Chapter 19

For the first time in ages, Glen had spent an entire week at home alone. The twins were in New York attending the conference. They had called last night excited about the Broadway play they had seen earlier. Their excitement had pleased him, since he had given them the tickets for the play on their birthday as a present. They were taking the moonlight tour around the city on a boat tonight. He figured it would be another couple of hours before they called.

For the past year he had been having sex two and three times a day. He should have appreciated the break, but found himself more horny than ever before. It didn’t seem like it had been that long ago that he had gone for several years without a woman in his life. Things had changed so much in his life, that he didn’t feel like the same person any more.

For the moment, he was rather perturbed that Cliff had chosen to stay at the other house. He had wanted to stay there with him, but Cliff had said that he was going to entertain CJ and that this was the last chance they would have alone. Glen understood, but he felt like Cliff was taking undue risk. In fact, he felt that Cliff had placed him in undue danger. He paced the house trying to decide what to do.

He looked outside, trying to see if there was anyone out there. There was a full moon tonight, but the sparse clouds were hiding the moon as much as not. He decided to turn on the flood lights he had mounted them several months ago. They lit up the entire five acres around his cabin. Flipping the switch, he looked outside and saw movement at the edge of his property. A deer, white tail flashing in the dark, bounded into the woods. He smiled and wondered what else he had scared away from the orchard. The trees had bore very few fruit, but lots of animals had come by waiting for them to ripen. There was no way he was going to be able to beat them to the fruit.

Entering his office, he sat at his desk adjusting his holster so that it didn’t dig into his hip. He turned on his computer and connected to the Internet. After checking out a few web sites, he decided to download a couple of Appleton stories from the Books Online site. He had always enjoyed the Tom Swift stories as a young boy and had been shocked to learn that they were now available online. The stories were corny by today’s standards, but they reminded him of a time in his life when a young boy, armed with a tool set, could go on wonderful adventures.

He had downloaded three stories when he suddenly lost his connection to the Internet. That wasn’t anything to worry about that, he was so far from the telephone switching station that his line was usually pretty unreliable. He pulled up the first story and started reading. Chuckling at the use of the word, ‘chum’, he realized he hadn’t read that word in ages. He wondered if anyone even used that word anymore. Reading the story, he realized how much the language had changed in a hundred years.

He was about a third of the way through the third chapter of the story when he heard a noise outside the cabin. Standing, his hand moved to the holstered pistol automatically. As he left the office, he picked up the pump shotgun by the door. The lights in the house were off with the exception of a few night lights. They produced enough light that he could move easily through the house yet didn’t give individuals outside a target to shoot at.

He looked through the front window and saw CJ running towards the house screaming. She was naked and he could see long red scratches where she had run into branches in her dash through the woods. He opened the front door and shouted, “The door is open. Get in.”

She ran into the house and collapsed upon entering the house. She was sobbing and crying so much that it was hard for him to understand what she was saying. She finally calmed down enough to say, “They got him.”

Glen had already figured that out. He handed her the shotgun and shook her to get her attention. When she was looking at him, he said, “I’m going over there in a minute. I want you to stay here. Lock the doors. Shoot anything that moves outside. You’ll have to shoot through the glass of the window, so stand back from it. I’ll come here with the Sheriff. You’ll see his lights flashing. Until then, shoot anything that moves. That includes me. Do you understand?”

She shivered and answered, “Yes.”

He said, “I’m going to turn off the lights outside. I want you to turn them back on in five minutes, okay?”

She answered, “Yes.”

“Good. Get some clothes out of my room and put them on. That should take you about five minutes. Once you’re dressed turn on the lights.”

CJ looked blankly down at her naked body and then up at him. She said, “Okay.”

He was now giving her explicit things to do and that gave her something to concentrate on. Returning to the front door, he closed and locked it. He moved to the back door and flipped all of the switches off. The lights outside went out throwing everything into darkness. He grabbed the shotgun by the back door and picked up some extra shells. Heart racing a hundred miles an hour, he stepped onto the back porch while closing and locking the door behind him. He crouched down and ran directly to the woods, entering them near the white flag he had set there for that purpose.

He found the rope that they had strung through the woods. The lights came on behind him, early, but not early enough for him to have been spotted getting out of there. He took a deep breath as he stood next to the rope, happy to have found it. It marked a cleared path with no fallen branches or major impediments. Moving in a fast walk he held his right hand out and letting it brush against the rope. His pace was fast since he didn’t have to look where he was going. He was at the midway point when he heard a horrible scream cut through the night with chilling effect.

He picked up his pace, afraid that he was too late. He couldn’t run too fast because there was always the chance of tripping or falling in the dark. After five minutes, he reached the end of the rope. Looking around, he found that he was exactly where he expected to be - behind and to the side of the house. Two trees in front of him hung a white scarf on one of the branches.

He knelt down and examined the situation. The sliding glass doors to the sauna room had been smashed. Glen swore as he stared at them, the damage had confirmed his fears that would be how they would enter the house. Based on the way that CJ was dressed, they had actually been in the sauna when the fanatics broke in.

He crept towards the front of the house, keeping cover by keeping close to the woods. Moving slowly and carefully, he inched forward since he didn’t want to rush in and possibly jeopardize Cliff. Despite the scream he had heard in the woods, he still hoped they hadn’t done anything too serious yet.

When the front yard came into view, his stomach heaved, but he fought to keep its contents down. Without regard to his safety, he charged the two men that he saw standing there. He fired the shotgun, knowing even as he pulled the trigger that they were too far away for it to do much good. The men fled and he followed, firing at them the entire time. He could hear others running away from the scene as well.

He followed them to the road, hearing them start up a number of vehicles. He fired the last round in his shotgun at the fleeing cars. He pulled his pistol and emptied it in the direction of the cars. He screamed as the last car disappeared behind a bend in the road, “I’m going to fucking kill each and every one of you bastards! You are dead meat! Do you hear me? I’m going to kill you as fucking slow as I can!”

Glen collapsed on the road, losing the contents of his stomach. Tears blinded him as he retched. He stayed there for at least ten minutes, on his hands and knees, filled with rage at the fanatics and anger at his own impotence at preventing this. Beaten, he finally picked up his shotgun and pistol. The empty pistol was returned to its holster. He reloaded the shotgun after checking the barrel.

He walked back to Cliff’s house like a beaten man. When he saw Cliff tied to the stake, he bent over again and threw up. The bonfire at his feet continued to consume the lifeless flesh. Glen went to the front of the house looking for a hose to put out the fire, but there was nothing. He kicked in the front door and went to the phone. The line was dead. He realized they must have cut the line before attacking. That was when he had lost his Internet connection.

Glen searched the house and found the car keys. Numbly, he carried them to Cliff’s truck, struggling to make it work. He headed towards town to get the Sheriff and then thought better of it. He stopped at the first house that he saw and pulled into their driveway. Honking the horn several times to get the owners attention, he got out and was approaching the house when the owner stepped out onto the porch with a shotgun. The two armed men looked at each other for a minute. Glen finally broke the silence by shouting, “Call the Sheriff. There’s been a murder at the Metchette place.”

The man stared at Glen for a moment and then croaked, “Murder?”

Glen snapped, “Yes, a murder. Get the Sheriff.”

The man shouted into the house, “Honey, call the Sheriff. Tell them there’s been a murder at the...”

Glen finished it for him. He shouted, “Metchette place. Tell him this is Glen Wiseman!”

The man on the porch asked, “That you, Glen?”

“Yes.”

The man lowered the shotgun with relief. He knew Glen only slightly, but Glen had a good reputation. Word had gotten out about all of the charity work he had done in the area. He had met Glen at the Orphanage as a member of the Elks that had catered the Christmas Eve Party there. He remembered the wooden chests that Glen had created for each child and the happiness that Glen had delivered. He called over, “Damn, I didn’t recognize you. All I could see was the shotgun in your hand.”

Glen looked down and realized for the first time that he was carrying the shotgun. He set it down and collapsed on the driveway. He couldn’t move or talk, his shoulders shook as he cried like a baby. The man on the porch came over to him awkwardly, not used to dealing with an emotional outburst from another man. He shifted nervously from foot to foot trying to decide what to do.

Glen realizing that the man was watching him, slowly pulled himself together. He looked up and said, “They burned him at the stake.”

The man came to a decision and called to the house, “Honey, I’m taking Glen over to his place to wait for the Sheriff there. I’ll be home late.”

His wife came to the front porch and shouted back, “I’ve called them and they are on their way. Don’t go doing anything crazy out there, you hear me?”

The man groaned and shouted back, “You know me better than that, woman!”

The man helped Glen to the passenger side of the truck. Once Glen was inside, he went around and got in the drivers seat. He started up the truck and backed out of his drive. It didn’t take him long to get to the driveway of Cliff’s house. Glen said, “Stop here.”

The man said, “I’ll take you to your house. You need to recover.”

Glen shook his head and said, “CJ is over there. I told her to shoot anyone and anything until the law arrives. That included me.”

The man parked the car along the road. Glen said, “You may want to grab a gun from the gun rack. No telling if they’ll come back.”

The man pointed to his shotgun next to him and said, “Brought my own.”

Glen nodded and said, “Let’s get out of the truck. Too easy of a target.”

They exited the vehicle and could hear the siren cutting through the silent country air. It was almost impossible to tell how far away there were. Glen positioned himself behind a tree facing the road and waited. His hands were shaking so hard that he could hardly hold the gun.

He had no idea what happened to him, but the next thing he knew was the powerful smell of ammonia salts assaulted his nose. Looking up, he saw the Sheriff looking down at him. Glen groaned and said, “Those fucking monsters killed him.”

The Sheriff had already seen what remained of the body. He was more concerned about CJ and asked, “Where’s CJ?”

Glen answered, “She’s at my place. If you go over there, you better be in a car with flashing lights. I told her to shoot anyone except the law.”

Relieved, the Sheriff turned away for a second and said, “Jim, get Glen in your car. Go over to his place and get CJ. Keep your cherries on. Once you have them both, take them to the hospital. Don’t bother stopping once you are on your way.”

Glen found himself stumbling towards a car door being directed by an arm around his back and a hip against his side. He fell into the car and sat there numbly. It seemed like he had just gotten in the car when he was joined by CJ. He looked out the window as the scenery flashed by. He knew, even as the highway signs flashed by, that he wouldn’t remember the drive in the morning.

He was led from the car by a helpful nurse. In the emergency room, he remembered crying some more and then a needle. There was nothing until morning when he woke in a hospital bed. CJ was in the bed next to his. He looked around in panic as the events of the night before returned. The Sheriff was in the room and a state trooper was in the hallway outside the door.

Glen, in an empty tone of voice, said, “They got him.”

Dale answered, “Yes they did.”

“I tried to kill them, but they got away.”

“You were lucky. It looks like you actually hit a couple of them. We found blood trails from several points to the road. They were waiting to ambush you, but didn’t expect you to come from the woods like you did.”

Glen listened to what the Sheriff said and tried to make sense of it. He had been shooting wildly in the dark. He asked, “How do you know what they were trying to do?”

“We caught one of them before he died. He was only too happy to answer my questions.”

Glen got out of the bed. His legs felt weak, but he was basically okay. He said, “Excuse me a minute.”

The Sheriff glanced at the bathroom and chuckled. He said, “I predict that if I don’t excuse you, then you’ll piss on me rather than in the bathroom.”

Glen chuckled as he walked to the bathroom. He closed the door behind himself and splashed some water on his face. He cupped his hands and took a mouthful of water out of them. He rinsed his mouth and then spat out the water. The taste of hours old vomit in his mouth threatened to make him sick again. He stepped up to the toilet and released a strong stream of urine. The act of pissing brought him back in touch with reality. No matter what human and emotional concerns you have, biology is still the king.

He returned to the room feeling much better. He actually noticed that he was walking around with his bare ass hanging out the back of the hospital gown. He climbed back into the bed and asked, “What time is it?”

“It’s ten. We let you sleep.”

Glen thought about his plans for the day and said, “I have to leave here soon to pick up the twins at the airport.”

Dale shook his head and replied, “No. We already have that in hand. A trooper is going to meet them there with my wife.”

“That’s going to scare the hell out of them.”

Well aware of what would happen at the airport, he said, “My wife will be there. She’s good at that kind of thing.”

CJ stirred in the other bed. She woke up and looked around. Looking over at her, Glen could see the fear etched in her face and understood its source. Cliff must have put a pretty good fight for her to escape. If they were lucky, she had no idea what would have happened to her if she had been caught. She looked at Glen and tears formed in her eyes. She said, “They got him.”