Chapter 9
Kyle crouched in the brush fifty feet from the road that lead into town. He was delighted to finally be doing something. Having an opportunity to get back at these people, whoever they were, brought a little satisfaction.
He looked at his watch; half past midnight.
Steve had dropped him off farther west of his current location, a place just before the walls of the mesa opened back up. After Steve left, Kyle went to work.
He took a five gallon bucket of nails, screws and tacks and poured them from side to side several feet up the road. Any vehicle that went this way would immediately get a flat tire and effectively block some of the road. Any vehicle which tried to pass would meet with the Kyle’s planned demise.
Then Kyle took a second bucket and went to the top of the mesa and waited in the brush.
Steve and Bren would do their part, the people from the mine would come to the town and investigate what was happening. They would roll over the road hazard down the street and they would have to stop. Kyle was waiting until they passed his spot, then he would come out of the bushes and strewn a second bucket of nails, screws and tacks across the east end of the road. The hope was to put whoever came on foot or at least slow them down as much as possible. The goal was to give TJ as much time as possible to search out the mine.
Kyle wondered what he would have done had TJ and Steve not been with him during this time. He thanked God that he didn’t have to face this thing alone. The three had always been there for each other. Steve was the compassionate, rational one, the heart of their little three musketeer group. He made sure things never got out of hand, well… not too out of hand anyway. Kyle smiled at that.
Then there was TJ. He was the goof ball, he always had a plan, a scheme, a story, a sock in the arm or a head lock to give. It was his schemes that Steve tried to make sure didn’t get out of hand. Like the time when TJ wanted to walk on water. They rowed out on the lake in a canoe. TJ tied milk jugs to his feet and got out of the boat. TJ still swears he stood on the water as long as the apostle Peter must have.
Where do I fit in? Kyle wondered for a moment. Kyle was the one who glued them together. He made sure TJ had his fun and Steve had his say. It was like having two older brothers. Steve and TJ would disagree and they would look to Kyle. He would say what he thought and then one of two things would happen; TJ or Steve would change his mind and agree or they would both turn and gang up on Kyle. They were his best friends in the world.
CRACK! A loud noise behind him started his heart to racing. He looked in the direction it came from but it was too dark to see what it was. Something was heading his way quickly, something large. He picked up his rifle.
*****
Bren stood in the fire station near the air raid siren switch. Her palms were sweating. She hopped a little on one foot. She was a little nervous, much like the feeling she would get before a soccer game. She wasn’t scared, just excited… and anxious. In spite of all that was going on she had to admit this was kind of fun. She was always one for a bit of mischief.
They had found a few houses that were empty. They broke in and prepared them so that they could actually set them on fire. That was fun in itself. The boys wanted to set fire to Mr. McGruder’s home, but Bren pleaded with them not to. She had a soft spot for the lonely old man. She knew he had been very mean to the boys, sometimes not without merit though.
She could remember when the boys had wanted to help mow his lawn. Steve and TJ walked their lawnmower down to his house and just began cleaning up the yard without asking. Mr. McGruder came out with his shotgun and ran them off.
“Knowing those two I’d probably do the same,” she laughed to herself.
When Bren told her mother about it, her mother told her that Mr. McGruder had once been a prominent man in the town; everyone looked to him and respected him. He was known to give you the shirt off his back if you needed it, but then he lost his son in the war and shortly after that his wife died of a broken heart. Mr. McGruder stopped talking to people and became more and more bitter.
The story broke Bren’s heart. She decided she would commit to praying for Mr. McGruder and take him some cookies. She went to his house and knocked. He answered the door with a loud “WHAT?” that had startled Bren. She had jumped almost four feet in the air. She left the cookies on his porch and ran home.
She always brought him cookies on holidays now. There were a few times that he would look out his window and watch her leave, but he never said anything. Sadly she had not been as faithful in praying for him as she had been in taking him goodies. God forgive me, she thought. What she would not do to be able to bake some cookies and bring them to him now.
The room she was in was neat and well-kept and sparsely decorated. A chair a desk, a radio and a table with magazines on it; just what you might expect for a volunteer fire department. She sat in the chair and checked her watch. Not much longer now.
She thought about the stories she used to write as a kid. Boy, she wished they were true now. Battery operated capes, Steve had been a super hero, and Kyle had had a super-powered yoyo. TJ and Bren had been heroes and always Callie and Anna (Bren and TJ’s little sisters) the super villains. The thought those two brought her back to the harsh reality of the moment.
She might not see them ever again. She took a deep breath to forestall the tears that threatened to flow again. She was tired of crying. She checked her watch again and then she began to pray.
*****
Steve checked his watch too. He would give TJ fifteen more minutes and then…then he and Bren would do their best at starting chaos. He hoped the power generator was enough to get the air raid siren going. He and TJ drove out to the power station after dropping Kyle off. They wanted to see what the men that Bren seen had do to this.
When they arrived they found that the lines had been cut and one line had been spliced into the power grid. It looked like the line ran across the power polls toward the direction of the mine. They assumed the “bad guys” where somehow using the power of the town.
Steve decided he and TJ would fix that. They had tied a rope to the line and then to the back of the jeep. Once the fires were started and the siren blaring Steve would pull the power line down. They hoped to cause some more confusion for their enemies.
He got out of the jeep and onto his bike. He would ride to the first house where they would start the fire. Once that fire was started he would head to the next house and Bren would start the siren. Then she would start the fires in the buildings in town. Once all the fires were going, with the video rolling, they would meet back here and pull down the power line.
“Perfect plan,” TJ had said. Steve hoped so.
Steve stopped in front of the house and readied the Molotov cocktails. He checked the street in both directions he took the lighter from his back pocket and paused. He set the lighter down on the ground and knelt on the lawn. He started to pray.
