Read Online Indivisible (Overlooked by Liberty) by Blair Smith - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Blair Smith
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here?"
Thad strained, trying to speak.
"Well, what is it?" She could see from the boy's panicked look, something was wrong. Tater continued staring out into blackness and took several steps toward the woods, ready to strike. "Is it Max?"
"Thad shook his head no."
"The Feds?"
He shook his head yes and opened the screen door. Grabbing her robe, he began tugging.
"Are they coming?"
He shook his head affirming it and drew her out the door.
"No. I have to get some things." Helen ran in and grabbed pants, shirt, and boots, then ran to Barry's room and snatched the picture of mother and son at Cascade Falls. She paused a moment--and found Thad tugging on her robe again. Seconds later, the two were out the back door with Tater in pursuit.
When they finally dared to stop and turn around, they could see flashlight beams darting about the house from their vantage point in the thick pines up the hill. Holding her bunched clothes under an arm, Helen watched the enemy ransack the only home she had ever known, in their search for her. Tater cocked her head, her eyes danced, following the flashlight beams below. In early December, snows had melted, but the bitter, damp air quickly chilled the motionless trio. Thad grasped Helen's hand and led her fumbling through the darkness. Tater paused for a moment to watch their home defiled by strangers, unable to protest.
The Rousell hideout was a large wooden teepee made of cedar logs with mounded dirt; moss and ferns covered the structure. An opening at the top allowed smoke to escape from a stacked-stone firebox inside. The rocks radiated warmth from an earlier burn; red coals remained. Thad gestured to Helen to sit on one of the mattresses as he went about feeding the coals with kindling stacked around the walls of the structure.
Helen sat shivering and hapless, hugging the only things she had left in the world. She watched the boy purposefully go about his chores. There is no expression of fear in this child's face, she concluded. She couldn't help but wonder what they went through at the Dixville Massacre. After Thad's mute effort to warn her at the house, she knew the tragedy had had a traumatic impact on him. He noticed her watching him and looked back.
"Whee te whee teeeeah," Butch's secret whistle pierced the air.
Thad responded with the same shrill pitch. Moments later Butch flipped up the tarp and paraded in. Tater bound through the door behind him, tail wagging. She had gone back to check on Butch after escorting the two to safety. She lapped Helen's face.
Helen dropped her clothes and held the dog away. "Please Tater, give me some space." To Tater, this was all an adventure.
"We kicked their ass, Thad," Butch boasted. "I flattened every tire on their cars with my Scout knife while they were up at the house." He looked over to Helen. "I see you rescued Barry's mom. That's rugged, Thad. Real rugged." He said to Helen, "Me and Thad take care of our own, you know," Butch noticed she was shivering; he went over to a trunk, opened it, and pulled out a jacket to put around her. "We won't let the Feds get ya. You're safe here. Only Thad, Barry, Tater, and me know about this place--and now you, of course. Not even Max knows about it."
Helen looked at the jacket and noticed it was Barry's. Butch saw her expression. "That's Barry's. He still has stuff here. We started this place in the spring. It sure came in handy. It sure did."
Helen didn't say a thing--just sat glumly and watched the fire regain life from the added twigs. It smoldered and popped--eventually, spewing out flames, adding new life to nearly dead embers. Ashen smoke strayed side to side, eventually wading to the
Thad strained, trying to speak.
"Well, what is it?" She could see from the boy's panicked look, something was wrong. Tater continued staring out into blackness and took several steps toward the woods, ready to strike. "Is it Max?"
"Thad shook his head no."
"The Feds?"
He shook his head yes and opened the screen door. Grabbing her robe, he began tugging.
"Are they coming?"
He shook his head affirming it and drew her out the door.
"No. I have to get some things." Helen ran in and grabbed pants, shirt, and boots, then ran to Barry's room and snatched the picture of mother and son at Cascade Falls. She paused a moment--and found Thad tugging on her robe again. Seconds later, the two were out the back door with Tater in pursuit.
When they finally dared to stop and turn around, they could see flashlight beams darting about the house from their vantage point in the thick pines up the hill. Holding her bunched clothes under an arm, Helen watched the enemy ransack the only home she had ever known, in their search for her. Tater cocked her head, her eyes danced, following the flashlight beams below. In early December, snows had melted, but the bitter, damp air quickly chilled the motionless trio. Thad grasped Helen's hand and led her fumbling through the darkness. Tater paused for a moment to watch their home defiled by strangers, unable to protest.
The Rousell hideout was a large wooden teepee made of cedar logs with mounded dirt; moss and ferns covered the structure. An opening at the top allowed smoke to escape from a stacked-stone firebox inside. The rocks radiated warmth from an earlier burn; red coals remained. Thad gestured to Helen to sit on one of the mattresses as he went about feeding the coals with kindling stacked around the walls of the structure.
Helen sat shivering and hapless, hugging the only things she had left in the world. She watched the boy purposefully go about his chores. There is no expression of fear in this child's face, she concluded. She couldn't help but wonder what they went through at the Dixville Massacre. After Thad's mute effort to warn her at the house, she knew the tragedy had had a traumatic impact on him. He noticed her watching him and looked back.
"Whee te whee teeeeah," Butch's secret whistle pierced the air.
Thad responded with the same shrill pitch. Moments later Butch flipped up the tarp and paraded in. Tater bound through the door behind him, tail wagging. She had gone back to check on Butch after escorting the two to safety. She lapped Helen's face.
Helen dropped her clothes and held the dog away. "Please Tater, give me some space." To Tater, this was all an adventure.
"We kicked their ass, Thad," Butch boasted. "I flattened every tire on their cars with my Scout knife while they were up at the house." He looked over to Helen. "I see you rescued Barry's mom. That's rugged, Thad. Real rugged." He said to Helen, "Me and Thad take care of our own, you know," Butch noticed she was shivering; he went over to a trunk, opened it, and pulled out a jacket to put around her. "We won't let the Feds get ya. You're safe here. Only Thad, Barry, Tater, and me know about this place--and now you, of course. Not even Max knows about it."
Helen looked at the jacket and noticed it was Barry's. Butch saw her expression. "That's Barry's. He still has stuff here. We started this place in the spring. It sure came in handy. It sure did."
Helen didn't say a thing--just sat glumly and watched the fire regain life from the added twigs. It smoldered and popped--eventually, spewing out flames, adding new life to nearly dead embers. Ashen smoke strayed side to side, eventually wading to the
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