Page 35 of Small Town Beast 2: Saverin's Duet

The old man settled deeper in his chair and stared at the road, his thoughts a mystery to Tanya. “If you had a million dollars,” she asked, changing the subject, “What would you ask for?”

“New legs. Them robotic joints. I seen a man win a relay race with no legs, imagine that.”

“What else?”

“After I fixed my roof? A new TV.”

“You could get more than that for a million dollars.”

“Not the kind of TV I want,” he chuckled. “I don’t want for much, little miss Tanya. I’m old. I’ve lived my life. Some days it feels like I’m just waiting to die.” His laughter faded. “You better cherish what you have. Life is too short to give up on love.”

Before Tanya could answer it seemed the wind brought a change in the air; everything went still, and the birds in the trees took silent flight towards the forest. Wilks Johnny cocked his head like a sheepdog and listened to the silence, which turned into a quiet rumbling under their feet.

“Somebody’s coming.”

“He can’t be back already,” frowned Tanya. “He said he was going all the way down to Rowanville.”

“Get inside, lil’ bit,” said Wilks Johnny slowly, setting aside his Bible.

“What for?”

“Because,” said Wilks Johnny, “That ain’t your Mister Bailey that’s coming down my road.”

Tanya’s heart sank.No, no. He’s wrong. Nobody’s coming.Wilks Johnny rolled himself to the two-seater chair on theporch, lifted up the cushion and out of nowhere produced an 18-inch barrel Remington.

“What’s that for?” Tanya stammered.

“What do you think? Go on inside, babygirl. Don’t let them see you.”

She couldn’t take her eyes off the gun. It looked old, but well maintained. Double barrels gleamed in the morning sun from a fresh coat of mineral oil. Wilks Johnny must have cleaned it regularly, and with careful attention. He laid the weapon across his lap, never moving his gaze from the front gate.

Tanya reached for the handles on the wheelchair. “Let’s just go inside in case it’s trouble,” she said, keeping her voice calm. She had no intention of sitting out here with Wilks Johnny and his shotgun. This old head might act tough, but she wasn’t going to let him play Rambo out here on this porch. Besides, it was probably nothing that he’d heard; just the wind, just a truck on the main road, just...

Wilks Johnny swatted her off with surprising strength. “I’ve been to war. I don’t hide when strangers come up my road.”

“We shouldbothgo inside, make ‘em think nobody is home,” Tanya reasoned. “If there’s anybody there at all, I mean. Right? Sound carries funny in the hills sometimes.”

“I know what I heard,” said Wilks Johnny, checking the shotgun chamber.

Should she call Saverin? What could he do for them? He was probably in Rowanville already on his business; and anyway, it was too late. The old man had been correct: there were three F-150s pulling up to the gate and Saverin’s Legacy was nowhere in sight. Cold fear gripped her as a troop of white men poured out of the trucks. Tanya didn’t know much about guns, but she doubted Wilks Johnny’s piece could stand up to the fifteen or so pointed in their direction.

“What they could do to you is ten times worse than what they could do to me,” Wilks Johnny barked. “Run out back. You can get to the forest.”

Too late.They were at the gate now. So many of them… “I can’t leave you here by yourself, Mister.”

“You better put down that gun, coon,” the head of the pack called from over the fence. He was a tall, redheaded, ill-formed lump of freckles. He had a mean look to him and he seemed horribly familiar.

“One more step and I’ll light your ass up,” Wilks Johnny threatened.

The bulky redhead stopped at the gate, his shuffling goons positioning themselves so they could easily duck for cover.

“Where’s Bailey?” demanded Hiram, though Tanya didn’t know his name yet, still searching her brain for where she’d seen him before.The Appletree,her memory supplied.

Wilks Johnny’s knuckles paled on the Remington. “Watch your step, cowboy, unless it’s trouble you want.”

“Trouble don’t bother me,” said Hiram, showing his yellow teeth. “Trouble’s what I come for. Let me ask again: where’s Saverin Bailey?”

“He ain’t here.”

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