The Jolly Roger Motel

Chapter Two

Bubba climbed up into his 1978 Peterbilt tractor and locked the door behind him. He lay down on the sleeper bed and propped his head so he could watch the motel parking lot. A black van pulled in adjacent to the red pickup and 3 men got out. They threw the dead bodies into the back of the van, and two of the men jumped back in the van and drove away. The third man drove away in the red pickup. About 15 minutes later, the cops showed up. They didn't stay long. They looked around and attempted to talk to people in adjacent rooms but no one seemed to cooperate. So they left. Bubba lay his head down and slept.

About 4 a.m., a bright light wakened Bubba. Someone was standing on the hood of his truck and shining a very bright flashlight into his truck cab. Someone else was attempting to open the driver's door to the truck. Bubba sat up and leaned forward just enough to reach the switch to the dual air horns and turned them on with a long blast. He heard someone curse then they fell off of the hood of the truck. Then he heard them yelling, "I think I broke my leg!"

Another voice yelled out, "We know you're in there. You may as well come out now. We aren't leaving without your head." I sat on the sleeper bed for a few moments exploring my options. I could open the door and take my chances. I could simply drive away in my truck. Maybe, I could negotiate with them. I decided the latter. "I'm not entirely sure what I've done wrong but I'm willing to meet you halfway. I'll follow you someplace more private where we can continue this conversation without risking the police getting involved." There was a long pause and then silence. The red pickup truck suddenly appeared in front of my truck and two men jumped out and grabbed the guy on the ground who was still holding his leg. They tossed him into the bed of the truck and then got back into the cab. The driver motioned with his hand for me to follow him.

I got behind my steering wheel, released the parking brakes, shoved the big engine into gear, and slowly eased out on the clutch. I didn't want these fellas getting away from me none too soon. We drove west on SH-10 for roughly 5 miles before turning back south onto an old county road that led into an area called "the bottoms" by the locals. It had been called the bottoms since the early 1930s because it is where the grand prairie dumped its groundwater runoff. It had been largely left undeveloped over the decades because it was mostly swampy land. Several of the larger cities use the area to dump trash and waste products.

We drove about 7 miles along the greenback into the swampiest area of the bottoms. There was a place that widened significantly and the red pickup pulled over and I pulled in behind them. A minute or so later, a black SUV coming from the other direction, also pulled in and came to a stop in front of the red truck. I had no idea how many people were in the SUV but I knew there were 3 men and 1 injured in the red pickup. I had already counted on the odds being uneven, I just didn't know how lopsided they would be, so I reached over hit a switch on my dashboard.

Over the years, I had made several modifications to my truck. Mostly because I often found myself in need of such modifications. Nothing extravagant. Just commonsense modifications that served to keep me alive in dangerous situations. I deemed this to be a dangerous situation and it so happened, I had a modification that just might serve the purpose. The switch controlled several things. It activated a GPS transponder on a special frequency to notify my "friends" where I was and that I needed them. It also opened a panel in my sleeper that accessed a hidden compartment in my trailer. And, it turned on my PA system.

I picked up the PA microphone, cleared my throat, and in as polite a voice as I could muster, I asked, "So who's your friends in the SUV?" There was some laughter followed by some words I didn't quite understand. Then the passenger doors on the SUV opened up and out stepped 6 heavily armed men. They formed a half-moon arc around the front of my truck and began firing at me. I guess they were trying to kill my truck. It's a good thing I had installed bullet-proof glass and panels and run-flats. I let them have their fun, watched them reload, and try again. My radio blurted, "Bubba, you still with us?"

I replied, "I am. I have no idea why they want to kill me so if we can, let's try and keep as many alive as we can until I've had a chance to talk to them." There was a chuckle and then silence. A few seconds later, all 6 men fell flat on their faces as if they had shot in the back of their heads. The SUV attempted to drive away, but the driver too fell forward unconscious. I stepped down from my truck and started towards the remaining 4 men. Again, the 3 men who had been in the cab of the truck but were now standing outside, suddenly collapsed face down in the dirt. I walked towards the man in the bed of the truck and asked him, "why are ya'll trying to kill me?" The man replied, "Because Rosa said to."

Behind me, 4 men, all dressed in camo came walking up carrying rifles. They secured the SUV first and dragged a woman out of it and secured her too. Then they handcuffed all of the men and dragged them together into a semi-straight line. Some of the men were beginning to stir. They had all been knocked unconscious with hard rubber bullets. One of the men approached me and said, "Dammit Bubba, I was getting ready to leave town. What brought all of this on?" I replied, "I don't know Sam. Let's get them identified, put in my truck, and out of here before the cops show up." I walked over to the woman who was sitting on the ground by the front of the SUV.

When I got close enough to see her face, I stopped. It was Rosa. It was the same woman I saw shot in the parking lot yesterday. The same woman I patched up and watched the paramedics cart off to the hospital. I grabbed her by the arm and stood her up. As I walked her to my truck, I said, "Hi Rosa, my name is Bubba. You've got a lot of explaining to do."