Half Past Midnight

and a broken knee.” Larry.

He must not have recovered. I remembered leaving him tied up, but we’d left his left hand untied, his wounded arm. It would have been painful, but I felt sure he would be able to get his right hand untied from his ankles with a little work, unless he had reopened the wound in his shoulder and bled to death in the process. Why hadn’t I thought of that at the time?

“He must have bled to death,” I said lamely.

Kelland nodded. “That’s what the officers guessed.”

“So what does this mean?”

“It means that you killed three men on the way out here, and then reported it to the authorities as soon as you could.” He sat back in his chair having found something in my reaction that satisfied him that I wasn’t hiding anything. “That tells me you’re either honest, or sneaky. When I mentioned three bodies, it surprised you. You didn’t expect three of them to be dead. That leads me to believe you’re honest. And it tells me you didn’t intend to kill the third guy, even though according to your report, he was gonna kill you.”

He remained silent for a moment, tapping his pencil on the table between us before he continued, “I took over when Davis died because my men and the mayor thought I was the best man for the job. So do I. I’m good at it. It may not seem like much to you, bein’ from a big city and all, but right now, right here, I’m the best there is. And I learned a long time ago that in this job, you’ve got to learn to trust your gut.

“The facts that we have, Mr. Dawcett, say that you are either a magnet for bad luck, or you’re a homicidal maniac. Either way, I’m not wild about having you in my jurisdiction.” He surprised me then by smiling. “But I think we had that conversation yesterday.

“A homicidal maniac wouldn’t be surprised to find one of his victims was dead. He wouldn’t give details on where the bodies were and how he took them by surprise, and he sure as hell wouldn’t drag one of them back to the hospital. All of your bodies are right where you said they’d be.

“I don’t think you’re lying.” He swung his legs off of the table and leaned toward me. “’Course, I don’t think you’re tellin’ me the whole truth, either. There’s the matter of a cabin full of supplies my boys found in that clearing by those bodies.”

Leaning on the table, he queried, “Why would a person as much into survival as you say you are leave all of those supplies when you could’ve just loaded them in your van and taken them with you?” There was obviously a lot more to Chief Kelland than first met the eye. “Maybe ’cause your van was already full?”

Ouch! And he was just getting started. “And what happened to the weapons those hijackers had?”

Uncomfortable, I tried to answer that one. “The two survivors must have taken them.”

He shrugged. “Could be. But I don’t think so. You’d have been stupid to leave them there,” he drawled. “I think you got ’em. I think you got all their weapons. And I bet if we search y’all’s place real good, we’ll find that you folks have been hoardin’ enough food and supplies to last you a long, long time.”

No, uncomfortable wasn’t a strong enough word. Scared. That was the word. In this post-holocaust version of Rejas, Texas, just how serious an offense had hoarding become? Through a very dry mouth, I asked, “Why would you think that?”

“Because most of the boxes y’all left in that cabin were marked as food. You left the food and a good selection of tools and supplies. That tells me you already had a van full of that kind of stuff. By the way, the food in that cabin went into our community food supply.”

Was that what he was after? Our food and supplies? “You’d need a warrant to search the place.”

“Says who?” He smiled. “What are you gonna do? Call the police?”

He had me with my own words. Kelland leaned back and raised his hands in a placating gesture. “Don’t worry, Mr. Dawcett. I ain’t sendin’ my boys out there. Hoarding ain’t a crime out here. Not yet, anyway. I just want you to know you ain’t hidin’ near as much as you thought you were.

“See, I’d rather have you workin’ with me than against me. Especially seein’ how the last bunch that went up against you ended up.”

“I didn’t do it by myself.”

“Yup.” He pulled another sheet of paper out of the file on the table. “Kenneth Simms spent six years as a scout in the U.S. Marines. I got nothin’ but respect for a man who served in the Gulf.”

“Is that why you called him a nigger?” I couldn’t let that slide.

It didn’t seem to faze him. “Nope, I did that just to piss you off. I figured you shared a shelter with the man, broke bread with him, and spilled blood with him. You wouldn’t go through all that with someone you didn’t trust and care about. I figured if I made you mad, maybe you’d slip up, give something away.”

The man was a lot smarter than I had ever given him credit for. But he had all but told me that he no longer thought I was a cold-blooded killer. “Look, Kelland, what exactly is it you want from me?”

He stopped for a second as if considering the question. “Well, at first I wanted your ass in jail. More than that, I wanted you hangin’ from a rope.” He gave me that infuriating grin again before he continued. “I thought I had me a killer on my hands, the likes of which we ain’t seen since the Reverend Jim Jones. Now, though, I think you just have a talent for bein’ in the wrong place at the wrong time. I guess you really did me a favor out there at the Kindley’s place, gettin’ them boys like you did. No tellin’ how many others they’d ’ve killed if y’all hadn’t stopped ’em.”

He paused only a second before surprising me again by standing smoothly and extending his hand for me to shake. “So I want to thank you. And I want to apologize for the way I treated you. I had no call for it. And most of all, I want you to think about somethin’ you told me yesterday. You told me you weren’t city folk anymore, that you’re Rejas folk now. Well, Rejas needs help, all the help it can get. Think about that.” Somewhat dumbfounded, I shook his proffered hand.

“I trust my gut, Mr. Dawcett. I don’t like you much; you’re too selfish for my taste. But you’re no cold blooded killer, either.” He waved at the door. “You’re free to go.”

A very sobered individual, I walked to the door. During the course of the last few minutes, I had grown to respect the man that I had before despised. He had given me a new perspective on things. I reached for the knob, then stopped. Staring intently at the doorframe, I spoke again. “Something I didn’t put on that questionnaire.”

Turning to face him, I took a deep breath. “I’m a self-defense instructor. Or I was. Anyway, I’d be happy to train any of your men that are interested.” I grinned weakly. “No charge.”

“Looks like you probably know what you’re doing in that area, too.” He returned the grin. “I’ll pass the word to my men. It’s a start, Mr. Dawcett, it’s a start.”

July 5

The next day Ken, Megan, and I found ourselves answering questions for Mr. Fred Morgan, the top reporter for The Rejas Chronicle. He was also the editor and owner. Truth be told, he wasThe Rejas Chronicle. The Chronicle, it turned out, was a small mimeographed newspaper, not much more than a few sheets of paper stapled together, mostly consisting of announcements and official notices of the goings on of what was left of the town government and where they needed work. Ours was just the type of story The Chronicle needed, Morgan told us, to break the monotony. Readers were tired of reading nothing other than where volunteers were needed and who had died in the night.

“’Justice Triumphs over Evil,’ ” he exclaimed enthusiastically, his hands tracing imaginary headlines. “It’s just what the doctor ordered!”

We were surprised to find that news of our battle had spread so rapidly, even more surprised to find that we were considered heroes by half of the town. As I showed him to the door, I asked how he had found out about everything.

He chuckled. “You kidding? I’ll bet y’all hadn’t been out of the jailhouse five minutes ’fore Kelland had a runner over to see me and give me most of the details. Said it might give folks a little bit of sunshine in the middle of all the gloom that’s been goin’ ’round.”

Kelland had again surprised me. I shook Mr. Morgan’s hand before he left.

The next day, we all got a kick out of reading about our incredible victory over a veritable army of marauders. Then I sobered as I read the notice beneath the story.

VOLUNTEERS NEEDED FOR BURIAL DETAIL