A Vigil for Justice, is a serial thriller fiction novel. Updates of 1,000-1,500 words will be posted every Friday.
Recap: Sixteen-year-old Melanie Craig and her family live in the small Colorado mountain town of Blue River. Since the end of World War Three, the economy in the United States has dropped out making funding law enforcement impossible and increasing crime rates in all, but the smallest towns. The government passes a Law allowing anyone over 16 to kill three other people during their life. Vigilante justice doesn’t seem like the right solution to Melanie, but she has no choice other than to learn how to protect herself and her family.
They arrived in Ogden at one in the afternoon. Melanie was riding with her mom giving her directions using her phone to the nearest car repair shop.
“Find one near the edge of town,” said Jennifer. “I don’t want to be in the middle of the city.”
“I’m looking mom.”
“Are we there?” Sam asked from the backseat.
“Not yet pumpkin,” Jennifer said.
“Get off the freeway here and take the second left.”
Mitchel and Seth followed them off the freeway.
As the van slowed down, Daisy got up off the floor and whined at the sliding door. “We’re not there yet Daisy,” said Sam.
Melanie glanced back, Sam was coloring on her iPad. Daisy wagged her little nub of a tail and licked Sam’s hand.
“Turn right here,” Melanie said turning back forward. “It’s on the right in a mile.”
The garage was on the edge of town surrounded by rundown buildings that look deserted. Melanie hoped they were deserted. The drove over a bridge a rumbling river ran beneath it. A small lake glistened through the bright green willows and pale olive trees.
There were two other cars in the dirt parking lot as they pulled in. The bay door of the garage was open and a third car was in the garage on blocks.
A man wearing a straw cowboy hat walked out of the garage as they rolled to a stop. Melanie glanced over the needle was creeping into the red. They had pulled over four times and had to wait a half hour for the van to cool down before continuing on their way.
His pace was slow and cautious. He came to a stop and waited for them to get out of the van. Mitchel and Seth pulled in and parked on either side of the van. The man put his thumbs through his belt loops on his light blue jeans. His dark blue t-shirt was stretched over his rounded stomach. It was a little small and he was a little big, Melanie decided. Not like the golf ball at the gas station who was just big.
Mitchel got out of his truck. Melanie quickly tucked her handgun into her holster and got out of the van. Mitchel was unarmed. What was he doing?
The man nodded his head toward Mitchel. His nut brown skin, wide cheek bones, and black hair protruding from beneath his hat marked him as Native American. Melanie tried to remember which tribe was in Utah.
Mitchel glanced back at Melanie and then back to the man.
“Good afternoon,” Mitchel said as he approached. “You know anything about overheating vans?”
The man nodded and turned to walk back inside the shop. Mitchel cast Melanie a glance, eyebrows raised in question.
She shrugged. “Guess we should follow?”
Mitchel followed and she was right behind him.
The old Indian was seated behind a metal desk with his feet kicked up on the desk. “My name’s Zachariah Thunderhawk and this is mine and my son’s garage.”
“I’m Mitchel and this is Melanie. Out in the van is Jennifer, Sam, and by brother Seth.”
He set his straw hat on his desk. “What year is the van?”
“It’s a 2015 Mazda,” Melanie said.
“How many miles?”
“About 42,000 I believe,” Melanie said.
“You have family here?” he asked.
Melanie shook her head.
“You on your way to the safe zone then?”
Melanie nodded. Her stomach sunk. Why did that thought make her so sad? She took a deep breath. Jennifer walked into the small office. When the door opened, a laugh from Sam mingled with the bell hanging on the door and was accented by a bark from Daisy.
“It’s like a furnace out there,” Jennifer said wiping the sweat from her brow with the back of her hand. Her shirt was clinging to her. They couldn’t run the air conditioner when the van was overheating. Sometimes they had to run the heater.
He smiled and began to laugh showing his white teeth. “Yes, it is damn hot out there. Let me pull this clunker out of the garage, and I’ll have a look at your van. It shouldn’t be too serious with only 42,000 miles on it.”
“How long do you think it’ll take?” Jennifer asked.
“Hard to know,” he said. “There’s cold water in the fridge at the back of the garage, help yourselves.”
Jennifer handed him the keys to the van and walked into the garage. Zachariah backed the car in the garage off the blocks and into the yard.
“Where did Seth go?” Mitchel asked Sam as she streaked past him with Daisy on her heels. Sam pointed toward the lake.
Melanie turned toward the trees and the water. A swim would be so nice in this heat.
Melanie followed Mitchel into the garage. Zachariah was bent over the engine.
“Has it been leaking?”
“We’ve been moving around a lot,” Mitchel said.
“I’m going to have to let it cool down and then run a few tests. You may be stuck here a few days. I’ve got some ham and cheese you’re welcome to it if you are hungry.”
“Thank you,” Mitchel said.
“Everybody’s got to eat.” Zachariah closed the hood of the van. “You got some place to stay?”
“We stay in the van,” Melanie said.
“You’re welcome to stay in my cabin out back with two sets of bunk beds. There’s no heater, but I can’t imagine that matters right now,” Zachariah said.
“That’s very kind of you—” Melanie began.
“We’d love to stay there,” said Mitchel. “We haven’t had a bed in a week.”