Stealing Second (The Amendments Book One 1) (7 page)

One of the men stood up.
He was tall and barrel-chested and looked fifty-ish. He wore blue jeans over a worn pair of cowboy boots and a blue and white checkered shirt. His thick gray hair was slicked back and badly in need of a trim. The man had a square jaw and looked like George Jones in his 70’s-era sideburns. He pulled a toothpick from his mouth as he considered us. “Where you folks heading?” he asked.

Cathy began to turn her head, but I patted her arm. “We’re heading out to my family’s farm,” I said. “Over in Pine City.”

The farmer walked over to the front window and he peered out into the lot. “I never heard you pull up. Where did you park and why did you bring in your luggage?”

“Jack,” said the waitress, “don’t you go scaring off my customers. They look like good people.”

“I asked that boy a question,” he said. “I’m waiting for his answer.”

I stood up to the man and rais
ed my chin. He was taller than I, but I harbored no delusions that I could beat him in a fight. “We’re walking,” I said. “Everything we own is inside those bags. Look, we don’t want any trouble. We just want some lunch and we’ll be on our way.”

“Yeah?” asked the farmer. He looked at me, disapprovingly. “You can’t afford to eat here, son. I’m sorry, but Kim had to raise the prices. Why don’t you run along? We don’t want any trouble, either.”

Kim glared at the farmer, but she held her ground. I reached into my pocket and removed my roll of cash. I held it up for them all to see. “Why don’t you let me decide what we can afford?” I asked. “We’ve been through a lot and we’re hungry.”

The farmer’s eyes flashed
in anger and his nostrils flared. He then balled up his fists and started walking towards our booth. “Listen here, you goddamn punk…”

Suddenly, I caught a flash of steel as Cathy jumped to her feet. She was holding her semiautomatic pistol and leveled it at the farmer’s chest. “Don’t move!” she ordered. “I swear to God I’ll blow a hole in that pretty blue shirt of yours.”

The farmer froze in his tracks; his eyes grew wide with fear. He held his hands up next to his ears and slowly stepped back. “Put that down,” he said. “There’s no need to get carried away.”

“Seems to me that you were the one who was getting carried away,” said Cathy. “I’m a soldier in the National Guard
, and I can promise you nobody messes with my friends. Now, can we see some goddamn menus?”

“Absolutely,” said the waitress, “just as soon as you put that gun away. I don’t want any trouble in here.”

The farmer joined his buddies at the counter and he sat back down. “If you’re a soldier,” he said. “Why aren’t you in uniform? Haven’t you heard? The Governor called up the National Guard yesterday.”

“Oh, I heard,” said Cathy. “He called them up to haul law-abiding citizens to detention camps and to take away their firearms. I’m an Oath Keeper. I swore to never take part in that type of action. Do you have a problem with that?”

The farmer turned to face his friends and whispered something; his buddies began nodding their heads. At first I thought he was ignoring us, but then he turned his head and smiled. “Young lady,” he said. “I most certainly do not have a problem with that. In fact, I’d like to buy you folks some dinner. You can put your gun away, miss. You’re among friends.”

The waitress looked relieved and she smiled as Cathy put her gun back into her bag. “Do you folks like steak?” she asked.

Cathy and I nodded our heads, but Cathy pointed down to Violet, who hadn’t even seemed to notice the confrontation. “Could you fix my daughter a chicken strip basket?” she asked.

The waitress smiled and nodded her head. “Frank,” she called. “Give me two steak dinners and a chicken strip basket!” she then turned to the farmer. “I hope that’s okay with you.”

“My pleasure,” he said. “They’re also welcome to some dessert when they’ve finished eating. You can put it on my check.”

“Thank you,” I said.

“Yes,” said Cathy, “thank you, sir.”

He smiled and turned to face us. “I’m sorry about coming off like a jackass. These people here, they can tell you I’m a good guy. You’
ve got to understand … everything has changed after what happened yesterday. We’ve got to be careful who we trust. Have you people heard the latest?”

Cathy and I sat back down
, and I shook my head. From behind the counter came the sound of sizzling steaks. Kim, our waitress, walked over with three water glasses. “Coffee?” she asked.

I nodded my head. “Thank you.”

“Yes, please,” said Cathy. She then turned and swung her legs out of the booth. “We’ve been walking all morning. What have you heard?”

“The Blue Helmets have arrived,” replied the farmer. “I don’t have to tell you what that means.”

“Dear God,” moaned Cathy. “Are you sure?”

“It was on the news this morning,” said Kim, sadly. She was plump and matronly, with snow white hair and a cherub face. She poured our coffee and returned behind the counter.

“More are arriving by the hour,” continued the farmer. “And they’re landing in every state in the Union. What do you think about that?”

“I’
d say we’re at war,” replied Cathy. “I’m not going to stand for it. What about you?” she asked. “What do you think about that?”

The farmer smiled and
adjusted the toothpick in his mouth. “I’ll shoot the first one of those sons a bitches who steps onto my property. That’s a fact. Excuse my language, ma’am, but nobody is taking my guns.”

“Blue helmets?” I asked.

“U.N. soldiers,” said Cathy. “I can’t believe they’re here.”

“Oh, you’d better believe it,” replied the farmer. “They had it plastered all over the news this morning. They’re in all the major cities and they’re reporting to the commanders of the National Guard. They’re calling it a joint exercise, if you can believe that
load of crap.”

“That’s bullshit,” snapped Cathy. “They have no right to be here. How does everyone else feel about that? We have to stand up to them.”

Once again, the old farmer got to his feet and stood at the front window. He checked his watch then pointed out at the church. “That’s what we’re planning right now,” he said. “We’re organizing our troops and planning ou
r response. Those foreign bastards aren’t marching into Thistle and taking over our town. No ma’am, not while I’m still holding a gun,” he then pulled out his wallet and removed a single bill. He walked back to the counter and handed it to Kim. “That ought to cover the check,” he said. “Keep the change. Come on, boys. Time to get this show on the road,” he then turned to us. “Good luck to you folks. And God bless each of you.”

The
other men stood up and nodded at us. A moment later, the doorbell tinkled as they walked out into the sunshine. “Thank you!” cried Kim, waving the bill at the men.

We chatted some more with Kim as we waited for our dinners to be served. The man we had been talking to was named Merle
; he owned a dairy farm a few miles from town. “You should have told him you manage a dairy department,” joked Cathy. “If you had mentioned that, I might not have had to pull my gun on him.”

Kim laughed. “You’re probably right. Merle loves all things dairy.”

The steaks were rib-eyes, cooked medium, served with piles of tater tots and steaming sides of mixed vegetables. The three of us ate in silence, and the food was delicious. Violet devoured her chicken strips and picked at her fries. Without asking, Kim brought us each a big dish of ice cream. “This is on Merle,” she said. “He and the boys only had coffee and he gave me a hundred bucks. I’ve been waitressing for forty-some years and even with the ice cream, it’s still the biggest tip I’ve ever seen. He’s a good guy, and if he wasn’t married, I’d be on him like a fly on … well, you know what I mean.”

“Flypaper?” asked
Violet.

“Exactly,” replied Kim.

“I don’t suppose there’s a hardware store in town?” I asked. “We’ve still got a long road in front of us and I’d like to buy some bicycles. Any chance you know a place where I could find some bikes, is there?”

Kim smiled. “Mark Seaborg sells used bikes,” she said. “He’s over there in the church. You folks sit tight, I’ll make sure to catch him when he comes out. He lives just up the street and I know he’d sure appreciate the business. I used to be married to his brother, God rest his soul.”

“Thank you,” I said. “That would be great.”

“Do you think he might have a helmet?” asked Cathy.

“I’m sure he does. Mark runs a little shop out of his garage. People come around for miles to have him work on their bicycles. He’s a good man. If I hadn’t married his brother…”

Cathy and I exchanged a look and we both laughed.

“Oh dear,” said Kim. “I probably sound like the loneliest woman on the planet.”

I was just about to speak when a thundering explosion rocked the café on its foundation. The windows burst and the concussion nearly knocked
me to the floor. Kim screamed. I looked for her, but she had been knocked off her feet and fell behind the counter. With the echo still ringing in my ears, I staggered to my feet and checked on Cathy and Violet. We had been sitting next to a stout wall and they seemed to be okay. Frank, the cook, was already attending to Kim. I ran to the door. Cathy was right on my heels. We stepped through the ruined door frame and stared into the flames of hell. The beautiful church was gone; it had been replaced by a flaming shell that was already almost unrecognizable. Cathy slapped my arm and pointed to the sky. Overhead, a small aircraft began to bank in our direction. I had never seen a plane that size and shape. It almost appeared to be alien.

“That’s a drone!” shouted Cathy. “We’ve got to get out of here!”

I shook my fist in the air. “Those dirty bastards!”

Cathy was already running back inside the diner. I followed her in and was heartened to see Kim on her feet. She had a few minor cuts, but seemed otherwise to
be okay. She was sobbing, hysterically. Frank stood at her side and stared out at the flames that licked up at the blue sky.

“There’s a drone up there,” Cathy screamed, pointing a finger in the air. “You’ve got to get out of here!”

Frank looked at her with wild eyes, but both he and Kim stood where they were. I strapped on my pack as Cathy hustled Violet to the door. I grabbed the duffel bags and followed them out. Cathy pointed up to the sky. The drone had passed over its target and seemed to be slowly flying away from the devastation it had caused.

With Kim sobbing behind us and the crackl
e of burning wood across the street, we hurried down the cement sidewalk. Thistle’s main drag was eerily deserted, and I imagined that the entire town, save for Kim and Frank, had been killed in the explosion. A single white tennis shoe lay in the middle of the street. Violet stared curiously at what was left of the burning building as we passed. Cathy took her by the hand and hustled her away from the scene. I followed along, unable to think of anything except that we needed to put as much space between ourselves and Thistle as possible; an unbearable stench hung thick in the air.

Up ahead, a little sign announced
Mark’s
Bike Shop.
Cathy turned to me with a hopeful expression. I nodded my head and we jogged up to the front door of the neatly kept rambler. Like a chrome-plated Christmas wreath, a bicycle wheel hung next to the door. I took a deep breath and rang the bell. I waited and a moment and then started knocking. I hadn’t really expected anyone to answer, but I wanted to go through the motions. I turned to Cathy and shrugged. I then walked down the steps and around the side of the house to the garage. Flowers lined the narrow sidewalk that led to the two-stall garage.

We walked up to the service door and I tapped on the glass. I waited a few seconds and tried again. I tried the doorknob and wasn’t surprised to find it unlocked. I turned the knob and pulled open the door. “Hello, Mark?” I called. There was no response
, and in the dim light I could see a disappointingly small assortment of bicycles, each in various states of repair. A long work bench was covered in tools and wheels and chains and sprockets. The walls were decorated in similar fashion. I waved Cathy and Violet inside. “Come on,” I said. “Let’s see if we can find something to ride.”

“I don’t know,” said Cathy. “I don’t feel right about this.”

“We’re not going to steal anything. I’m going to pay for what we take. I’m sure the guy would understand.”

“This goes against everything I believe in.”

I spotted a small bicycle helmet and stepped inside to retrieve it. Cathy and Violet followed me inside. I turned and handed the blue helmet to Cathy. She held it in her hands and stared at it. I could tell she was having second thoughts, but she shrugged her shoulders and set the helmet on top of Violet’s head. The helmet seemed to fit and she nodded her head. We began checking out the bikes, but I could soon see that the few adult-sized bikes in the shop were going to need work. The only bicycles we found in working order were a pair of short BMX bikes and a girl’s bike from another era. The light blue girl’s bike had a banana seat and tall handlebars.

I spotted a colorful assortment of bungee cords and grabbed a handful. After a brief inspection, we wheeled the bikes out the door and peeled five hundred dollars out of my bankroll and scribbled a quick note. I left the cash on top of the note and closed the door behind me. Using the bungee cords, I strapped the duffel bags to the handlebars of the short BMX bikes and slung on my backpack.
Five minutes after we arrived, we were pedaling away down the sidewalk. Behind us, the wail of a siren cut through the air. An elderly couple stood outside of a little white bungalow and wept. I wondered what would happen to them, but I quickly put them out of my mind.