Shit, shit, shit. Bobby looked at Jake, eyes wide.
Jake said, “Be calm, sit still.” He kept his hands on the steering wheel.
He saw a man approach his window. He was in a dark gray rain slicker, blending with the dark gray clouds. The man had a handgun, which he used to tap on Jake’s window so hard Jake thought it might break.
It didn’t.
He had two options—bolt or talk. Running would be dumb. His truck couldn’t compete with those two monster trucks, and he didn’t know this land. He was heading straight through, but what if others waited on the other end of the road? What if they started shooting at Jake’s truck? Hewastrespassing, after all.
He rolled down his window. He was near blinded by the spotlights, but he made out a man in his forties with a long beard and thick mustache, wearing a wide-brimmed, well-worn cowboy hat.
“You’re trespassing, son. Turn around, go back the way you came.”
“I’m Jake McKenna, and—”
“I know who you are. You’re still trespassing. Willfully, I might add. The sign on the road is still up, it’s clear what it says.”
“Yes, sir, it is. And I’m sorry, but this is the only way I can get home. Orchard Lane is flooded to the east, I tried to go down Hopper Road, but an oak fell and blocked it. Rock Creek is flooded, so this is the only way I can get home.”
When the man didn’t immediately say anything, Jake continued, “The Mendozas who live on the other end of Orchard from us, they were held hostage by three robbers who shot Greg Baldwin and his dog last night. Now, those people have my sister and I have to get home to help my mother. I’ll make it up to you assoon as the storm passes. I’m strong, and I’m good with cattle and horses.”
The man walked away without saying anything else, went over to one of the trucks. Jake couldn’t see him anymore, nor could he hear what anyone said. His chest grew tight and he wasn’t above begging, but he doubted these people would respect him if he begged.
“What’s happening?” Bobby whispered.
“I don’t know,” Jake admitted. “Just sit still, it’ll be okay.” He hoped.
A full two minutes later, the bearded man returned. “My pa says to let you go through. He says Penny’s pecan pies are the best in Texas, was wondering if you’d ask her to bake a few. Maybe bring her over for a visit, Pa says it’s been a while.”
“They are the best in Texas,” Jake said, not quite believing what this man was saying. “I’m sure she’d be happy to.”
The man nodded once. “We’ll be on the lookout for any strangers out this way. Oh, and call when you plan to bring the pies so we know when to expect y’all. And there’s a gate at the end of this here road. It’s closed with a chain, but it’s not locked. You make sure you close it back up.”
“Yes, sir. I know I don’t have a right to ask a favor, but could you call my house and let my mom know I’m on my way back? We should have been home an hour ago.”
He shook his head. “Phone lines are down. Sorry.”
“That’s okay, thanks, Mr. Chisum.”
“Call me Maverick. I knew your pa. Sorry about his accident.”
Jake nodded, rolled up his window, and drove forward. The trucks stayed where they were until suddenly the lights went off and Jake was again in the dark.
“That was stressful,” Jake said out loud.
“They didn’t seem so bad,” Bobby said. “I think it’s like Grandma says, some peacocks like to strut their feathers more than others, but they’re all just birds.”
Jake laughed, and the tension eased.
Ten minutes later, he was at the end of the private lane. There was in fact a closed gate; Jake braced himself against the wind, unchained it, then drove the truck through. He stopped the truck, went back and closed it exactly how he’d found it, fighting the wind the entire time.
When he got back into the truck, he was more exhausted than before, but the rest of the drive should be easier.
Still, when he crossed into Verdacorp territory, he felt the instant pressure in his chest, anger and tension that he knew wasn’t good, but he couldn’t help it.
Verdacorp had spread its tentacles throughout the valley after their success in the panhandle that made wealthy Mitchell Robinson even richer. Technically, the road wasn’t theirs, it was a county road that went through their property, but Jake still didn’t like being down here.
It was getting darker by the minute. He hadn’t seen the sun all day, but the storm clouds had smothered the light, and there wouldn’t be a visible sunset. The headlights barely cut into the gloom. Reflectors mounted on fence posts shimmered in the mist like eyes watching from the brush. The road looked wider than it was, but Jake knew better—one wrong turn and they’d be in the water-filled ditch.
