The Final Shortcut (19 page)

Bert dragged him into the parking lot, where one of the Wanderers was smoking, and turned one of his arms loose. With a quick motion he twisted the other arm and spun Junior around and firmly kicked him in the groin. Junior went down to his knees, his mouth hung open in a silent scream. Behind him the gang member winced.

“Daayum. I’m glad that ain’t me. What did he do?” Tree spoke up so Bert could hear him.

“He pulled a knife on Sandra, started crying and blubbering, a real sicko if you ask me. And if you come back I’ll give you your knife back the hard way.” Bert turned and stomped back inside, leaving Junior rolling on the ground in agony.

“You shouldn’t mess with Bert. He’s a mean sum bitch.” Tree took a few steps over to him and offered him the towel he had been drying his hair with. “You got a bloody nose there pal. You want a drink?” He held out half a pint bottle of gin for a second before turning it up to his lips. Hey, ain’t you the guy with the leather stuff?” Junior nodded his head and took the towel. “Sure I seen you at the flea market before, I didn’t know you liked a little rough stuff. You want something like that you got to go somewhere else. Mom has a strictly clean crowd.”

Junior tried to stand but couldn’t so Tree stepped in to help. “Where is your car?” Junior pointed to his truck and Tree helped him to get there. He was not normally a caring person but Tree saw a chance for some future business. He turned up the rest of the gin and held the door open for Junior. “Look here, I don’t know what really gets you off but if you want something special I can help. I know every girl on this strip and some of them like it rough.” Tree did a check over his shoulder before continuing. “But if you really like to use a knife, I can help you there too. If you need a girl that is, well we’ll say, expendable, I can hook you up.” Junior raised his eyebrows and studied the big guy that was suddenly his friend. In his muddled state he hadn’t clearly heard everything Tree had said, but he was starting to come around. Tree took his silence as compliance and continued. “Does that sound more like what you want?” Junior numbly gave a slight nod and Tree grinned thinking about a big payday around the corner. “All you got to do is call this number and I’ll get back to you.” He searched his pockets and produced a pen and a candy wrapper to write on. “You’ll have to order in advance, but I can do it. Anything you like, even young ones, very young.” Tree winked and pumped Junior’s hand as if he had just sold him a used car for a fortune.

Wheezer had been sitting in the lobby when Bert ejected Junior and he naturally wanted to see what was going on. During the brief interchange he had walked outside and positioned himself beside a tall cedar tree, just out of sight from the parking lot. He couldn’t hear everything Tree was saying to Junior but he had been trained how to read lips. He was able to pick up most of it, enough to know what he was selling. But it only posed more questions. Tree hadn’t shown any independent thought since he met the gang two months ago. But today he was talking like an operator, a dealer in flesh. Another bit of intelligence he would store away for later. Most likely he was just going to be the middleman, which meant he had contacts that could sell him a girl. And they would have to be local because Tree never left the mountain. This would take some looking into.

He remained hidden until Junior slowly drove off and until Tree had wandered across the street to rejoin his friends. There was more to this gang than met the eye, or maybe it was Fudd. That would explain some of it, but it would have to wait. Remaining undercover was the most important thing right now. No matter how disgusting the thought of peddling flesh was, he had to remain on the case at hand. And when this one was solved, he would come after Tree and whoever else was in it with him.

Junior drove easily toward the state road, trying his best to avoid any bumps in the street. He still hadn’t fully realized what had conspired upstairs. The images of Celeste confused him. How could she be here when she was dead? His anger started to build and he could start to feel a throbbing in his temples. The throbbing in his groin took over his thoughts when he bumped the curb turning onto The Confederate Highway and his anger abated. Thankfully it was only nine more miles home and he could rest. He would come back another day to defend his honor. But he would have to talk to Dad about it, make sure he was doing the right thing. Dad still gave the best advice, even now.

He turned onto the shortcut that cut through his property. Two more miles to Ellen’s restaurant but only a mile to his hunting shack. Tonight he would sleep off his pains in the peacefulness of the woods. It was early afternoon but the sun in the mid October sky was already falling behind the trees. The secret trails he used were barely wide enough for his truck. A literal maze of turns and tight squeezes led to his sanctuary. A small wooden building just big enough for a single bed and a kitchenette, but very comfortable. He used old-fashioned oil lamps for lighting, but not because he had to. He had electricity galore just forty feet away. Under a secret panel in the floor and down the air-shaft to his mine. A small kerosene heater would create enough heat for the night and he had plenty of food. After he rested, he would go down and talk to Dad, whenever he got confused Dad could make sense of it all. Any anger in him had faded far away. The confusion of images from the past had washed all emotion to the side. As he lay his head down the pain in his body seemed to diminish, and as the light faded in the trees he drifted off.

Chapter 13

Junior slept until late the next morning, rising only to relieve himself painfully against a tree. Unable to move without hurting he decided not to descend the ladder into the mine. The memories of the day before were muddled and all he could recall was seeing Celeste alive. Everything else, even the beating from Bert, evaporated from his consciousness. He sat for over an hour in a reflective trance, unable to shake off the confusion. His bruised ribs and groin weren’t severe and the pain was dwindling. But deep inside another pain was coming to the surface. A mild throbbing in his temples began to pulsate in rhythm with his heart. He could hear the beat pounding, resounding with great clarity. It was time to move.

He rose from his bed, ignoring any discomfort, and went for his truck. There was no thought of what to do, only the irresistible urge to do something. He made his way home, and as usual at this time of day it was empty. Quickly and mechanically he showered, changed and drove to the restaurant. The throbbing in his head maintained its pressure. When he walked in the dining room, no one but Ellen gave him a second glance. She waved him toward the counter for a seat. He opted to ease into a booth and put his feet up. Ellen grabbed a large glass of tea and joined him straight away.

“Are you alright? You look hurt.” she stuck a straw in the tea and slid it to Junior.

“I took a fall off my bike…caught a limb with my crotch.”

“Ouch, are you alright?” He pulled up a bit and drank deeply. “I think so, nothing broken.”

“I wish you’d be more careful. You’re not a kid anymore.” She reached out and grabbed his arm. “You have a nice truck too, why don’t you leave the bikes alone?” He nodded and drank more tea, but he didn’t speak. Ellen got up to leave, “Are you sure you’re alright?” He nodded again and she turned to go back to work. She had gotten used to him sleeping in the shack; she often didn’t see him at home for days at a time. Many times she had wanted to go out and see his private lodge, but she had never been there. Today she was just glad he wasn’t seriously hurt. She wanted to know more about what happened but she didn’t ask. He would tell her when he felt like it, or maybe not.

The clock struck one p.m. and the lunch crowd was still coming. Junior moved outside to a chair on the covered porch to make more room inside. An old church pew, three other chairs and a couple wood barrels lined the rails and served as the smokers lounge. Many non-smoking regulars would hang around as well, drinking coffee and shooting the breeze.

It was a cool, clear day and the brilliant colors of fall were everywhere. With only two weeks till Halloween the weather was exceptionally beautiful, for in the coming weeks it would see rapid changes. Junior always hated the winter months because he had to stay inside. The travelers avoided the smaller roads in bad weather and their business fell off. Most of the locals took advantage of the slow down and took long holiday breaks. But for him that meant spending time at home with his Mother.

As he sat there, his eyes darted from item to item. A tree to a car, to the door to the men on the porch. Outwardly he appeared relaxed holding a glass of tea, but the throbbing in his head became intense. His mind raced trying to put together a plan; he had to relieve the pressure. He had to go on a big game hunt. It hadn’t been a week since the last one, but it was necessary for him. The pain in his body fueled his rising agony, the memories of his beating lost in his displaced anger. He had to find relief and it had to be soon.

“Excuse me.” A man bumped into Junior and jostled his tea glass spilling a little on his leg. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to….”

“Oh…never mind….it’s ok.” Junior was startled out of his concentration for a second. The man was about the same size as Junior but looked to be a weight lifter. He wore a uniform from an electronics manufacturer that he recognized as a state of the art company.

“I really am sorry.”

“No. It’s ok. You drive for ‘InTroniKa’?” Junior’s interest turned quickly at the thought of more electronic gadgets.

“Yes, we’re doing a trade show a couple hours from here.”

“Well, which way are you headed? I may know a shortcut.” Junior walked him toward the parking lot, smiling.

Ellen looked out from the cash register and could see Junior waving good bye to a driver in a small cube van. He looked back in her direction and their eyes met for just an instant and a chill ran up her back. She looked around as if something was behind her. When she looked back, he was gone.

He hobbled around back to the back entrance of his shop and retrieved a 125cc dirt bike from a storage building, small light and very fast cross-country. Sitting down was still not an option so he stood on the pegs as he flew through the brush. He had to fetch a weapon from his hunting shack first and then beat the truck to the barricade. The driver hadn’t been this way before so he proved to be an easy lure to the bait. When he reached the shack he leapt off the bike and ran inside. A 30-06 on a gun rack next to the door was the perfect choice. The high-powered rifle was too strong for close range but it was much quieter and much less messy than a shotgun. There was no time to waste. He cranked his bike to the stops racing the last two hundred yards to the road. The driver was already backing up to turn around when Junior exited the trail. The smaller truck had been much quicker than the big rigs. And in just a few seconds it would get away. Junior squeezed the brakes hard and dropped the bike in the middle of the dirt road.

The driver put the truck into first and pulled out of a three-point turn, he could see a figure standing in the road two hundred yards ahead. When he shifted into second he realized that the figure was a man with a gun and slammed on the brakes. There was a loud pop and a tennis ball sized spider web appeared in the glass directly in front of him. Then instantly another hole three inches below that. Two pinky sized holes in his chest began oozing blood. His hands fell from the wheel and his foot dropped off the brake, leaving the truck to find its own route. It rolled slowly off the side of the road and hit a tree jarring to a halt, the rear wheel still turning in the dirt. Junior ran to the truck, impatiently jerking the door open to check his work. The driver was slumped forward, one shoulder on the wheel, his head resting on the dash. Junior pulled him back and examined him. Two shots to the chest, either one could have penetrated the heart. He could tell by the lack of blood that the heart had stopped beating quickly, a clean kill. The pounding in his head had disappeared.

He stood for a few seconds breathing deeply, the relief of his anguish made him high. The sensation he felt was indescribable. His senses were supercharged. Every hair on his body bristled with energy but from deep inside a voice called to him. The voice of his mentor and protector, “Huh?…” he spoke weakly, barely spitting the word out. “Yeh, you’re right! Thanks Daddy.” Junior’s lightheadedness faded quickly and he set about the task of cleaning up his mess. His well-used trap was just a few seconds from the shortcut but far enough that it was ghostly quiet. He felt confident on his private road but his survival instincts drove him forward. “I think you’re right, he might be a little tough….maybe I’ll just make jerky.”

Most of the truck’s damage was cosmetic and he was able to drive it up to his well-hidden cut off. He jumped out and cleared his bike from the road, then he pulled the van around toward the mine. Another quick jump and he tripped the hidden switch opening the huge door. In a scant few seconds he would be safely hidden away in his sanctuary, all evidence quietly tucked away behind tons of rock and earth.

His mouth watered in anticipation of his cargo, electronics were his utmost favorite for two reasons. He dearly loved wiling away the hours playing pc games and toying with cutting edge technology. He was able to turn fast, high profits with them too. A big swap-flea market 138 miles away in Elberton was having one of its semi-annual blowouts in a few days. A big event that drew vendors and buyers from all over the state, a perfect place to make some cash. Along with some of his older stock from the mine he would have a big load this trip. His mind was already racing as to what he would buy next. Even though his dad had left them financially secure. He loved making his own money, particularly if it was a lot of money.

Less than fifty feet in was the main chamber, formerly filled with coal cars and large coal trucks, now it was crammed with semi trailers and Juniors second home. Much of the mine interior was outfitted with stolen inventory, and what he couldn’t acquire he bought. The rooms he had built harbored a vast collection of games, cds, videos, DVDs and a host of gadgets. His security system was superior to those of the downtown banks and he could tell at a glance if anyone was near. And among the spoils was a widely varied cache of weapons. So sizable it was rivaled only by the best of retailers. His favorites were the silent ones, knives, bows and arrows, even a dart gun.