“No,” he admitted. “I don’t.”
“It’s fuckin’ beautiful,” Andre assured him, then turned quickly to Sally and said, “I apologize for the language, Sally.”
She only smiled back at him. He was making himself sound like a lunatic.
“What’s beautiful?” Grant asked, speaking up for the first time.
A flash of recognition came over Andre’s face and then he said, “Hey, you’re that dude who makes furniture, ain’tcha?”
Grant nodded.
“We need to talk,” Andre said. “Might be some good business we can go into together.”
“Tell us about the farm,” Hal interrupted, trying to bring the man back to the present. They didn’t have time to chat about business.
“Ladybugs,” Andre said.
“Ladybugs?” Hal asked.
“Ladybugs?” Sally and Grant both said at the same time.
Hal did recall Andre mentioning something about ladybugs and organic farming.
“Ladybugs,” Andre repeated. “Those vicious little bastards are gonna help us.”
If Hal were a balloon, Andre had just stuck the pin in that would deflate him. All his hopes went right out the window. The excitement, that anxious, nervous energy Andre had that was driving him onward toward their destination was all based on pretty insects kids played with. He glanced into the bed of the truck and thought about these teenagers hoping the adults they’d stumbled upon would save the day.
And he’s got fuckin’ ladybugs.
“You… you were coming from the school?” Hal asked, trying to take the conversation as far away from insects as possible.
Andre nodded. “I was hiding out at my farm when I got the idea, but then I remembered what I’d heard about a school conference or something like that taking place out at Stonewall. Couldn’t leave these kids to fend for themselves.”
Hal admired Andre’s bravery. They’d had the same thought. Someone had to save the kids.
“I was too late though,” Andre went on. “The place was infested. Only these kids in my truck survived.”
“My God,” Hal replied.
“How many kids were there?” Sally asked.
“A lot,” Hal answered. He’d seen so many of them when he’d visited the campus. “A whole lot.”
Hal closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the seat. They were too late. How many kids had been at Stonewall Forge? Hundreds? Again, he thought about his daughter. Sweet Susanna. She would have grown to be one of the smart kids. She would have been a leader. She might have been at Stonewall Forge when all this started. He wouldn’t have been able to save her any more than he’d been able to save the others.
Get out of your head. Focus on saving the ones you can save now.
Would he be able to save them? With a plan like ladybugs, he wasn’t sure. He wished it were some kind of code word like in all the 007 movies. Goldeneye… Octopussy… Ladybugs. He doubted Andre was hiding a bomb in a shed though.
When they pulled off the dirt road and onto the main highway, Andre said, “We’re almost there. Only gotta go up the mountain a couple of miles. They still behind me?”
Hal slid open the window to the back of the truck. “They still hunting us?”
“It’s hard to see,” Nitsy said as she leaned forward and peered into the darkness behind them. The cloud of dust enveloped the truck like a thick blanket.
“I need them to be followin’ me,” Andre said.
He stopped the truck completely.
“Maybe that ain’t a good idea,” Grant said. “You know, stoppin’ the truck like that.”
“They need to catch up to us,” Andre replied.
Grant shook his head. “Yeah, but damn. We don’t want ‘em jumpin’ into the truck.”
“See anything?” Hal asked Nitsy.
Nitsy shook her head. A few feet beyond the tailgate, the dust dissipated, and a mountain lion shot through the remaining dirt. Its front paws landed on the tailgate. Its large teeth were razor-sharp, and its bloodshot eyes were wild with rage. It was halfway into the bed of the truck when Nitsy screamed and Andre stepped on the gas.
The truck leaped forward, and Andre turned right onto the highway. The force yanked the mountain lion to the side. It slid along the tailgate, scrambling to find purchase, and crying out in a banshee-like wail.
Thomas pointed his pistol at the big cat and pulled the trigger just as Andre put his foot on the gas again. The truck bucked, Thomas rocked, and the bullet flew into the beast’s ear. It screamed in pain, but it didn’t let go of the truck. Its fur shifted and Hal’s eyes went wide. He knew what that meant.
“Shoot it, kid!” Hal yelled. “Shoot it before it’s too late.”
Thomas took aim again and pulled the trigger. The slug slammed right into the cat’s forehead. This time it went down. Hal looked in the side mirror to see its body bounce off the street. It was only on the ground a second or two when the remaining horde of animals trampled it and kept coming.
Andre continued his back and forth pace all the way up the mountain. Hal’d been all over Clydesville, but he’d never been up this mountain. He hadn’t even known there was a road up this way. The bushes were thick, the road was rough, and he figured that was exactly what Andre liked about it. The more unforgiving the terrain, the less likely cops would choose to travel that way.
Before long, they came to a dead end, and there in front of them was a tall, white, square building with an antenna on top. It looked like it might’ve once been a radio station.
“What the hell is this?” Hal asked.
“I told you,” Andre replied. “It’s my farm.”
Sally scratched her head. “This don’t look like a farm.”
Hal had only seen one farm like this one. It was during a trip with Sheila down to Nicaragua one summer. It was before Susanna was born. Back when they loved each other dearly. Back when they found time to do things together. They’d asked a local man, a friend of the hotel owner where they were staying, to drive them around and show them around the small town. He took them to a shrimp farm. It was all indoor, and it looked a lot like Andre’s place.
“All right, hurry inside,” Hal yelled at the kids in the back of the truck.
Andre had sped up as they ascended the mountain, probably giving them a good five minutes lead time. Five minutes wasn’t much time at all.
The kids were barely out of the truck when a siren shrieked from above. Hal glanced toward the roof and saw Andre up there cranking an old-fashioned tornado siren.
“What the hell are you doin?” Hal shouted up at him. “And how’d you get up there?”
“Is he fuckin’ crazy?” Grant asked.
The kids all ran inside.
“You should see it from up here,” Andre yelled. “I can see clear to Walmart! And they’re hearin’ me all right. You should see ‘em go. A whole crowd of ‘em is searching for the source of this sound. They’re comin’, boy!”
In the distance was the sound of dogs barking and other random animals growling.
“You’re getting the attention of a lot of unsavory things!” Hal yelled up at him.
“What?” Andre asked.
The siren was going strong. He wasn’t going to hear him.
Andre finished cranking the siren and hopped down from the roof. The machine continued to wail.
“That oughtta blow for a little while,” Andre said.
“The fuck’s wrong with you, man?” Hal asked.
“What?”
“I said—”