Read The Dummy Line for Free Online Page B

you take Beau?”
    “Yeah…I think I will.”
    He slowly got out of bed and got dressed. Beau, the family’s golden retriever, met him at the back door, stretching and yawning, tail wagging.

 
    “Shut up! Shut up! Just shut the hell up! Everybody just calm down!” Reese yelled as he jumped in the bed of the Ford pickup to check on Johnny Lee.
    Johnny Lee was gurgling blood, and his breathing was extremely labored. It took him several minutes just to say a few words. He was dying and he knew it. Blood ran out of his mouth with his final words: “Get him…get that son of a bitch.”
    Johnny Lee Grover, one of the most vicious, notorious thugs of western Alabama, died at age thirty-six in the arms of his first cousin.
    “Johnny Lee! Johnny…no! Johnny Lee, please! Don’t die!” Reese pleaded. He couldn’t imagine living without him. Johnny Lee had always been the center of his life.
    Tiny didn’t say a word. He was horrified. Sweat stood at attention, awaiting instructions.
    Reese stood, faced the camp, and screamed at the top of his lungs, “You’re dead! You’re a dead man! You killed him! You killed him! You son of a bitch! Do you hear me? You’re a dead man walking!” Then he grabbed anything he could get his hands on, slinging it as far as he could, screaming over and over, “You’re a dead man walking!”
    The Chevy pickup came sliding out of the camp house area and disappeared down a road, away from the gang and into the heart of the property.
    “Man, he’s haulin’ ass!” Tiny said.
    “And he’s gettin’ away!” Sweat added.
    “No, he’s not…he is doin’ just exactly what I want him to do.” Reese chuckled out loud. “OK, boys; the two of you go down this road till you hit the Dummy Line—y’all know where it is. He’s gonna try and get out that way. You’ve got a good ten-mile jump on him. The gate combination is nineteen ninety-two, I think. If it ain’t, just shoot the damn thing off. There’s only two ways out of this bitch, and we will be on both of them. Kill him and anybody he’s got with him. I want that sumbitch to suffer. You hear me?” Reese was spitting as he screamed.
    Looking each of them in the eyes, Reese continued, “I’ll follow him that way.” He pointed the direction Jake had driven. “He can’t make it very far, it’s too muddy. That stupid sumbitch is trapped, and he don’t know it! Go! Now!”
    Sweat and Tiny jumped into their truck. Tiny stomped on the gas with all his might, his mud grips shooting a rooster tail of dirt and rocks thirty feet. Sweat checked his pistol. It only took a few minutes to reach the old abandoned railroad track. Tiny nearly lost control of the truck when he turned the sharp corner. In spite of sliding wildly, Sweat never looked up. Miraculously, Tiny regained control and stood on the gas again. After miles of rough road, they saw headlights piercing the darkness at the gate. Sweat started cussing. Then they both let out a rebel yell at the top of their lungs.

     
    Reese was trying to figure out what to do with Johnny Lee’s body. He decided to leave him in the back of the truck until they killed that scumbag. Reese covered Johnny Lee’s head and shoulders with a jacket. He then got into the truck, cranked it up, and slowly drove back to the camp house.
    Floodlights illuminated the yard. The camper lights were on. Its door was standing wide open. Reese approached cautiously, pistol drawn, peeking in the windows until he was satisfied that no one was inside. He stepped in and looked around. Camo clothes were everywhere. A heater glowed in the corner. On the top bunk, he saw a lime-green sleeping bag with a pink pillow and lying on the floor beneath was a stuffed toy of some kind. That’s odd, he thought as he stepped on it with a twist. He noticed several kids’ mystery novels. It started making sense. The scumbag’s got a kid with him…probably a girl. Oh, this is gonna be good—really, really good.
    As Reese was