Read Don't Kill The Messenger Online

Authors: Joel Pierson

Don't Kill The Messenger (21 page)

BOOK: Don't Kill The Messenger
6.05Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Words are funny things. Sometimes they have a will of their own, and despite everything reasonable and sensible in you that knows not to say them, you open your mouth, and damned if they don’t just tumble out.
I love her.
Such little words, so seemingly harmless. I look around after those words tumble. Two of the cops look as if they find it terribly sweet. Rebecca wears a look of astonishment. And Calvin Traeger sustains the same impenetrable calm he’s held since the moment we arrived.

“You love her,” he says, taking a step or two toward me, “is that what you said? You’re telling me that you love my twenty-one-year-old daughter who you met four days ago.”

And in an instant, calm turns to rage. Without a hint of warning, Calvin Traeger breaks into a run, with fires of hatred burning in his eyes. I watch in amazement as he grabs a gun from one of the officers and stops inches in front of me, the gun primed and pointed right at my face.

Trying to maintain bladder control, I wait for the expected words from any of the assembled law enforcement officers—
Put the gun down
or
Don’t do it, Mr. Traeger
or even
Let’s be reasonable about this.
But they are clearly paid quite well, and not one of them makes a sound or a move in my defense.

Rebecca alone sounds the alarm. “Daddy, no!”

“Well, you listen to me,” he growls at me through clenched teeth. “You don’t love my daughter. I do.”

“Love is a strong word,” I say, trying to back-pedal. “I mean it in the sense of … of … respect and admiration. In a brotherly way, you might say. Certainly not in a way that … that … suggests anything inappropriate.”

“I’d better not find out that there was anything inappropriate, because if there was, you know where the first shot will go.”

To my astonishment, Rebecca dashes over and stands between her father and me. She grabs the hand that holds the pistol and places the gun to her own head. “There,” she says, “you want to play with guns? You want to shoot someone today? Go for it, Daddy. Shoot your little whore of a daughter.”

“What are you doing?” I whisper to her.

“Saving your life,” she whispers back. “What were
you
doing?”

“Disregarding what turned out to be a very wise deer.”

“What?”

“I’ll tell you later. For now, get yourself out of here. I’m not worth risking your life over.”

“Listen to him, Rebecca,” Traeger says, making me wonder why we were whispering in the first place, with him only inches away.

“No, Daddy, you listen to me. This has gone far enough. I asked Tristan to drive me here because I thought I needed to go back to college. Then I found out that you were just using him to trick me into coming here to help you. I could’ve turned around right then and there, never even showed up here. But when I learned that people out there might be trying to find you and hurt you, I came here to warn you. Because no matter what’s happened between us in the past, you’re my father and I love you. And yet, here we are, and the fact that you still haven’t put that gun down, even with me at the end of it, scares the hell out of me. Is this what you’ve become since I’ve been away? Someone so desperate for money that human life—the life of your own daughter—doesn’t matter to you anymore?”

He doesn’t answer, so she raises her voice to address the off-duty cops assembled here. “And you … his so-called security force. In case you haven’t noticed, this man is holding a gun on two unarmed, innocent people just because one of them said he loves the other. If it’s not too much trouble, I’d appreciate it if one of you could do something about that.”

The officer whose gun was taken steps calmly over to Calvin Traeger and retrieves his firearm without a word. Relieved to be out of that moment, I take two steps back, inviting Rebecca with me through a gentle touch on her arm. She steps back as well, and we look at her father.

“I’m leaving, Dad, and I’m not coming back. You could have done this right. You could have let me go back to school on my terms and then asked me to help you with your business in my spare time. But instead you went for trickery and coercion and guns, and because of that, you get nothing.”

I’m proud of her determination as she turns away from him. An awkward silence hangs over everyone, so I decide to fill it with awkward words instead. “So, yeah. I would say ‘nice to meet you,’ but given the circumstances, I’ll just leave it at ‘we’ll be on our way now.’”

Before Traeger can answer, Rebecca says to me, “No, we won’t.”

“What?”

“I asked you to drive me to Ohio so I could go back to school, and you did. Now that I’m here, I realize that this is what I need to do. I don’t need my father’s support or the approval of some board of directors. I’ve got the grades to get back in and the tuition money to pay for it, no matter where that money came from. Being with you this week showed me that I’m ready for this, and for that I’ll always be grateful to you, Tristan.” She puts her arms around me; what she’s just said is so surprising, I almost forget to return the embrace.

“You’re welcome,” I reply, trying desperately to find any words to change her mind.

“Would you mind taking me to a friend’s house not far from here? I need a place to stay for a while until I can get settled on campus.”

“Umm … sure. Let’s go.”

As I walk with her down the driveway, back to the convertible, I feel almost dazed. I knew that I could lose her to her father today, but the possibility that she would reject him and then reject me as well never occurred to me, and it’s making my head throb with pain, a pain that travels down my neck and into my shoulders, and then into—

Oh God, no … not this, not now—

But it’s too late to stop it. The pain intensifies, like lightning traveling all through my body. And with it comes information, an assignment. I drop to my knees, crying out in pain, and then end up on my back, with my hands clutching my head. The urgency of this is overwhelming, like nothing I’ve ever felt before.

Through cloudy eyes, I see confusion all around me. The cops have backed off, probably wondering what’s happening. I see Rebecca turn back to me, hear her call out my name, and then see her run to me. As she kneels down to hold on to me, I hear her father asking, “What the hell’s wrong with him?”

“It’s an assignment,” she tells him, still holding me. “A mission. This is what happens to him when the information comes in.”

I’m sure I am quite a spectacle to the seven men in that driveway, but I can’t care. I’m focused on the details I’m receiving, and the feeling of Rebecca resting my head in her lap as she holds my hands and tries to keep me calm.

As more and more of the facts come in, I realize that I am starting to cry and words are coming out of my mouth. “No … no, I can’t … not like this. It’s too much. It’s too much.”

Through my tears, I look up at Rebecca, whose expression shows concern and uncertainty. The worst of the pain leaves me, and now I have the knowledge of what I have to do.

“Tristan,” she says quietly, “what is it? What did it say?”

As I relate it to her, I can scarcely believe the magnitude of it myself. My throat is constricted, making my words come out barely loud enough for Rebecca to hear. “Cedarsburg, Kansas. There’s 11,000 people who live there. In two days, a tornado will go through the center of town, tearing up everything it touches.”

“Who’s your contact?” she asks me. “Who do you have to save?”

There is sheer terror all over my face as I give her my one-word answer: “Everybody.”

“Oh my God,” she says, obviously understanding the enormity of this mission as well as I. Then, to my surprise, she helps me to a seated position and kneels next to me, saying, “Okay, we’ll have to use the airlines to get there; driving’s too risky, especially if there are tornadoes in the area. And some advance phone calls to the local police and fire departments will aid them in notifying residents. I don’t know if we can convince them to do a full evacuation, but at least they’ll be forewarned.”

I look at her in amazement as she presents this plan. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying the clock is ticking, mister, and 11,000 people are counting on you. Now, I actually have a friend who’s a storm chaser at the University of Kansas. I can give him a call; he’ll be a big help …”

Now I’m truly confused. “But … college?”

“One more assignment. This is a huge job, and you can’t do it alone. College will still be there when we get done.”

She rises and helps me to my feet.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Traeger asks her. “I forbid you to go with him.”

“Oh, we’re
way
past forbidding, Dad. This man needs me, and I want to be with him.”

“If you walk out of here now, don’t plan on coming back.”

“Can’t think of a reason why I’d want to.”

“Make no mistake, Rebecca: if I need your help in the future, I will find you.”

“Thanks for the heads-up. Have fun finding your oil, and watch your back while you’re at it. You’ve pissed off some really determined fishermen.” She takes me by the hand. “Are you okay to walk?”

“I think so,” I reply, still confused. “What just happened here?”

“I’ve essentially just told my father to go fuck himself, and he hasn’t killed either one of us, so I’m calling that a success. Now we’re going back to the car before he changes his mind, and we’re going to go someplace and strategize about how to save those 11,000 people.”

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

“What,” Rebecca says, “you think I’m going to let you have all the fun?”

BOOK: Don't Kill The Messenger
6.05Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Instant Family by Elisabeth Rose
Hay unos tipos abajo by Antonio Dal Masetto
Deus Ex - Icarus Effect by James Swallow
Deadly Harvest by Heather Graham
Roses and Chains by Delphine Dryden
The Filter Trap by Lorentz, A. L.
Cook's Night Out by Joanne Pence
Hand of Fate by Lis Wiehl