Destruction Road

Chapter 4

By the third rest stop Will figured he had covered enough distance to rest somewhere safely. He pulled into a sleepy town just as its inhabitants were getting up to start their day. He found a good spot in the very back of a huge parking lot right between two other old trucks.

He figured that this would be a much better place than hiding on a country road. He thought that blending in might be smarter than hiding. He planned to sleep in crowded areas by day, and travel by night until he found something good. He rolled up his sweatshirts and stuffed them under his head. Within minutes he was asleep.

Will awoke to the sound of an officer tapping on his window. At first he thought it was a nightmare. How could the police have found him in this podunk town parked among a bunch of other old trucks? Maybe he was getting ahead of himself. He was, after all, a long way from home. He sat up and rolled down the window.

"I'm sorry to wake you, but we've been called to run the plates on these here trucks and contact the owners. You can't park your vehicle here for more than 8 hours. Didn't you see the signs?"

The officer pointed to a sign three spots away.

"Oh, uh, no; I didn't. I'm sorry officer. I was driving most of the night—just needed a little cat nap. I'll move it."

"Not from around here?"

"No sir, just passing through."

"Alright. Well I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to write you a fine for parking here for too long."

"Okay."

Will thought the best way to get out of this was to be polite, take the fine, and then make tracks. Normally he would have argued with the cop until he was blue in the face over something like this. He probably hadn't even been asleep that long, but it was best to just play it cool. He watched the policeman walk back to his car and get inside. He looked over at Will's license plate. This was not good. Will thought about starting the truck, but would he really be able to outrun a police cruiser in his dad's old Ford? Not likely. All he could do was wait and remain polite. Maybe he could still get out of this.

"I'm going to need you to get out of the vehicle sir."

Maybe not.

Tom hadn't slept much, and it wasn't because his parent's guest bed was uncomfortable. The day didn't seem real, couldn't be real. And yet he had seen them. His beautiful wife and baby boy. Always asking the funniest questions with his cute little voice.

Everything seemed like a hazy dream. He had hoped that once he finally found sleep maybe he could wake up from it all and roll over to give his wife a kiss on the cheek as she slept. Unfortunately for Tom, it was no dream. It was a nightmare. He had finally fallen asleep around four, which was why he was still asleep when his parent's phone rang at ten AM.

Tom never heard it, but he did hear his father's knock at the bedroom door.

"Tom?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry to wake you son, but there's a detective on the phone for you. He says he has some news to share about the case."

"No, that's okay Dad, I'll take the call. What time is it?"

"It's just after ten. We've got some coffee left if you want it, and pancakes."

"That would be great dad, thanks."

Tom sat up and followed his dad out to the kitchen where the phone was sitting on the counter waiting for him.

"Hello?" he managed to get out between yawns.

"Hello, this is detective Strunk. Is this Thomas Orchard I am speaking to?"

"Yep," Tom said, "unfortunately that's me."

"Well, I have some good news for you Tom. We picked up the kid who's responsible for the death of your wife and son. He was parked in the back of a Supermarket lot about 600 miles from here."

"Really?! Oh, that's great. You know it's him then?"

"We do. His father reported that his son had stolen his truck, with the same description the witness saw, and he lives less than ten minutes from the crime scene. That's how we were pretty sure we had the right license plate number. We sent out a watch to all the states within a thousand miles in every direction to be on the lookout. They're hauling him back to town now."

"That's wonderful. Oh man, thank you."

He looked to his parents with a weak smile.

"So where do we go from here?"

"I'm sorry to say that now we wait. He will be in jail, but it will be a while before the trial. One thing I do know is that he's not quite 18 yet. The significance in that, is that back in 05' the Supreme Court barred the death penalty for juveniles in Roper v. Simmons; so he won't be getting the death penalty. But rest assured Mr. Orchard, he will spend the rest of his life in jail to think about what he's done, starting today. I hope this offers you some comfort.

"Well, I'm glad he was caught. Thank you."

"I am as well. That's all the news I have for you at this moment. Was there anything else?"

"Yeah, um, am I able to go and see this kid?"

"Uh, yeah, we could arrange that. You want to do that then?"

"I do."

"Okay. Normally only family is able to have visiting privileges, but yeah I'll make the call. You can talk to him through a window on a phone. I'm not putting you in a room with him."

"That's fine. When will he be there?"

"In just a few hours."

"Alright, thanks."

"You're welcome Mr. Orchard. I'll tell you more when there's fresh news."

"Thank you. Goodbye."

Tom hung up the antiquated phone, an act of actually hanging it back up onto the wall, and turned to his folks.

"They found the shooter. He's just a kid, not even 18 yet."

"Dear Lord," said Mrs. Orchard.

"Could you help me find a travel mug for the coffee dad?"

"Sure thing son."

"Thanks. I'm going to take a drive, and pick up some things from the house. I'm not sure when I'll be going back to my home yet—too many memories to deal with right now."

"You just take your time son."

"Well, alright. Thanks dad."

"You bet."