FOLLOW THE LEADER - Chapter 68

 Chapter 68

I came to inside a tent. The right side of my head ached like hell, but when I tried to touch it, I couldn’t.  My hands were tied behind my back. I could see that it was dark outside, but I had no idea what time it was. How long have I been out? 

Lying on my side, I turned my head and saw two cots. The bedding was folded neatly at the foot of each bed, like one would find in a military barracks. If the gear in front of the tents indicated they were pulling out, why weren’t the tents folded and ready to go?  Not to mention the bedding. Through the pain and fog inside my head an inescapable conclusion bubbled up: Powers knew he had run out of time. He figured that the feds were about to close in.  No time to stow the big items inside the Rover or the black van. They were ready to move out on his command. I remembered that a girl had escaped. I could not remember her name. The heat was on big-time now.  

The tent flap opened and Sheena stepped inside. She wore her black Manson T shirt and torn jeans.

“Look who’s awake,” she said.

“I liked you better with the blonde wig.” 

“You would,” she said.

I faked a chuckle.

“Queen of the Jungle. Awesome.What’s your birth name, if you don’t mind my asking.”

“I mind.”

“Okay,” he said as agreeably as he could. “Just curious.”

“Now I get to ask you a question: What the fuck are you doing, spying on our camp? And don’t tell me you’re a cop or a fed because we know you’re not. You’re a PI without a license.”

Stall!

“What was the question again?”

“What are you doing here?”

“I’ve working on a cold case in Death Valley.”

“And what happened there?”

“I don’t know for sure. I think that a girl was abducted from her family and killed somewhere else.”

She snorted. 

“The Rollins bitch.”

Thank God her father did not hear that. I curbed my anger and said, “That’s right. We believe you were the girl she went to see before the big storm hit.”

“That was my all-time favorite kill.”

I felt my face flush with anger again and took a deep breath.

“ What made it so special?” I asked.

“She thought she was hot shit from the moment she arrived. She’d scored some fine coke from somewhere, but she got all uppity when Jason told her she’d have to share it. That should have been his first clue. Me, I knew from the first what she was and told him.  He didn’t listen. He had the hots for her, of course. Bottom line, she got to stay with him in the cabin. Me and Peewee wanted to scalp her.”

“What changed his mind?” I asked.

“One day she said she was sick and tired of kowtowing to Jason. She was gonna call her old man to come get her. That was it. Bitch.”

I could see she was still reveling in slitting Katherine’s throat.

“What about the Indian?”

“She’s Mex. And you ask too many questions.”

“Has she killed anyone?”

She left abruptly, leaving me with a slew of questions.

Nothing happened for what seemed like ten minutes. 

I heard faint scuffling sounds: footsteps.

Jason Powers slipped into the tent. I was struck again by how short he was and how quietly he had entered. The moccasins helped. I was sure that he compared himself to a stealthy brave. All he needed was a feather in his headband.

He said, “When you were boxing you went by ‘Frank.’ Why did you switch to ‘Francis?’”

I felt like a student called in to see the principal. My brain froze.

He asked about your name change—say something!

“It’s not so common,” I said.

“Right.”

He came over and knelt by me.

“Peewee wants to chop off your head and put it on a stick as a warning to feds and cops.”

“Has Peewee read Lord of the Flies?”

“That’s where she got the idea. ‘Pig on a Stick.’ Remember?” 

“I read the book. But I doubt that you came in here to discuss visionary novels.”

He laughed.

 “I’d like to propose something,” I said.

“Make it fast, I’ve got things to do.”

Like ordering my execution.

“It took them a while, but the feds have figured out where your camp is.”

“And?”

“They’re bound to strike soon. I can slow them down if you cut me loose. All I need is a phone.”

“Your phone won’t work here. Why would they listen to you? You’re not in The Company or the Bureau.”

“They know me.”

“Why would you help us?” he asked.

“To save my skin.”

“Or in your case, your head. The thing is, they could trace your call. So no, you can’t call them.”

So they do have signal.

He started off.

“Wait!”

He stopped.

“You need to know something.”

“Spill it. I’m in a hurry.”

 “There’s a part of me that admires what you’re doing. You and your bunch are ridding the world of skanks and hookers, and that’s a good thing. You could use a man like me to scout for trouble. I’m a paid informer. I work hand in hand with the feds and the blue suits, which means I can anticipate what they’re up to.  They’re not as smart as me. It’s not even close. So there’s that. I also find people. I could have found that missing girl by now and brought her back.” 

“But would you kill her if I asked you to?”

“That’s a bit extreme.”

“Is it? The way I heard it, you beat a cop to death with your fists.”

I started to defend myself but held back. 

“Yeah, I’d waste her.” I shrugged my shoulders.

“For us, killing is a blood ritual,” said Powers. “I don’t think you’ve got the guts.”

“Try me.”

“No time for that,” he said and slunk through the flap.

And no time to discuss philosophy or just debate, as the Jesuits had taught me. I was out of time.

 “Do it outside the tent,” I heard.

 He was probably speaking to Sheena or Peewee. Either way, it didn’t matter.

I struggled mightily to wriggle my hands free, but the plastic tie did not budge.