His Last Wife

Val felt like she was about to faint.

“They’re here for us. They’re looking for us!” Kerry said. “What are we going to do?”

“Get the fuck out of here!” Val went into action, turning the car on and pulling off, but she kept the car off the road and in the dirt, where it was still partially covered by trees dangling over from the woods. There was popping and the sound of pieces of fallen wood breaking under the car.

Kerry leaned forward and looked out the front window to keep her eyes on the helicopter, which was coming in and out of view and seemed to be getting lower.

“How did they know we’re here?” Kerry shouted. “How’d they know how to find us?”

“I’m not trying to find out!” Val pushed her foot down harder on the gas and swerved back into the road.

“Oh, my God! You think they know? They know we were at that house and they’re looking for us? They think we killed those people!”

The helicopter crisscrossed the road again, but it had turned and was heading in the opposite direction of them, leading back toward the cabin.

“Maybe we should just stop. Just pull over and stop and let them know what happened? What we saw?” Kerry went on, looking out the back window.

Just then, Val saw the last remaining markings of an old wagon road that was covered with new grass and weeds. She made a sharp right that sent Kerry flying toward her in the front seat. Both women screamed, but Val never let up off the gas.

The forgotten road led deep, deep, deep into the woods, where there was a solid canopy of trees tenting the forest floor. Val and Kerry looked out either side of the car at uninterrupted green. The woods were so dense it was quickly night around them.

“Where does this road lead?” Kerry asked.

“I don’t know. Probably to another road and then another road,” Val said, slowing down and stopping the car. She turned off the ignition and listened. “You hear the helicopter anymore?”

Kerry had been listening too and she replied, “No.”

“This is crazy,” Val whispered like the forest had ears. “What’s happening? Why are they looking for us?”

Kerry didn’t answer, so Val turned to her and saw Kerry’s suggestive look.

“Not that again,” Val said and shook her head. “Don’t go there with that hocus-pocus black Negro spiritual crap again. That had nothing to do with this.”

Kerry rested her elbow on the door console and averted her eyes.

“What?” Val pressed. “What? You’re thinking it again—aren’t you? You really are fucked up in the head.”

“Do you have anything better?” Kerry grumbled. “Any other reason why everyone around us keeps getting killed or dying or killing someone else? Do you have a better explanation than the one I’ve come up with?”

“No, I don’t have anything else,” Val said, looking out the window on her side of the car. “But that doesn’t mean I should just pick up and believe this. It’s just a bunch of blogs written by angry black folks who spend all day and night trying to come up with new ways to make us hate this country. They have no proof. It’s just lies.”

“What if there is proof? What if I can get you proof?” Kerry asked.

“How are you going to do that?”

“This man I’ve been e-mailing, Baba Seti, he said if I come see him, he can explain everything. He said he can take me to Jamison.”

“No, Kerry. That doesn’t even sound right.”

“Again, do you have anything better?” Kerry turned to Val and held up her hands. “People are dying. Helicopters are flying around. And we don’t even know if they’re looking for us. Or if they want to kill us too,” Kerry said sharply. “We can’t exactly just go home. We might as well go there and at least find out. See what he’s talking about. Let’s just lay low until we can get a little bit of information. Something.”

Val made a silent decision about Kerry’s plea. She only started the car again and pushed down on the accelerator.

She was right. That one road led to another road and then that road led to the next. Soon, they were out on the highway and headed back to Atlanta. No helicopters in sight.

Chapter 13

Night was new once the Jaguar with the new red country clay caked to its tires and underbelly got off of the Lee Street highway exit in the heart of the West End. The sky was a dusty gray-blue with faint twinkles promising stars dotted just above the tallest buildings.