"That's odd," Grace said. "Have you tried walking around to the outside of the house and looking in the window?"

  "Good thinking," Pete said.

  I shook my head. "There’s no time. Watch out."

  I backed up, then stormed towards the door, completely ignoring the pain in my foot, then slammed my shoulder into the door, using all my weight.

  I went straight through the wood. The door stayed connected at the hinges, but all the wood cracked and I fell to the carpet inside the room.

  "Well, there’s another thing they’ve been lying about in the movies," I said and looked at my arm where a dozen splinters had entered under the skin.

  "Julia?" I called, but the room was empty. "She's not here?"

  "She must have left," Grace said, and looked at Steve like she expected him to know more or at least agree with her. They were a funny couple, the two of them, never liked to be apart; one couldn't do anything without the other. And they agreed on everything. If there ever were such a thing as a soul mate, I'd say Grace had definitely found hers.

  Steve nodded.

  "Where would she go in this darkness?" Pete asked.

  "As far away from me as possible," I said. "Just like when she was younger. Remember the time we fought about that boyfriend of hers, what was his name again?" I asked Grace.

  "Bryan," she said with a shiver.

  "Remember how I told her she couldn't go away with him on that road trip?" I said. "Remember what she did?"

  "Jumped out the window and was gone for two days. I think we all remember that a little too well."

  "She went with him anyway?" Pete asked.

  "No. Julia would never defy me like that. She’s way too much of a people pleaser. No, she went to a friend's house, whose parents were out of town, and stayed the entire weekend. Made me fry a little. She knew I would go crazy with worry."

  "See, it's those types of things I would have liked to be there for," Pete said. "I would have liked to be able to know those things, to tell those kinds of tales, to be able to say, Oh, remember when she did that and this or no, she would never do that, that's not her type of thing…you deprived me of that."

  Grace looked at me. "What? What's he talking about, Mom?"

  I exhaled deeply. "Now is not the time, Pete. Now is so not the time."

  I walked out of the room, then rushed to the door.

  "Where are you going?" Pete asked.

  "It's about time I make things right again," I said, and I opened the door and left.

  Chapter 82

  "So, where are we going?"

  Billy looked at Danielle next to him as the car returned to the road.

  "The pipeline."

  "I might need a little more than that," Billy said. "I ain't from around here, remember?"

  "Right," Danielle said. She looked cute, even though her face was torn in distress. "It's right outside of town. I'll show you the way."

  "You do that," Billy said and stepped on the gas pedal. There were no other cars anywhere to be seen, so he went a lot faster than the allowed thirty-five miles per hour.

  "How's she doing back there?" he asked and looked in the rearview mirror. Emily looked back at him. She was pale and frightened.

  "I don't know," Emily said. "She's still crying and shaking."

  "I promise we'll make this fast," he said, "and then we'll all get out of here. Right away. At least we're getting out of town, right?" He turned to look at Danielle. She crossed her long legs and then bit her nails nervously.

  "So tell me, why are you going to the pipeline?"

  "My husband," she said. "I haven't heard from him since this afternoon. He’s never late and he always answers his phone."

  "He works the pipeline?"

  Billy had heard about the pipeline from the local news while waiting for their car to be fixed. He had seen the protesters get hosed with water and shot with rubber bullets, causing them to bruise really badly. One girl had her arm broken by some violent cop. There was only one thing Billy hated more than police brutality and that was husband-brutality.

  Was that even a word? Who cares?

  "He is in charge of it, yes," she said.

  "So, he’s not actually working on it," Billy said with a grin. "Like running the machines that dig it or anything like that. He doesn’t get his hands dirty."

  Danielle didn't answer. She looked out the window at the darkness. Billy focused on driving. He really liked this girl, but also knew she was way out of his league. Besides, she was married. It was no use. He didn't stand a chance. He still liked to be able to help her out. Made him feel good.

  "Turn right down here," she said, anxiously.

  As they approached the area, Danielle found it hard to sit still in her seat. "What are all these trees doing here?" she asked. "There didn't used to be trees here. It's like a forest?"

  She looked at Billy like she expected him to have the answers. He shrugged as Danielle opened the glove compartment.

  "Do you have a flashlight?" she asked.

  “I have one in my pocket,” he said, then reached down and pulled it out. As he did something else fell out. It was a necklace. She grabbed it and glanced at him with a strange look on her face.

  "What's this?"

  Billy looked at it quickly, then back at the road. He shrugged. "I don't know. Probably Darlene's." He blushed but hoped she didn't see it. The necklace was one of the things he and Darlene had stolen from one of the houses in town. He had forgotten it was there. He had stuck it in his pocket, he didn't remember when, probably when he was drunk, and then forgot about it.

  "It's nothin'."

  She lifted the necklace into the air, then turned on the light in the car.

  "Nothing?" she said.

  Ahead of them, they approached a row of trees; it looked like the beginning of a very dense forest or maybe even a swamp.

  "What the…?"

  "Nothing?" she repeated. "This necklace is nothing? Well, let me tell you something, mister, it is not nothing to me. This is my necklace. See the initials? Those are my grandmother's initials. And, guess what? You know what’s really funny? This necklace was stolen from me a few days ago, when someone broke into our house, along with a bunch of my other jewelry. Now, how would you explain that, huh?"

  "Dang it." Billy hit the brakes hard and they all flew forward. He stopped right in front of the trees.

  "Why are we stopping here?" Danielle asked.

  "Because the road stops here," he said.

  "Nonsense. It continues a lot further down, to a huge area that is completely cleared of all trees and bushes. There are a couple of trailers there. My husband works in the biggest one of them."

  Billy turned off the light inside the car, then reached over and grabbed the flashlight. He shone the beam of light in front of them, in between the trees.

  "You mean like this one?"

  Danielle leaned forward. "Yeah, that trailer up in that tree looks just like it, but…"

  "I sure hope your husband wasn't inside of it when that huge branch shot through the window or when it was lifted off the ground."

  Chapter 83

  I got into my truck. It was still parked there since the day I had come to Pete's house and decided to go on a road trip with him. It felt good to be back behind the wheel of the old lady and I was very pleased when it roared to a start. As always, I had left the keys inside of it. It was a habit I had always had since I could never find my keys if they weren't in that spot. We didn't have many car thieves around here, and I figured if they wanted to steal my truck they didn't need the keys. They would find some other way. That was how most people around here thought. Besides, I can't remember the last time a car was stolen in Webster.

  Come to think of it, I could. It was in '01 when Bryan, Julia's old flame from back when she went through her bad-boy phase (we all have one, right?), stole the mayor's truck with some friends and took it for a joyride. Sheriff Ivan later found it parked in the middle of the street downtown, doors wide open, and fumes still leaving it from all the pot they smoked inside it. Bryan and his friends earned themselves twenty hours of community service around town and got to wash and vacuum all the town's cars.

  That was some day.

  My old truck had never let me down. She always started and today was no different. As the headlights came on, I stared into the darkness between the trees ahead of me and wondered about Julia. Had she simply run out? Into the darkness? Why not take a car at least? She could have taken the truck or maybe Pete's minivan. Where was she?

  While I was at it, I worried about Danielle as well as I backed out of the long dirt road leading to Pete's house. I knew she had gone to find Allen but was she going to be all right? Was he?

  "First things first," I told myself and swung the truck into the road. "They are both big girls and can take care of themselves."

  I floored the truck and it roared as I drove down the road. I had the town in my rearview mirror, or rather what was left of it because all I could see was a dense forest.

  "I sure hope people got out in time," I mumbled, as I took a turn and rushed down another dirt road.

  A farmhouse rose in front of me in the headlights of my truck. It seemed to have survived Mother Nature's long claws so far. The gravel creaked underneath the truck's tires as I swung up in front of the main building. I got out and ran up the stairs to the front door, then knocked.

  "Hello? Bubba?"

  Bubba was the owner of the Farmer's Supply store on Main Street. He was also the owner of the biggest orange grove in the area. His real name was Robert, but everyone referred to him as Bubba. It was a name that had stuck with him since childhood.

  "Bubba? You home?"

  His truck's not here. Maybe he’s out of town. Maybe he fled in time.

  I decided it didn't matter where Bubba went, then ran to his barn and pulled the heavy door open. I turned on the light. It flickered a few times before it finally turned on and I laid my eyes the big tractor that I had seen Bubba use in his fields. To my great joy, I saw that the spray rig was already mounted on. And it was filled up, ready to go.

  I opened the door and climbed up, and found the keys under the mat. Everyone around here knew that the keys to a tractor or other heavy machinery were to be put under the mat, whereas the keys to a car should be in the cup holder. The keys to a house should be under a rock or a potted plant no more than five feet from the actual door. It was just the way it was. No one locked their doors anyway. Not to their houses nor to their cars or their tractors.

  I turned the key in the ignition and the tractor rumbled underneath me. I had never driven one on my own, so it was a first, but I had often been with my dad when he drove one. How hard could it be?

  I pressed the clutch pedal down to the floor with my left foot, engaged the brake with my right, released the tractor's parking brake, and slowly lifted my foot off the clutch. Gradually, the tractor moved forward, creaking and rumbling, dragging the spray rig loaded with Roundup behind it.

  A smile spread across my lips at the sweet prospect of revenge.

  Mother Nature was going down.

  Chapter 84

  "I'm getting out."

  Danielle opened the door to the passenger seat and stepped outside. Billy followed her. He slammed the door behind him and left the teenage girls alone in the back seat. Danielle walked with determined steps towards the row of thick-trunked tall trees. Billy had only seen trees like that in California, never in Florida. In the darkness, it looked like they reached all the way to the stars.

  Danielle stopped. "You don't have to follow me," she said. "I can easily take it from here."

  Billy looked around him. Four trailers were pinned to trees, dangling in the air above the area. One had a tree shot up straight through it.

  "What do you mean you can take it from here? There isn't anyone here, Danielle. Look around."

  They could only really see what the car's lights were shining on, but it was easy to imagine that there weren't just a few trees; this was a dense forest.

  "It's okay," she growled. "You don't have to help me anymore. I'm fine. I'll find him myself."

  "Listen, Danielle. I know you're mad at me for…well because of the necklace, but I’m not leaving you out here."

  She turned with a snort. "Well, you're gonna have to. My husband is in there somewhere and I’m afraid he might be in trouble. I have to find him. He’ll make sure to get me home safely."

  "Come on, Danielle. Be reasonable here. We can come back when it’s light and you can see. You can't go in there in this darkness, Danielle. Especially not alone. You must have lost your mind."

  "Well, maybe I have," she said and turned away. "What do you care anyway? What's it to you?"

  "What's it to me? What's it to me? Well, I'll tell you…"

  He pointed his finger at her while he spoke, but had to stop himself because he didn't have an explanation. He could hardly tell her he liked her, now could he? "It's…it's common…decency."

  "Decency?" Danielle laughed. "What do you know about decency? You're a common thief."

  "As opposed to your wonderful husband, I assume? Who is busy stealing the Natives’ land, destroying their water supplies, and digging holes all over their holy land? Tell me who is decent here. You can dress it in a suit and tie all you wish, but a thief is a thief."

  Thinking he wasn't going to spend more time on her, Billy turned around and walked back to the car.

  "That's right," Danielle yelled after him. "You get out of here before I call the cops on you."

  Billy didn't even want to yell anything back; he got into the car and started to back up. He swung the car around and left Danielle in complete darkness.

  "Where’s Danielle?" Emily asked.

  "She wanted me to leave her here."

  "You're not gonna do it, are you?"

  Billy sighed. His foot was on the accelerator, vibrating indecisively, ready to press down, ready to go, like a racehorse in its box before a race.

  "Dad? Tell me you're not even thinking about leaving her out here."

  Billy looked at the dark the road ahead, then exhaled.

  "Of course not."

  He swung the car around, but when the headlights hit the trees again, Danielle was gone.

  Chapter 85

  The tractor rumbled and rustled and made its way out of the barn and into the farm's courtyard. The spray rig was wiggling along behind me as I drove it down the dirt road towards the street when a car came towards me. I spotted it too late and it had to drive off the road so I wouldn't hit it.

  I finally managed to stop, then looked out behind me and spotted Pete. He had jumped out of the car and was running towards me, hands lifted, waving in the air. The light from his car's headlights shone on him.

  "Stop! Patty, Stop!"

  "Pete?"

  Pete approached me, panting heavily.

  "What are you doing here?"

  He was catching his breath. I looked down at him. "You could have killed me there, do you realize that?"

  "Well, you shouldn't be driving out here in the darkness. I didn't see you. Besides, you were going way too fast."

  "Was not. I was going at a perfect average speed. You mean to tell me you didn't see my headlights or hear my desperate honking?"

  "I can't hear anything up here," I said with a chuckle.

  "You really shouldn't be driving a tractor in the darkness, then," he said. "Why are you driving a tractor?"

  He looked behind it and spotted the spray rig. Then shook his head. "Is that…is that what I think it is?"

  I shrugged. "I’m not a mind reader."

  His head wouldn't stop shaking. "Oh, no, you don't."

  "Oh, yes, I am."

  He exhaled, annoyed. He stomped his foot. "Why do you always have to be so stubborn? There is no way you're doing this."

  "Yes, there is."

  He was about to explode. Pete clenched both his fists and raised them in the air while growling loudly. "No, you're not, Patty. I can't let you do this. We have destroyed nature enough as it is. Look at where it brought us?"

  "I don't care, Pete. My grandson is out there; he is lonely, scared, tired, and hungry. There is no way he is spending another night in those swamps. I am getting him back. You can't stop me."

  Pete shook his head and lifted his pointer finger with a no-no-no. "There has to be another way. I am not letting you do this."

  I chuckled. "Well, try and stop me."

  Pete scoffed. "Okay, then."

  I started the tractor up again as Pete walked away. I poked my head out. "What are you doing, Pete?"

  "Stopping you."

  "Pete, stop it. You're being ridiculous."

  In the headlights from the tractor, I spotted Pete as he sat down in the middle of the road, legs crossed, arms in front of his chest. He reminded me of those Native Americans protesting on TV, except he didn't seem as peaceful.

  "Pete, this is stupid."

  "You're stupid," he answered.

  What is he, five?

  "Get out of my way, Pete. I swear, I'll run you over."

  "No, you won't. You love me, remember? We kissed."

  I laughed. "You think I love you because we kissed?"

  "Yes. I think you love me and I think I love you too. I think I always have."

  "You sure know how to pick a romantic moment to tell me," I said, rolling my eyes. Still, I couldn't stop smiling. I think I did love him, I knew I did, I knew I always had.

  "Well, that's too bad. Pete," I said and got back in my seat, ready to continue. "Because it could have been really beautiful."

  "You're not gonna do it," he said, but I could hear wavering in his voice. "You wouldn't run me over. He hesitated for a second, then added, "Would you?"

  I stuck my head out and looked at him angrily. "Pete! I do love you, but when it comes to choosing between you and my grandson, I will always choose him. So get up, get in, or get run over."