Bobby Cole - The dummy line

“Is Elizabeth OK?” R.C. yelled.

“Yes!”

“Who are you?” R.C. turned to Jake.

“I’m Jake Crosby. I’m…I’m in a huntin’ club back that direction, somewhere. Bogue Chitto. This is my daughter, Katy. You won’t believe what we’ve been through tonight.”

R.C. began connecting the dots. He holstered his weapon, then walked closer.

“And who are you?” Katy asked bluntly before R.C. could ask another question.

R.C. smiled. “R.C. Smithson, young lady. I’m a deputy sheriff.”

“R.C.? Well, what took you so long to get here?” Katy exclaimed with a very serious look, catching R.C. off guard.

“I thought y’all were part of that gang of rednecks tryin’ to kill us,” Jake explained to the deputy, as Elizabeth, with Tillman’s help, walked up.

“You scared the shit outta me when you took off runnin’…Oh…uh…excuse me, Miss Katy,” R.C. said.

“That’s OK. My dad’s said that a bunch tonight,” Katy said brightly.

“I bet he did.” R.C. smiled at Jake.

“Mr. Tillman, these are the people I was tellin’ you about-they saved my life,” Elizabeth explained as they approached Jake, Katy, and the deputy. She was giddy with relief, thinking she was out of danger.

Steve Tillman shook Jake’s hand. “Pleased to meet you. I’m Steve Tillman. I don’t know what all y’all have been through tonight, but thank you so much for taking care of her.”

“Jake Crosby. This is my daughter, Katy,” Jake said, beginning to get choked up.

“Mr. Tillman said Tanner’s in the hospital and is stable…which means he’s going to be all right!” Elizabeth said joyously.

“That’s great news,” Jake responded, slowly looking at everyone. He couldn’t believe what he had done tonight. “I almost killed one of y’all,” he said reflectively to R.C. and Steve Tillman.

“Yeah, that was close,” R.C. replied stoically, eyeing the modified shotgun. “We saw some of your handiwork back there.” R.C. then looked at Jake in the flashlight beam.

Jake replied simply, “He deserved it,” with no hint of contrition. “And there’s still one more out here somewhere. A great big fat guy.”

“I think he’s left the area. I’m dying to know all the details, but we really need to get y’all outta here,” R.C. said, noticing Elizabeth’s swollen ankle. Then, looking at Jake, he continued. “And get y’all cleaned up. The sheriff will have tons of questions.”

There was so much to say, but Jake knew the deputy was right. They needed to get to safety. Jake couldn’t relax fully until they were out of these woods.

“My truck’s miles back that way,” Jake said, pointing northwest.

“Our Jeep’s a good two miles that way, so I think we walk out to the highway and hitch a ride to town,” R.C. said to the group. He noticed Steve Tillman giving Elizabeth his jacket. He looked at Jake slowly getting up, covered in mud and sweat, then with a laugh said to Jake, “I’d give you mine, but I’m probably wetter than you right now. When you first took off running, you scared me so bad, I fell in the creek face-first!”

“That’s OK. Why don’t you carry the shotgun. I’ll carry Katy Bug here-been doing it all night anyway,” he said affectionately.

Jake watched Tillman pick up Elizabeth. He turned to pick up Katy. They followed R.C.’s big flashlight beam toward the highway.

“My mom’s gonna kill my dad when we get home!” Katy exclaimed.

Everyone laughed. Even Jake mustered an exhausted smile.

“Don’t you have a radio?” Jake asked R.C.

“It’s a long story; the Jeep crushed it,” R.C. said sheepishly. “It’s gonna be a tough one to explain.”

Before Jake knew it, they were crawling up the steep side of the highway. When Jake got up on the road, R.C. was already looking back and forth to see if any vehicles were coming. They all huddled in the middle of the road. Steve Tillman returned the pistol to R.C. when no one was looking.

After a few minutes they could see headlights approaching. R.C. started flashing his light and waving his arms. The vehicle came to a stop a hundred yards away. Its lights switched to high beam. After ten seconds, the vehicle slowly backed up, turned around, and drove off at a high rate of speed.

“That was weird. Whoever’s driving that SUV acted scared of us,” R.C. stated.

“Well, yeah, take a closer look,” Tillman said, laughing.

“Right, I might pick them up,” R.C. said, pointing at the girls, “but I definitely wouldn’t pick up old Jake there…not on a bet.”

Everyone laughed.

“I wouldn’t pick me up either,” Jake added, wiping some mud off his forehead.

“There are plenty folks in this part of the world that would think you were some kinda swamp haint,” R.C. added, grinning.

Eventually, another vehicle approached. An eighteen-wheeler. The giant white truck slowed down as R.C. stood in the center of the road waving his flashlight and arms, directing him to stop. The truck driver was obviously nervous. He stared in disbelief at the group standing in his headlights’ beam. Jake smiled and shook his head when he saw it was a Walmart truck. They’re everywhere, he thought.

Shining his light on his uniform, R.C. said, “Sir, I’m Deputy Sheriff Smithson. This is an emergency. We need a ride to Livingston.”

The truck driver looked at everyone, then back at R.C.’s badge, and said, “Sure, Officer…y’all jump in.”

“Thank you, sir. Just drop us off at the hospital. I’ll show you where it is,” R.C. said.

“Are you folks OK?” the truck driver asked, watching the mixed group crawl up into his truck. “Just crawl in the back, sweetheart,” he said to Katy.

“It’s been a long night,” Jake answered back. “Can we all get in here?” he asked as he climbed up.

“Sure-cram in,” R.C. replied as he shook hands with the truck driver. “We really appreciate the lift.”

“No problem…I was just a little shocked. I thought y’all were hijackers.”

Jake, Katy, and R.C. climbed into the sleeper. Tillman and Elizabeth shared the front seat. Katy was excited to be in a big truck.

“I’m definitely adding Walmart stock to my Buy List,” Jake said aloud to no one in particular.

The driver was old school. He couldn’t have been nicer. He never asked a question, he simply kept his mouth shut. He spent only brief moments looking inquisitively at his passengers.

“I buy all my stuff at Walmart,” R.C. added, trying to make conversation. “Whatcha hauling?”

“Televisions,” the driver answered politely.

“Hey, do you have a cell phone?” R.C. asked.

“Yeah, sure,” he said, handing it to R.C. It was red, white, and blue.

“No service,” R.C. reported.

“Tell me about it. This area needs another tower real bad,” Jake replied.

“When we get closer to Livingston, we’ll have service,” R.C. explained. Then, looking at Jake, he said, “I can’t wait to hear your story.”

“Shit! Shit! Shit!” Moon Pie screamed, pounding on the steering wheel. He had just realized that the shadowy figure in the middle of the highway waving a flashlight wasn’t Reese-it was a cop. This is bad. Really bad.

“I gotta get the hell outta here!” he said aloud. Slamming the Tahoe into reverse, he whipped around and burned rubber heading north. His mind raced as he tried unsuccessfully to reach Reese. Moon Pie hated to breach the buddy code and leave Reese in limbo, but he sensed this place was about to be crawling with cops, and they were going to be looking for the whole crew. It’s just dumb luck that I got away from Deputy Dawg back in Livingston. They got my name, my tag number, and they’re probably gonna waitin’ for my stupid ass when I pull up to my crib. Dammit!