Gray Mountain: A Novel(43)

“How long have they been there?” he asked.

“Don’t know,” Vic said. “But let’s get outta here.” They grabbed their backpacks and the rifle, and began a hurried descent down the mountain. Samantha slipped and almost fell. Vic caught her and kept her hand tight in his. They followed Donovan, ducking around trees, dodging boulders, clawing through underbrush, with no trail visible. After a few minutes, they stopped in a narrow open area. Vic pointed and said, “I came in this way. Call me when you get to your Jeep.” He disappeared into the woods, and they continued downward. The trail was not as steep and they managed to carefully jog for a few hundred yards. “Are we okay?” Samantha finally asked.

“We’re fine,” he said calmly. “They don’t know the trails like I do. And if they catch us they can’t kill us.”

She found little comfort in that. They picked up speed as the trail continued to flatten. The Jeep came into view a hundred yards away and Donovan paused for a second to search for other vehicles. “They haven’t found us,” he said. As they drove away, he sent a text to Vic. All was clear. They bounced down the mountain, dodging holes and ravines wide enough to swallow the Jeep, and after a few minutes he said, “We’re no longer on Strayhorn’s property.” He turned onto a paved road just as a large, dust-covered pickup truck raced around a curve. “That’s them,” he said. The truck moved to the middle of the road to block the Jeep, but Donovan hit the gas and passed it on the shoulder. At least three rough-looking characters in hard hats were in the truck, scowling and looking for trouble. They stopped abruptly and began turning around to give chase, but the Jeep left them behind.

Racing through the back roads of Hopper County, Donovan kept one eye on his mirror and said nothing. “Do you think they got your license plate number?” she asked.

“Oh, they know it’s me. They’ll run to the judge Monday morning and cry like babies. I’ll deny it all and tell them to stop whining. Let’s pick a jury.”

They passed the courthouse on Center Street in Colton. Donovan nodded in its direction and said, “There it is. Ground zero. The ugliest courthouse in Virginia.”

“I was there Wednesday, with Mattie.”

“Did you like the courtroom?”

“It’s kind of weird, but I’m not much of an expert on courtrooms. I’ve always tried to avoid them.”

“I love them. It’s the only place where the little guy can go toe-to-toe on a level field with a big, crooked corporation. A person with nothing—no money, no power—nothing but a set of facts can file a lawsuit and force a billion-dollar company to show up for a fair fight.”

“It’s not always fair, is it?”

“Sure it is. If they cheat, then I cheat. They play dirty, I get even dirtier. You gotta love justice.”

“You sound like my father. It’s frightening.”

“And you sound like my wife. She has no stomach for the work I do.”

“Let’s talk about something else.”

“Okay, do you have plans for tomorrow?”

“Saturday in Brady. The clinic is closed, so what are my options?”

“How about another adventure?”

“Does it involve guns?”

“No, I promise I will not carry a gun.”

“Will we trespass on someone’s property? Is there a chance of getting arrested?”

“No, I promise.”

“Sounds pretty dull. I’m in.”





13


Blythe called bright and early on Saturday morning with the incredible news that she had the day off, a rarity in her world. Her employment situation had stabilized; her firm had apparently stopped its bloodletting. No one had been shown the door in the past five days and promises were finally trickling down from above. A gorgeous fall day in the city with nothing to do but shop and worry about lunch and enjoy being young and single. She missed her roommate, and at that moment Samantha was painfully homesick. She had been away now for only two weeks, but given the distance it seemed like a year. They talked for half an hour before both needed to get on with their day.

Samantha showered and dressed quickly, eager to ease out of the driveway before Kim and Adam came bouncing out of the house with a list of things to do. So far, it seemed as though Annette and her children allowed their guest to come and go without notice. She lived as quietly as possible, and had yet to see them peeking through screens and around curtains. But, she was also quite aware that most of Brady was curious about the alien from New York.

For that reason, and because his marital situation was unstable, Donovan had suggested that she meet him at the county airport, eleven miles east of town. They would rendezvous there and begin the next adventure, the details of which he kept to himself. She was surprised to learn there was an airport within a hundred miles of Brady. Late Friday night, she searched it online and found nothing. How can an airport not have a Web site?

Not only was it missing a Web site, it also lacked aircraft, or at least none that she could see as the gravel road came to an end at the Noland County Airfield. Donovan’s Jeep was parked next to a small, metal building, and was the only vehicle in sight. She walked through the only door she saw and crossed through what appeared to be the lobby, with folding chairs and metal tables strewn with flying magazines. The walls were covered with fading photos of planes and aerial shots. The other door opened onto the ramp, and there was Donovan puttering around a very small airplane. She walked outside and said, “What’s that?”