A Powerless World | Book 3 | Defend The Homestead Hunt, Jack (read my book TXT) 📖

grip and Nina bounced off him, scowling and rubbing her arms. She approached her father, seeking comfort, maybe a word that it would be okay.

“Dad, what are they doing here?”

“It’s okay, Nina. Everything is going to be okay.”

“I want them out of my house. Now!”

None of them moved an inch. The storm door creaked open again, and a large burly man walked in with a leather case. He had a white beard and was wearing a black jacket and a bowler hat. She immediately recognized him as the family doctor, but he wasn’t your typical doctor, he’d been brought in on numerous occasions to deal with gunshot wounds, and even had to remove a gangrenous leg. “Where would you like to do this?” he asked.

“Do what? Dad, what is going on?”

“Take her to the backroom,” Hank said. When no one moved he said it again in a firm tone. “Boys. Don’t make me ask again.”

Several of her cousins grabbed Nina and peeled her away from Samuel, dragging her down the hallway. “Dad? Dad! No. No. Don’t do this.”

“It will be okay. Don’t fight it, Nina.”

“No. No! I won’t let you.”

Seth watched from the doorway as four of his brothers held Nina down on the bed and the doctor entered, closing the door behind him. He could hear her screaming for her father but Samuel didn’t listen. He turned and walked out, his head bowed ever so slightly. He knew it was the right thing to do. They couldn’t have that abomination in their family, a tie to the Rikers. Hank blew out his cheeks and gave a nod of approval to Seth, thanking him. Seth felt his chest swell with pride once again. After the ass whopping his father had given him, it felt good to be back in his good books. This was worth it. This was a win for the Stricklands. He hadn’t just thrown Jessie under the bus, this was far more than that. He had corrected a wrong long before it would ever be born.

What he did now, he did for Nina.

Jessie led the armed militia to the back of Alby’s home. “You better not be leading us on a wild goose chase, son.” Jessie fished around in the tall grass for the rusty hand crank. He found it and inserted it into the garage wall and began to turn. Slowly but surely the pulley system kicked in and the old banged-up vehicle with four flat tires began to move, sliding back to reveal the concrete steps.

“Well, look at that,” Evans said in amazement. “You Rikers are sneaky bastards, aren’t you?” His eyes widened and a grin formed. “Makes me wonder what else you’re hiding.” Once it was fully open, Evans nudged Jessie down the steps into the darkness. One of them turned a flashlight on and illuminated the way. It still smelled as bad as ever down there. Damp, greasy, and full of grime.

When they made it to the bottom, the flashlight beam drifted across the ground to a pallet. But the gold was gone. No, no, Jessie thought.

His eyes roamed. All the rifles. All the boxes of ammo. It was all gone.

“Where are they, son?”

“It was all here. I swear. It was right here,” he said, jabbing a finger at the pallet.

Captain Evans took a deep breath. “Do I look stupid?”

Jessie lifted a forearm to block the glare of the flashlight beam that was now pointing directly in his eyes. “Do I?” Evans bellowed.

“Someone must have taken it. It was here the day they took Alby in. Maybe the cops confiscated it. Yeah, that has to be it. Ask Dan. Ask him.”

Evans walked over and placed a hand around the back of his neck. “I’m not asking him. I’m asking YOU!” He squeezed tight and threw him across the room. His body collided with a metal shelf and it came down on top of him. “Get him outside,” Evans said, climbing the steps while his men pulled the shelving off him and dragged him out. As soon as he was out in the brightness of day, Evans set his rifle down and got on the radio. Forced to his knees, Jessie listened as Evans ran the question by Dan Wilder.

“I’m at Alby’s. Rifles? Gold? Where are they?”

The conversation went back and forth. Evans mentioned the storage area underneath the garage. Dan told him they’d taken in Alby but found nothing at his house. He had no clue about some secret storage area. A look of anger spread on Evans while he nodded. He never took his eyes off Jessie for even a second.

“Where are you now, Evans?” Dan barked.

He didn’t answer him. Evans simply turned off the radio, then removed his shirt, cracked his head from side to side, and balled his fists, readying to unleash a beating he would never forget.

“My family is going to kill you,” Jessie said.

Evans flashed his pearly whites. “Maybe. But not today.”

Chapter Fourteen

Seeing Dakota Moon again felt like coming home. Colby often felt closer to him than his own brothers. Like him, Dakota had changed a lot in ten years. He’d put on some weight, his long black hair had a few gray hairs but his skin still had a healthy glow.

At six foot three inches and roughly two hundred and twenty pounds, Dakota towered over most. Back when he was a teenager, he would drop down slightly on his left leg just so he didn’t feel so out of place in photos. Now, those small insecurities were gone. He stood tall and proud.

Dakota beamed, a smile that could win the heart of anyone. He approached them inside the community center at the heart of the reservation wearing a jean shirt, with a black T-shirt that had different indigenous symbols on it.

“Colby Riker. The man. The myth. The legend,” he said before he hugged him. “Man, it’s good to see you again.” The welcome felt genuine, heartfelt. There was nothing false about him or the Wiyot