Page 15 of Left Behind

“No. You bring it over now. It’s Dad’s. I need it back,” Junior said.

Gunny frowned. “Dammit, Junior! I just got the cut in my knee glued shut. I hurt like hell, and I’m beat, and you gave me a registered gun? What the fuck’s wrong with you?”

The line went dead in his ear.

He went back to the safe and got the gun, then stopped at the kitchen table and broke it down, wiped his prints from every piece, and then wiped the ammo before reassembling the gun and reloading it. Then he hobbled back to his car and drove all the way across town and into the ritzy part of the city to Henley’s estate, pulled up in front of the iron gates across the driveway, then waited.

Moments later, the gates opened. He drove through, then around to the delivery entrance, got out with the gun, and rang the buzzer.

Seconds later, the door opened. Junior Henley was in the doorway. Gunny handed the gun over. “Are we good?” he asked.

“We’re good,” Junior said.

Gunny went back to the truck and drove home, but Junior’s troubles were just beginning. He had to get rid of his father’s gun and deal with the wrath of it going missing, and he had to let him know what had happened with the visit to Eggers. The lucky part for Junior was Daddy wasn’t home, so he loaded everything up in his Porsche, made a call, and left the property.

***

Johnny Knight was groggy from the pain pills he’d taken after lunch and lay down to sleep about midafternoon. Carey had tucked him in and told him she loved him, and that’s the last thing he remembered until he woke to a dark house. Surprised that it was so late, he rolled over to check the time and frowned. It was fifteen minutes after 3:00 a.m. and Carey wasn’t in bed beside him. He threw back the covers and sat up on the side of the bed until he got his bearings, and then grabbed his crutches and stood. The room was spinning, but it would stop, so he waited until it did and then went to the bathroom, sloshed some water on his face, and opened the bottle of pain meds. Only two left.

He replaced the lid and put it back in the cabinet. There was no money for refills, and the titanium rods and screws in his leg weren’t going away. He’d been a lineman for the electric company for almost ten years, and the fall he’d taken should have killed him. Instead, it had shattered his right leg from the knee down. The bones would knit back together, but he’d never climb another power pole or walk with ease again.

They’d been living off of Carey’s tips from waitressing while waiting for workman’s compensation to start paying out, and she wasn’t getting paid for five more days. He wasn’t sure he could hold out that long without pain meds, but he was about to find out.

He grabbed his crutches and headed for the living room, thinking Carey must have opted to sleep on the sofa to give him room in the bed. But the living room was empty, and when he began turning on the lights, it didn’t take long for him to realize her purse and phone were gone.

He hobbled back to the bedroom to get his phone, then sat back down on the side of the bed to call her and realized she’d left him a voicemail.

“Johnny, I caught the bus to Billy’s to borrow some money to get your meds refilled. He was just about to give me a ride home when someone drove up. Johnny gave me his car keys, told me to hide and, if I heard gunshots or fighting, to take his car and run.”

When she paused to take a breath, Johnny’s heart stopped, too. The panic in her voice was more than he could bear.

“There was a horrible argument, a lot of shouting, and I heard Billy say something that sounded like gunny or money, and the man said something about new men in the territory, then sounds of a fight and furniture breaking, then a gunshot. I ran out the back door, jumped in Billy’s car, and drove away. I know the man was following me, but the sun went down and now I’m driving in this terrible rainstorm. I don’t know where I am, and I think Billy’s dead, or he would have called.”

When she choked on a sob and paused, he wanted to cry with her, and then she continued.

“I think I took a wrong turn. I just wanted you to know. I’ll try to call again, but the cell service is spotty. I think I’m in the mountains. I love you.”

Johnny Knight was so scared he couldn’t breathe. His hands were trembling as he called her number over and over, but it kept going to voicemail, so he called his best friend, Thomas Wheaton. Tom was a cop. He would know what to do. But the phone rang and rang, and just as he thought it was going to go to voicemail, he heard Tom’s voice, short and bordering on aggravation.

“Damn it, Johnny. This better be good.”

“I just woke up. Carey’s gone and there’s a hell of a voicemail from her on my phone. She was at Billy’s. She thinks Billy’s dead, and she’s on the run from the man who shot him. She’s driving Billy’s car. She drove into a rainstorm in the dark and she’s lost. It’s all on the voicemail. I don’t know how to report this. I can’t fuckin’ walk, and our car is in the shop. I need help.”

Tom was already out of bed and pulling on clothes.

“I’m on the way. Hang in there, buddy. I need to hear the message to figure out who to report this to, and we’ll go from there. Give me fifteen minutes. Unlock your front door and turn on the porch light.”

“Thank you,” Johnny said, and then the line went dead.

He hobbled to the front door on his crutches, unlocked it, then turned on the porch light. He was hurting, but he wasn’t taking anything that would put him to sleep, so he popped three over-the-counter pain pills and sat down to wait.

***

Thomas Wheaton pulled up into the driveway at Johnny’s house, got out on the run, and when he walked in the house and saw the look on his buddy’s face, his heart sank.

“Have you heard back from her yet?”

Johnny shook his head and gave him the phone.

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