For MamaBirdCat. A story challenge featuring Low Light in ten chapters.
The usual disclaimer: don't own not making a profit
The Road Goes on Forever: The Highwaymen
Chapter Eleven
The Lord Knows I'm Drinking
1600
The answer to General Hawk's opening move was driving in a white paneled RV. They didn't know PJ Knight would send up God as his first test. It was a bold move. It cut his defenses and targeted his weaknesses. He was the black knight in the game. Trevor Jack was only a rook sent out to be sacrificed. It was unexpected. The man was laying the foundation of fire and brimstone answering Hawk's challenge with a crippling cut. One of his Knights was already down. Hawk sent out his medic. PJ Knight would stop at nothing to get what he wanted. Hawk would have to rely on his white rook more than ever. Hopefully the Queen would be there to guide him. He looked at the messages. His soldiers were circling around their wounded. They weren't defeated yet. He leaned back and closed his eyes
Interstate 70 cut across Utah desert into the mountains of Colorado. It was a scenic drive. The canyon lands and national parks skirted it all the way to Grand Junction. The team left at 8 AM. They were making good time. Cover Girl was in the lead. She was driving Beachhead Trick Shot and Janack. Behind her Lifeline was with Ehrenstein and Barrel Roll. Low Light was missing. He left the night before after watching the video of American Sniper. Beachhead left Trick Shot in charge of keeping an eye on him. He wasn't listening to him. Maybe he would listen to Trick Shot.
Cover Girl looked over. "How is he?" She whispered. She didn't want Trick Shot or Janack to hear.
Beachhead shrugged. He was looking down at his phone. "Drunk." He said.
"Already?" Cover Girl choked. It was ten AM when he messaged him.
"Or still. That's the way he is." Beachhead said. He put his phone in his pocket. He exhaled and looked out the window.
Cover Girl patted him on the knee. "Hey it's going to be OK Ranger Man. You'll see." She smiled.
Beachhead shook his head. "I don't know Courtney. I give up." He said.
She looked over at him cock eyed. "You can't really believe that Wayne."
"Sometimes I do." He mumbled.
"Well you can't." Cover Girl said. She looked in the rearview where God was driving the RV. "You haven't given up before and you won't now."
The RV came closer.
"You're the only friend he has."
The convoy pulled into Grand Junction a little past four PM. It consisted of four trailers and two Hum Vees. They crossed the river on highway 70 and headed towards the train tracks. There was an Acorn Truck Stop off the road that could accommodate twenty to thirty eighteen-wheelers. It was the size of a mini mall. It had a McDonald's and a diner on the inside. They sold everything from high end electronics to post cards. There was a jack-a-lope pinned to the wall. The sticker said 19.99. There were some truckers enjoying steak and eggs and shit on a shingle while their rigs fueled up. It would take the better part of an hour. They wouldn't stop until Kansas or Oklahoma. Across the street was a Motel 6 for the ones that stayed the night. At the pumps a local country station was playing.
Cover Girl pulled up to the front entrance. Lifeline was fifteen minutes behind her. They took the time to stretch their legs. Janack went to the bathroom. The two Germans were wondering why they couldn't walk around with open beer bottles. They thought the law was silly. They took pictures of the jack-a-lope with their cell phones. The Cuban woman laughed. They handed her the phone making the universal sign for picture. The two of them posed in front of it with their fingers pointed. They smiled. Trick Shot bought a bottle of Coke and water. Beachhead bought four. Two of them he handed to Cover Girl. Everyone was quiet until the sound of a too loud muscle car thumping out gangster rap pulled in. Blackout let it idle for five minutes. It was starting to piss some of the truckers off. There were low grumbles of 'turn that shit off' before he cut the engine. He got out and leaned against the door. He was waiting for Barrel Roll.
God's RV stopped at the gas station. He wouldn't make it to Cheyenne without gassing up. He tapped off his cigar at the entrance. It was an aluminum disc. It had years of worn burns and baked on ash. He put the cigar in his front pocket. He took time to pick out his next pack. It was Swisher Sweet. Behind him Mary stepped out. She had black jeans that could have been painted on they were that tight. Her leather boots went to her knees. She missed the last step. A hand grabbed her by the arm. She stepped down on heels that were at least six inches high. She had Low Light's aviator sunglasses on. Her lips were blood red. She smiled. Mary and Low Light stood next to the RV stretching in the wind. The mountain air was blowing. The sun was getting ready to set. Mary shivered and hugged her shoulders. She waved and went to the bathroom. The truckers stared. She looked rode hard and put away wet. Low Light drank orange juice. He yawned.
Inside God bought two suitcases of Budweiser and a bag of ice. There was a bottle of JD on the counter. He was standing in line. He was making small talk with the truckers. They wanted to know where he was heading and could they come along. They laughed. In return God asked them what they were hauling. They were impressed with his knowledge of big rigs. It seemed like everywhere he went people liked him. Beachhead snorted behind him. Cover Girl had to elbow him in the arm. Trick Shot stood awkwardly behind them holding a bottle of coke and water. He laughed and clapped the trucker on the back as he left. He turned around with a grin.
"Hey there look who snuck up on me. We're making pretty good time don't you think?" God said. He winked at Cover Girl. "You're a pretty good driver there corporal. With you at the head we'll make it to Cheyenne by eight. Maybe I'll even be able to get some sleep tonight. You're not planning on waking up an old man two nights in a row are you Staff?" He shook his head. "Damn but my Army days are over. These days I like to sleep in."
He pushed his items forward. He opened his bill fold. He took out a corporate credit card. It had the Knight logo in white against blue. He gave the cashier instruction to fill up at pump number nine. He pointed outside where Low Light was looking down at his phone. He kept reading the mysterious text from last night.
"Don't you think he's had enough?" Beachhead grumbled. It came out in a whispered growl.
God pressed the payment key on the credit card scanner. "Who Mac?" He said. "Who said this was for him. This is for me and Mary. What Mac does is his own business." The cashier handed him the signature slip. "In case you haven't noticed Staff Mac's a big boy now. He doesn't need you checking in on him every twelve hours to hold his hand." He said. He bent down to sign his name. "He can hold his own dick when he pisses."
He stood up and stared right at him. Beachhead never wanted to hit someone so badly in his whole life. His fist clenched and unclenched. He had to remind himself that God was a civilian now. Cover Girl held his arm.
"Wayne." She said.
God flashed a smile and gave a half salute. He left. Beachhead turned around and handed Cover Girl the water. She rolled her eyes. She turned around and handed Trick Shot the water. Trick Shot stood there with six bottles of water and a coke in his arms. He saw Beachhead stop God in the middle of a Colorado Truck Stop.
"He's had enough." He said.
"That's real nice Staff but no one appointed you Mac's personal Savior and Guardian Angel all rolled into one." God said. "He doesn't need you dipping and dunking him in the name of the Lord. Bama. I recognized the accent. That's Deep South bible country there. There's no drinking, no smoking, no fucking, no gambling but Hell let's have a revival and shoot niggers."
It was a verbal punch. Beachhead stepped back. He had to blink before it processed. Cover Girl held his arm. She was trying to jerk him away. She looked around her as if she expected someone to help. Trick Shot held two plastic bags. They said 'Have a Nice Day.' Beachhead stood his ground.
"Coming from a man with your name I'm surprised you would say that." Beachhead said. "I know your kind."
"Oh yeah and what kind is that?" God said.
"The kind I would see setting up tents on the side of the road on a Wednesday and Saturday night. They were the kind that came to town with salvation in a bottle of snake oil and moonshine. They sold their words of redemption at a hundred bucks a pop. When they left they were a hundred grand richer and the folks that paid them had a jug and a hole in their pocket. What do you want with him?" He said.
"Wayne. Wayne. Stop." Cover Girl said.
God smiled. He looked over at Cover Girl. "There's no worries corporal. The man is just looking out for his friend. That's what good friends do. It's downright admirable. But I don't want anything from him Staff. It's just two old shooters having a good time on my last hoorah." He said. He saw Trick Shot. "Enjoy it while you can kid. The years have a way of hitting you later on."
Trick Shot lifted his hand. He heard everything.
"I'll see you in Cheyenne Staff. I'll get your man there. Don't worry about Mac. I'll take care of him."
God turned around. He went back to the RV. Low Light was filling gas. He pulled a cooler off the back. He dumped the ice in. He opened the bottom end of a suitcase. He heard them thump as they slid out. He pushed them around until they were covered in ice. He handed one to Low Light. They were talking. Mary came outside. She had a new straw cowboy hat on her head. It had a feather headband. She ran up and pulled Low Light's cap off. She bit his earlobe. It tugged down. He looked surprised. She laughed and put the cowboy hat on his head. God said something to her and she went inside. Low Light grabbed the cooler and followed.
Beachhead, Cover Girl, and Trick Shot watched them go. They were still waiting on Lifeline, Ehrenstein, and Barrel Roll. Janack walked up to them.
"Dixon go put the groceries in the truck." Beachhead said.
Trick Shot opened his mouth. He went to say something. Then he nodded. "He's my friend too." He said. He went to the Hum Vee.
Beachhead sighed. "I don't know what's going on but I don't trust that guy." He said. "He has an answer to everything. I don't like it."
"There is only one reason why a woman like that is with Low Light." Janack said.
Everyone was surprised to hear her say anything about the man. She normally stayed out of it. The two night snipers maintained a professional working relationship. The competition hadn't changed that. They were co-workers on and off the field. She didn't interfere in his personal life and he stayed out of hers. It was mutual.
"She is being paid." She said.
"So what else is new?" Beachhead said.
"He would have been better off with Jill." Cover Girl said. Janack looked at her sideways. She waved her hand. "Don't ask." She said.
"It doesn't matter now. We have to get to Cheyenne first." Beachhead said. He pointed to the road. "Here comes Lifeline."
God was right about the timing though. It was past 8 PM when the caravan pulled into Cheyenne Mountain. The production team was set up. Outside soldiers were milling around. Trevor Jack spent some time shaking hands with the senior staff. God was behind him. The director was giving instruction. They would start the competition at one PM. Trick Shot met up with Low Light in the parking lot. He had his back turned. If he heard him he didn't acknowledge it. He was looking out into the dark. He had his gear on. His goggles hid his eyes. He had a bottle in his hand. Trick Shot stood next to him. After he found out about his mother and General Hawk Low Light watched him finish a quarter of a bottle before he drove him back to base and put him to bed. When Beachhead found the whiskey Low Light covered for him. Now it was his turn.
"Are you OK?" He asked. "You didn't answer your phone last night."
"Yeah I'll be fine Dixon." Low Light said.
He passed the bottle to him. Trick Shot took a swallow. It burned in his throat. It spread through his veins like an internal fire. It took the chill out of the air. He handed it back. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
"What do you want me to tell Beachhead?" Trick Shot asked.
"Hell Dixon. He already knows." He said.
In his hand a new message flashed.
2056: MACBRIDE WE SAW WHAT YOU DID
End Chapter Eleven
The Lord Knows I'm Drinking
By Cal Smith
Hello, Mrs. Johnson
You self-righteous woman
Sunday School teacher
What brings you out slumming
Do you reckon the preacher
Would approve where you are
Standing here, visiting
With a back sliding Christian
In a neighborhood bar
Well, yes, that's my bottle
And, yes, that's my glass
And I see you're eyeballing
This pretty young lass
It ain't none of your business
But, yes, she's with me
And we don't need no sermon
You self-righteous woman
Just let us be
The Lord knows I'm drinking
And running around
And He don't need your
Loud mouth informing the town
The Lord knows I'm sinning
And sinning ain't right
But me and the Good Lord's gonna
Have us a good talk later tonight