The Forsaken

A few months ago, Qui

The temperature had dropped down to ten degrees, and Qui

They followed the path nearly two klicks before turning off the road and finding the vantage point Qui

Qui

“Te

“Joh

“Who’s he working with?”

“Don’t know.”

“You go

“When I can find someone to trust,” Qui

“That was your own damn fault,” Boom whispered, handing back the binoculars. “You screwing one of their goddamn agents. Woman was mad as hell when you kept stuff back from her.”

“I’ve made a few mistakes in my life.”

“Shit, Qui

“Lesson learned.”

“What else you need?” Boom said. “Ain’t no reason for that motherfucker to have this set up without moving drugs or guns or pussy, right?”

“Not sure what he’s moving,” Qui

“Men got to fly to get their peckers pulled?” Boom said. “That’s some hard-up shit.”

There was some motion by one of the Quonset huts and Qui

“Never knew Joh

“He’s got black girls working the pole at the Booby Trap.”

“Good man,” Boom said. “Progressive as hell.”

“Those boys don’t look like politicians,” Qui

“Nope.”

“I’ll run their tag,” Qui

“Never knew you racist,” Boom said. “Driving while black.”

“Guilt by association.”

“You want to get down closer?” Boom said. “I don’t give a fuck. Let Stagg’s boys come on out and say hello.”

The SUV finally knocked into gear and made a U-turn away from the huts and back down the road to the exit of Stagg’s compound. Qui

The hut was windowless, the front door shut against the cold. The big metal building vibrating to the sound of rap music playing inside. Qui

“His property,” Qui

“Got his black friends coming down from Memphis,” Boom said. “How you like to see Joh

Qui

“Ten degrees,” Boom said. “Must be hot up in there.”

Qui

He had on dark utility pants and boots, an Army-green fleece jacket, and a green watch cap over his bald head. He looked to the airfield and checked his watch and moved out of the light and into the darkness by the airfield. He had a weapon in his right hand. As Qui

Qui

Ringold walked out onto the airfield, looked to the north, the small blue lights stretching out far into the distance. He was a shadow, machine gun in his right hand, as he moved back to the Quonset hut, still pumping with rap music, and shut the door.

“Feds probably don’t give a shit about Stagg ru

“Those boys didn’t come all the way from Te

“Wonder who’s doing the buying and who’s doing the selling?” Boom said.

Diane got up early the next morning, earlier than usual, to run by the Sonic and get a Breakfast Burrito for her mother. Her mother lived in an assisted-care facility just down the road from county hospital. Her memory had gotten worse and worse, a radio frequency that would sometimes come in strong and clear and other times faint and distant. That morning, the signal was medium, her mother needing a little prodding when Diane walked in. There was a big warm smile from the wheelchair, her mother sitting crooked in a flowered housecoat, looking out the window, but there was that hesitation of recognition. “Mom, it’s me. Diane.”