Packing Heat(165)

I held out my hand for him. “I’m Travis. This is Hartley.”

“Travis, nice to meet you. I’m Brock.” We shook hands and he smiled at me, his teeth white and straight.

Brock was the youngest of the brothers, though still older than Janey. He was tall and broad with a dark beard and dark hair. Hartley shook his hand next.

“We’re looking to get a tour,” I said.

“Okay, great. You’re just in time, actually. We have a little group getting ready to head out now.”

“Perfect,” I said. “What’s the deal?”

“Sixty bucks for the two of you, though I’ll knock it down to fifty, say, since you’re squeezing in with this group.”

“Sounds great.” I got out my wallet and paid the man.

“Right this way.”

I smiled at Hartley as Brock led us toward the back door.

“How’s this tour going to help us again?” she whispered.

“It’s going to help us have some fun.”

She looked like she wanted to say more, but we passed through the back door and headed over toward a group of people getting some instructions on how to ride the ATVs.

“You know how to use this?” Brock asked me, pointing the two of us to our vehicles.

“Sure do,” I said. “Used to ride all the time as a kid.”

“And you?” he asked Hartley.

“Same,” she said. “Grew up on a farm.”

“Oh really? Where at?”

“Out west,” she said, keeping it vague.

“Well okay then. These here are yours. Wear the helmets at all times and listen to your group leader. That’s my oldest brother, King.”

“Thanks,” Hartley said as Brock waved and headed off.

We got onto our ATVs and joined up with the group. King looked just like his younger brother, but thinner and shorter. He was going on about keeping to the trail, about safety and such, which gave me ample time to look at my surroundings.

The compound was actually pretty straightforward. We’d come in through the front building. There was another building to the left, a large and simple thing, probably some sort of storage barn for the bikes. To our back were a few more outhouses, smaller storage buildings, and a few little covered, open-air areas where they parked the ATVs.

Out to our right were a few more buildings, residential-looking places, and a little paddock with two old horses grazing. All in all, the compound was pretty big, but not unreasonably huge. I’d never been up this way before, and the landscape was pretty gorgeous. A path wound its way forward into the woods and probably deeper into the hills. I knew the mining companies used to work back here, and I was betting that the Caldwells knew every inch of those mines like the back of their collective fucking hand.

Which was good and bad. There were probably mountains of bodies down there, dropped dead from the mining operations, but also dropped to their death from the Caldwells’ operations. The stolen shit could easily be hidden in any one of the compound’s many outhouses, or it could be safely stashed back in the mines.

This was just a preliminary operation, but I could already tell that there were going to be more problems than anticipated.

“You all ready?” King called out.

The tourists revved their engines, clearly eager to get going. There was a family of four, a younger couple, two older couples, and a group of older women, clearly friends. They looked about what I expected: well-to-do with soft hands and a desire to pretend to rough it for a few hours.

The herd slowly moved out, following behind King. I grinned at Hartley.

“Bet you can’t keep up,” I said.

She laughed. “We’re not supposed to ride out of line,” she said.

“You listened to that shit?”

“Nothing else to do.”

“Look at you, following the rules.” I revved my engine. “See you later then, loser.”

I peeled out and fell into line right behind the three older women. We went pretty slow, pulling out away from the compound and into the woods, following a well-worn and wide trail.

Hartley pulled in a few people back, behind the family of four. I glanced back and saw the annoyed expression on her face as the young boy swerved from side to side, blocking her from getting around. I laughed and spun my wheels again, kicking dirt up into the air.

The group moved north along the trail. I had to admit that the damn hill country was beautiful even though it was deadly and dotted with mines. Back before the companies moved in and started tearing up the earth, the hill country was an ideal place to live. Plenty of space, fresh air, deep woods, fresh rivers, wild game and more, it had everything you needed to survive out in the wilderness. That was why Knoxville was founded to begin with. Settlers found the hill country and they never wanted to look back.