A Town Called America (6 page)

Chris lay back down and continued to weep. The ground felt cold against her body, but she hardly noticed. Unsure how long she had been there, she attempted to regain her composure. Slowly she focused her watery eyes.

After grabbing the shotgun from the open gun safe near the stairs, Rick was outside in less than a minute. Standing on top of the RV fortress with the gun in hand, he scanned the area for any signs of movement. The cold breeze against his shirtless body sent a chill up his spine.

Question needed to be answered. Where was Chris? Who had fired the shots? Had someone discovered the fortress?

Another gunshot rang out, breaking the silence. Rick, having been in the army, instantly knew the last shot was different; it was a rifle this time and not a pistol as before. Panic struck him as he sprinted up the hill toward the gunfire. He then remembered that Chris had the rifle.

“Chris!” he yelled.

One more shot rang out from above, and Rick knew she had to be in the deer stand. Something was wrong—very, very wrong—as she never would have used a gun so close to the cabin unless intruders were nearby. Even so, that was an absolute last resort.

Chris had been lying on the ground when she heard the shots. Deciding to investigate she climbed the tree to the deer stand. Once in place she scanned the area when she saw the intruders.

No going back now
,
just take your time. It’s no different than the hundreds of time you’ve went hunting with Rick
, she thought. She closed her left eye and focused her right on the target. She took aim, held her breath, and squeezed the trigger. The rifle shot back into her shoulder with tremendous force, but she kept control.

Just once more
, she told herself as she squeezed the trigger a second time. At that moment she knew without a doubt she had hit her marks. Two men were now on the ground next to each other. One she didn’t recognize; the other she had known since they were children. It was Shawn, and he was dead.

NINE

J
ust six weeks before Shawn took his last breath and watched the world around him turn to darkness, he had been away from the security of the RV for two days on a hunting trip with Rick.

Deer was the prize they were after, and although fish were abundant from the lake near the cabin, their attempt at growing a garden had resulted in no return for their efforts. They were in dire need of meat and another source of food. Retrofitted, the hot tub collected rain from the roof of the cabin so it could funnel through a series of PVC pipes into the tub, where it then funneled into the RV fortress. As a result water hadn’t been an issue for the three of them, even through the heat of summer. They rationed it appropriately and had an excess supply. Food, on the other hand, was quickly becoming an issue that needed to be addressed. Their hunting trip could produce enough meat to last through the winter, if they found deer or other wild game. And only if they dried, salted, and stored it underground properly to ensure its longevity.

By midday they hadn’t seen any sign of deer. Shawn, without a weapon, was there reluctantly, if only to aid Rick, should he need help carrying supplies, or a deer, should they find and kill one. Initially Chris was to join Rick, but because she sprained her ankle, he had insisted she stay behind. Chris had nagged Shawn to go with Rick until they both gave in to her. She desperately wished the two of them could
get along, see eye to eye, and this trip might be what they needed pull themselves together. Chris had no idea that in only a month’s time Shawn would be dead by her own hand.

The weather was beginning to turn, and the rain had started to come down, slow at first then steadily picking up. The drops of rain falling on the ground made the forest come to life. Birds flew in and out of the trees, and a few squirrels ran up and down the thick tree trunks.

“Shawn, we need to think about shelter for the night,” Rick said abruptly.

Both men had argued earlier and hadn’t said a word to each other for hours. The topic was Chris, as usual. Shawn had brought up the subject to ensure Rick knew he disagreed with the romantic relationship he and Chris had formed. Rick had made it very clear that their relationship was none of Shawn’s business and that he didn’t appreciate Shawn’s opinion.

Shawn was extremely defensive as he struggled to hold back his overwhelming anger and growing hatred for Rick. He knew his feelings toward Rick really had nothing to do with Rick at all. He knew he was just jealous, but it didn’t matter. He always had been good to Chris, and now he thought she didn’t think he was good enough for her.

He did, however, have a plan in place. If they wanted to shove their relationship in his face, so be it. If Rick wanted to steal his girl, he was going to steal the one thing Rick prided himself for the most: his RV fortress.

The two men made their way to a single-story home at the edge of the forest. Kneeling in the mud next to Shawn, Rick didn’t have to tell him to stay put; Shawn knew just by the look on Rick’s face what he wanted him to do. Shawn moved into position, sitting near the edge of what once had been a home’s back lawn, which by then was nothing more than overgrown weeds and trash. He sat there as a lookout; his only function was to inform Rick if he saw anyone.

Quickly and quietly Rick made his approach to the house. The tactical movement—a feeling he had long missed from his time in the army—surged through his body. It was a mixture of adrenaline and a slight sense of fear. His mind raced with a thousand thoughts.

He stopped at the outside wall, took a breath, and focused. A moment later he was inside, clearing the house from room to room with an efficiency usually reserved for SWAT teams.

After Rick had cleared the two floors of the house to ensure no one was present, he and Shawn cut the carpet from the living-room floor, and using nails they’d found in a kitchen drawer, covered the windows in the living room with boards to ensure no one would see light from the fire they’d soon build. Then they cut out the subflooring as well, until they reached the concrete slab.

It took quite a bit of work, but in the end, the concrete foundation allowed them to make a fire without the danger of burning down the house. They used the wood from the subflooring to start the fire, and wood from the trees outside would keep it burning through the night but only after they made sure the windows in the rest of the house were all open so as not to smoke themselves out.

The only sound was that of the rain hitting the metal roof of the home they now occupied. Both sat in silence, eating green beans out of a can.

While they were eating supper, Shawn began arguing about Chris once more. It didn’t take long for Rick to tune him out and ignore everything he was saying. Eventually, with a full stomach, Shawn fell asleep. Soon after, Rick, feeling the warmth of the fire on his face and hands, sat listening to the sound of the wood and also drifted off.

By morning the fire had died out, and the house had become as chilly as it was outside. Rick woke up and sat up, taking a moment to remember where he was. He looked around the room and immediately noticed that Shawn wasn’t there, but just as quickly, he put it out of his mind as he tried to focus, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. It was then that he staggered to his feet and began to wonder where Shawn’s bag was. After walking across the room, Rick found a note written on a piece of cardboard.

Rick, you both can go to hell. When you see me again, it’ll be after I tell the world about your little fortress
.

TEN

S
hawn was lying on the ground, bleeding from the wound that was now draining the life from his body, just as Rick was reaching the top of the hill. Chris climbed down from the deer stand, and the moment her feet hit the ground, she raced toward Rick. She ran into his arms and wrapped herself around him. With their bodies so close together, it was an embrace neither would forget.

“I shot him…He’s dead. Shawn is…”

“Chris, it’s OK. You couldn’t have known it was—”

Chris cut Rick off. “I knew it was him. He brought people.”

Rick pushed Chris to a couple of feet away, and with his hands on her shoulders, he looked her dead in the eyes. “We need to go now,” he said calmly, and without argument, they moved down the trail with Chris securely behind him until they stopped near the tree line just behind the cabin. Scanning the area, Rick saw at least six more armed people moving toward the RV, but before either he or Chris had time to react, a wave of bullets erupted around them.

The only way to go was back up the hill. The gunfire seemed to hang in the air for an eternity. Trees burst all around as the bullets came within inches of them.

Rick turned back up the hill, shoving Chris in front of him. He yelled at her to move to the top of the hill as fast as she could. “Follow
the path by the lake until you get to the first house you see,” he told her. “I’ll meet you there. Now go!”

Chris hesitated for a moment, trying to grasp everything that was happening, and then she did as Rick asked. She moved up the hill until she reached the top, where she saw that the cabin was on fire. The smoke quickly filled the air, and ashes skewed her vision. A moment later she was gone.

Rick was still at the bottom of the hill, firing his weapon like the soldier he once had been. He hit his targets and watched them fall to the ground one after another. The first one fell and then a second. It wasn’t long before two more men attempted to flank him from the left side. He knew at that point he had lost his fortress, because at the same time, he was being flanked three people who had just ripped open the hatch to the RV. He was now losing the only thing he was desperately trying to hang on to from his life before, he was now loosing.

The cabin, the property, and the few belongings he had worked so hard to obtain—he was losing it all. If there ever was such a thing as the American dream, it was now dead, and Rick knew there was nothing he could do to change it.

With a flood of anger, he turned to move up the hill when a bullet ripped into his left side and another into his arm. Rick dropped to the ground as the burning sensation shot up his spine into his brain; then his vision began to go black. Unable to breathe he felt as if his mind also were on fire.

Chris had been running as fast and as hard as she could toward the lake. She barely found the trail through the smoke, but when she did, she followed it through the woods until she came upon a black iron fence with decorative spikes on top, preventing her from climbing over.

Without a second thought, she pointed her pistol at the lock and fired. Then she fired another shot, this one opening the way to her destination.