Top of The Edge - Fugitives in Rockville

Tuttle took note that the fireplace was clean - no ashes, which seemed strange since it was in the middle of winter. He got down on his knees and looked up the chimney and saw the antenna wire. The end of which had been coiled up and secured out of sight. "This is definitely the right place." he said as he uncoiled the wire and stretched it out into the room.

Officers at not-bridge

Officers Wendell Carey and Paul Johnson heard about the cabin over the radio. Officer Johnson wishing to break the monotony suggested, "We are not... too far from there. Let's check it out."

"I'm certain they have all the help they need and then some. Besides if we don't finish checking every side road and trail that intersects with Inland Road, you know Chief is just going send us right back out here until we do. Also, He's got Joe Ferguson and Maynard Severs doing the same thing over on River Road. We made a bet with them - whoever finishes last has to buy lunch at Charley's Steak and Seafood."

"We? If we made a bet, how come I'm just now hearing about it?"

"Well, I was so certain we were going to win, that I thought it would be a fun surprise for you."

"Bologna, you committed us to this bet without talking to me because you knew I wouldn't agree to it. Hey stop!" Wendell immediately slammed on brakes and brought the squad car to a screeching halt. "What the heck Joe?"

"You just drove right passed that little road off to the left toward the river."

"What road?"

"Back up a little. You'll see what I'm talking about." Wendell did as his partner said and backed up for a ways until he saw the nearly obscure road/trail. He immediately turned onto it and said, "Good eye Joe. I completely missed it."

Wendell's attempt to drive down, and check this road out quickly, was heavily thwarted by the deep holes and ruts. Several times their squad car bottomed out. Finally, Joe commented, "I know that bet is important to you and all... but if you end up destroying this car, Chief will probably wait till sometime tomorrow afternoon before he sends someone out here to pick us up and retrieve the car, and you know he will make us wait with the car." Wendell adhered to his partner's advice and slowed down considerably. It was another 10 minutes before they reached the river and saw the old rickety bridge across it.

"I didn't know there was a bridge across the river here. Did you?"

"More like the remnants of a bridge, wouldn't you say?"

"Yeah, I don't think any vehicle has driven across this old thing in quite some time."

Joe opened his car door and put one foot out when Wendell asked, "What are you doing?"

"I'm going to walk around and check everything out."

"What for? Nothing's out here, and no one, and I mean no one has driven over that remnant of a bridge in ages."

Joe pulled his foot back into the car and shut the door just as Wendell began his multi-point turn around to head back to Inland Road.

Rockville

As their boat drew closer to Rockville the two fugitives began seeing boat docks. Billy directed Louise to dock at one of them as soon as she possibly could. "We need to disembark around the outskirts of town." He told her. "It's daylight now and before long there will be people out and about on the streets." Fortunately for them, up until now they had not seen anyone, and no one had seen them. Louise was able to dock within minutes of Billy's instruction. She hoisted the duffel bag onto her back and stepped out onto the dock. She held her hand out to assist Billy, but he waved it away.

As they made their way to the base of a huge old oak, Louise stated the obvious, "We need a plan. We need to stay out of sight, and we need to move inland away from the coast as soon as possible." Billy merely nodded in agreement as he leaned against the tree and slowly lowered himself to sit on the ground and said, "Moving inland is definitely the plan. Now we just need a way to carry it out."

Louise sat down next to Billy and stared out over the river pensively, appearing to be in deep thought for several minutes. Then matter-of-factly she stated. "Rockville has a post office."

"And so...?" Billy said interrogatively.

"So, every day it receives mail from the main postal annex in Charleston."

Billy shook his head doubtfully. "Today is Saturday, and from what I've learned, most U.S. government agencies are closed Saturdays and Sundays."

"True." Louise countered, "The home delivery service does not operate on the weekends. But... the main postal annexes transport the mail to and from their satellite locations seven days a week."

"Well, that's certainly not common knowledge.

"My uncle used to deliver the mail from the Columbia main postal annex to Charleston's main annex. He drove every day of the week, sometimes only part of a day but still every day. I remember him talking about how sometimes when he would be running late, that the drivers responsible for delivering to Charleston's satellite locations would be waiting for him to arrive, so they could take the mail from his truck to theirs and then out to the satellite locations. He also said that since most of the drivers are in and out so quickly, for convenience, they don't bother to lock the back cargo door of their trucks. So, after today's truck delivers the mail to the Rockville Post Office we can jump in the back when he stops just before pulling out onto the main road."

"That sounds like a pretty good plan Louise, but do you have any way of knowing when the truck will arrive at the Post Office here, or whether or not it has already come and gone?"

"I have no idea." Louise replied.

"That's okay. I suppose if we keep a watch on it, we just might get lucky. Besides, our options are limited. Do you know where the Rockville post office is from here?"

"If my bearings are correct and I think they are, it's only a few blocks from here, about a half mile."

Johnny's

It was six thirty Saturday morning. Johnny parked his tow truck along the North side of his shop, Johnny's Auto, Towing, and Gas, which was also adjacent to the south side of the Rockville Post Office. After he parked and exited the tow truck, he walked around to the front of his shop and unlocked the front door, and re locked it behind himself after he entered. Saturdays were always busy and for the next hour and a half, he would be readying the shop and preparing to receive his customers. If this Saturday morning was going to be anything like the previous Saturday, by 8:00 he would have a line of customers waiting to get in.

Since the start of the war Johnny's stock items were always, either nearly, or completely depleted. Oil, gas, and tires were heavily rationed. He didn't mind so much. After all, he was determined, like most on the home front, to do his part to support the troops fighting abroad. Like most others around town, he adapted. Labor and knowledge were his primary sources of revenue now. He had been a mechanic and all around fix it guy in the Army during WW I. During which time he developed a real knack for extending the life of just about anything he put his mind toward fixing,regardless of limited or scarce parts and material.

He had two employees due to arrive at seven thirty. Ronald Simmons, also referred to by most folks that knew him as Old Man Simmons. He wasn't much for turning wrenches anymore, but he was someone with whom Johnny placed a great deal of trust to manage the station while he was out on a tow job. His other employee was his 15-year-old nephew, James Winslow, the son of his younger sister Clarice. To his surprise, James had turned out to be a valued asset in the shop. He enjoyed learning from his uncle Johnny and had a passion for fixing things, especially auto motive things.

Just as he was unlocking the cash register, he heard what sounded like something knocking over a trash can or one of the empty oil barrels out back. He paused for a minute and remembered seeing a family of raccoons earlier that morning running towards the back of the station as he pulled in and parked his 1940 Diesel Dodge Wrecker. The last thing he needed was for those Raccoons to spill or contaminate his supply of cooking oil.