A Sublime Casualty

by Addison Moore

  “Oh my God.”

  I never saw this coming.

  Theo

  The Wakefield Police Department looks a hell of a lot different once you’re in the wrong shoes. Fiona does the bookings procedure, calling me a damn fool under her breath at least sixteen times, all the while reassuring me anyone would have done the same given the circumstances.

  I’ve sung my song of innocence enough, but no one seems to listen, so I shut my trap as she lands me in an interrogation room promising to help me get this nightmare sorted.

  It feels as if an eternity passes before the door opens up again and in storms Jackson, his hair disheveled, his face fully pissed.

  “What in the hell is happening?” He yanks out the chair across from me and lands in it backwards.

  “Did you call Thomas?”

  “Yes.” He wipes down his face with his hand. “He said he knows the judge in the district, and he’s pushing to have bail set and posted this evening. He says he’s pulling strings and you’ll owe him.”

  “Yes. I will.” I swallow hard. “I need to use your phone. I need to talk to Charlie. Phoebe.”

  Jackson leans hard across the table, looking up at me, ripe with anger. He’s disappointed, pissed, and scared. I know his every expression, and right now I’m not interested in the least. “No way.”

  I launch over and shake the shit out of him before I snatch it from his pocket. “Do not screw with me today,” I grit it from my teeth. I text Gabby and ask her to send me Charlie’s number, and she does. I put in a call to her right away, and it eventually goes to messages. “Shit. She’s not picking up.” I look to my cousin, my brother, my only hope. “You have to listen to me. I need you to set aside your bias for one day and believe everything I’m about to tell you.” I let in about Phoebe’s past—about the torment and abuse she put up with from her stepfather, the murder, the path that led to finding my sister’s wallet. I let him know that in no way, shape, or form did I impale Miles’ skull with a blunt object. Someone else stepped in after I was through with him and finished the job. I change speeds and tell him about Neil, about the girls in Abilene, about the cryptic message on Phoebe’s phone.

  “You think she’s at Neil’s cabin?” Jackson is hardly breathing. He’s one hundred percent at attention, and that’s the best I could have hoped for.

  “Yes. Maybe. I don’t know. But if I know Phoebe, in the least she’s on her way there. As soon as Thomas gets me out of this shithole, I’ll be on my way, but I need you to go now. Get to my place. Get Lizzy’s gun.” I rattle off the combination to the safe.

  The thought makes him uneasy, but he offers up a slow nod. “I’ve heard him talk about his cabin before. Years ago. But when I brought it up recently, he mentioned he sold it.”

  “He’s full of shit. Go now. Run by the house. Call Fiona and tell her if you find Phoebe safe and sound. If not, call her anyway.”

  Jackson rises reluctantly and holds out a hand, and I slap it. “I’m only doing this because I love you. I hope for your sake you’re right and this chick isn’t some batshit escapee from an asylum somewhere. I’ll head up Creek Road and see what I can find. I’ll give Thomas another call and see where he’s at with things.” He glances out the cutout in the door, and the guard opens it up for him. “Do not do anything stupid.” He glowers at me as he steps on out. “But I have a feeling it’s too late for that.”

  Jackson leaves, and about five minutes later, Thomas shows up. It might just be my lucky day after all.

  Thomas shows up before six—posts bail, twenty-five thousand dollars, and I make him promise to keep this quiet until I can fill my mother and sister in myself. I scour the station for signs of Neil, but he’s not at his desk. His truck isn’t in the lot. Fiona shoved my belongings my way before I took off. She said she needed to keep the gun, but I took it anyway and she didn’t put up a fight.

  “You’re going to get fired,” she says it stern like a promise.

  I slip my vest on and put my gun and nightstick in its holster. The only thing I want is to get everyone I love home safe.

  Thomas gives me a lift back to the house where I find Jackson. No sign of Phoebe anywhere.

  Jackson folds his arms, looking good and pissed for me. “She took your truck and the gun. You’ve been robbed. You happy? End of story. The girl was a con.”

  I speed to the kitchen. “She took weapons, knives. She took the gun to keep her safe. She knows how to use it. And she took my truck to get to the cabin.” I look to Thomas and Jackson. “Which one of you is going to give me his truck?”

  Jackson fishes the keys from his pocket. “I’m coming with you, man.” It comes out tired, more out of obligation than with enthusiasm to find my sister, to find Phoebe at this point.

  Thomas gives a quick look around. “You are in deep shit. I’m staying put. Call for backup, would you? Do not go up there on your own.”

  I look to Jackson, unsure of what in the hell to do. There’s not a soul at the precinct who would side with me on this one. Neil is well-liked, well-appreciated. I’m out on bail for murder. I’m pretty sure I’m on my own with this one. I glance to Thomas. “If we’re not back by midnight, send reinforcements to Neil’s cabin. All I know is that it’s tucked in the Tennyson Hills. In the meantime—” I shoot him the picture I took of that acrostic. “Find someone to figure out who sent this. I want to crack this mystery wide open like the rotten egg it’s turning out to be.”

  Jackson and I take off for the Tennyson Hills, and I drive like a man possessed.

  I’m coming for you, Phoebe. And I’m hoping to find Lizzy there, too.

  Night falls hard, and it’s a virtual blackout in the woods. I keep my brights on for now, but the closer we get, it’s only going to serve as a beacon to Neil if he’s up here. It might endanger anyone he’s holing up in that cabin of his. My God, I hope Phoebe is nowhere near that place. The dirt trail that leads up the hillside twists along a stream, and it hits me.

  “That poem.” I pull my phone out and bring it up.

  Neil has a cabin somewhere in the Tennyson Hills, a couple miles north from his house. I glance down at that acrostic one more time. “Meandering through where the rainbows live.” I shake my head. “Trout. Rainbow trout. He was giving us directions. He’s been screwing with us this entire time.”

  Jackson takes the phone. “Enduring winter’s wrath with fire in my belly. Wood burning stove, fireplace. That’s what it is. I don’t know what we’re going to find when we get there, but I want you to prepare yourself.”

  An image of Karen Gilroy’s gray, lifeless body comes to mind. I paid her a visit in the morgue once I learned Lizzy’s wallet was found nearby. I needed to see what Lizzy was potentially up against. Just the shock of seeing her bruised body, that open gash on her left thigh as if she got caught on barbed wire, it was too much to bear. She was beaten. Her life ended because of those bruises. The heroin might have been the official reason she’s not breathing anymore, but she wouldn’t have lasted long regardless. The thought of seeing my sister that way sickens me.

  “We’re going to find her.” My adrenaline skyrockets as I take the twists and turns as fast as I can. The truck skids out from underneath us as we pick up speed. “I can feel it, Jackson. I can physically feel us getting closer to Lizzy. So help me God, if she’s not breathing—if he’s got her chained up like some animal—I’m going to hunt him down and kill him.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I’ll be right there cheering you on.”

  The road narrows as we come upon a forest to our left.

  “Hey”—Jackson swats me—“put it in reverse. I think I saw something.”

  I drive back about twenty yards.

  Jackson shines a flashlight into the woods and, sure enough, it reflects off a brake light. I pull in slow, my heart going off in my chest like a steel drum.

  “That’s my truck. Phoebe must have gone the rest of the way on foot.” I pull in across from her, sandwiching Jackson’s
truck between two pines. We get out, and the smell of smoke tells us the rest of the story.

  Jackson ticks his head toward the east, and we make our way in the direction of the smokestack.

  Hang on, Phoebe. I am coming to get you.

  Whatever you do—save Neil for me.

  Phoebe

  Tennyson Hills is murky, engulfed in a vacuum of darkness, its own dying star, save for the lighthouse of illumination streaming from Neil’s cabin. You could see this place from the moon.

  I camped between the bushes out back, waiting to see if either Ashley or Neil would be heading back to town, but that doesn’t seem to be happening.

  Ashley. It was her I saw seated on the sofa with a dark-haired woman seated next to her, each with a cup of something steaming hot in their hands. I couldn’t see Neil, but I heard his voice. It sounded as if they were having a perfectly amicable conversation. Nothing riotous, nothing out of the norm, if the norm concerned a woman who’s been missing for the better part of a year—if indeed it’s Lizzy.

  A sharp cry comes from the house, and my heart thumps right into my ears. I hop up on the porch once again, avoiding the area of the creaking plank altogether, and lean back against the logs that line the outside. Shouting ensues. Something has clearly disrupted their friendly tête-à-tête. Maybe Neil was tipped off about the fact Theo and I were onto him?

  The sound of glass shattering explodes from inside, and I struggle to inch my way to the window. My knee knocks into something and sends it clattering to the ground. The damn plank! My entire body freezes. The sound of a door rattling open startles me, and I jump from the porch, setting off the floorboards like a squeaky alarm.

  “Well, well”—Neil belts it out as my eyes meet with his—“looks like we’ve got guests.”

  I dive into the shrubbery just behind Ashley’s car and then scamper back to my feet, thumping my way through the meadow like a heartbeat.

  The world around me disappears in its own blackness, the light from the house quickly defusing. I just need to get away so he can’t find me. My eyes strain as I try to make out the landscape. If I can get to the woods, I can climb a tree, better yet, I could hide between the boulders that are scattered around the area. My feet keep moving at a decent clip, tipping over twigs and rocks that give me away with each displaced thump.

  A wash of light floods in from my left, and I dart into the heart of a scrub oak, nearly putting out an eye in the process. The light drifts to me slowly, exposing the branches still wagging unnaturally in my wake, and I can hear his measured footsteps falling fast this way.

  “Come out, come out, wherever you are,” he sings into the night, his voice high and cheerful. I’m guessing his weapon is drawn, but I’ve got Lizzy’s gun myself and it’s pointed in his direction. Although, I’m willing to bet good money he’s a better shot than I am. And no offense to the knives I’ve brought along, but they’re not doing much other than warming my back at the moment. I have to move—get out of striking range. I edge my way to the left and don’t stop until I’ve crested the woods and bury myself in the overgrowth. I’m smaller than Neil. Theoretically, I should be able to get into some nook and cranny where he can’t reach or see me, but then he’s got both a flashlight and a gun. I’ll be the fish in the proverbial barrel.

  The sound of gunshots rings out, unreasonably loud as the scrub oak I just maneuvered out of shakes and rattles.

  Holy hell. My breathing is erratic. If I keep this up, I’ll pass out in fear within a minute flat. I have to keep my head about me. Think. The only way out of this alive is to be quick on my feet. Neil might think he’s clever, but I’m here to shut down his show and prove him wrong.

  If I didn’t see the third girl—the one I’m thinking might be Lizzy, I might have left. Finding Neil and Ashley having a tryst in the woods wouldn’t be worth my time or my life. But if that girl turns out to be Theo’s sister, it was worth the effort. And now that Neil knows someone is up here, he’ll undoubtedly move her in the night. Or, I could be entirely wrong about everything and Ashley has simply enlisted someone to have a threesome with her and the randy detective. That’s possible but doubtful. Whatever is going on in that cabin is sinister, and I’m convinced it involves Charlize Hartley—alive—in the flesh. If I can incapacitate or kill Neil, would I still have Ashley to contend with? Lizzy and I could overpower her together, right? I shake my head, still uncertain of everything. I shouldn’t have come. I’ve played right into his hands. But then, Neil more than likely set up Theo for Miles’ murder, and without a doubt I was next. I had become a liability to him. Face it, I was nothing more than the next Karen Gilroy. I don’t think he’d bother to house me for a year unless the process involved torture, and after seeing Karen for myself, it more than likely does.

  The soft sound of footsteps heads in this direction, and a flash of light washes the forest white as snow.

  “There you are, you happy little hooker,” he sings.

  My feet struggle to break through a root system eating up the path as I dive deeper and deeper into the woods. The lights cut out, and I can hear him running in the other direction. I spot a series of boulders to the right, and my body slaps onto it as if my limbs were made of glue. I scamper up a sheer incline and manage to crawl into a fissure. Just as I’m about to bolster myself onto the next oversized rock, my right ankle gets caught on something. I glance down and note three pale fingers wrapped around my boot.

  A horrific scream howls from my vocal cords without my permission, and Neil unleashes a violent laugh. I glance back and catch the whites of his eyes bulging with glee. Lizzy’s gun flails in my hand. My fingers rub as I steady it with both hands and point wildly in his direction.

  It goes off with explosive thunder, the blowback causing me to hit my head against the boulder behind me.

  “You little bitch!” He knifes the air with his words.

  I step right out of my boot and catch my foot on a ledge as I boost myself onto a neighboring rock. The wind howls through the woods, screaming like a cat on fire as I roll to my left and let gravity pull me to the ground.

  Another gunshot goes off. That’s four. But it’s not simply a handgun like the one I’m shooting. It’s most likely a semi-automatic like the one Theo carries. The magazine has potential for fifteen rounds or more and is changeable in seconds. I should know. I’ve researched the hell out of it. I’m guessing with thirty shots, Neil can turn my body into Swiss cheese and still have bullets to spare for the fun of it.

  My body moves stiff and numb as I bolt over the frozen ground without a shoe, and I don’t feel a thing. The woods end abruptly as I face the meadow again with no hope of shelter from the hail of gunfire Neil is capable of. If he killed me, he could say I was a burglar. He’s already proven the fact I’ve stolen Lizzy’s identity. If I die, Neil will get away with it. I have absolutely nothing to lose, and that makes me the most dangerous person on this hill with or without the weaponry to back it.

  The sound of grunting comes from the right. He’s moving slower. Hopefully, injured and bleeding out. His breathing is labored, and that cantankerous wheeze is working for me. My only alternative is to run back toward the cabin. I’ll duck behind the cars and slide down the ridge that leads to the road where I left Theo’s truck. Maybe the best thing to do is take off with breath in my lungs and tip off the cops anonymously.

  “Phoebe!” he growls into the night. “You don’t remember me, do you?”

  I pause for a second before picking up my pace again. It’s a trap. He gets me to listen, then blows my brains out. A clearing comes up, and there’s nothing I can do about it. I run full force toward the cabin and duck underneath the porch, panting out a laugh at this seemingly hard-won victory, and then it hits me. I’m right back to being a fish in a barrel. The ceiling sits at about five feet from the slippery ground, almost affording me enough height to stand, and I keep moving until I hit the edge of the house.

  “Phoebe!” he calls into the night as if
I were his missing child, his missing cat.

  I go to launch myself out into the open and my right foot slips in the mud, dropping me to my knees, and I hit my temple on a metal pylon on the way down.

  Shit. I struggle to get my bearings, the gun in my hand stuck in the soupy mire. Leave it to me to knock myself out as I try to make a break for it. I force myself back on my feet, and a rocket of pain shoots up my right leg. My ankle feels as if it’s on crooked, but I’m still too numb to appreciate it fully.

  The hushed sound of footsteps comes this way. His erratic breathing eats up the night, and I force myself to hold my own breath. He’s right there, just outside the porch, no more than fifteen feet away from me.

  “Come on, Phoebe. You can come inside. Dry off. Join the party. I hear you’ve been dying to meet Lizzy.”

  My adrenaline spikes to unsafe levels. It was her. She’s here. Alive. My God, he’s had her all along. There’s a pinch of pride in the fact I managed to get this far, to find the girl. I’d say I was smarter than Neil, but then he was never looking for her to begin with.

  A thunderous explosion goes off, then another and another as Neil unleashes all hell on me. I drop into the mud as low as it will take me, and just before I hit the ground, a spear of heat rips through my right shoulder. A cry comes from me, but with the constant barrage of bullets he’s firing, I doubt he heard. No sooner does the gunfire pause than the sound of a woman screaming absorbs the silence. My guess is Ashley. And right about now, I’d like to see her scream a little. What in the hell is she doing here anyway? I do my best to army crawl to the next pylon. I see his feet milling around from here. If I can roll out from under this hellhole, I might have a shot at him. But it will be do or die, and most likely I will miss and I will surely die. In all of those heroic scenarios that ran through my mind on the way up here, not once did I contemplate freezing, immobilized with fear, with my own mortality hanging in the bounds. When push comes to bullets, the reality is far graver than the superhero our mind builds us up to be.