Lamp Black: Second Edition, Disaster, Preparedness, Survival, Awakening (The Gatekeeper Book 2) (30 page)

“Sorry, Jenna. I just . . . well, I just needed to know you guys were there for me, that’s all. But point taken,” replied John, sheepishly.

“It was hard to piece everything together with what we heard coming over the radio, but we figured you took care of two bad guys, and that everyone in the family was alive. We understood a lot more when you started talking to Paul. I could tell in your voice that Marissa had been . . . attacked,” said Jenna.

“Yeah, it was bad for her, Jenna. She was beaten and raped.” John looked to the front of the house. “It surprised me because one of the attackers was a woman. Oh, and it’s the same guy who tried to get into our house yesterday . . . the battery guy.”

“He did? It was?” said Jenna with surprise.

“Yeah, he’s tied to the front porch, and she’s tied to a tree at the side of the house. She was the first one I took out.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” said Jenna. “Why would a woman participate in the rape of another woman,” she asked.

“You’re thinking like a civilized person,” answered John. “Anyone hanging out with Darrel is not likely to be civilized. Anyway, it’s not that uncommon for such an act to occur with the approval of either partner. The point is, she’s as guilty as he is.”

“What are you going to do with them?”

“The bad guys?” asked John.

“Of course. The Hernandez’ are coming home with us,” replied Jenna in a matter-of-fact tone. “We can’t leave them here after what just happened. What are you going to do with those two scumbags?”

John really hadn’t thought about it, but she was right, he had to do something with them. He figured he could take them to the nearest police station and turn them over, but there was a problem with his report. The fact that he shot Darrel in the leg presented a number of problems that John really wasn’t prepared to deal with, especially when it came to dealing with law enforcement during a disaster.

From John’s experience, cops saw everyone as, “guilty until proven innocent,” even during the best of times. They’d probably throw him in jail for something like this, especially since it would be his word against Darrel’s. And even if the police station was open and manned, John wasn’t willing to risk possible incarceration pending some ridiculous investigation that would likely never produce any real results. He definitely wasn’t willing to subject himself to whatever informal judgment the police deemed appropriate given their personal views on vigilantism or self-defense.

John knew that if he got locked up now, it would put his family in very great danger. To be locked up, just as things were heating up, would be very dangerous for him and his family. “I’ll think of something,” he said. “I’m not willing to waste my fuel to drive them to jail. Besides, I don’t think it would produce the desired results, and I’m definitely not willing to risk incarceration for either of them. But for now,
we just need to focus on getting the Hernandez family to our place.” John studied Jenna’s face and asked, “Can you help me with Marissa?”

“I figured that’s why you wanted me to come. How do you want to handle it?” she asked.

John sighed. “Well, you can start by going in to comfort her. They’re all upstairs, in the master bedroom. Just be sure you announce yourself before you enter so you don’t surprise them.” John removed his helmet and scratched his head. “I’ll move Darrel’s truck out of the way so Paul can drive the van over to our house. Their van is already loaded with food and supplies. I’m not sure who loaded it, but it’s loaded. I’m thinking Darrel was planning to drive away with it. Anyway, you take Marissa and the kids with you in the Suburban, and I’ll follow behind you as soon as I tidy up around here.”

Jenna studied John’s face and put a hand to his cheek. “I’m proud of you John . . . for what you did here. And I love you very much.”

John leaned forward and touched foreheads with Jenna’s. He said, “I love you too, but I’m afraid we’re going to see a lot more of this kind of ugliness before things get better. Though I’m a bit surprised this happened so early, and here, in our neighborhood. I just wish I did something to stop Darrell the other day, when he was under my control.”

John waited for Jenna to enter the garage before backing up the Suburban. He needed a little more room to work with Darrel’s truck. As he climbed into the cab of the pickup, John saw several large, chrome plated, eye-bolts mounted on the top side of the pickup’s bed rails. Darrel probably used them to secure his motorcycle in the back of the truck, but they would work just as well to restrain Darrel and Luanne. John began to formulate a plan on how to move the prisoners by himself.

John moved Darrel’s pickup to the side yard, and then jumped out and lowered the tailgate. He retrieved the roll of duct-tape from the
cab and searched for a couple of rags. He found rags in the garage and went to retrieve his first prisoner. Luanne looked up at him with a mixture of curiosity and fear. “What are you going to do with me?” she asked.

John didn’t say a word as he firmly wrapped duct tape over her mouth and passed the roll around her head several times. Her eyes grew large in the beam of John’s flashlight. “I don’t need to hear anything from you, Luanne,” he said. “I pretty much figured out what happened here, and even why you’re here.”

John took a knee in front of her and said, “Now, in the old days, and I mean the real old days, people like you would have been hung from the nearest big tree . . . judgment would have been swift and deadly.” John paused to scan the yard around him before continuing. “And then there’s yesterday, the new old days. The days when politicians decided the fate of people, and well paid attorneys could get scumbags like you and Darrel off the hook with a little cash. But despite the inconsistency in the courts, it was still a time when good people could live with a reasonable expectation of safety and security.

Well, now we’re in the new days. They’re a little like the really old days again, because people will once again have to defend themselves from evil people like you and Darrel. They’re going to have to deal out their own justice. You see, Luanne, the courts are gone, at least for a while, and once again justice will have to be swift and deadly. The way I see it,” said John, as he counted off with his fingers in front of Luanne’s face, “you’ve invaded a home, threatened a family with young children, and with deadly force, you bound them, and held them hostage, and beat the man of the house while you raped his wife in front of him,” said John, with a pause. “Oh, and you planned to steal their personal property, property that was important for their survival. Did I miss anything, Luanne?”

Luanne shook her head violently left to right, and tried to protest with several muted no’s. John lifted her chin with his gloved hand and continued, “And you meant to cover it all up by killing them, didn’t
you, Luanne . . . maybe even burn their house down around them?” John saw that he was finally getting through to her. Tears streamed down her cheeks, and slid effortlessly over the smooth gray binding that covered her mouth. “But it’s your lucky day,” continued John, “I’m not going to execute you, Luanne. Nope, I’m going to take you to the police . . . in the back of your own truck. I’ll let them decide what to do with you. And the sooner I’m done with you, the better I’ll feel.”

Luanne began to sob, which John figured was probably difficult for her to do while breathing through her nose, but he had no sympathy for her. In fact, he felt only contempt. The tears and snot that dripped from her jaw was like so much corruption that filled her heart. He grabbed her under the arms and lifted her to a standing position against the tree. John tied a rag over her eyes and said, “Now I know you can hear me, Luanne. Nod if you can hear me.” Luanne dutifully nodded for John. “Good. Now I’m going to release your hands and then re-secure them. If you give me any trouble, I’ll shoot you. Do you understand, Luanne? Nod again if you understand me,” said John. Luanne nodded.

John released her hands, and as he re-secured them with fresh zip-ties, he studied the vest she wore. John’s flashlight reflected off the many multi-colored embroidered patches that were sewn onto the back panel of the vest, but one patch in particular caught his attention. It was a patch that very few biker gangs openly wore, it was a one-percent patch. A patch worn by biker gangs that openly opposed the rule of law – at least everyone’s law but their own.

Not wanting to retie her hands again, John drew his combat knife and cut through the vest at the shoulders. He removed the vest from Luanne and stuffed it under his tactical vest. “Now walk forward, nice and easy, and I’ll guide you to the truck,” said John, as he steered her to the back of the truck and helped her climb in. When he had her face down on the hard ribbed surface of the pickup’s bed, he resecured her ankles. “Now you lay here and be a good girl. I don’t want to have to shoot you, but I will if you give me any trouble.” Luanne
mumbled something akin to understanding, and John went to fetch her accomplice.

“Hello Darrel,” said John, cheerfully, as he approached the prone man.

Darrel wasn’t in the mood to talk, but he was in the mood to curse John up one side and down the other. John fixed that problem by lifting Darrel’s head by his hair and taping his mouth shut with duct tape. John used a lot more tape on Darrel than he did on Luanne. He saw that Darrel’s blood had soaked the ash around his thigh, so he propped him up and applied a generous amount of duct tape to the leg wound. Darrel wasn’t pleased with John’s medical treatment, and he continued to curse John under the gag. John patted the tape bandage and said, “I thought you liked duct-tape, Darrel. You sure didn’t have a problem taping up defenseless women and children with it. I must have counted at least three empty rolls upstairs.”

John got as close to Darrel’s face as he could handle, and said, “Now I’m going to release your legs and walk you to the back of your truck. You’ll do exactly what I say, when I say, or I’ll shoot you in the other leg. If you continue to act up, I’ll keep shooting you until I run out of bullets. And I have a lot of bullets, Darrel. Do you understand what I’m saying?” Darrel nodded enthusiastically.

John tied a rag over Darrel’s eyes and cut one zip-tie from his ankles. Darrel was a big guy, and it took all of John’s strength and alertness to stand him up safely. Once Darrel was upright, John reached his left arm up through the loop of Darrel’s restrained arms and gripped the back of his shirt collar. The grip forced Darrel’s arms up and exerted pressure on his shoulders, but it afforded John the control he needed to guide Darrel safely to the truck, while at the same time allowing him to keep his right hand free to draw and shoot if necessary.

Darrel hopped along, favoring his damaged leg with groans and curses. John sat Darrel on the dropped tailgate and had him lay back. John then re-secured Darrel’s legs, and raised them up and around to situate Darrel with his back to the tailgate. John raised the tailgate and
pushed Darrel forward to get his arms over the back of the tailgate, then with another generous portion of duct tape, he secured Darrel’s arms to the trailer hitch. When finished, John patted Darrel on the back and said, “Now no monkey business from you, Mister Fallen. I’ll have you at the police station in no time. But if you try to escape I’ll shoot you down like the dog that you are. No, on second thought, dogs have more class than you. Please give me a reason to shoot you, and save me the trouble of taking you in,” finished John.

John started the pickup and backed it down the side of the house, close to the tree where he had tied Luanne. He wanted to move the truck far enough away to hide the prisoners from the family when they left their house. He knew no good would come from them seeing the monsters who had tormented them, for God knew how long. As John entered the garage he heard Jenna’s voice over the radio. “Can we come out in ten minutes?” she asked.

“You can come out now . . . if you’re ready. Just let me move the Suburban in a little closer.”

“You moved the . . . prisoners?” she asked.

“Yes, they’re both secured. You won’t see them when you come out,” said John.

“OK. We’ll be out in a couple of minutes.”

John turned the Suburban around and backed it in as close to the garage door as he could get it. After opening the vehicle doors for the family, John decided to wait for them in the garage. Jenna was the first to emerge from the house, followed closely by Marissa, and her three boys. Everyone was carrying a white plastic garbage bag filled with clothes and bedding. John winked at Jenna as she passed, but he was completely surprised when Marissa dropped her bag and wrapped her arms around John’s neck. He didn’t know what to say, but he returned her embrace. She released John from the embrace and cupped his face in her hands. She didn’t say a word, but her eyes said everything to John. He smiled at her warmly and then bent to lift her bag.

Jenna touched Marissa’s arm and led her to the waiting suburban. Marcus also paused next to John, but he kept walking when his dad entered the garage behind him. John saw that Paul was carrying several large bags of bedding and clothing, so he helped him carry the bags to the Suburban. Once everything was loaded up, Paul said goodbye to his family and stood next to John as they watched the Suburban pull slowly away from the house in a cloud of ash.