A Second Chance

By Sandra L Kent

Dave Branson has found another place to land in another one-horse town, just a stranger in this town and increasingly in his life as well.  Taking temporary jobs he would never have considered in the past, doing things that step over a line he thought he'd never cross – that is his life these days.  Anger, frustration and fear cloud his judgement and fuel his actions.  And he has good reason to be afraid.

The abandoned cabin he found hidden in the woods on the edge of this latest strange little town serves his needs for now but he knows that could end at any time should someone challenge him.  It's why he leaves no evidence he's been using the cabin, not a food wrapper, not a receipt, nothing to say he's been here.  Even the dog he'd picked up to serve as an early warning signal has disappeared, which worries him even more since she did not escape on her own.  Someone rescued her.  Why and how he would have to figure out.

He knows the powerful money man he works for only by his voice, directing him what to do, where to go and making payments electronically once each job is done.  The jobs leave Dave uneasy and he knows this is not a man to cross. As cold weather settles in, his interactions with some in the town grow confrontational and his mood darkens.  Hunger becomes a very real aspect as another lonely, desperate Christmas nears. 

Then an unexpected phone call from his brother serving overseas jars him from the fog of hate that has settled over him.  His brother reminisces about when they were little, the moments they shared, the moments that set them on the separate paths they took.  When the call drops due to a low battery, he races out to recharge it in his truck and stumbles over an anonymous gift basket of food left by someone who simply noticed smoke coming from the chimney of what is considered abandoned property and was concerned.  Someone concerned about him.  An expression of caring he hadn't felt in years. The people in this region, even the dog he showed so little regard for have had a strange effect on him.  With his brother's comments, he realizes he must take action to try to stop a potential disaster in the making. 

Knowing what he has done, the men he has armed, he fears what will happen to this small town that seems willing to open its heart to outsiders.  The 'arts from around the world festival' they planned to celebrate life and the coming new year seems like a dangerous, open-armed welcome and he fears it will be like catnip to the men he has unwittingly armed these past several months.  

Something about the dog and some of the local townspeople draws him toward a path to redemption, maybe a second chance for himself if he has the strength to take action. He must find a way to stop the carnage before it's too late. 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sandra L Kent
• Release date: Dec 1, 2020
• ISBN: 9781736068601

Book preview

Strangers in the Distance

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DAVE BRANSON SWUNG his truck out of the heavily wooded area and out onto the gravel road with barely a glance in either direction.  The road was seldom traveled by locals because it was far enough out of town to not be worth anyone’s time.  No businesses to attract attention, no side roads to draw traffic and certainly no upkeep ever done on the road itself since it was so rarely used by the townspeople.  That suited him just fine.  The fewer people who knew he was out here the better.  He grimaced at the jarring pounding his truck was taking from the washboard condition of the road and eased off the gas.  He couldn’t afford repairs and didn’t dare go into town any more often than absolutely necessary. 

He glanced into his rearview mirror out of habit and squinted to see through the dust he’d kicked up.  What was that in the far distance?  It looked like a couple kids walking down the edge of the road.  He couldn’t stop, didn’t dare back up or he’d draw unwanted attention to himself.  Maybe they were just going fishing out at the river nearby?  Concern nagged at him though.  Why were they out here?  And had they seen him pull out of the woods from his hiding place?  He didn’t want them wandering into the woods and finding the cabin he’d been using.  Not like there was much there that would reveal anything about him.  But that useless dog was still in the cellar . . . if she was still alive.  He’d planned on checking on her before he left but had forgotten and it was too late now.  He’d have to take care of that when he got back. 

He shook his head and berated himself for making a foolish mistake that could cause trouble.  If the dog heard kids goofing around in the woods, she might start barking and draw them to her.  He’d have to come up with some kind of story to explain why he was out here.  He made a mental note to work on that as the road ahead curved and the image of the kids in his rearview mirror disappeared in the distance.

The Surprise

KEVIN PUSHED HIS BIKE along a narrow gravel road toward a wooded area on the northwest edge of town and noticed something had kicked up some heavy dust in the distance up ahead.  He hadn’t expected anyone else to be out here but it wasn’t like the road was closed.  Two of his friends slogged along about twenty feet behind him trudging through the thick gravel, arguing in hushed tones.  You just had to double-dog dare him, didn't you?  Mike hissed at his friend.

He ought to know I didn't mean nothin’ by it, Paul shot back.  I was just having a little fun. He looked to their friend several steps ahead to see if Kevin was truly mad.

Kevin paused to look back at his two friends.  Mike, drop it, okay?  Paul's right.  If I don't have the guts to follow through, I am a wus.  You don't have to come along.  I can do this by myself.

Mike paused, hands on his hips in frustration. Kevin, no one expects you to do this.  You know Paul's mouth runs twice as fast as his brain.  He never knows what he's gonna say until it’s out there floatin’ away on the breeze.  Mike stared pointedly at Paul, daring him to disagree.

I know, I know.  That's just his way.  Kevin stopped at the entrance to a narrow foot trail that veered off into a heavily wooded area and waited for them to catch up to him.  The effort to push his bike with a small wagon attached behind it through the thick gravel had raised a sweat.  He quickly shucked his jacket off and tossed it into the wagon on top of a coil of nylon rope along with the other supplies he'd brought along for this project.  The cool September breeze felt good, but a sudden, barely audible moan raised involuntary goose bumps on his arms.  He glanced back at his friends and shuddered.  Guys, don't do that.  It’s creeping me out.

His friends finally reached his side, glancing first at each other then back at Kevin.  What are you talking about? Mike asked.

The moaning.  Stop it.  

But—

No buts, Mike.  My mind's made up.  I'll see you later.

Mike reached out to delay his friend a moment longer.  Uh, Kevin - maybe you should leave a trail just in case we have to come looking for you.  You know the stories about this area.

Kevin stared pointedly at the ground for a moment and then looked back at his best friend for so many years.  I think Paul's got you more spooked than me, Mike.  There are no witches in there.  No ogres.  No vampire bats.  No boogiemen.  I'll be fine.  You head home and I'll talk to you later.  With that, he pushed off onto the narrow trail, following it until it came to a bend.  He looked back once more and saw his friends still standing there watching him.  Guys - chill!  I’ll be fine.

He moved out of their line of sight and further into the deep shade of the woods. Another moan whispered through the russet-colored leaves and he smiled and shook his head at the stubbornness of his friends.  He wasn't afraid - much. The rumors and tall tales about this area were just that - stories meant to scare kids.  

But he wasn't a kid.  At 15, he was old enough to get a job and, if his hunch was right, this little venture might pay off better than any job he could ever get in town.  It had to.  He saw the stress lines on his mother’s face every day.  She hardly looked like she did in the last family photo taken when he was just a toddler. Then her face had been filled with joy as she held him in one arm and reached out to his dad with the other.  Now she pretended everything was fine but her eyes said it wasn’t.  His mother would never admit it but the frequency of mac 'n cheese or spaghetti for supper told him all he needed to know about their financial situation.

So he could handle stupid ghost stories, even the vampire bat stories, and actually appreciated them. They'd keep everyone else away from the caves and let him reap the profits if his hunch was right.  He hesitated as the wooded area grew even denser and darker around him.  His confidence in his ability to find his way in an unfamiliar place dipped slightly.  Maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea to mark a trail for when he was ready to leave.  He broke some branches along the way deciding that the marked trail, along with his compass, would help him find his way out when the time came.  

He pulled a map from his pocket and studied the hand-drawn sketch he'd created based on the research he'd done on the library computer.  If he was correct, the caves should be about a mile northwest from where he'd left the road.  

Another moan sounded – louder this time.  Absolutely certain it was not his friends now, he called out, Who's there?  Where are you?

You can hear me? The surprised, weak voice sounded hopeful this time.  It's dark and cold where I am.

Are you hurt?  Kevin turned, struggling to get a direction on where the voice was coming from but strangely enough, it sounded like it was originating in his head. 

Yes.  Please - help me.  Don’t leave me.

Okay.  I'm gonna keep moving and talking.  Let me know if my voice seems louder or softer.  Kevin moved on through the dense brush, breaking branches as he moved.  So, what happened, he asked.  Did you fall?

No.  Kicked.

Kicked?  By what - a deer?

No - a man.  You're getting closer.  Be careful.  He might still be around.

Who?

The bad man. Very dangerous. Don't let him see you.

Kevin hesitated at that.  He glanced around the area, trying to see beyond the thick overgrowth.  He didn't need to tangle with some crazy weirdo and have to explain to his mom any injuries sustained while he was out here.  Doctors cost big money, something they never had enough of these days.  There'd be time enough for explanations later about why he’d come out here if his plan proved successful.  Till then, he had to be careful.  The narrow path split a little further ahead and he paused.  Look, the trail I'm on divides.  Do you know this area?  Do you know where you are from where the trail splits?

No, I don't.  Please hurry.  I hurt.

Kevin pushed on, wishing his mom could afford cell phones.  The old rotary phone on the kitchen wall was cheap but did him no good at all out here.  But a cell phone could have made a difference.  He could have called Mike for help if nothing else.  As it was, all he could do was keep moving.  Can you still hear me? he called out, ducking under low-hanging branches and pushing his bike along the narrow, overgrown path with some effort.  Does it sound like I'm closer or further away?

Closer.  Look for a building.

A building?  Out here?  How -  He stopped as the dense overgrowth ahead of him thinned enough to reveal a worn-out, run down shack that looked as ancient as some of the old trees.  Uh - okay, I think I've found it.  I'm gonna circle around and talk as I move.  Let me know when I get close.

Okay.

So, do you live out here? Kevin asked as he studied the landscape and the dilapidated shack.  

Not by choice, came the reply.

Kevin considered that response.  What do you mean by that?  Are you -

Stop!  You're very close.  Look around. Do you see me?

Kevin studied the terrain in frustration.  I don't see anything that would match your description of a dark hole.  He turned and looked at the house.  Are you sure you're not in a room or something, maybe with the lights off?

No.  The ground is cold.  I'm so cold.  It's dark here - dark as night.

But it's daylight - not even noon yet, Kevin replied.  You'd have to be - His gaze fell on an old cellar door that hugged the ground at barely a 30-degree angle.  It looked like little more than a pile of planks pushed up against the cabin, but he could see a padlock on it now.  He hit the kickstand on his bike and moved closer to examine the lock.  It was old and rusty but the screws holding the metalwork to the wood were visible and looked pliable.  I think I know where you are, he said.  He knocked on the flat wooden door.  Can you hear that?

Yes, yes, I hear you!  Please let me out.

Give me a minute, I'm working on it, Kevin replied.  I've gotta figure a way past this lock.  He went through his pockets and pulled out a key ring with various items attached to it.  One was a small metal disk with various odd-shaped ends protruding all around it.  It might just do the trick.  He applied pressure onto the screw head and grunted with effort.  Nothing.  

Kevin struggled to break the bond that both time and weather had made between screw and wood but it would not budge.  He examined the other items on his key chain and tried one key that was thinner than the rest.  Pressing the flat side of the key down hard, he twisted the key and felt a slight give.  After repeated tries he was finally able to remove the first screw.  Five minutes later he had the other screw off and bent to lift the wooden door up. 

Daylight spilled down a set of rickety wooden stairs into a dark room with a hard dirt floor.  Kevin eyed the steps with suspicion.  I don't know how sturdy these steps are, he called out.  Give me a minute to rig something up so we both don't end up stuck down there."  He took the nylon rope from the wagon that he’d brought as a safety line when he went into the caves and tied it to a nearby tree.  At the basement door he tied several double knots into the rope, spacing them about a yard apart.  Finally, he threw the rope down into the basement and, holding onto it with one hand, cautiously moved down the steps into the damp, dark room.  The steps creaked in protest but held.  At the bottom, he paused and glanced around, the daylight from above extending only so far into the chilly, gloom of the dank cellar. 

Okay.  I'm not sure how big this room is or what's down here.  Is there a light switch?

I don't know.

Kevin took the pen-sized flashlight on his key ring and swung it around the room at floor level.  Off to one side he spotted an old wheelbarrow leaning against a wall, a few garden tools and what appeared to be a small black rug, but little else.  I don't see much down here—  He jumped back as what he'd thought was a rug moved.  Jeez, there's something else down here with you!

Don't be frightened - that's me.

Kevin moved closer and knelt in stunned silence.  You're - you're a dog?

His flashlight played over the prone figure of a full-size black Labrador retriever, albeit one who hadn't seen a decent meal in months.  But how?  I hear you speaking to me.

Which means you're more receptive than most, the dog replied in his mind. 

Kevin reached out and gently ran a hand along her side.  I don't believe this.  No one's gonna believe me.

She glanced at him with soulful eyes.  You're right, they won't.  So you must never tell anyone.  This must be our secret.  She winced when he touched her ribs.  Oh, don't - that hurts.

I'm sorry, Kevin replied, lifting his hand away quickly.  Look, if I try to carry you out, I could hurt you even more and our combined weight could collapse a step, which would be even worse for both of us.  Let me bring my wagon down, I'll get you into it and see if I can rig a hoist to lift you out.  That should limit the risk of hurting you more.

Her eyes met his in a pleading expression.  Just get me out of here before he comes back.

Kevin moved quickly up the steps to untie the wagon from his bike.  He then removed everything from it but his coat.  He studied the area over the cellar door in search of something he could use for leverage.  Nothing overhead looked strong enough to hold.  A nearby tree stump caught his eye and he looped the nylon rope around the base of it and tested it for strength.  It seemed to be sturdy.  Untying the rope from the first tree, he wrapped it around his waist, measured off the length needed to reach from the stump to the basement door, then measured the length needed to reach to the bottom of the basement.  He had enough to do what he needed. 

In the basement again, he approached the emaciated dog and knelt beside her.  Okay, I'm gonna lift you into the wagon.  My jacket will serve as a little bit of a cushion for you.  Once I get the wagon set up, I'll raise you up and out and hopefully not hurt you any more than you already have been. 

After spreading out his jacket into the bed of the wagon, he knelt on his knees and gently slid his arms under the dog.  I'm gonna lift you up and pivot you towards my body, then try to slowly lower you into the wagon - don't bite me, okay?  I won't hurt you if I can avoid it.

Her gaze met his.  I understand.

He moved slowly, placing her into the wagon as though she would shatter with the slightest touch.  She groaned and he paused to study her.  Are you okay?

She licked his hand.  I will be with your help.

He then looped the nylon cord around each wheel and brought the sections up and over the dog, creating a web to hold her secure.  Finally, he brought the loose end of the rope up through the center of the web and secured it again.  Okay, let's see if this works.  He tested it there in the basement, wrapping the rope around his fists and lifting slightly to see if the wagon tilted or not.  It stayed level and he nodded with satisfaction.  He then walked up the steps, over to the tree stump and looped the other end of the rope around the base of it before tying it around his waist.  Slowly, he began to walk back toward the basement door, the rope becoming taut as the wagon slowly lifted off the basement floor. 

Kevin leaned into the effort, using his body to counterbalance the weight of the frail dog.  The closer he came to the open basement door, the higher the wagon and dog rose.  Every few paces he held onto a knotted segment in the rope and rotated to take up the slack around his body as he inched forward.  The knots intermittently spaced along the rope gave him hold points to maintain his progress as he proceeded. 

Once he'd reached the basement door, he carefully knelt down and peered over the edge.  There, just below him, was the gently swaying wagon.  He knelt, struggling against the pull of the rope to hold his position at the door.  He reached down and strained to lift it up onto the open door beside him and roll it safely away from the edge.  With the tension on the rope slack now, he took a pocket knife out and cut the rope from around his waist and from the wheels of the wagon.  Carefully, he lifted the wagon and dog from the door's surface to the ground and rolled it toward his bike.  You doing okay? he asked. 

She didn't make a sound, just stared at him but it was as though her thoughts popped into his mind.  Yes, thank you.

He shook his head in amazement at what was happening between them.  No one would ever believe him.  As he attached the wagon to the bike again, he reassured her. I'm gonna get you to a vet who I've heard is one of the best in the area.

Just get me away from here, she replied. 

I will.  No one is ever going to hurt you again, I promise.  With that Kevin concentrated on retracing his steps through the forest.  Once back out on the gravel road, he walked his bike through the thick gravel until it thinned enough that he could ride his bike the rest of the way.  By the time he reached the vet's office on the edge of town, he'd worked up a serious sweat even in the cool September air. 

Dr. Cady had been a rural vet in the area for about 10 years and Kevin was confident he could help if anyone could.  He braced the door to the veterinary clinic open with one knee and lifted the wagon over the slightly raised lip of the entryway before rolling it into the office. 

A middle-aged secretary appraised him with a knowing eye and spoke into her phone.  Doc, you need to come out here right now.

Moments later a man with thinning, dusty brown hair just starting to gray at the edges came out from the back room smelling like antiseptic.  He looked at the boy, then at the dog and bent to quickly assessed the dog's condition.  Looks like she's seen some hard times, he said, looking up at the teenager beside the dog.  Bring her on back and we'll see what we can do while you tell me what this is all about.

As they rolled into an exam room, Kevin gave a brief description of how he'd found her, leaving out the fact that he'd broken into a locked cabin cellar to retrieve her and that he could 'hear' her thoughts.  I think she may have some broken or cracked ribs so if you could leave her in the wagon till you know for sure, I imagine she would appreciate it. 

The dog glanced at Kevin, her ears tucked down and her warm brown eyes saying thank you even as he heard her voice in his head.  Kevin gave her a reassuring smile and returned his focus to the doctor. 

Doc Cady's hands moved gently but efficiently over her body.  She's been through the wringer, that's for sure.  You say you found her out in the woods northwest of town?

Yeah.

Well, somebody did some serious damage to her and it wasn't by accident.  She sure didn't do this to herself.  Any sign of who was responsible?

Kevin shook his head. No, I didn't see anybody.  Is she gonna be okay?

The vet eyed him curiously.  Yes, with time and a better diet. She doesn’t look like she weighs more than 50 pounds. You plan on taking responsibility for her?

Kevin's glance met hers and there was no hesitation. Yes.  I won't let anybody ever hurt her again.

The vet nodded with respect, his hands gently assessing the dog and ministering to her injuries.  "Good man.  We'll get her fixed up then and you can take her home.  That's gonna be okay with your folks, right?  I don't want to find out she's running loose on the streets having to fend for herself because you were outvoted.  She doesn't have enough fat on her bones to last long if that were to happen and in her current condition, she couldn't defend herself against an attack or run