Letters From the Grave
And once he was at the net, what then? Even if his hands and arms held out, how would he get above the nets? Add to that the wet surfaces and seagull shit on the I-beam ledge under the deck. It was shaping up to be a hopeless option. Unfortunately, it was the only option.
God hates a coward.
He climbed up one more rung, wedging his head against the steel deck above. For one tense moment, his knees buckled from fear, and he almost fell from his perch. He yelled “Aw, shit,” and fell forward away from the pillar, leaping to grab the bottom edge of the nearest beam. His shoulders screamed, nearly dislocating, as his full weight swung below. One hand slipped on the slick surface as he tightened his hold on the other side of the beam. He was dangling precariously a hundred feet above certain death and wasn’t sure he could move. He had no other options.
One hand moved, then the other. He shuffled about three feet with the wind howling through the pillars, trying to toss him aside. “Damn this.” He screamed.
His strength was adequate, but his stamina was questionable. The overhead bars in Army Ranger training were half this distance and the handholds more secure. Visions of Jaws below kept him moving forward as all feeling in his shoulders disappeared. He was exhausted and only a third of the way to the edge. “God, what am I doing here!”
With unknown strength and adrenalin, he kept sliding forward, but halfway there, his right hand slipped on gull droppings. His left hand almost slipped but a bolt of energy shot threw him as he regained his two-handed grip. The rest of the distance to the edge was aided by rust buildup on the beam, helping his grip. He lost all sensation of movement, but somehow reached the mesh at the edge.
Reaching forward with his left hand, he was able to grasp one of the half-inch diameter woven steel cables in the net, which extended about six feet further out. When accidents occurred on the platforms, these mesh nets frequently saved lives. In this case, it was another barrier for him to get above. The stainless rope bit into his fingers as he pulled forward, one rope at a time.
At the outer edge of the mesh, there was a four-inch round pipe frame. He hung on the cable at the edge and began swinging, trying to recall the muscle memory from high school gymnastics when he could do a kip mount on the high bar. It took precise timing with forward swinging momentum combined with a jackknife (pike) move, using stomach muscles that were totally incapable now. With a final heave, he jerked his legs upward, crashing them painfully into the bar. He missed the pullover and his legs felt like hell, but he was determined not to fail after coming this far.
Escape
Callie and Will were heading east through Mississippi, driving both the Buick and Will’s truck. At nightfall, they planned to steal another license plate at a truck stop somewhere along the way and dump his truck when it was safe in Georgia. She liked driving Miss Penworth’s car because it had a big trunk and was comfortable to drive – and it had air-conditioning! But, they were taking a chance, driving with the Texas plates, and she didn’t have a driver’s license. The car had been covered for months at Will’s rental house in Lafayette so no one could tell the make or license on the car. The police were probably not looking for it anymore, but they couldn’t take that chance. It was just plain dumb to be driving a murdered woman’s car without taking some precautions.
She shivered momentarily thinking about poor Corina Penworth. She got nosey according to Will after Callie buried the dog. She wanted to know more about how Callie’s momma and the dog died. Will caught her prowling through their garbage, reading the labels of things they’d thrown out. After enduring the hardships of street life for so long, Callie had become hardened to things that would sicken a normal person. When Will left the trailer late one night, it hadn’t shocked her the next morning when he said he killed Ms. Penworth. Will was capable of anything. He had quietly climbed back into bed some time before dawn, trying not to wake her. He was up at ten o’clock and explained what he’d done casually over a cup of coffee.
Callie needed a car anyway to drive to Mineral Wells and on to Lafayette under Will’s plan. Callie would leave the next morning, driving the Buick, and Will would drive to Louisiana to start his new job. The only part she didn’t like was transporting the body. “Will, you gotta get rid o’ the body! I cain’t do that. What if some cop pulls me over for somethin’.”
He gave her an exaggerated smile. “Well you jus’ offer him a free one.”
“I’m serious Will, it’s freaking me out drivin’ with a body in the car.”
“Well that’s your problem darlin’. You’re in this big time now and there ain’t no way out.”
She tried to argue more, but he left to get dressed and passed her without a word when he left the trailer on his way to Louisiana. Callie was scared and frustrated, but there wasn’t anything she could do. She had to go along with Will’s plan. She’d be dead otherwise.
On the way to visit Julie LaRue in Mineral Wells, the car began to smell. After one day in the hot Texas sun, Ms. Penworth was beginning to decompose in the trunk. Callie needed a remote spot to dispose of the body where she wouldn’t be found. At a crest along U.S. Rt. 180 in the Palo Pinto mountain range, she stopped by the road above a massive ravine filled with Mesquite and other dense shrubs, impassible even for hunters. The view was spectacular, and there were no cars within miles that she could see.
Callie was stronger than her small frame would suggest. When she opened the trunk though, the odor was overpowering. She turned away momentarily and almost threw up. The old lady was rigid in a fetal position. The duct tape around her legs provided a handle for pulling her legs over the trunk ledge. Callie was sickened by touching the body. She struggled to get the rest of the large woman up and over, but fear of being caught gave her additional strength. She glanced briefly at the old lady’s face inside the clear bag taped at the neck and was disgusted by her frozen silent scream and bulging eyes. Tears flowed freely and she was nearly petrified with fear. She dropped the body in the dirt. Will should have used a colored trash bag over her head and Callie closed her eyes dragging the body. Ms. Penworth’s death mask would haunt her forever.
She rolled the stiff body over the ground, then it was relatively easy to push it with her feet to the edge of the cliff. She looked at the sky while pushing her over. Then plop, plop, plop, the body tumbled head over heels until gone lost in the brush below, probably never to be found. The old lady bounced down the deeply cut sides of the ravine, disappearing from sight from sight about half way down. Mother Nature would dispose of the body. She stared into the brush below after the body disappeared, trying to deal with her emotions. She couldn’t move for several minutes without regard for other cars or cops cruising past. She drove on to Mineral Wells with the trunk closed but unlatched, hoping to fumigate it.
After living with Jake for all those months since the horrible trek began, she couldn’t stop feeling deep remorse for stealing from him, and was remembering the turnout in the Texas mountains. She couldn’t believe Will had actually killed Jake. That wasn’t the plan -- how could he do that? Jake was a good man. She hated Will enough to kill him if was in her power.
She was having a flashback about the shocked expression on poor Corina Penworth’s face when Will started flashing his lights, indicating he needed to stop along I-65 north of Mobile. She turned her right blinker on, showing that she got the message. At the exit, they turned right and pulled into a large truck stop, parking in darkness at the edge of the lot.
She stretched from hours behind the wheel when Will walked up. “I jus’ gotta pee. Why don’t you get us somethin’ fried to eat, ‘cuz I’m starving too.”
“All right, Will, but let’s get outta here quick. Just pee, gas and a new license plate.”
“Oh yeah, ‘most forgot the plate. I’ll get it first, then do my duty at the urinal.”
She sighed, “Whatever, dude, just don’t get caught.”
“Why do you think I pa
rked in the dark? I ain’t as stupid as you think.”
She mocked him, “Aw, Will. I don’t think you’re stupid. I’m gonna go inside and get some food. You just do your thing and get the license changed.”
He saluted, “Yes, ma’am!”
“Don’t do that. We don’t need to be attractin’ attention.” She huffed and walked away thinking, Yeah, you’re not as stupid as I think. You defy anyone’s definition of stupidity.
When she came back to the car, he had gone inside to use the restroom. When he returned he was grinning, “See, you all set with a clean plate. Now you don’ have to worry your purdy head ‘bout gettin’ caught.”
“Okay. Well, I need gas. So let’s fill up and get going. I wanna get closer to Atlanta tonight.”
“Why? What’s in Atlanta?
“It’s not what’s in Atlanta, it’s what’s Atlanta’s in. I want to be far away from Louisiana as fast as we can.”
At the pump, she pulled forward so they could both fill up at the same time. She had Jake’s credit card to pay for both tanks. As she finished with the Buick, she checked out the new plate just to be sure her ace mechanic attached it tightly. She was stunned and walked back to him while he still pumped gas into his huge tank. “You