Thursday, November 18, 2010
A THANKSGIVING TALE OF TERROR by LISA MONDELLO
Johnny's movement was automatic. The man who'd sprayed the window with bullets from the front porch before bursting through the front door was now down on his belly, knocked out.
Cranton knew then that Johnny wasn't only a soldier in Afghanistan, he was Special Forces. Only specialized training could have a soldier moving with precision like that so quickly. He wondered if Pamela knew. The question of why Johnny was suddenly here at the cabin grew more urgent.
A stunned Pamela stood in the middle of the floor looking at her brother. Hard eyes lifted to Pamela, and Johnny said, "Don't ever do that again."
"You should have stayed covered and let Johnny handle that. He may be your little brother, but he knows what he's doing," Cranton said.
"And how would you know?"
Johnny leveled him with a hard look, then pointed to the floor. “Never mind. We have to figure out what we’re going to do with him.”
“You’re bleeding,” she said, running to her brother’s side, putting her hands on his chin and pulling his face toward her for a better look. “It’s only a small scratch.”
“I’d climbed out of the bedroom window and moved in behind this clown just as he started shooting the window. Must have been caught with some flying glass.”
“I’m going to see if there is any antiseptic to clean that and then I want some answers. From both of you.”
Cranton caught the suspicious look on Pamela’s face, and even in the slightly rattled state she was in, she was a stunner. Her slightly upturned nose looked too cute when her lips where tight with anger. And she was miffed. He just wasn’t sure if it was because she was still in the dark about what was going on or because her brother got nicked from flying glass.
With Johnny’s face cleaned up, Pamela propped herself on the edge of the sofa and folded her arms across her chest.
“I’m not stupid. I know you’re being here for Thanksgiving is no accident, Johnny. You would have told me you were coming. So out with it.”
“Perhaps he has a reason he doesn’t want to share with you,” Cranton said, his heart rate kicking up a notch. This was either going to go bad…or it would be his salvation. The next few minutes would decide. He prayed they’d all be leaving this cabin alive.
"What does Turkey Drop mean to you?" Johnny said.
Cranton's eyes widened only slightly to let Johnny know he understood, but not enough to cause alarm that may be misunderstood. But Pamela caught that one tiny move.
"Turkey Drop. What are you talking about?” Looking from Cranton to her brother, Pamela said, "Is someone going to finally fill me in on what's going on?"
Johnny's hard glare locked onto Cranton. "You’re right, Pam. I'm not home for the holiday. I came here looking for...your boyfriend."