“So, you want me to go find out?”
“That’s about it. Miles needs to know before the three o’clock meeting. It’s very important for him to know Sheriff Hodges’ mental state right now.”
“So, Miles knows?” Her tone told him how her question had more than the obvious meaning.
“Yes,” he responded. He paused before look into her eyes, his own narrowing, “I’m pretty sure he does.”
Her eyes glistened and she blinked back tears. “That’s too bad. I never wanted that.”
Cooper just looked at her. Something in her eyes weighed on him.
She looked again at the ground and lit another cigarette. Her feet shuffled and she folded her arms. “Why’s it all so complicated?”
“I’m not here to judge you,” Cooper said, hoping to stifle the conversation. They stood in silence for a long while. What was bothering him finally hit him. This is what a lost soul looks like. She’s lost, involved in an affair during the apocalypse. He shook his head, weighing what that must be like.
“So, will you do it?”
She looked up at him with sad, weary eyes. Cooper understood her reluctance. Saying yes will peel back one of the last veils of deniability between her and Miles. Cooper guessed that eventually those layers would get so thin that they would have to face it.
“Yes, of course I’ll do it,” she finally said, forced firmness lacing her words. “Tell Miles I’ll be back soon, will you?”
He nodded, “Sure. And, thank you. I know this isn’t easy.”
She laughed, exhaling nervous tension, “You can say that again!” She blew out the last puff of smoke, crushed the butt under her heel, and walked off. Cooper watched her walk away. The way her shoulders drooped and how her steps plodded, he could see she carried a heavy load.
“So, she gonna do it?” Mile’s words dripped with heavy meaning.
“Yeah. She said she would find out for us.” Cooper answered, not knowing how he’d react.
Miles squinted. His eyes drifted to the tree line, and he fixated there for several seconds. “At least some good may come of it all.” His words hung in the air, unanswered for a long moment, then he turned and walked away.
When he was safely out of earshot, Dranko spoke up, “I feel for him. He has a heavy load to carry.”
Cooper nodded. Suddenly, he felt wearied by the events of the morning. “I’m going to try and catch some sleep. Can you keep an eye on Jake for me?”
“Sure. The seats in the Jeep are pretty comfortable.”
Cooper smiled, “Nice to hear your optimistic side. Wake me when Bethany gets back, alright?”
Dranko grinned and nodded. Cooper walked off and found the Jeep. Within minutes, he was asleep.
Knuckles rapping on glass startled him awake. His body jerked and a hand went to the pistol laying in its holster on the seat next to him. He wrenched his neck, finding the source of the noise.
Jake’s smiling face was perched in the door window’s frame, “Wake up Sleeping Beauty! Bethany’s back.”
Adrenaline shot through Cooper and he was instantly awake and searching for the door’s handle. He snaked the belt holding the holster on as he slid out of the Jeep. He buckled it as Jake led him to where Bethany must have been waiting to be debriefed.
He found Dranko, Bethany, and Miles standing in a semi-circle filled with awkward silence. Bethany and Miles assiduously avoided eye contact with one another. Dranko stood between the two of them, arms folded.
“We wanted to wait for you, brother,” he said as Cooper walked up.
“Great, what’d we learn?” He fixed his eyes on her.
Her eyes drifted up to his, “Junior is wounded. But, badly.”
“Good. Bastard deserves it,” Miles interrupted vehemently. He’s trying to bait her.
Bethany gritted her teeth, “They expect him to survive, but he might lose an arm.”
“Anything else?” Dranko asked.
“I couldn’t get a word in with the Sheriff. But, there are already notices up around town recruiting new ‘deputies’ to join him and…”
“Whew, he doesn’t waste time, does he?” Miles interrupted again.
“Well, this is good news, all told,” Cooper said.
“How so?” Miles asked.
“His son is alive, so he shouldn’t be crazy-mad. And, the wounding might be good in the sense that Hodges knows there’s a cost to be paid by a war. It should put him in the mind to negotiate.”
The trio surrounding him nodded in agreement.
“So, our plan at three remains what we discussed,” Miles asked.
“Yup.” Cooper said.
The caravan of three vehicles meandered down the highway toward Estacada. The lack of haste was reflective of their collective apprehension. In the lead vehicle, Miles and the two men he had hand selected to attend the meeting with him set the pace. Dranko, Cooper, and two other men were in Dranko’s Jeep. Bringing up the rear was a minivan filled with six men. The plan was for the last two vehicles to listen in on the meeting via walkie talkie. If anything went wrong, they were to come rushing in. The men were all fully armed, rifles or shotgun in hand and a pistol, or more, strapped to their sides.
Cooper had become adept at smelling the fear of those around him. The Jeep was filled with that faint, familiar odor once more. He fell into his comforting habit of checking the action of the weapon in hand. He racked the bolt on the FAL repeatedly until Dranko told him to knock it off. Then, he shifted to checking the action on his pistol. Dranko exhaled in exasperation. The men in the backseat were similarly preoccupied with their own pre-combat rituals. One was lost, deep in prayer. The other was quietly repeating to himself the various tactical situations they had reviewed as a group before leaving. Dranko was tense.
“Will you shut it? You sound like Rainman getting ready to storm the beaches of Normandy,” Dranko exploded at the whispering man.
The man startled, gave a sheepish look to Dranko, and fell silent.
“Thank you!” Dranko muttered in frustrated appreciation.
Cooper stopped his own fidgeting with conscious effort. He looked out the window and saw the trees whipping past at a steady forty miles per hour. The sky was clouded and the light fighting its way down was dull and gray. Cooper’s mind drifted to a day much like this one when Elena had been driving up to a wedding being held up at Government Camp. He remembered how her hair had shined even in that dull light and how…
He was interrupted by the whispering man resuming his mumbling tactical cant. Cooper looked at Dranko, who was rolling his eyes. Cooper couldn’t restrain the smile from breaking across his face. Dranko saw this, raised his hand, and flipped him a long and steady bird. In response, he shrugged his shoulders in the classic ‘what did I do’ way.
Thankfully, Dranko made the last turn and they were moments away from their destination.
“Alright, boys, look sharp,” Dranko said as he cranked the wheel, turning the Jeep at the light.
“Sure thing, Sarge,” the praying man remarked, doing his best to imitate a New Yorker’s accent.
“Hey, those introductions flew fast and furious back there and I know my mind was much more focused on our planning. But, if we gotta charge in there, guns blazing, it’d be good to know each other’s names. I’m CJ.”
“I was thinking the same thing, but I was too embarrassed to say anything! I’m Michael,” the praying man said. “Like the Archangel!”
“Yeah, I’m Rusty,” the whispering man said.
A long silence passed as Dranko sat silent. I guess he’s mad about something.
“Our esteemed chauffeur to this confab is Dranko. His Christian name is Paul, but he’s so surly that it’s best to call him by his last name. Otherwise, you risk charming him out of his sour attitude,” Cooper offered, a wry grin crossing his face and imbuing his words.