9 Seconds of Freedom, Original Suspense, Part 30, Links to first 29 parts
The Whippoorwill looks even worse at dawn. Whatever was in the moonshine had done the trick. Not only had I slept like the dead, but I had no hangover and most of my bumps and bruises felt better too.
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The woods around the bar were swimming in mist. The sun hadn’t even come up yet. Boots was gone. I opened the door of the car and got out. I went to the door of the bar and opened it. It was warm inside. I walked in.
“Boots?” I called.
“In here,” Boots said.
Her voice was muffled.
I made my way to the end of the structure, the floor sagging and bouncing underneath me. There was a curtain dividing the room, that had once been bedspreads, right behind the round, oak dining table where the bald woman had dealt poker the last time I was here. I hadn’t planned on being back so soon.
I pushed the curtain aside and stepped through. The room was dark. One end was stacked, floor to ceiling with metal framed restaurant chairs and square pub tables. There were stacks of empty liquor cartons filled with crushed beer cans stacked in one corner. Classy place.
“What’s this?” I asked.
“Private party room, ain’t it swanky?” Leeanne said.
She looked like hell.
“Come here,” she said.
I stood my ground.
“Last time I saw you, you tried to kill me,” I said.
She sighed. Tears filled her eyes.
“I know,” she said. “I’ve been here, drinking ever since, trying to forget it, pretend it didn’t happen. You were the last person I wanted to go off on, Dalton, I just…”
“Yeah, well, we better get headed back,” I said.
“What?” she said.
“The mayor wants to meet you,” I said. “And far as I can tell, there’s not one good reason I shouldn’t give you up. It’s me or you.”
Leeanne laughed. The sound was bitter. She took a pull from a bottle in her lap.
“Whatever, Dalton West,” she said. “I know you. You’re just mad, and maybe you won’t love me now, I wouldn’t blame you, but you’d never give them the satisfaction.”
She was right. But, I needed her to believe I was capable.
“You don’t know me,” I said. “Hell, I don’t even know myself. But, I know one thing. In the past few days, I’ve been through enough to convince me that I want to live. With, or without you, with or without knowing who I am. Because I’m pretty great. I’m okay with the me I know now.”
“You stupid boy,” Leeanne said.
She stood up and set the bottle down. She came over and ran her fingers through my hair. I winced. She traced the bruises on my neck with a fingertip. She kissed her fingers and applied them to every black mark, one by one. I was shivering.
There are some advantages to having no memory. For instance, I didn’t have any fears, ingrained from years of experience. But, there were disadvantages too. I had no years of experience. A part of me was screaming that I should know better.
But, I just didn’t.
I pulled Leeanne in and kissed her. I ran my hand up her back and cradled her head. She melted into me. We stayed like that for a long time. Then she pushed back, and slapped me playfully. It still stung.
“That’s for not coming after me,” she said.
“You’re kidding right? You left me unconscious in the middle of the road. I just woke up yesterday morning at 7 a.m., and here I am. Doesn’t that count?” I asked.
She hugged me. “I’ll let you know when it counts Dalton,” she said.
I had no doubt she would.
Boots had left us alone.
“So, what’s next?” I asked.
“You tell me,” she said.
“I have forty-eight hours to turn you over to the mayor, before they launch a manhunt, with me as Vern’s killer,” I said.
“Starting when?” she asked.
“Yesterday afternoon,” I said.
Boots brought coffee and plates of breakfast. I pulled one of the square tables from the stack and set it upright. Leeanne pulled up chairs. We ate. I couldn’t remember eggs and bacon tasting this good.
“Hey, let me see your phone,” I said.
“I doubt it gets service out here,” she said.
“We got WIFI,” Martha said.
She came from the other room and stood in the open curtain.
“Just had it installed. I was tired of not being to Netflix and chill,” she said.
I laughed.
Leeanne entered her password and laid the phone on the table. I logged into my Instagram account and pulled up the picture. The WIFI was slow. While the picture downloaded, I finished my coffee.
“Take a look at that,” I said.
“Nice picture,” Leeanne said. She smiled. “I’m going to miss her. Wait, who’s that?”
Leeanne pointed to the figure on the ridge. She touched the screen and enlarged the image. It looked like Sheriff Crawford. But as she scrolled in, something else caught my eye.
“Let me see that,” I said.
“It’s just Crawford,” she said. “No surprise there. But why was he watching us?”
“Not that, there, to the left of my elbow. On the fireplace. Initials,” I said.
I squinted at the picture, to the left of my elbow, right in the center of the mantle, one of the rocks appeared to have two initials carved into it. “DW”.
“DW, that’s you,” she said.
“Except it’s not,” I said.
“That’s weird,” she said.
I looked at the rest of the picture. We were all smiling, but there was something about Annabelle. Something a little out of place. She was pointing. Her left hand grabbed her sweater, but her fingers were pointing, directly to the two initials.
“She’s pointing right at it,” I said.
Leeanne looked closer. “Huh, how weird is that?”
“Weird enough to make me go back and look it over. She was the one that wanted the picture, then we kept moving to the side. That must have been hidden in our first pose,” I said. “Do you think she was trying to tell me something?”
“Dalton,” Leeanne said. “Could I ask you a favor?”
I looked at her. She looked serious. I wasn’t sure I liked where this might be going.
“Okay,” I said. “You can ask.”
She pushed the phone, with the picture on it, to the edge of the table, away from us.
“Could you put this on hold, just put it over there and put a pin it? While we rescue my sister?” she asked.
It hit me like a rock to the head. Here I was, figuring out how she could help me. I wanted to help her, to be sure, but she was right. I was just after the relationship we might have, once she was free from all this. Meanwhile, her concern had been for her sister.
I looked at my watch. It almost nine AM. If I was going to stop the mayor and company from ruining my life, I only had one day to do it.
“Okay, how do you suggest we begin?” I asked.
“I want to break her out of The Farm,” she said.
I laughed. I wasn’t exactly commando material, and my whole tactical team consisted of two ex, female cage fighters and an Amazon looking bar tender.
“How do you suggest we do that?” I asked.
Leeanne took me to the window. The gravel lot in front of The Whippoorwill was filling up with trucks. Rednecks of every shape and size were gassing up four wheelers, loading rifles and cleaning shotguns. She’d raised an army.
"9 Seconds of Freedom" Catchy title. It's a good read keep it up :)
Hey, thanks. The title has a meaning you'll discover.