Sherrie ‘Sharp-Shooter’'s Arc

Chapter 7 of 13

Sherrie drove to Rust Creek as the sky turned gray with early morning light. She needed to see Barry before the Ravens realized Echo Warehouse had been emptied, and she needed to deal with her driver before word spread that Gary had caught him selling stock. Barry's bar sat at the edge of town where the main road split toward the northern tunnel. Painted barrels lined the entrance, stacked in clusters that drew traders in from the road. Inside, the morning crowd was thin—a few travelers nursing coffee, a woman behind the bar wiping down glasses. Sherrie spotted the problem immediately. One of her protected clients sat on a three-legged stool near the door, drinking a beer like he had nowhere else to be. She walked over and kept her voice low. "You're supposed to be gone by now." He didn't look up. "Barry said I had until noon. Ravens don't know my face yet." Sherrie glanced at the bar. Barry was watching them, his expression telling her the man was right. She nodded once and stepped away, letting him finish his drink. Barry waved her over when she reached the counter. He pulled a metal toolbox from under the bar and set it between them. "Your driver left this in my parking lot two days ago. Thought you'd want to see what's inside before I tossed it." Sherrie opened the latch. Tools sat on top, ordinary and worn. She lifted the tray and found the false bottom underneath. Medical supplies, building materials, food stores—all marked with her stamps, all meant for deliveries that had come up light. Barry leaned against the counter. "He's been meeting traders here for weeks. I didn't know what he was moving until Gary started asking questions." Sherrie closed the box. Her driver had been stealing long enough to get comfortable, long enough to leave evidence sitting in plain sight. Sherrie paid Barry with a bottle of pre-war whiskey and took the toolbox with her. She knew where her driver would be by midday—the eastern route had a schedule he couldn't break without raising suspicion. She'd strip him of his routes, his contacts, and his cut before the sun went down. The insider problem was solved. The Ravens still controlled the northern tunnel, and her father still didn't know the operation had been bleeding stock for months. But she'd closed one leak, and that was enough to buy her time to deal with the rest.