A Pound of Cure (American Wasteland Book 2) Read online

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  Copyright © 2022 Goodwin America Corp.

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  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  All glory, honor, and praise to the King, my Savior, Jesus Christ.

  I would like to thank my fantastic editing team, Catherine Goodwin, Stacey Glemboski, Sherrill Hesler, and Claudine Allison.

  Contents

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  CHAPTER 17

  CHAPTER 18

  CHAPTER 19

  CHAPTER 20

  CHAPTER 21

  CHAPTER 22

  CHAPTER 23

  CHAPTER 24

  CHAPTER 25

  CHAPTER 1

  Mine heart within me is broken because of the prophets; all my bones shake; I am like a drunken man, and like a man whom wine hath overcome, because of the Lord, and because of the words of his holiness. For the land is full of adulterers; for because of swearing the land mourneth; the pleasant places of the wilderness are dried up, and their course is evil, and their force is not right.

  For both prophet and priest are profane; yea, in my house have I found their wickedness, saith the Lord. Wherefore their way shall be unto them as slippery ways in the darkness: they shall be driven on, and fall therein: for I will bring evil upon them, even the year of their visitation, saith the Lord.

  And I have seen folly in the prophets of Samaria; they prophesied in Baal, and caused my people Israel to err. I have seen also in the prophets of Jerusalem an horrible thing: they commit adultery, and walk in lies: they strengthen also the hands of evildoers, that none doth return from his wickedness; they are all of them unto me as Sodom, and the inhabitants thereof as Gomorrah.

  Jeremiah 23:9-14

  BOOM! An earth-shaking explosion jarred Jennifer from her slumber. She reached for the pistol on her bedside table. Before she could get the firearm up, her bedroom door opened with a crash.

  “Gun!” yelled a voice. A blinding white light forced her to close her eyes and turn away from the door. “Drop the weapon!” demanded the voice. “Do it now! Hands on your head!”

  Jennifer had no chance of getting off a shot before the invader killed her. She put the pistol down.

  “Go! Go! Go!” yelled the voice.

  Jennifer saw beams from several weapon-mounted flashlights storm through her bedroom door. A gloved hand grabbed her by the back of her hair and pulled her out of the bed. The invader threw her to the floor. She felt the weight of her assailant’s knee on her back. She struggled to breathe. She felt restraints tighten around her wrists.

  “Get her up!” yelled the voice.

  Her mind was wide awake. But Jennifer’s eyes were still adjusting to the bright lights attached to the guns. She tried not to fall as she was shoved forward through the hall and down the stairs. Large LED lanterns illuminated the main floor.

  Upon arriving in the living room, she saw that her father had already been restrained and taken to the sofa. A black-clad intruder pushed her back and she fell on the couch next to her father.

  Her father stood up and barked at the assailant. “Watch it, jerk!” His insolence was met by a swift strike of a rifle butt to the head. Bob toppled to the floor.

  “Daddy!” Jennifer cried.

  With his hands bound behind his back, Bob wriggled to his knees. “I’m okay. Don’t say anything. We’ll get a lawyer. I’ll call Tom Bradford. He’s the best in the county.”

  One of the assailants pulled his black ski mask off of his face revealing his devilish grin. “You people crack me up. Those days are over. We don’t do Miranda rights and all of that. This is a new world order. We ask questions and you answer. If you don’t feel like talking, we make your life a living hell until you do.”

  “He’s bluffing,” said Bob.

  “Try me!” the man snarled.

  “Who are you people anyway?” Jennifer watched as Francesca and Helena were escorted down the stairs by still more of the uniformed goons.

  The man spoke with a false gleefulness. “Federal Emergency Security Administration. We’re the enforcement arm of FEMA. And I’m Commander Todd Kravitz. I’ll be your tour guide through the deepest darkest sewers of Hades until you tell me what I want to know.” His expression soured as he looked up at the other agents congregating in the living room. “Where’s McIntosh?”

  “Not here, sir,” said one of the minions.

  Kravitz grabbed Jennifer by the throat. He squeezed so that she could barely breathe. “Where is Lucas McIntosh?”

  Bob sprung from the couch and head-butted Kravitz in the nose. Three of the other agents tackled Bob. Kravitz wiped his nose with his hand to see blood oozing from the right nostril. “Stand him up,” Kravitz hissed.

  The soldiers brought Bob Martin to his feet. Kravitz punched him in the face.

  “Daddy!” Jennifer tried to stand but was quickly apprehended by a nearby agent.

  Kravitz pummeled Bob’s face repeatedly until blood streamed from Bob’s nose, mouth, and a cut above his eye. Kravitz seemed to grow tired and landed a final volley of blows into Bob’s stomach. “Stupid redneck. Let him go.”

  The agents who had been holding Bob let him fall to the floor.

  “Oh, Daddy!” Jennifer sobbed.

  Kravitz sneered at his men. “Who are the other two?”

  One of the men held the IDs of Helena and Francesca. “This one is the wife of the dead man we found outside the house in Atlanta, Adam Fields.”

  “What about the other one?”

  “Francesca Gilbert,” answered the agent.

  “Do we have anything tying her to the skirmish?” Kravitz asked.

  “No, sir,” the agent said. “Not until we dump the location data on the phones.”

  “Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s move! I’ve got a hundred more scumbags just like these we have to hunt down.” Kravitz clapped his hands to get his team moving.

  “We’ve only located one phone so far,” said another agent. “It was on the bedside next to that one.” He pointed to Francesca.

  “Dump it. The rest of you keep searching,” demanded Kravitz. “Have you found the guns used in the skirmish?”

  “Not yet,” said one of them. “Just a deer rifle, a couple of shotguns, and a few pistols.”

  “Keep looking! Look outside, in the barn, in the vehicles, the attic, tear this place apart!” Kravitz scre
amed.

  One of the agents opened a Toughbook laptop on the coffee table. He attached Francesca’s phone via a USB cable. Kravitz looked over the agent’s shoulder. “What have you got?”

  “Last known location in Atlanta was 905 Juniper. That was on July 19th. Then the device was dark until Sunday the 24th.”

  “Dark? Do you mean powered off? Can’t you still pull location data?” Kravitz grimaced at the computer screen.

  “Dark as in shielded,” the agent replied.

  “The skirmish was on the 20th. Isn’t that convenient?” Kravitz scowled at the three girls. “You all think you’re so smart. You ditched your phones, except the one that went dark. You stashed your weapons. But we’ll get to the bottom of this. I promise you that. We’ll find the guns and we’ll find Lucas McIntosh.”

  ***

  More than an hour passed with the agents ripping vents out of the wall, emptying cupboards, and cutting up upholstered furniture. Jennifer’s main concern was for her father. Bob was conscious but severely injured. His face continued to swell from the harsh beating he’d endured.

  Jennifer felt terrible for bringing this trouble to his door. Francesca and Helena both looked frightened. Neither of them said a word.

  The agents finally gave up the search. Three of them came back inside. One of the three addressed Kravitz. “We’ve turned this place upside down, boss. McIntosh is nowhere to be found. No phones, no guns, nothing.”

  Another agent said, “We’ve got nothing to hold them on. Should I cut them loose?”

  Kravitz snapped. “No! We’re not cutting them loose! I told Deal we’d find the people responsible for the attack on the troops and that is precisely what I intend to do!”

  The man looked at his fellow agents for support. None of them spoke out. He lowered his gaze. “I understand, sir. What should I put on the paperwork to justify detainment?”

  “Do I have to do everything around here?” Kravitz snapped. “She was engaged to one of the assailants.” He pointed to Jennifer then to Helena. “And this one was married to one of them. Put down that they’re known associates of domestic terrorists. We can hold them for forty-eight hours on that. In the meantime, start combing all of their social media posts.

  “When we get them back to the op center, put them in separate interrogation cells. Whoever cracks first gets a free pass. The other one will get the chair for murder and terrorism.”

  Jennifer looked over at Helena. “Don’t say anything. All we have to do is hold out for forty-eight hours.”

  “Get her out of here!” Kravitz shouted.

  A muscle-bound gorilla of an agent grabbed Jennifer by the arm and shoved her toward the door.

  Her heart raced as she was roughly escorted out of her father’s house and thrown into the back of an armored vehicle. She prayed that Helena would stick to the story they had rehearsed and not buckle under the pressure they were sure to endure.

  ***

  Jennifer squinted and turned her head away from the harsh flood light directed toward her face. Her hands and feet were cuffed to a folding metal chair in a musty motel. The light blinded her to most of the surroundings, but she could tell the room was cheap by the scent.

  She could not see Kravitz standing behind the superfluously bright bulb, but she could hear his voice.

  “Make this easy on yourself, Ms. Martin. Tell us where we can find Lucas McIntosh. I also need a full confession concerning your involvement in the attack against the uniformed soldiers outside of Atlanta.”

  Lucas had warned Jennifer not to answer. He’d instructed her to not even deny the charges but simply to keep her mouth shut. She said nothing.

  Kravitz continued. “Ms. Martin, you’re going to talk to me. It’s never going to be easier than it is right now.”

  Lucas had also warned her the questioning could get brutal, but he said it would pass. He’d urged her to leave her father’s house, to find somewhere else to lay low. She’d hoped Lucas was wrong about the government looking for her. I should have listened. I should have gone somewhere else.

  Kravitz spoke in a cool, even tone. “Since you’ve decided to stay silent, let me tell you how this is going to go. We’ll start with some very effective enhanced interrogation techniques. We’ll ratchet up the pressure until you break.

  “I know right now you think you can hold out. You’re thinking that if you can only make it for forty-eight hours, you’ll be home free. That’s not true. If you don’t break, Mrs. Fields most certainly will. Then you’ll be mine until you die a horrible death, either in the electric chair or rotting away in some frigid cement hole in the ground.

  “You should also know that we pulled your father’s phone records. You called him from Stone Mountain days after murdering US military personnel. Stone Mountain is in the vicinity of your crime. That makes your father a person of interest. I’ll be bringing him in for questioning as well. I doubt he’ll crack under interrogation but you can bet I’ll enjoy the process.

  “Keep in mind, you can end all of this, whenever you’re ready. And, if you’re the lucky winner who confesses first, you’ll go home today. If Mrs. Fields is the first to break, you’ll never see Daddy again. And your pain, your suffering, your torment will go on and on and on and on.

  “So do yourself a favor. Tell me where I can find Lucas McIntosh.”

  Jennifer said nothing.

  “Okay,” Kravitz said. “Agent Bowles, Agent Smith, let’s take our guest to the bathroom so we can get started. Shall we?”

  The men did not speak but Jennifer felt the cuffs being removed from her hands and feet. Her wrists were cuffed behind her back and two strong hands grabbed each of her arms. The men took her to the bathroom and laid her on a bench. Her heart pounded with fear. She wondered what was about to happen. She wondered if Helena was experiencing the same treatment. She wondered if Helena could hold out. For a moment, Jennifer considered telling Kravitz what he wanted to know. But the moment passed and she readied herself to endure whatever they were about to do to her.

  She saw the faces of her tormentors. Both looked like they lifted weights and took steroids. Smith was older, with a thin face and slicked-back hair. Bowles had a buzzcut and a protruding jawline. Using thick belts, they restrained her to the bench facing up. She could see the shower head above her and knew the bench was half inside the bathtub. A green garden hose had been pulled through the window. Evidently, her kidnappers had a gravity-fed water tank outside the motel. She could hear the hum of a generator nearby. She guessed the entire motel was being powered for their operation. Smith turned on the hose. She could hear the water going into a plastic container. Bowles took a hand towel and wrapped it over her face.

  Lucas had taught her to hyperventilate in case of being waterboarded. Intentionally hyperventilating would saturate her lungs with oxygen. She felt panicky. Her breathing was quick without added effort. She listened for Smith to raise the container. She heard the water turn off. She held her breath.

  The cold water ran over her face. Instantly, she felt as if she were drowning. The water stopped. She tried to take a breath, but water from the wet towel went into her mouth. She coughed violently.

  “Are you ready to talk?” Kravitz asked.

  She said nothing. Instead, once the coughing had ceased, she took small breaths through her nose to ready herself for the next round of torture. It came. Once again, she felt as though she would suffocate. Smith poured the water even longer. Again, she took water into her mouth and choked. The interrogators repeated this process over and over.

  Jennifer wanted the agony and panic to stop. Her heart was racing as if she were in a marathon. She felt sure she would not survive. If I die, I’ll be home, with Jesus, with Cameron. It will all be over.

  But she did not die. It was not over. The torture continued for a long time.

  When the waterboarding finally ended, Kravitz asked her one more time, “Will you tell me what I want to know?”

  She did not answe
r.

  “Put her in the tub,” said Kravitz.

  Jennifer didn’t know what to expect. Lucas had not briefed her on any techniques requiring her to be put in a bathtub. She feared they were about to kill her.

  Smith and Bowles removed the cuffs and straps keeping her on the bench. They restrained her feet together and put her face down in the bathtub. They closed the drain and began filling the tub with the hose. Jennifer was terrified. Bowles held her down by pressing her wrists. She fought to keep her head up enough to breathe.

  Next, Smith brought a wooden board into the room. It had been cut to fit over the tub, reaching from side to side and from the bottom almost to the top. Bowles held her down while Smith placed the board over the tub. She heard them placing objects on top of the board. The objects were to serve as weights, she suspected.

  She was mostly submerged in the water. It was dark. She was cold. It was silent.

  CHAPTER 2

  I cried by reason of mine affliction unto the Lord, and he heard me; out of the belly of hell cried I, and thou heardest my voice. For thou hadst cast me into the deep, in the midst of the seas; and the floods compassed me about: all thy billows and thy waves passed over me. Then I said, I am cast out of thy sight; yet I will look again toward thy holy temple.The waters compassed me about, even to the soul: the depth closed me round about, the weeds were wrapped about my head. I went down to the bottoms of the mountains; the earth with her bars was about me for ever: yet hast thou brought up my life from corruption, O Lord my God.

  Jonah 2:2-6

  Jennifer brought her head out of the water. She’d fallen asleep in the tub. She coughed for several minutes, spitting and clearing her lungs. She pushed against the wooden board trapping her inside. It was no use. The board would not budge. “Get me out of here!” she screamed.

  No one replied.