Book two in the series about a group of misfits, outcasts and vagabonds
who travel the countryside hopping freight trains…
By N.L. McLaughlin
Life has returned to normal for the Nomads. Finn and Teague are closer than ever. The bond between River and Cash is evolving into something more, and Zac has his family of misfits. Even Beth has come into her own. No longer a greenie, she is now a full, contributing member of the group. Her internet fame has blossomed beyond anything she could have ever imagined.
Riding the rails from one adventure to another, life is perfect.
Or so it seems…
Recently released from prison, Daniel is on a quest to locate Finn. Thanks to Beth’s videos, he has a trail that will lead him straight to his quarry.
As the miles scroll by, the distance between Daniel and Finn shortens, bringing them closer to an ultimate confrontation.
Who will survive when their paths collide?
Book Information
Release Date: March 29, 2021 (e-book)
Publisher: Twisted Sky, LLC.
Soft Cover: ISBN: 978-1736705940; 314 pages; $13.99; E-Book, $3.99
Amazon: https://amzn.to/3JDKJ2k
Signed Copies – www.nancylmclaughlin.com
“Colter, don’t mess with those,” the beautiful,
young mother warned. “They bite. You’ll get
hurt.”
Taking hold of the toddler’s hand, she led him
to the minivan and watched as he clambered up
into his car seat. As soon as he settled, she
buckled him in.
“Let’s go, Dex!” she called toward the
house.
A young boy of roughly eight years, same blond
hair as the mom and the toddler, dashed outside.
Backpack dangling off one shoulder, sneakers
untied, a half-eaten wedge of toast hanging from
his mouth, he skidded to a halt beside his
mother, then tossed his backpack inside. With a
lighthearted grin, he vaulted into the van and
fastened his seatbelt.
A nostalgic smile spread across Daniel’s face as
he sat in an old, black Jeep, camouflaged by the
vehicles that were parked along the charming,
suburban street. Birds chirped in the trees
while squirrels romped about, carrying nuts from
one lawn to another. The delicate perfume of
flowers wafted on the morning breeze.
Watching the pretty mom and her two, young
children brought back a wave of recollections,
of a life that now was nothing more than a
dream. A time when he was the young dad leaving
for work, his lovely wife accompanying him to
his truck while his young son hopped about at
her heels, happily chasing the squirrels who ran
up and down the oak tree in the front yard.
Daniel couldn’t remember how many times he had
to pull Finn from that tree and hand him off to
Tricia.
He remembered pulling into the same driveway
after a long shift at the firehouse, greeted by
a somewhat older boy; still fairly young, riding
his bike. At first sight of the truck, the boy
beamed up at him, flashing one of the most
genuine smiles Daniel had ever witnessed. There
were no words to describe how much Daniel loved
seeing that smile. Jumping out of the truck, he
would scoop Finn up in his arms, breathing in
the earthy scent of soil and that floral fabric
softener Tricia loved so much. He loved that boy
with every fiber of his being.
The smile faded from Daniel’s face, turning into
a contemptuous sneer. Lies.
He took another drag from his smoke, observing
the minivan pull out of the driveway and roll
down the street. As it passed him by, the
toddler smiled and waved at Daniel, both the
boy’s mother and older brother, oblivious to the
stranger who watched as they drove away.
Daniel had been spying on the house for the past
two weeks, studying the routines of the new
occupants of the home he once shared with his
own family. A lifetime ago. He learned
their routine.
Every morning, the tall, athletic dad left for
work. The absence of a uniform left Daniel to
believe he was some sort of office hack. He
cared little for those types. They were always
so weak and boring.
The pretty mom, with her long, blonde hair
always tied up in a messy bun, reminded him of
his wife, Tricia, when she was younger. The
resemblance ended with the hairstyle. Truth was,
Tricia was nothing like this woman. She had no
heart or soul. What she had was a darkness that
consumed everything she touched. It grew inside
her like a fungus, with an insatiable hunger for
pain and strife.
It wasn’t always that way, or at least she was
much better at hiding it in the early days.
Sometimes when the mood struck him, Daniel would
focus real hard, and like a dream, random
memories of a happier time long ago would
materialize through the haze of hate and pain. A
time when a young firefighter was full of hope
and promise, his pretty wife seemed happy and
his son was the most precious thing in the
entire world.
Bullshit.
Daniel climbed out of the Jeep and leaned
against the door. He took one final drag from
his cigarette, then tossed it on the ground,
extinguishing it with the toe of his black boot.
One last glance around the street confirmed
there was no one about. Setting his focus on the
house, he made his way around to the side
yard.
When he owned the house, the window to the
laundry room was a constant on his list of
things to repair. Never able to lock, Daniel
tried a few remedies, but none ever worked well
enough. The only way to fix the issue would have
been to replace the window. He never got around
to that. Standing in front of it now, he could
see that the new homeowner hadn’t either. He
slid the window open, then slipped inside.
It being Tuesday, Daniel knew he had the house
to himself until noon. The mom would drop Dex,
the older boy, at school, then take Colter to
his gymnastics class. After that, they would go
to the park for an hour so the little guy could
climb the rock wall. They would come back around
noon for lunch, then the pretty mom would put
the little boy down for a nap.
With plenty of time to burn, Daniel decided he
would check out the home and see what the new
residents had done to the place.
The scent of fabric softener and a delicate,
floral perfume hung heavy in the air. The door
to the laundry room opened with a resounding,
sustained creak as it swung on its hinges. That
was another one of those things that required
fixing, but since it didn’t bother him unless he
was dealing with it at that moment—he never got
around to it. Too easy to forget about.
The kitchen looked the same as always. Not much
different. Same white cabinets. Same old, tile
flooring, same old drawer pulls.
At least they changed the curtains.
He rounded the corner into the living room.
Shiny hardwood floors had replaced the old
carpet. A nice upgrade for sure. Daniel stood in
the center of the room and swiped his boot
across the floor. This was the spot where he
almost ended Tricia’s wretched existence for
once and for all. Just a few more seconds and he
would have been free of her; but then the kid
had to interfere. Daniel shoved his rage down,
inhaling and exhaling until calm washed over
him. Yes, replacing the old, smelly carpet with
wood floors was an excellent choice. He turned
and wandered down the hall toward the
bedrooms.
The new owners decorated the first room with
dinosaurs. A perfect setting to inspire the
imagination of a young boy. When he owned this
home, the original intent was that this room
would belong to the second child that he and
Tricia were planning to have. That never came to
be, so the room turned into a catch-all for
everything they accumulated over the years that
they never could quite find a place for. It was
good to see it being used for its initial
purpose. He wondered what it would have been
like if they had had a second child. Would it
have changed anything? Would that second child
have looked like him? Shaking his head to oust
the thought, he strolled down the hall.
Running his hand along the smooth drywall, he
marveled at the seamless repair. The memory of
that night came rushing back. Tricia’s
confession that over the years, she aborted not
one, but two, unborn babies, all because she
would sooner die than see him happy. The rage
arising from all the years of pent-up hate for
the way his life turned out; for all the
shattered ambitions and lies. He flexed his
hand. He could almost feel the warmth of Finn’s
head in the palm of his hand as he smashed it
into the drywall. A malevolent smirk crossed his
face.
They certainly did a superb job on the
repair.
A hand-drawn warning on red construction paper
hung askew on the next door “Do Not Enter” it
cautioned. Daniel chuckled, then turned the
doorknob and stepped inside.
The room smelled of fresh laundry with a modest
hint of soil. He wondered if that was the
standard scent of all little boys. Sports
posters hung on the walls. Models of rockets and
aircraft sat proudly on display. Honestly, the
only actual difference was the color scheme. He
stood in silence; waiting, for what? He didn’t
know. Sadness, anger, bitterness; an emotion of
some sort? The days of feeling bad over
everything he lost were long over. All the
normal emotions had burned through him one at a
time, leaving nothing more than the charred
remains of hollow memories and a solemn vow for
vengeance.
He spun around and stalked across the hall to
the master bedroom.
The fragrant perfume of fresh blossoms in the
spring hovered around the threshold. He inhaled.
Such a pleasant smell. Tricia never used
perfume, it made her sneeze. No, when they lived
in this house, the air smelled of pine cleaner,
fabric softener and whatever food she was
cooking up for dinner.
The bedroom walls were a soft gray. That too was
an improvement over the pale tan Tricia insisted
on painting every wall in the house.
Daniel climbed on top of the bench at the foot
of the bed and separated the ceiling fan from
the mount. Holding the fixture with one hand, he
groped around in the ceiling, searching for a
cache of money he hid there. Gone.
Of course, she would remember that hiding
place.
After placing the fan back in place, he climbed
down, taking care to straighten the comforter.
He didn’t want to leave any trace he had been
there. No sense in destroying the pretty mom’s
sense of safety and comfort in her own home.
It was safe to assume that Tricia emptied all
the hiding places she knew about. Key point; the
ones she knew about. He smirked and stormed back
to the laundry room.
About a year before everything came crashing
down, the washing machine sprung a massive leak.
Water spewed out and flooded the entire room,
destroying the drywall. The entire room needed
to be restored. Of course, the first thing
Daniel discovered when he began the demo was a
small rag stuffed inside the drainage hose.
Right away, he knew who was responsible, so he
found his son and made sure the boy understood
the error of his ways. To his credit, Finn never
whined or complained. He took his beating like a
man, then went right to work on the demolition
of the room. He didn’t even ask for any
protective gear from the drywall dust. It was
for the better, anyway. There was no way Daniel
would have given him any.
Thinking back on it, Daniel still had to admit a
small amount of respect for the kid. When
confronted, Finn held his ground. He didn’t
cower, or run, or even lie. No, the boy stood
strong and seldom ever flinched. Say what you
want about the kid, he had serious backbone.
It took a full month to complete the renovations
of the room. Since Daniel did all the
restoration work himself, he installed an extra
hiding place. One that only he would know
about.
Standing in the laundry room now, Daniel pulled
the washing machine away from the wall, took out
his knife, and chipped away at the grout around
the tiles. It came away easily. Next, he lifted
four of the tiles, exposing a piece of concrete
backer board. He leaned that against the wall
and peered down at the metal safe tucked away
inside the hole, precisely how he left it. It
was a large one, with a dial combination lock.
Daniel blew the dust aside, then quickly
unlocked the door.
Come to papa baby. Stashed inside were
all the things he would require in the event of
an emergency. Five thousand dollars in cash, a
fake ID and passport, a set of keys to a storage
locker at the other end of town, two boxes of
ammo and, the best item of all, a shiny, black
revolver still wrapped in muslin cloth.
In the safe, a lone photo rested on the metal
floor. Two people beamed up at him, suspended
forever in time. One a young, handsome father;
the other, a boy around five years old, holding
up a huge catfish, flashing a toothless grin.
The cheerful man in the picture was no longer
recognizable to Daniel. It was as though he were
staring at someone else—a stranger who only
looked like him.
His hand trembled as he stared down at the
image. A kaleidoscope of emotions whirled around
inside. He snorted, crushed the photo into a
ball, tossed it into the safe, then slammed the
door shut.
After taking particular care to put the tiles
back into place, Daniel slid the washer against
the wall, cleaned up his mess, and made one more
cursory check of the home. Once he was certain
everything was exactly the way he found it, he
climbed out the window and sauntered back to the
old Jeep.
The next stop was a run by the storage facility
to pick up the gear he had tucked away. If his
memory served him correctly, the locker
contained camping gear, freeze-dried food, and
extra clothing. There should be at least another
two thousand dollars as well. It was time for a
road trip to visit Tricia. She was going to be
thrilled to see Daniel. He could hardly wait to
see the look on her face.
Her latest book is the YA fiction, Lost Boys: Book Two of the American Nomads.
You can visit her website at www.NancyLMclaughlin.com or connect with her on Twitter, Facebook and Instagram.
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