The Flock by James Robert Smith

Author:James Robert Smith
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Macmillan
Published: 2010-11-08T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Four

This time, Ron did not have to wait in silence and frustration outside the gates of Holcomb’s compound. As he and Mary arrived, the gates were opening to allow a pair of ATVs to leave. One of the small, yellow six-wheelers carried two passengers and Holcomb was alone on the other. Each pulled an even smaller trailer filled with closed nylon bags packed full of supplies and equipment of unknown variety. In the action and noise, Kate had tried to yell a request at Ron. It had been Mary who had understood and had retrieved a backpack from the tailgate of one of Holcomb’s pickup trucks. Mary took a look at it, ran her hands across the fabric, and then handed it over to Kate who grabbed it without so much as a glance at Mary before rushing it over to the ATV being piloted by Vance Holcomb. Despite the fact that these people were moving about in full daylight, Ron was curious about their intentions, and was suspicious.

“Nice pack he’s taking. Wonder where the hell they’re going,” Mary said to Ron as he pulled to the right to allow the squat vehicles to pass by them.

“Well, whatever it is they’re doing, they’re not paying us any attention. Look at ’em go.”

In fact the ATVs were heading out at some speed and soon left the narrow road on which Ron and Mary had arrived, quickly vanishing into the forest. Both watched the trees swallow up the bright yellow vehicles. When they turned their attention back to the compound, Kwitney was standing at the entrance, appearing out of the clouds of sand and dust the all terrain vehicles had left in their wakes.

“That’s Kate, eh,” Mary said. “Can’t be too many women around that damned tall.” Or, unfortunately, that good looking, she thought. Despite her better judgment, she felt jealousy welling up.

“Oh, that’s her, for sure. One of a kind, I assume.” Ron walked away from his truck without another word and walked toward her. Just behind her was the Seminole she had pointed out to Ron the first time he’d been there. Billy, his name was. Riggs didn’t know the man’s last name, and again he felt the twinge of guilt he often got for knowing so little about that side of his heritage.

Before he had halved the thirty feet between them, Kate spoke. “You go straight to the cops?” There was a hard look in her eyes. Again, Ron was a bit disturbed at his inability to read her, but that was also part of the fascination he had for her.

“Well…no.” He could see surprise flash for a second upon her face. “But that’s what we’re doing here unannounced.” Ron indicated Mary, who was coming up behind him. “This is Mary Niccols. She’s the trapper we refer for business.”

“I’ve seen her work in the papers,” Kate said, her voice flat and unemotional. “Thanks for grabbing Vance’s pack for me.”

“S’okay,” Mary said.

By then, Ron was next to Kate, could smell her: a scent of soap and a mild perfume, and a bit of sweat.

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