne had changed it for him while he slept, and he was happy for her again.
He also realized that she must have fulfilled her purpose here, in this dark and dirty barroom. Her death was a sacrifice for him. She protected him from harm while he was away. That thought was followed by another, her love for him also saved her.

He gave himself a moment before standing, and then got to work collecting the weapons and anything useful. John searched all the bikers and found the van keys in Steve’s pockets. After loading the van, John returned to the roadhouse and retrieved Luanne’s body. He carried her to the back and gently laid her in the back. He hated covering her with a splattered painter’s tarp, but it was all he could find. She deserved better, but there was nothing better to offer at the moment. Besides, he knew where she really was, and he was very happy for her.

After syphoning a gallon of gas from one of the motorcycles parked behind the roadhouse, John walked back into the barroom and splashed it around the room. He moved to the back door, and with a liberated Zippo lighter, he thumbed the striker wheel and tossed the burning lighter into the room. Flames erupted with a throaty whoosh, and air began to be drawn into the roadhouse through the open doorway. John propped the door open with a big rock and walked to the van.

He wanted the roadhouse leveled, as a burnt offering, but for him it was more about cleansing than sacrifice. He wondered about the families of the biker gang, if they had real homes. He knew they must have, at least a few of them, but what troubled John the most is why men chose such a self-destructive path. They seemed like capable men, capable of contributing, of being productive and loving husbands and fathers.
What drove men to such extremes?
John knew it was about choice, everything was about choice, but something about people, and their purpose and placement, bothered him. Luanne bothered him.
Was she meant to live such a life just to help him here, today, or would he even be here if it wasn’t for her?
Those, and other questions filled his mind as he climbed into the van and started it up.

When flames began to lap at the open doorway, John knew it was time to leave. His work here was done. A deep exhaustion persisted as he drove, but he knew he could handle it. He also knew where he was. Though it had been a long time, he remembered driving past the roadhouse before, so finding his way home was not a problem. He knew practically every road within a fifteen mile radius of his house.

Despite his earlier message of comfort to Jenna and Pete, John knew they were worried about him, and would be until he returned. He was also worried about them, but he knew Pete could handle the situation. As John put distance between himself and the burning roadhouse, the irony of it struck home. He had resorted to biker terror tactics, a scorched earth policy of retaliation, vengeance and denial. John didn’t know what that made him, but he felt confident that the justice he meted out was right. Now, if only his family was safe and his home still standing when he got there.

CHAPTER 11

J
ohn studied the sky well before reaching the neighborhood entrance, and he sighed with relief when he didn’t see a telltale sign of dark smoke rising high into the air from his house. In fact, he was so intent on seeing his home that he almost drove into the line of motorcycles that were laying across the road. With a smile and a nod, John stopped the van just short of the motorcycle barricade and got out. Seeing no way to drive around the bikes, he shut off the van and began walking the remaining few hundred feet to his house.

The motorcycles made for an interesting roadblock, and not one John would have considered, but it worked for a hasty obstacle. How they were positioned told John one very important thing, the biker gang was defeated. John knew they would never treat their bikes with such disregard if they were still alive, or in control of the situation. As John approached the vacant lot near his house he thought he heard Pete’s voice. A moment later he saw Pete, Paul and Adam standing guard over a handful of bikers who were busy digging graves. They were so occupied with their task that they didn’t see John until he was almost near them.

“Dad! Pete, look, it’s my dad!” yelled Adam excitedly.

“John?” yelled Pete as he turned in response to Adam. “John! Damn it’s good to see you,” said Pete, as he walked up to greet John with open arms. After a brief embrace, Pete examined him more closely and said, “Man, you look like crap. Are you OK?”

“I’ve been better, but I’m fine. You were right.”

“Say what?” asked Pete, as if not hearing his friend.

John snorted, and with a smile he said, “You were right. But when you hear about what happened on my end you’ll believe, like I do, that it was meant to be.”

“A wizard always arrives precisely when he intends to,” said John, with a grin.

Pete saw Adam begin to walk toward them and he snapped, “Adam, maintain your guard post! I’ll let you have your dad in a minute.” Adam dropped his shoulders, but he returned to his post to face the prisoners. “Well, as long as you’re done settling things, we have work to do. So, what’d you think of my roadblock?” asked Pete, as he looked at the white painter’s van over John’s shoulder.

“I’d say it’s as much to keep cars in as to keep them out,” said John.

“More to keep Tony in than to keep you out, that’s for sure,” replied Pete. They shared a silent communication at the mention of Tony’s name, each knowing what the other was thinking, that Tony was their next order of business.

“So you know what he did?” asked John, impressed that Pete had already figured everything out.

“I’m not a rocket scientist, but yeah, it wasn’t that hard. Besides, I had a little talk with Blackbeard before Paul took him out.”

“Paul took him out?”

“Yup, and with style,” replied Pete with a smile and a nod.

“I want to hear all the news, but I think I need to talk to Adam first. He looks troubled.”

“Yeah, you can say that,” said Pete. “I think he made his first enemy kill today.”

John studied Adam from a distance and said, “I appreciate you telling me that. Was anyone hurt?”

“Not a scratch on anybody.”

“I’m glad you guys are OK,” said John and he began to walk toward Adam.

Pete fell into place next to him and said, “It’s really good to see you too, brother. I knew you were safe. I felt it . . .”

“I’m glad you felt it,” interrupted John. “I didn’t want you coming after me.”

Pete looked at him with a cocked head and said, “Yeah? Well, I can’t explain how I knew you were safe, but I did. It was strange. Before I had that feeling I was trying to figure out how to save you and protect the house at the same time.”

John nodded and said, “Yeah. We have a lot to talk about. Let me go talk to Adam and we’ll catch up.”