9 Seconds of Freedom, a Dalton West Suspense story, Part 10, links to earlier chapters.

markrmorrisjr (70)in #fiction • 7 years ago

Rural Oklahoma is the kind of place where you could find your way to the next town by just climbing the nearest hill and looking for grain elevators. They almost all have one. Some of them were still in use, but nearly every town had one, falling down, or not. That, and a water tower.

story continued after chapter links!

If you haven't read earlier chapters, get caught up!

In this part of the state, modern wind generators also dotted the landscape. I hated them. Seemed like they took up the best parts of the skyline. I’d seen a video of one catching fire, the giant propeller grinding to a halt, then dropping, as black smoke boiled out of the massive generator, fifty feet in the air. They were hideous. I loved that video.

From River Grove, the road took a rise and a couple of miles later, I could see almost to the state line, I guessed. As I crested the ridge, I counted five grain elevators from where I was. I checked my rearview mirror. I could see back down the road for about three miles, no one was in sight.

My plan was to skirt through a few of these towns, wait until dark, then find a spot to dump the contents of my truck bed. Seemed easy enough. Sometimes when you’re wrong, you’re just plain wrong. I was about as wrong as I had ever been.
I pulled up to the Kozy Diner in Hobart, just as the sun was setting. Hobart was the quintessential Oklahoma town. It had the three obligatory blocks of late Victorian, red brick shops, two stories tall. It featured a town square with a court house lawn. And right across the street was the Esquire Theater. From the marquis, it had been there since the middle of last century, or earlier.

I took a table near the window and ordered an Indian Taco. The waitress admired the Chevy.

“Nice truck, my dad had one just like it when I was a kid,” she said.
“Bought it from a guy in Weatherford a few months back,” I said.

She brought my food and kept my drink filled. I was one of two customers in the place. I asked for my check and went to use the restroom.

When I came out, a sporty black sedan was nosing slowly past my truck, parked nose in, against the curb out front. I bent low to see the driver. The tinted windows blocked my view. I ran to the door.

As I reached the sidewalk, the car accelerated, squealing as it pulled away. I hopped in the truck and started it up, backing out into traffic. The next car skidded to a halt, just missing my bumper. I slapped the truck into drive and pulled away, after the black sedan.

A mile outside of town, I caught site of the smaller car, topping the next rise. I could barely make it out in the fading light. The taillights bounced as it crested the hill. I punched the gas.

As I drove, thoughts flew through my mind. How did they find me? I’d watched my mirror all afternoon. No one had been behind me when I got to Hobart. I was sure of that much. Maybe they were tracking me somehow? There weren’t many red 1967 Chevy trucks around, maybe cops in these little towns just informed each other?
But the bigger question was why were they afraid of me? Did they know something about me from before? Or, were they just protecting their little town. That didn’t seem likely, and since I couldn’t really do much about before I lost my memory, I shifted mental gears.

I went through what had happened in River Grove so far. I’d been arrested. The mayor had insisted I be freed and not ticketed. I’d gotten in business with her partners, unwittingly. Her son had something against me. The sheriff seemed worried about me too, but the mayor had been nothing but friendly.

Something else came to my mind. What about that afternoon? What was Leeanne’s problem with the mayor? Why had she disappeared? Was it connected? That didn’t’ seem possible, I didn’t even know her. I’d seen her twice. We’d barely spoken. But maybe they didn’t know that?

I almost missed the plume of dirt as I came over the rise. There was a narrow dirt track running off to the right, and dust was settling back, glowing orange in the last rays of the sun. I skidded the truck in a U turn and dropped off the pavement, into the soft dusty road. I rolled to a stop. It didn’t pay to charge into things like this.

From the looks of this track, it was a dead end. It was probably the only way in or out. I guessed Hal had just ducked down here to hide. He was probably sitting in the car, up over the next hill, just waiting me out. But, maybe not. What if there was more to this place?

I looked in my mirror. There was almost no traffic on the road. No one had passed me since I stopped. I nosed the truck off the roadway into a ditch and got out. It hadn’t rained in weeks. The ground was hard, even at the bottom of the ditch. I was safe to park it there. I started walking.

About thirty yards in, the road cut through a barbed wire fence, with a cattle guard, then started to rise. As I approached the top of the hill, something occurred to me. If Hal was waiting for me, and I just walked right over this hill, he could see me, I couldn’t see him. I’d make a perfect target, framed against the fading light.

I cut off the road and headed up a ravine on the left, sage brush whipping past my pants legs. At the top of the hill, was a patch of sumac. It grows about waste high, the perfect cover to get a look at what was going on.

Crawling through sumac isn’t exactly an ideal way to spend an evening. But, I got there. From the top of the ridge, I could see down the road to where the black car had pulled off. There was a rusty metal barn at the side of the track and a sheriff’s cruiser was parked next to the black sedan.

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