US Route 191 approximately twenty miles north of Jackson Hole
The day after the day of
“Dad, I gotta pee,” Ellis moaned.
Despite well over twelve inches of volcanic ash on the road and poor visibility, the F-250 continued to bulldoze its way forward, albeit slowly. Although they had been moving for almost two hours since picking up Brandon and Sophie, they had only traveled a little over five miles.
Nevertheless, Jeremy knew they needed a bathroom break, and he needed to change out the pillowcase covering the engine’s air filter. “OK, ladies, the Glacier View Turnout is just ahead. We’ll stop there. Stay with your mom, do your business, and then get back in the truck.”
“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Fiona said. “Not with those two goons in the back.”
A few minutes later, Jeremy stopped the truck but, as before, didn’t turn off the engine. Once the transmission was in park, he attached the pistol’s holster to the left side of his belt, with Judy quietly watching. Grabbing the clean pillowcase from the space between him and Judy, he popped the truck’s hood latch and got out.
At the same time, Judy got out on the passenger side. “Ellis, hand Hunter to me, and you girls get out on this side.” Hoisting Hunter over her left shoulder, she shepherded the twins out of the truck and toward the edge of the road, continually glancing back at the truck. They disappeared into the ash-thick air.
As Jeremy replaced the clogged pillowcase covering the air filter with a clean one, he heard the truck door slam. Good. That meant Judy and the kids were back from their pee break. He closed the hood and took the opportunity to urinate.
“What the . . . Get your hands off me!” Judy snarled.
Jeremy zipped up his pants and tore around the front of the truck to the passenger side.
The biker stood by the rear cab door, clutching Judy in his massive left hand, his tire-tool weapon in his right. “Hold this bitch, Rose,” he growled, shoving Judy toward his “old lady,” standing slightly behind and to his left.
He turned to Jeremy. “We’re gonna be needing your truck, hillbilly. You drive like old people fuck. Me and Rose can make better time if we don’t have to stop every ten minutes so the women can make peepee. You and your pretty little wife, those two in the back and their snot-nosed shit machine, you can wait here. We’ll keep the two brats for insurance. Once we get clear of this shit storm, we’ll send somebody back for you.”
Rose dug her fingernails into Judy’s arms.
“Let me go, you slut!” Judy growled with no hint of fear.
“Smack her in the face, Snake,” Rose screamed. “That’ll shut her up.”
Brandon and Sophie clambered out the back of the truck, alarm on their faces. Brandon crouched behind the tailgate, a few feet behind Snake, and motioned for Sophie to get back.
Ellis and Fiona pressed their faces to the window, clearly terrified.
“Take your bitch and get over there,” Snake barked at Jeremy. “Brandon from Minnesota, get your little larva outta the truck and go stand with these two. We’ll add Miss Sophie to our insurance policy. Go! I ain’t got all day.”
Brandon glared at Snake and clenched his fists.
Judy twisted violently to her right, shot her left arm forward, then slammed her elbow back straight into the bridge of Rose’s nose. With a soft, almost inaudible crunch, blood gushed down the biker chick’s face.
“I’ll murder you, bitch!” Rose screamed, cupping her hand over her now oddly angled nose.
Snake raised his right hand up and across his chest, clearly preparing to smash Judy’s face with the tire iron.
At the same time, Jeremy pulled the .357 out of its holster and, in one smooth, well-practiced move, cocked the hammer back, pointed the pistol toward Snake’s stomach, and pulled the trigger.
The explosion was deafening.
One hundred fifty pellets burst out of the gun’s two-inch barrel and burned their way into the flesh in a pie-plate-sized pattern around Snake’s navel. The combination of the pistol’s short barrel, the low-mass birdshot, and the distance between Jeremy and Snake kept the pellets from penetrating more than an inch into his fleshy belly.
Snake screamed like a banshee. He dropped the tire iron and fell to the ground, clutching his stomach. Rose cupped her hand over her still-bleeding nose and knelt on one knee beside him, placing her free hand on his shoulder. “You didn’t have to shoot him!” she cried.
“Brandon, you and Sophie get in the back seat with the twins,” Jeremy ordered. “We’re leaving now.” He opened the passenger door and ushered a still-steaming Judy inside.
“What about us? You can’t leave us here. We’ll suffocate in this stuff!” Rose wailed. Then, standing up, she started for the truck. “Take me with you.”
Jeremy got behind the wheel, put the truck in gear, and started driving. Sophie, Brandon, and the twins looked out the rear window and watched as Rose stumbled forward a few feet, then stopped and started back toward Snake.
“Wow! Dad popped a cap in his ass,” Ellis whispered to Fiona.
“Those idiots,” Judy fumed. She twisted around, facing the twins for a second, then turned back around and stared out the windshield. “Yes. Yes, he did.”