Chapter 13
Tank
Though I’m exhausted and this has been a long day to end all long days, I dutifully follow Chevy past the outdoor patio area of Backwoods Bar. It looks like it’s had a little bit of an upgrade.
I don’t spend much time out here, but I can tell the metal shed-like building has been freshly painted a gunmetal gray.
I remember the area out back looking messy, with mismatched camping chairs scattered around on an uneven dirt clearing.
Now, as we walk around the building the area is wider and more defined, with pea gravel instead of dirt, crisscrossed by the same kind of lights I hung over Main Street.
Brightly painted wooden picnic tables and Adirondack chairs surround a stone fire pit, and some leafy plants fill wood barrel planters.
There’s even a wood-plank dance floor under the overhang of a tree with a small raised stage nearby. It’s downright cozy.
I’m not the only one who notices the changes.
“Looks like Wolf’s been busy,” Collin says, appraising the area. “Feels like it was just yesterday Pat got into a fight with some locals in this very spot, and we were all getting arrested.”
“Does that count as our meet cute?” Chevy asks, levity entering his voice for the first time tonight.
“Having Wolf spray us down with a fire hose wasn’t cute,” James grumbles. “Neither was spending the night in jail while soaking wet.”
“I also don’t think Pat thought Wolf proposing to Lindy was cute,” Collin says.
Winnie laughs. “I forgot all about that! Feels like a lifetime ago. I can’t believe how much has changed in a year.”
“Wolf and Lindy were dating?” Kyoko asks, looking shocked.
“Nope,” Val says. “The proposal was more … wishful thinking? Or maybe misguided thinking. With a marching band. I think he was lonely and Lindy was struggling on her own, and he just thought it made sense. When Wolf goes all-in, he goes all-in.”
“That sounds like quite the night. Did anyone get pictures? A video?” Kyoko asks hopefully.
“Sadly, no,” Winnie says. “I did save the Neighborly post about it though. It’s classic. Remind me and I’ll show you later.”
“I’d also like to see that,” I tell her with a wink. “It looks like Wolf decided to go all-in on his bar. Looks good.”
“He decided to not only fix things up, but to get his business in order lately,” Chevy says. “Permits, licenses, and all the things.”
Backwoods Bar had always been less of a legal business and more of a bootlegging type of establishment.
A truly local watering hole with Wolf serving beers out of coolers.
Cash only. Located just outside of the Sheet Cake limits, it was pretty much overlooked in terms of being an official establishment so long as people didn’t get too rowdy.
And Wolf always made sure no one drove home after drinking too much.
“Is it because of the mayor race?” James asks.
Chevy shrugs. “Nah. I think just because he decided it was time to fully be on the right side of legal.”
As we leave the patio lights behind, Chevy pulls a small flashlight from his back pocket and leads us toward the woods.
I’m surprised to realize there’s actually something of a driveway, though it’s more of a cleared path worn by tires and marked by the occasional pothole.
It’s impossible to see it from the bar, though now I can see how it connects to the far corner of the parking lot.
Because there’s no pavement or gravel, it makes this a fairly private driveway.
“Hidden right in plain sight,” I murmur, and only Chevy seems to hear, offering me a slight nod.
We come to a stop at a metal gate just inside the treeline, chained shut with a combination lock. Handing Val the flashlight, Chevy twirls the numbers on the lock.
“How do you know the code?” Val asks.
“Spring gave it to me. Though she wasn’t sure it would still be the same.” No sooner have the words left Chevy’s mouth than the lock snaps open. “Huh. Guess he’s a creature of habit.”
“Or maybe he and Spring are closer than we realized,” Val says, sounding thoughtful.
Winnie makes a face. “Let’s hope not.”
“Maybe it’s time to bury the hatchet with Spring,” James says. And when Winnie gives him a look, he shrugs. “Or at least, consider that she might have changed. Enough to care about her cousin.”
“She’s not as bad as Tabitha Waters-Graves,” Val points out. “Spring shunned us back in the day. Tabitha carries on now like we’re all still in high school and she’s the queen.”
“I think someone will need to give me a more detailed rundown on the Waters family,” Kyoko says.
“Let’s focus on Wolf’s well-being for now, huh?” Chevy says lightly, holding open the gate so we can all pass through. He locks it again behind us.
“Sorry,” Winnie mutters. “I have a tendency to stockpile my grudges.”
“But you do it out of love for the people you love,” Collin says. “And we’re all happy to be on your good side.”
“For now,” Winnie adds.
The primitive drive is only wide enough for one car, and the darkness presses in around us. It’s almost like we’re walking through a tunnel formed by the tree trunks beside and the branches linked overhead. Several of us turn on their phone lights, since Chevy’s flashlight barely makes a dent now.
“This does not bode well,” James grumbles.
It is a little creepy, though I honestly respect the amount of privacy this affords Wolf. I’m still not really expecting a bunker out here, but having a cabin or house out here would be the perfect way to maintain an unbothered existence.
It also feels very lonely.
James and Collin start bickering after Collin accidentally (maybe) shines his light in James’s eyes. I walk forward and catch up to Chevy.
“I noticed you’re not in uniform. Is this not an official welfare check? Or do you not expect this to be a serious matter?” I don’t like the sound of a welfare check. Usually they’re related to the kinds of outcomes I don’t even want to consider.
“Spring asked me not to come in an official capacity,” Chevy says. “I think she and I both hope he’s just holed up, licking his wounds. Plus, she thought it would work against him with regards to the mayoral race.”
“Do you think Spring is backing Wolf for mayor?” Val sounds shocked.
“She didn’t say. But she sounded concerned.
More about him than the campaign, but she said either way, she didn’t want anything on record unless it needed to be.
” Chevy pauses. “Wolf might be in a bad headspace about having his signs burned, but I wouldn’t have let everyone tag along if I really thought we would be walking into something truly bad.
Still—I’d like to go in first with just Tank.
Then, depending on how he’s doing, this kind of support might be the exact right kind of medicine. ”
I really do hope he’s right about Wolf. After we finished picking up signs, I was concerned when Chevy couldn’t reach him. But then I went back to Pat and Lindy’s, had another night of little sleep, got caught up helping Pat, then went on a date with Rose. I’ve been a little busy.
When I finally checked my phone on the way out here, I saw two missed calls from Wolf. Nothing to rival the number of calls and texts I missed in the family group chat. But if something really is wrong with Wolf, I’ll feel terrible for not answering.
The trees part ahead, opening up to a clearing lit by the moon. Wolf’s pickup is parked to the side of the clearing and rather than a house or even a cabin, there is only one structure visible. Chevy aims his flashlight that way, and we all come to a stop, staring.
“Is that … an outhouse?” Winnie asks.
“Looks that way,” Collin says. “Though I think this would be considered a double-wide outhouse.”
“More like an outmansion,” Chevy says.
The wooden building is about the size of a large shed, and looks exactly like outhouses I’ve only seen in books, only bigger. There’s a door with a half moon shape cut out near the top and a slanted shingled roof. The only non-outhouse-y thing about it is the electronic keypad on the door.
“People say Austin is weird only because they’ve never experienced Sheet Cake,” Kyoko says, shaking her head. “My life was really boring before, and I had no idea.”
“It’s not a functioning outhouse,” Chevy says. “From what I understand, anyway.”
“Let’s hope not,” James says.
“I mean, is a non-functioning outhouse any better?” Winnie asks. “That could be really gross.”
Chevy steps forward and taps in a code, I’m guessing the same one he tried on the gate lock. When it beeps to let him in, he swings the door open and shines his flashlight around. “Huh. Not an outhouse at all. It’s an elevator. Kind of.”
We all crowd to the door and then inside.
I didn’t think we could all fit, but the structure is deeper than it is wide, making it larger than it appears from the front.
Outmansion, indeed. The biggest surprise is how modern it is.
The floor is metal, and there’s what looks like a fancy freight elevator that might be in a warehouse.
The smooth metal platform takes up much of the space and is large enough for half a dozen people to ride down at once.
Which means …
“Wolf Waters does have a bunker,” Winnie says. “I can’t believe it.”
“I wonder what it’s like down there?” Collin asks.
“The rest of you wait here for now.” Chevy motions me forward onto the metal floor of the elevator. “Tank and I are about to find out.”
The ride down makes me think of Alice chasing a white rabbit into Wonderland. It also makes me wonder if, in my midlife, it’s possible to develop claustrophobia.
“This goes down a lot farther than I thought,” I tell Chevy, glancing back up through the top of the cage, where I can still see several faces peering through the wire mesh atop the platform.
We’ve traveled in this metal shaft what looks like two stories and feels like a lot further down than I want to be.