Ralph is dead, thought Cory. That can’t be good. He wondered who was in charge now.
Drake noticed all of the windows were open, with people everywhere holding tissues over their noses.
“Is Ralph dead?” asked Cory bluntly.
“Who’s askin’?” questioned the man with the rifle.
“My name is Cory Lerner, and I’m the former Chief of Police for the City of Loveland. And who might I be speaking with?” he asked, understanding it probably didn’t matter all that much.
“I’m guard number one,” he stated, smiling, “and this here is guard number two and three right over there.”
“And just what are you guarding?” Cory asked.
“Why, that would be our fearless leader, of course. But he can’t come to the door right now on account of some cowards down the road shooting him in the back.”
Cory knew he was not shot in the back but felt arguing the point would not advance his agenda. He only hoped he wouldn’t have to try his new FBI skills, most of which he had been using for years on abusive boyfriends and overserved drunks at local bars.
“I’m guessin’ you’re here for the boy?” he asked.
“Yes, we are,” replied Cory, happy that they were getting to the point right away. “We would like to speak with Ralph first.”
“What did you say your name was again, fella?”
“Cory. Cory Lerner.”
“Hold on,” he said, motioning to guards number two and three to stay put.
Minutes later, he returned, holding a handkerchief over his nose.
“He will see you inside, but alone. Your friend will have to wait here.”
“Agreed,” said Cory, walking slowly ahead of the man with a gun.
He was fully expecting to be pat down, but then realized who he was dealing with. Holding the collar of his shirt over his mouth and nose, he wondered where the smell was coming from. Every corner of the house was covered in food wrappers and trash. Men, women and children sat in circles eating out of cans, licking their dirty fingers after each bite, with only a few lucky enough to have a utensil. The scene, coupled with the gagging smell, was enough to test the stomach of even a hardened cop.
Once inside the room farthest back in the house, he saw a young woman inspecting a bandage on Ralph’s stomach. Ralph asked her to leave and dismissed his guard as well, telling him “It’s all right. We know each other.”
“How are you holding up, Ralph?” asked Cory, hoping to take him off guard a little with the first question.
“Oh, I’m all right. I’m still alive and kicking—the good Lord has seen to that!”
Cory highly doubted God would spend any energy to save a guy like him but kept it to himself.
“I guess you may know why I came up here today, Ralph, but I would like to hear your side of things.”
“You really want to hear my side?” asked Ralph.
“Yes, I do.”
Cory listened intently, nodding and using facial gestures when appropriate, without agreeing with him. He purposely did not ask any questions until Ralph was finished, and then recapped the story.
“Just so I have this straight, you care deeply about both your wife and son and thought she would come up here to see you after you were reunited with Joshua, who asked your men to let him see you. You also want to be a happy family like before the lights went out, and you believe that Mac is driving a wedge between you and her, so he can steal her away for his own. Am I missing anything?” asked Cory politely and without sarcasm of any kind in his tone.
“I knew you were different from the rest of them, Chief. They won’t even listen to me. They just say what they are going to do, and I don’t have any choice in the matter.”
“I have a boy, as you already know,” continued Cory, “but you may not know I used to have a wife, before she passed to cancer. It was hard not having her by my side, but I knew the one thing I could do was to make sure my son was taken care of properly and given the best chance of a good future until I got to see her again. Does that make sense, Ralph?”
“Sure, and I’m sorry to hear about your wife. I didn’t know that.”
“Thank you,” replied Cory. “Your son, is he okay?”
“Yes, he is fine.”
“That’s good to hear. It’s not so bad here in your room, but there is a smell out there in the house,” he added, pointing towards the door.
“Yes, I am aware of it,” replied Ralph.
“My group is going to want to know what happened, and I would like to let them know it’s not what they would think.”
“What will they think?” asked Ralph, seeming concerned for the very first time since Cory arrived.
“Well, they will think…you are killing people up here is what I imagine.”
He realized that this questioning was probably not advised by or included in the FBI’s negotiations steps, but he was getting a dialog formed, and so far, it seemed to be going all right.
“It’s not like that. We had an older woman die a few days back, apparently of natural causes, and nobody wants to move the body. They’re all worried about getting sick if they touch her.”
“I can tell you right now,” replied Cory, “they will be sick soon if they don’t. Your son, Joshua, is a good boy, I hear. As fathers, we all want the best for our children. He’s happy down the mountain. He feels safe and has friends to play with.”
Ralph nodded his head in agreement. Then pausing, his face changed, turning a slight red.
“I heard about the
