Not Peachy, Mate Read online

Page 11


  “But murder has soiled that dream.”

  Andrea let her hands drop out of the air. “My sister insisted that Patrick Walker, Alistair Berman, Mitch Taylor and Heath Marshall all had to die. She...betrayed me and told Heath Marshall about my girls...presented a recording of the conversation to me. I heard Heath Marshall declare that he was going to kill my girls once they agreed to allow access to the glowing springs. I grew furious.”

  “As to be expected,” Momma Peach said. “But, how did poor Patrick find out?”

  “I do not know,” Andrea answered in an honest voice. “That will always remain a mystery to me. I suppose one of my girls could have made contact with him?”

  Momma Peach decided not to press the question too far in her mind. Instead she focused on Jasmine. “Your sister blackmailed you.”

  “Yes,” Andrea said, “my sister betrayed me and forced me to...betray my girls. In return she promised to help me build the water plant and share the profits. I...ordered my girls to...murder. But,” Andrea added in a pleading voice, “Jasmine killed Heath Marshall. She shot him dead. My girls and I...we killed Patrick Walker, Mitch Taylor and Alistair Berman. Patrick was foolish and caused one of my girls to shoot him. I...only intended to scare him, not murder...but after he was shot and killed I realized a deadly line had been crossed...there was no turning back.”

  “Because of Heath Marshall?”

  “Yes,” Andrea confessed. “If Heath Marshall found out that Patrick Walker had been shot and killed, he might have exposed my girls. Jasmine agreed to kill him if my girls went for Mitch Taylor and Alistair Berman.”

  “My, my,” Momma Peach said and rubbed her chin, “what a mess, what a mess, what a mess.”

  Andrea stared at Momma Peach. “Evan was warned to leave. He failed to do so. You can understand my problem. I...must protect my girls.”

  “You're up to your neck in quicksand,” Momma Peach pointed out. “If you go on killing folks, you're going to put a hangman’s noose around your neck.”

  “I must protect my girls,” Andrea insisted. “However...I do not want to kill you. I...” Andrea hung her head down in shame. “I have disgraced my honor and caused my girls to disgrace their truth.” Andrea closed her eyes. “I am going to present you with two options.”

  “Options?” Momma Peach asked.

  “Yes,” Andrea replied. She slowly raised her eyes. To Momma Peach's shock, the woman had tears running down her face. “You can die, or you can become the new Mother to my girls. If you decide to become the new Mother, I will vanish into the wind and leave them in your care. I will...kill my sister before I vanish. It is impossible for me to remain the leader...impossible for me to be part of my sister's twisted final plan. Yes, it is true that I desire for my girls to live in a safe community...and it is my desire to live close to them...but my shame is...too great.” Andrea wiped at her tears. “You must complete my dream. You must remain on this land and help my girls carefully enter the world, locate honorable husbands, create families...be happy.”

  “Oh, but I have a life of my own way across the world in a place called Georgia. I have a bakery to run and folks to love,” Momma Peach objected. “I ain't no tribal momma...why, I don't even like this part of the world. Too hot...too many snakes...spiders...and those scorpions, mean little sap-suckers.”

  Andrea wiped at her tears. “I...do not want to kill you,” she pleaded. “I must have your help...I'm begging you...please,” she told Momma Peach. “I cannot let my girls...die in shame.” Andrea pointed at the door. “My girls deserve a chance to live. In one day, I destroyed years of valuable teachings and turned them into monsters. I must...” Andrea closed her eyes in misery. “I did not bring you into this store to make such a request. I brought you into this store to tell you the truth before killing you...to ease my heart. But my heart is telling me what path I must walk and the person I must ask for help.”

  “Baby...” Momma Peach struggled to speak. She shook her head. “I can't be a mother to your girls. I ain't even Australian...why, I can't even throw a barbie shrimp or a shrimp on the barbie, or whatever the fool saying is supposed to be. I’m a southern Georgia gal who bakes peach pies.” Momma Peach drew in a deep breath and dared to approach Andrea. Andrea took a step back. “I ain't no threat to you,” Momma Peach insisted, threw out her hand, and took Andrea's left hand. “Look into my eyes.”

  Andrea allowed Momma Peach to take her hand. She looked deeply into her caring eyes. “What do I do?” she begged.

  “Trust me,” Momma Peach replied and forced a tired smile to her face. “Now listen, you're in a very deep mess and so are your girls. You gals have killed three men. I can't overlook that. But,” Momma Peach added, “this ain't my country, either. I sure don't know what to do except go to the U.S. Embassy and ask for some help.”

  “No,” Andrea begged and pulled away from Momma Peach. “My girls will be better off remaining unseen...forever. They cannot be placed in prison. They would die.” Andrea backed up to the door. “I gave the orders to kill...I'm responsible.”

  Momma Peach stared at Andrea. She sure didn't know what to do even though all the answers to the puzzle had been thrown in her face. “My, my, this night is getting hotter by the second,” she said and wiped sweat off her forehead. “Hotter and uglier. Yes sir and yes ma’am.”

  Andrea walked Momma Peach back to Evan's garage. “I'm sorry I had to tie your hands back together,” she said in a regretful voice as her feet crunched over the dry ground that was hot even though it was night. “I'm sorry you refused my offer.”

  Momma Peach focused on the garage. Her mind was now on Michelle. “I have my own girls to take care of,” she told Andrea. “But you can rest assured that I’m going to help you out of this mess.”

  “There is no way out,” Andrea told Momma Peach in despair. “My girls and I will vanish back into the land...I will…be forced to kill my sister before we do. There is no other way out. I understand that now. I didn't before.”

  “Don't go try to kill that sister of yours...as evil as she is,” Momma Peach pleaded. She stopped walking and looked at Andrea with worried eyes. “Give me time to think, please.”

  “Jasmine must die,” Andrea insisted. “I will kill her and vanish into the land with my girls. It's the only solution. I can't agree to kill you...I can't agree to let my sister build a water plant...she would only betray me in the future. I was foolish to think otherwise...foolish to make a pact with her.” Andrea studied the garage. “When morning arrives, I will kill my sister and vanish into the land. I will spend the rest of this night preparing my girls for the misery that is to come.”

  “Baby—”

  “Enough talk,” Andrea ordered Momma Peach roughly, grabbed her arm, and marched her into the garage.

  “Well?” Jasmine asked in a sour voice.

  Momma Peach spotted Jasmine sitting in a chair in front of the door leading into the sleeping room. A dim lightbulb hanging down from a raw wire lit her beautiful but deadly face. “What did you two chat about?” she demanded. “Wait, let me guess, you tried to convince this woman to become the new Mother, right?”

  “Yes,” Andrea told Jasmine. “This woman has refused.”

  Jasmine stood up and walked over to Momma Peach. “So we kill her. We kill all of them.”

  “When morning arrives,” Andrea told Jasmine in a weary, resigned voice that caused Jasmine to take a step back. “When morning arrives, you will kill all of them yourself, just as you killed Heath Marshall. My girls will no longer sacrifice their hearts to murder.”

  “Why wait until morning?” Jasmine demanded. “I can shoot them right now.”

  “It is not proper,” Andrea explained. “My girls will panic and run off into the night. They’ll take up arms against you, Jasmine, and you don’t want to see that, do you? If you want them to support the water bottling plant, I suggest you do as you're told.”

  Jasmine didn't want to make enemies with her sister's lost tribe. It
wasn't that she was afraid of the women...it was just that the women gave her the feeling she was lower than an earthworm. Why? Because the women were pure and untouched and Jasmine herself possessed a heart full of painful hatred, ugly deceit and hypocrisy. Yes, the women had killed three men, but they obeyed the order of a woman they loved and cherished, not realizing that their actions were morally wrong and legally corrupt. “Okay...they have until morning,” Jasmine hissed. “You, get into the room.”

  Momma Peach looked into Andrea's face but didn't say a word. She sighed, walked over to the door leading into the sleeping room and waited for Jasmine to push her inside. “Momma Peach, you're okay,” Michelle said in a relieved voice.

  “Yes, I’m fine,” Momma Peach promised and then let out a loud cry. “My, it's like a sauna in this here room!”

  Andrea walked into the room, felt the heat, and looked back at Jasmine. “Walk them all to the store. This room is entirely too hot.”

  “Why?” Jasmine asked. “Why show a speck of kindness—”

  “Now!” Andrea yelled. Before Jasmine could retort back, two beautiful women ran into the garage with their rifles at the ready. “No,” Andrea told them in their own tongue, “go, take these four people to the store and guard them. I'm going back to the village.” The women obeyed. They hurried Momma Peach, Michelle, Grace and Evan out of the hot room and began marching them toward the store. “You stay in town until morning. I'll be back when the sun begins to rise,” she told Jasmine and vanished outside and slipped away into the shadows.

  “I'll wait,” Jasmine hissed under her breath, sat down on the wooden chair she had placed in front of the sleeping room door, and focused her attention on the night. “I'll wait, but when morning arrives, you're the one that's going to die. And when you're dead I'll become the new leader to your little girls’ club and one by one begin killing them all.”

  Momma Peach didn't hear Jasmine's threat. Her eyes were locked on the store and her heart on Michelle. “Michelle,” she whispered, glanced over her shoulder, saw one of the women covering the rear, and then looked forward at the second woman who was maintaining the front. “We have to escape.”

  “I can't break the knots,” Michelle whispered back in an upset voice. “These girls are good.”

  “I can’t break the knots, either,” Grace whispered.

  “Same here,” Evan added. The woman covering the rear pressed her rifle into Evan's back and made a threatening look with her eyes, warning them to stop whispering.

  “Well,” Momma Peach whispered so low that only Michelle and Grace heard, “you best prepare to use your legs...the both of you. Can you do that for me?”

  “I can,” Michelle promised.

  “Me, too,” Grace confirmed.

  “Okay, when we're free, just run as fast as you can behind the store and start kicking out the solar panels. We need to trap the black widow in the garage and make sure she stays in her web.”

  “Okay,” Michelle whispered, watching the store grow closer and closer.

  “Mr. Evan,” Momma Peach whispered loud enough for the two women to hear, “don't take this personally.”

  “What?” Evan asked. Before he could say another word, Momma Peach charged at him, threw all of her weight into the air, and conducted a belly flop. Evan didn't stand a chance. She took him down to the ground like a brick taking down a feather. The woman guarding the rear said something to her friend and then ran over to Momma Peach and tried to grab her right arm. The second woman shoved Michelle backwards and went for Evan, assuming Michelle and Grace wouldn't dare try to escape.

  “Wait...wait...” Michelle whispered, “wait until you can get a solid kick in...wait until they bend low...” Michelle watched the two women bend down and begin trying to pull Momma Peach and Evan apart. “Now,” Michelle whispered and let out a low whistle. The two women jerked their heads up just in time to see Michelle and Grace conduct a round house kick apiece. The kicks made solid contact with their faces. The force of the kicks threw their bodies backward. They landed in the dirt and fell unconscious.

  “Nothing personal, ladies,” Michelle said.

  “Not bad,” Grace told Michelle.

  Momma Peach wobbled off poor Evan. “Nothing personal,” she said. Evan didn't respond. The poor guy was out cold. “Oh, what did I go and do to that poor man?”

  “Bend low and grab his legs,” Michelle whispered to Grace. “It's not going to be easy with our hands tied behind our backs, but we have to drag Evan behind the store.” Grace nodded, bent down, and with as much power as possible, grabbed Evan's left ankle. Michelle squatted down beside her and grabbed Evan's right leg. “Momma Peach, if you can, grab one of those rifles—”

  “No,” Momma Peach quickly objected. “I want to leave a message for the poor woman who is trapped in a spider's web. Now, hurry, and get Mr. Evan behind the store.”

  “Let's move,” Michelle urged Grace. Grace drew in a deep breath and together, with Michelle at her side, began dragging Evan's body across the dry dirt like two mules lugging a heavy wagon. Momma Peach quickly kicked the rifles away from the two unconscious women and hurried after Michelle and Grace. When they reached the back of the store, Momma Peach spotted a line of tilted solar panels, their blue glass glinting in the low light of evening. “I'll start kicking out the connectors, Momma Peach. Grace, you keep watch.”

  Grace moved to the back corner of the store and locked her eyes on the garage. “Still clear,” she whispered, remaining calm and alert.

  “Hurry,” Momma Peach urged Michelle. Michelle hurried to the solar panels and began kicking out the connectors. Next, she focused her attention on a power inverter and kicked it out of use. “I'm not familiar with solar panels but I think that should do it,” she said, turned to Grace and asked, “Still clear?”

  “Still clear...as far as I can see,” Grace nodded. “We need to get these ropes off before we move out.”

  “I know,” Michelle complained.

  “We'll get loose later,” Momma Peach promised. “Right now, we have to move into the dark.” She looked around at the night. The darkness was so thick she could barely see Michelle's shadowy form. “That black widow sitting in the garage won't come out into the dark,” she said. “That black widow is afraid of the dark.”

  “How do you know that, Momma Peach?” Michelle asked and began struggling against the ropes holding her wrists hostage.

  “Oh, I just know,” Momma Peach replied. “But I ain't afraid of the dark. I have the eyes of an owl. But that don't mean I’m stupid. Now, follow me and stay as silent as possible.”

  “What about Evan?” Grace asked. “We can't leave him.”

  “Mr. Evan will be fine for now,” Momma Peach assured Grace. “I know the leader of these women. I know the leader won't kill Evan.” Momma Peach looked down at poor Evan. “I guess I need to go on a diet...I sure am sorry for splatting you in such a way...forgive me.”

  “I'm sure he will,” Grace told Momma Peach.

  “I sure hope so. Now, let's hurry.” Momma Peach hurried around the far corner of the store, checked the darkness, and then boogie-woogied her legs across the street as fast as they would carry her and ran into a worn-down wooden building where locals often sat and chatted while they drank. To her relief, no beautiful lost tribal women greeted her and no angry black widow attacked. “Okay,” Momma Peach said, breathing hard, “we have to make our way back toward poor Patrick's house.”

  “Why?” Grace asked.

  “Knife,” Momma Peach whispered. “We have to cut these ropes off and then get ourselves to the watering spot.”

  “Momma Peach...the land is dark...we could encounter snakes—” Grace began to object.

  “That's a chance we're just gonna have to take,” Momma Peach told Grace. “The woman in charge, bless her cursed heart, will follow me to the watering spot.”

  Michelle tried to see Momma Peach's face in the darkness. “What's your plan, Momma Peach?”

 
“Yes, what are you planning to do?” Grace insisted. “Momma Peach, whatever you’re planning better work, because we've just made enemies out of two very deadly women who will be very eager to kill us if they get the chance.”

  “Grace is right, Momma Peach,” Michelle nodded. “Those women don't seem to be the forgiving type.”

  Momma Peach looked around the darkness and then leaned her back against the wooden wall of the building and let out a heavy sigh. “Baby,” she told Michelle, “these women are obeying orders is all. I don't think these women are killers. That don't mean they won't kill...they're just...confused is all. And that's what I plan to stop.”

  “What do you mean, Momma Peach?” Grace asked in an anxious voice.

  Momma Peach rested her back a second. “I was asked to become the new Mother to these here women. Something like a…tribal momma leader-figure. Well, I said no...but now it seems that she don't have a choice.” Momma Peach kept her eyes walking around the darkness. “I’m just hoping that glowing water really glows in the dark, because I’m going to have to glow myself up good, yes sir and yes ma’am.”

  “Glow?” Michelle asked in a confused voice. Then, without another second passing, she understood. “Oh...glow,” she said and grinned. “Momma Peach, you're a genius.”

  “I don't understand,” Grace confessed.

  “You will,” Momma Peach promised. She leaned forward and drew in a tired breath. “Okay, let’s get our legs moving. We're gonna have to hurry and stay ahead of the game.” Michelle and Grace nodded their heads and hurried after Momma Peach.

  As they did, Jasmine peeked her head out of the garage with a gun in her hand. The store was now pitch dark. The only light in town belonged to the garage.

 

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