Chapter 1
CHAPTER ONE
He zigzagged through the forest, running for his life.
Breathing hard, he took cover behind thickets and bushes, but the men chasing him didn’t let up.
Their voices got louder and angrier, gun reports following their shouts.
Unless he found a sturdy fallen tree branch, he had nothing to fight back with.
He cursed under his breath. In the scuffle to escape the van, he’d dropped his weapon.
The outer edge of the storm reached him. Heavy rain fell, making the ground slick and more treacherous. In the distance, thunder boomed and lightning flashed, briefly illuminating another low clump of vegetation. He scrambled for it.
“There he is!”
Shots followed. He grunted at a burning stab and slapped a hand over the bullet wound in his shoulder.
Staying low, he darted forward. His foot caught in a hole.
Arms flailing, he stumbled forward down a steep decline he hadn’t seen.
He rolled…and rolled…and rolled… His head struck a hard surface.
Pain stabbed his brain. Thick shadows blinded him…
Thunder and a barrage of lightning flashes broke into his consciousness.
A cold, wet feeling teased his nose. He opened his mouth to breathe but inhaled water instead.
His lungs caught and spasmed. Panic struck.
Fighting for air and for his life, he gasped desperately.
In a last-ditch effort to force his lungs to work, he coughed and coughed…
Breathe, please, breathe…
As he was on the edge of passing out, his lungs relaxed, and life-giving oxygen filtered into his system.
Feeling calmer, he tried to make sense of his situation, but a nonstop battery of freezing rain striking him made it difficult to concentrate.
How had he ended up face down in knee-deep water?
Wiping plastered hair from his face to see, he attempted to rise on all fours.
Not so easy. His hands and knees plunged into sucking mud that refused to let him go.
Lightning shattered the darkness with renewed energy. He got a brief view of his surroundings, and his mind spun with even more confusion. Somehow, he’d rolled down an embankment and into a ditch. The heavy, incessant rain had every intention of flooding it.
Get up. Get out. Hurry!
He reached up to the lower edge of the ditch to clamber out. The throbbing pain in his shoulder, head, and leg muscles turned acute. He collapsed onto the mud to collect his thoughts and rest a moment. The soaked decline was too slick. He slid back down into the fast-rising water.
You stay, you drown.
His survival instincts kicked in with a rush of adrenaline. Working through the agony and overwhelming pins and needles, he dug into the slippery, crumbling ground with fingers and knees. He paused to catch his breath when his torso folded over the lip of the ditch onto level grass.
Lightning flashed again, and he craned his neck to see.
A narrow country road bordered with trees appeared before him.
A touch of optimism gave him strength. Folks traveled on roads.
With some luck, he’d soon find help. That is, if a traveler stopped for a man in his condition.
He had to be covered in mud. His shoes were gone, and his clothes were a mess.
What in hell had happened to him? His mind replied with a blank spot.
No idea, no memory, nothing came up, except a brutal, hammering headache.
Resigned to his strange situation, he shuffled on wobbly legs to the left, though the right would’ve been just fine too.
He lost track of time as he stumbled on the cracked road full of tricky puddles.
Seconds ago, he’d stuck his foot in one and nearly fallen again.
Every part of him hurt, and the hammering headache grew unbearable.
Not all was a disaster; he caught a few drops of water to slake his thirst when he opened his mouth.
The storm was moving on. The rain thinned, and the lightning flashed farther away. Distant headlights appeared on the road. Praying his appearance wouldn’t frighten the driver, he managed to wave. A dizzy spell struck him, and he tumbled face down.
Slowly, he opened his eyes and frowned at his blurry vision.
As his sight cleared, he studied his situation.
He lay in a hospital bed with several tubes attached to him and a monitor that beeped rhythmically.
The headache had stopped. He blinked again.
A gray-haired man with a pleasant expression sat on a chair next to the bed. The man smiled at him.
“Welcome back,” the man said.
“Um.” He tried to rise, but acute pain stabbed his shoulder, and the room spun at the same time. The man’s gentle hand pressed him down.
“Easy now. You just woke up.”
“How… Where am I? How long have I been out?”
“I found you two days ago and brought you to the ER. You’ve been going in and out of consciousness,” the man said. “My name’s Petey, by the way. Petey Johnson. What’s yours?”
“I’m…” He frowned. Nothing came up. “I’m…” he repeated, as if that would help with the name. Instead, the effort to think brought back the headache. He sighed, giving up. “I…don’t know.”
Petey gave him a kind smile. “Makes sense. You were in bad shape when I found you.”
“How?”
“You have a nasty blow to the head and a gunshot wound to your shoulder. Looks to me someone wanted you to meet Saint Peter at the Pearly Gates. If I hadn’t run into you, hypothermia would’ve finished the job. The storm brought our first cold front of the fall season.”
“I…can’t thank you…enough,” he murmured, at a complete loss.
“I found you, but the thanks should go to Dr. Moore. He runs the ER here. He did a good job of patching you up. Our sheriff stopped by yesterday, but you were still out of it. I’m sure he’ll come by again today.”
“I wouldn’t know what to say to the sheriff. I can’t remember anything. Not what happened… Not even who I am. Did I have any ID on me?”
“Nope. The important stuff is missing, boy. The sheriff ordered the area where I found you searched.” Petey sighed. “Dr. Moore mentioned you had a fifty-fifty chance of suffering amnesia with the blow to the head and all.”
He stared at the man’s kind, wrinkly face and eyes, and a forlorn sensation gutted his chest. Not a single memory filled in the blanks. The worst feeling of his life.
What life?
“I don’t know what to do.”
“Tell you what,” Petey said. “Recovery comes first. The bump on your head is healing, but your shoulder needs a little longer. Since I found you, I’d like you to come home with me until you’re all recovered.”
“I can’t… That’s not right. You don’t know me at all.” He panted, his heart beat so hard. “I don’t want to take up space in your home. How am I going to repay your kindness? I have no money, no resources. For Chrissakes, I don’t even remember my name.”
“Hush, young man. You’re getting upset. Such excitement ain’t good for your healing.
You’re not an imposition. I live alone. My beautiful Suzie passed years ago, and my daughter, Jenny, is in California.
These days, hospitality is hard to find, but around here, we take care of folks.
’Sides, my instincts have never let me down and I get a good feeling about you.
” He waved a hand. “I don’t need your money.
I’ve plenty. Once you heal, if you still insist on repaying, we can discuss options and come to an agreement. How’s that suit you?”
“You’re very generous, Petey.” He blew out a pained breath. “I can’t ask for a kinder offer. One day, I’ll reward your generosity. I only have one question.”
Petey’s eyes crinkled. “Shoot.”
“Where am I? I mean the town.”
“You’re in the town of Oakwood, Tennessee. Not far from Cherokee Lake.”
Cherokee Lake? That meant nothing to him. It could be Timbuktu. However, a sinking feeling that he’d left an important matter unattended gripped his soul.
“Does that ring a bell?” Petey’s expression was hopeful.
“I wish it did. Not even a little one.”