Page 41 of Go Alone

A comfortable silence hung in the air between them for several seconds. Obadiah would stay there forever if he could, but he had a farm to manage too. So, after a moment, he stood. “Got to put the chickens in before the rain gets here. Television’s workin’ again if you want something to occupy your mind.”

“The Word and Spirit of God occupy my mind,” Cox told him. “But thank you.”

Obadiah nodded once, then headed outside to bring the chickens into the coop.

The line of clouds he’d seen on the horizon just before starting lunch were much closer now. He figured they had less than fifteen minutes before the rain arrived.

He shuffled to the pen and shook his head when he saw the chickens all rushing around, bumping into each other, clucking nonstop, and occasionally even butting heads. Chickens were useful critters for their meat, eggs, and even feathers, but they weren't the smartest examples of God's creation.

Obadiah picked up the corn broom leaning against the outside of the coop and hopped the fence with a dexterity that would have shocked anyone who saw his burly frame. “All right, biddies. Time to git.”

The hens clucked indignantly as Obadiah brushed them toward the small hole that led into the sheltered coop. The rooster poked his head out of that hole to see what the commotion was. When he saw Obadiah, he pulled his head back inside. Boss was just bringing the women in before the storm.

One hen looked expectantly up at Obadiah and clucked once. Obadiah met her eyes. “Already fed you, and there’s more corn inside if you wanted to shake your little feathered tail that way. Only if it pleases you, of course, your majesty.”

He wasn't sure why, but he was always wordier with the hens than he was with people, maybe because the chickens made better conversation.

This hen clucked and trotted toward the hole, head high. She needed a few corrections with the broom so she wasn’t distracted, but eventually, she made it inside.

A few more stragglers followed, and finally, Obadiah was able to close the little shutter over the coop and call it done. The cow was smart enough to enter her pen without Obadiah’s prompting, and the squash wouldn’t be planted for five weeks yet, so he could head back to the house and make sure the windows were closed and shuttered.

He started that way and stopped when he saw twin lights sparkling on the road approaching the house. Those lights shone on the front of a Mercer County Sheriff’s Office vehicle, and when the driver of that vehicle saw Obadiah, he flicked on the flashing red and blue lights atop said vehicle.

The blood drained from Obadiah’s face. He had no fear for himself, but the Lawgiver couldn’t fall into the hands of the Devil’s soldiers.

Obadiah rushed into the house, once more displaying an athleticism that didn’t match his size. He burst through the front door and called, “Cox! You need to leave. Sheriffs are comin’. I can hold ‘em off, but you need to be long gone afore they send more behind them.”

Elijah Cox whipped his head up from the living room where he sat cross-legged on the rug in front of the blank television. He got to his feet, himself displaying more athleticism than his elderly appearance suggested. He smiled at Obadiah, and though he moved quickly, he seemed calm and unconcerned. “I see. Then this is goodbye, my friend. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Obadiah suggested. “Just be movin’.”

The Lawgiver’s hand moved with the speed of a snake striking. Fire exploded in Obadiah’s chest. He stepped backwards, his brow furrowing in confusion.

He saw blood dripping from the chef’s knife in Cox’s hand. Then he felt wetness on his chest. He looked down and saw blood pouring from a hole in his chest.

Many things became clear to Obadiah in that moment. He was a fool, first of all. Cox was no prophet, second of all. A prophet would never kill a child of God save for the Lamb whose purpose was pre-ordained.

Third, he was going to die. Cox’s blade had pierced his heart.

Obadiah lifted his gaze to the Lawgiver and saw the viciousness in the man’s eyes. He opened his mouth to tell Cox that he was no servant of God but of Satan. Instead of words, blood bubbled from his lips.

He sank to his knees, and Cox fled. He fell forward, and the door burst open. As his vision faded and eternity rushed close, Obadiah heard a voice call out, "Oh, God!" then say, "Dispatch, we have a ten-twenty at the ten-forty-seven. Need medical ASAP."

Obadiah was going to tell the sheriff not to bother, that it was too late for medical, but he died before the thought finished forming.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Elijah Cox carried the knife with him as he descended the steps to Obadiah MacCready’s root cellar. A crack of lightning sounded as he used the knife to pry open the door to the tunnel that would lead him to the trees. Obadiah had told him about that tunnel, built by his moonshiner great-grandfather during Prohibition, shortly after Cox’s arrival here, back when he was bedridden and Obadiah would sit with him from time to time to keep him company.

He would miss the strong, kind farmer. It was a pity that the sheriff's office had come looking for him.

And he must be the reason they were here. He’d examined Obadiah’s finances and criminal history before coming to his home and found nothing amiss. No reason at all why the sheriffs would come here other than to confirm some rumor that Obadiah was harboring the most wanted fugitive in the United States.

Oh well. Cox had prepared himself to lose Obadiah from the beginning. God asked for great sacrifice in the completion of His plan.

He exited the tunnel in time for another bolt of lightning to sear the sky with white. Rain—freezing, thick, and heavy—drove through the tree cover and pierced Cox’s thin garments, driving away all semblance of warmth. He would need to find warmer clothing.

But that was for later. He needed to put distance between himself and his pursuers.