Part One - Brad Kilgore

  Chapter Two – He stood somewhere past anger.

  He acted like he was a ‘made’ man. He would have said that he was smarter than you, more careful than you and better than you in any way you could name. At least, he thought he was smarter, and he wanted people to believe he was careful. But none of these were true.

  His clothes were new and had designer names on them. Still, he appeared to be dirty and unkept. Somehow, he managed this without ever doing any kind of real work. The fact that he was an ex-bodybuilder with a bad combover did not help his appearance. He was below average height, and he was above average weight. His every movement was crafted to frighten the people around him. At times, he was even able to scare already frightened people. Since most of his business was under the table, he thought of himself as an outlaw. He had spent time crafting this image of a tough guy. He had stomped his foot at small children. He had needlessly beat women. He had frightened small people into paying debts they did not owe. He had come to think of himself as a criminal mastermind. The truth was, he was small-minded, greasy, and frightened.

  There had been no sounds of a car. The knock had been strong and determined. The greasy man thought that it was another one of those local farmers coming beg for money. He would gladly lend it to them. Then they would be his. Stupid farmers always wanting. Stupid farmer's daughters wanting to help daddy. Running money, running drugs, running girls, running cops it was all the same to him.

  Three more knocks on the door. These were just as strong, but not as commanding. The image through the glass appeared to be a farmer standing in silhouette. The night was coming, and the image was not bright. The greasy man believed he was right. The visitor was just another farmer. Besides, there was just one person. What could one person do? He held the sawed-off double-barreled shotgun in his right hand as he opened the door with his left.

  "Hello there, Brad Kilgore!” The stranger shouted. The words came at him like a brick through a window. Then everything went dark. He witnessed the darkness coming, but reality was too slow.

  The wood frame farmhouse was set back from the road. Once a bright yellow, but now a dull, dirty tan. It needed more than just paint. The wrap around porch was still functional, but it had seen better days. The screen door leaned against the wall. It hung on to the frame with one hinge. Like many things, it wasn't ready to give up. The frame of the front door had once been painted a bold green. But the green has flaked away. Only a few hints of green remained. One time this house may have been grand and welcoming. It wasn't anymore. Now it was partially hidden from view by unkept trees, overgrown weeds and a neglected barn. Joy was not part of this house.

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  The barn had long been in the process of decay. Lately that process had sped up. There was some evidence of fire damage on the side of the barn facing the road. The barn leaned slightly. This was probably due to age. It didn't seem to weaken the barn. The siding on the barn was beginning to fail, and holes were beginning to peek through the tin roof. Even so, its bones were still strong. Sadly, the people and the love were gone from this place. The only person who remained didn’t seem to belong.

  It was a choking cough. The cough was enough to wake him up. At first, he didn't understand. How could he sleep sitting up? His mind was foggy. He stood and began to walk, then the world pulled away. The ground slipped away from his feet. This is when the pain in the back of his neck sent lightning down his spine. None of this made any sense. He flinched and grimaced. Air? Why couldn't he get any air? The world began to slip away. Then it was gone.

  He blinked and slowly drew in a breath. The realization of his circumstances came to him slowly. With his eyes barely open, he had put everything together. He was in the old barn. The main doors were in front of him. The grain box and the tools were to his right. The barn’s storage was behind him. This was where the fire had been. His neck wouldn't bend to look directly down, but he knew he was on the old chair. His hands were bound behind him. He guessed it was probably a rope. It was the pain that encircled his neck that was harder to explain. But somehow it was related to the pressure pulling him upwards, and the pain at the base of his skull. Slowly a thought came to him. “It's a rope.” He mumbled about the ache in his neck.

  Even without an active fire, the scent remained. He could taste the burnt in his mouth. The image of the barn burning never really left him. This happened whenever he came here. He wasn't haunted. The images of that day just left him empty and unsatisfied. His thoughts drifted. He tested the strength of the chair beneath him. He tugged on the rope. It still held his hands behind his back. He choked. “It's a freaking noose!” He croaked out. Suddenly, he was angry. There was no way he was going to let anyone do this. Someone was going to pay. His anger grew and the world faded.

  A moment later, moonlight streamed through the holes in the ceiling. Dust particles launched from the floor. They slowly floated upward. At first, he didn’t know what they were. Each floating spec seemed to grow as air returned to his lungs. Then he thought about the man at the door. He had said his name, then grabbed the shotgun. Afterwards the world went black. He had been knocked out by his own shotgun. His anger returned.

  Still, if it had happened to someone else, he would have laughed at them. People, just a bunch of stupid sheep. He always got what he wanted, and he would do the same thing now. His vision cleared, and he knew where he was. This was good. He was on his own ground. He had the advantage. He eyed the man on the grain box. There he was another sucker.

  The man on the grain box said. “I'm so sorry. I hate to see you in pain like this. Hopefully, this won't take too long, and we can get you free.” He didn’t want Brad Kilgore to be free.