He watched another group of the poor and downtrodden who were being removed from the Keys. He shook his head in disappointment at the decision made by his aunt Lindsey, the mayor of the Conch Republic, as many of his newly deputized associates called her.
Jimmy, who wasn’t much for deep reflection or an analysis of the world around him, did realize his ex-aunt would be judged by her actions one day. Perhaps harshly. For him, family came first, at all costs. Not just his parents, but the Albrights, too.
Chapter Forty-Three
Monday, November 4
Near Cushing, Oklahoma
They’d made great time on the road. Sticking to the route suggested by Sheriff Mobley, they rode through Kansas without incident, stopping once to swap drivers and top off the gas tanks with fuel. He’d suggested to them that they keep the truck’s fuel tank as close to full as possible in the event someone stole their gas cans. At least their truck could travel on.
It was approaching five o’clock when they stopped next to Cushing Lake, just west of the small town located equidistant between Tulsa and Oklahoma City. They’d come upon an Oklahoma Department of Transportation facility, where salt and sand trucks were ready to clear the roads as winter set in. However, the place was locked up and lacking any activity. Even the United States and Oklahoma state flags had been lowered and stored away.
Tucker took a chance and used the bolt cutters he’d found to open the chain that padlocked the fenced entry. Lacey drove into the maintenance yard and found a place at the back to park their truck. They topped up the fuel tank, had a snack, and relieved their bladders. Then they set about looking for more gasoline.
Lacey was the first to spy the two zero-turn riding lawn mowers tucked away in the back of the open maintenance shed. She shouted for Tucker, who came running. He easily broke open the small padlocks with the heavy-duty bolt cutters and found four five-gallon cans. Three were full, and one was half full.
Then he found a water hose and cut it into a six-foot length using the bolt cutters. Although he’d never done it before, he figured out how to siphon the gasoline out of the mowers until the fourth can was full. Then he took the time to transfer the newly found gas into their own empty camouflage containers.
“Mom, this was a great score. We might be able to make it home on what we have now.”
Lacey wandered away from him and into the darkness that had overtaken Oklahoma. She turned her head sideways and squinted her eyes to focus.
“Do you hear that?”
Tucker, who was breathing heavily after hoisting the fuel cans back on top of the Bronco, joined her side. He tried to control his breathing so he could hear better.
“What? I can’t—”
The roar of an engine grew louder as it approached.
Lacey was on the move. “Something’s coming. We’ve got to get ready.”
“Crap!” he said as he fished the truck’s keys out of his pocket and rushed toward the driver’s door. Lacey followed him and swung open the passenger door. Before climbing in, she pulled the seat up and retrieved one of the handguns they’d been carrying.
The vehicle, which had appeared to be traveling at a high rate of speed as it came upon the maintenance facility, suddenly slowed at the gate. It skidded to a stop in the gravel.
Tucker had parked the Bronco behind the single-story metal building near a wood privacy fence surrounding a dumpster. They were unable to see the gated entry, but in the quiet, powerless world, any sound was amplified.
Both he and Lacey rolled down their windows to listen. Suddenly, the vehicle revved its engines and spun out, throwing gravel against the undercarriage. The headlights told the story as it washed the trees to their right and then the side of the building they were hiding behind.
They could hear voices as the vehicle raced through the gates. People were laughing, and the sound of a bottle crashing against the No Trespassing sign affixed to the fence could be heard.
Tucker leaned forward in his seat and nervously fiddled with the keys in the ignition. He glanced over his left shoulder to see if the headlights gave away the newcomers’ intentions. As best he could tell, they were stationary, shining on the front of the corrugated steel building he and Lacey were hiding behind.
“Maybe they’ll leave,” Lacey whispered to her son. She hadn’t blinked since the vehicle pulled through the gate.
A car door slammed. Followed by another. They were exiting the vehicle and talking loudly.
Tucker kept his fingers on the keys, ready to fire the ignition as soon as he felt he had a chance.
The sound of breaking glass startled them both. The new arrivals broke into the DOT offices and were clearing out the excess shards so they could climb through.
Tucker’s mind raced. He turned to his mom. “Gimme the gun.”
“Why?” she questioned.
“Because their truck is on my side. Trust me.”
Lacey hesitated but then handed it over to him. Tucker flipped off the safety and gripped it in his left hand. He turned to his mom in the darkness.
“Hold on tight, Mom.”
Lacey nodded and braced herself using the dashboard. Her eyes darted between her son and the chain-link fence a few hundred feet in front of them.
Tucker started the Bronco. The noisy motor immediately grabbed the attention of the newcomers, as their excited shouts from inside the building indicated. Tucker wasted no time in moving from behind the building. He whipped the wheel to the left, causing the top-heavy truck to sway to the side. He and Lacey were both thrown toward the passenger side before he corrected and drove around a Caterpillar backhoe.
He held
