Come Join The Murder

by Holly Rae Garcia

  Hard steel dug into the side of her neck as she glanced at the backseat of the car through the rear-view mirror. He was there, he had come back to her. Ollie with his sunburned cheeks and beautiful smile. Their eyes met and he nodded, then giggled and kicked his feet.

  Rebecca slid her left hand down from the wheel and rested it against her side, careful to keep her eyes on the road. They were going forward slowly through the thick rain, and were almost to the top of the bridge. Her fingertips brushed the door handle. James started whistling, looking for a radio station with his right hand, while holding the knife at her throat with his left. Her fingers inched towards the latch.

  The smooth tunes of WYJC filled the car, loud enough to mask the ‘click’ of the doors locking. She brought her left hand back up to grip the steering wheel.

  Rebecca turned to James and smiled. His eyebrows rose in surprise, then his face fell into an arrogant grin. She slammed on the gas, turning to the right as soon as she got to the peak of the bridge. The car lurched forward, into the small barrier, sending them both hurtling forward. The knife slipped from his fingers and fell, hitting the middle console and bouncing into the shadows of the backseat.

  “Bitch!” James grabbed for the wheel.

  Rebecca held on with a strength that surprised even her as she shoved the gas pedal down on the floor as hard as she could. Tires spun against the slippery surface of the road while the front bumper crumpled against the short concrete barrier.

  As determined as she was, he was still stronger. She strained to hold on as he pushed the wheel an inch to the left.

  The angry storm thrashed violently, almost hiding the squealing of breaks on the asphalt behind them. The back of the car caved in as a truck slammed into them, caught the edge of their bumper, and shoved them up and over the small barrier. For a second, time stood still in the small car as it tumbled upside down over the edge of the bridge. Rebecca and James moved as if through deep water, everything slower than it should have been, pushing against an unseen force.

  Then they fell.

  As the black Ford heaved through the air above the canal, James tried to scream at Rebecca, but only whimpered. Blood dripped down the side of his head where he had slammed into the windshield. Jagged shards of glass protruded from his scalp, and air whooshed into the car through the small hole in the glass.

  Ignoring him, she turned to face the backseat and strained against the seatbelt straps. There was Ollie, smiling at her and reaching out his hand. She took it in hers and squeezed.

  They hit the water with enough force to pop the rest of the windshield out into the rushing current, and with it, James’ body.

  32

  FRIDAY, JUNE 8TH

  “Hey, are you still in town? Looks like the AAA guy is here already, we’ll just ride with him. You can meet us at the mechanic shop, it’s closer to home anyway.”

  “I’m not, but I can turn around. They got there fast.”

  “Yeah, I thought so too. But he’s not in a tow truck. This is probably the car service so we don’t have to ride with the tow guy. Either way, they really need to invest in nicer vehicles. This van looks like it’s about to fall apart. I’ll call you back when we’re on the road again. Love you.”

  The gravel crunched under the van’s tires as it rolled to a stop ten feet away from Jon. A muscular man with wavy black hair stepped out from the driver’s side. As he walked towards the blue Chevy, his intense brown eyes belied the grin on his face. Jumping down from the passenger seat was a shorter man with shaggy blond hair. He wasn’t smiling.

  The first man held out his hand to Jon. “Hey there, having some trouble?”

  “Yeah, are you guys with AAA?” Jon asked as he shook his hand.

  “Nope, we were just driving by and saw you stopped here. I’m... Mark, this is my buddy... Cal.”

  Cal, the shorter man, nodded at Jon.

  “I’m Jon. Nice to meet ya, but I should be good. I’ve got AAA coming, they should be here any minute now.”

  “Well we don’t mind keeping you company ‘till they get here, do we Cal?”

  The blond man shuffled his feet and shrugged.

  Jon glanced back towards the car but wasn’t able to see Oliver from where he stood. Silence filled the space between Jon and the car, where just five minutes ago singing had projected out across the water. Jon hoped Oliver had finally given in to the nap he had been fighting ever since they left the beach.

  The brown haired man pulled a cigarette from his shirt pocket, a lighter from his jeans, and held the pack out to Jon.

  “No thanks, I quit about five years ago. The wife would kill me if I came home smelling like smoke.” He chuckled nervously.

  “Oh man, I get it. My old bitch used to hate the smell of smoke, didn’t she,” he paused and turned towards the other man, “Cal?”

  “Oh yeah, sure... Mark,” the man assuming the name of Cal grabbed one of the cigarettes and lit it, looking out towards the water as he drew in a long, deep drag.

  “Yeah, I never notice the smell but they say you get used to it after a while so who knows... maybe I do stink. Do you think I stink, Jon?”

  Jon’s eyes narrowed, “Not at all.”

  “Aw you’re nice, isn’t he nice Cal?”

  “Sure,” he mumbled, keeping his eyes on the water.

  “Yeah, it’s too bad. It’s always easier when they’re not nice, but what can you do?”

  Jon took a step towards his car, but the man calling himself Mark was faster. He darted between Jon and the blue Chevy.

  “Where ya goin’ man? I thought we were hanging out?”

  “Look, I don’t want any trouble, and AAA should be here any minute.”

  “Oh, it’s no trouble, no trouble at all.” He winked and pulled a knife from his back pocket and flicked it open, the sunlight catching on the sharp blade. “Just give me your wallet and we’ll be out of your way.”

  The shorter man dropped his cigarette and stepped on it. “Dude, just give us your wallet and we’ll leave, promise.”

  “What are we now, the fucking boy scouts?” the taller man sneered at his companion. “You ‘promise’? You gonna pinkie swear now?”

  “Just get the wallet, we need to get out of here.”

  “Easy there, you don’t call the damn shots. Just calm your tits, we’ll be done when I say we’re done.”

  Jon inched backwards while they argued, keeping his eyes on the tall man. He eyed the distance to the car, he knew he would need to go around them to reach Oliver, but he wasn’t as fast as he used to be. Too many years of pizza nights and fast food had taken their toll. Just as he was about to make a run for it, the back of his left foot hit the edge of a crumpled coke can, sending it scrambling a few feet across the gravel.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” the taller man said. “I’m not finished with you. Didn’t I say give me your wallet?” He pointed the knife at Jon’s jeans and gestured with his wrist.

  Jon pulled his worn wallet from his back pocket and held it out to the man. He told himself that it was okay, really. He would cancel the credit cards and bank card, and he could always order another copy of his driver’s license and social security card. He should have listened to Rebecca when she told him not to carry that last item around with him. She said If you ever lose your wallet or get mugged, they have all your information, and who knows what they’ll do with it. She was right, of course. She was almost always right. Well, except when she forgot to put a new spare in the trunk.

  The taller man took the wallet with his free hand and tossed it to his friend. “See how much is in there, will you?”

  He rifled through the wallet before answering with a sigh, “Thirty-two dollars.”

  The man calling himself Mark stared at Jon, “Are you fucking serious with this shit? There’s no way you only have thirty-two dollars.”

  “We... I... went to the beach and bought some stuff... I swear that’s all I have.” He flinched as the man holding
the knife took another step towards him.

  “I think he’s holding out, Tom-I mean Cal. He’s got more, he just don’t wanna give it up.”

  “Man, come on. I believe him, let’s just get outta here.” The shorter man turned and headed back towards their van.

  “Nah, you’re holding out. Where’s the rest? In a damn sock somewhere? In your car?” Jon’s eyes widened at the mention of the Chevy. “I bet it’s in your car isn’t it? Cal, keep an eye on him, will ya? I’m gonna check this out.”

  Jon reached out and grabbed the man’s arm, needing to pull him away from the car and his sleeping son. The man turned towards Jon, knife still in his outstretched hand, and plunged the sharp tip deep into the soft flesh of Jon’s stomach. For a moment, both stared at each other in disbelief. The only sounds were the rumbling of cars overhead and the gentle lapping of the water.

  The silence was broken by Jon’s scream as he tried to break away, but the man calling himself Mark had a tight grip on him with his free hand. With his other, he pulled the knife out of Jon’s stomach before sinking it back in, lower and deeper than the first time. Dark red blood swam in rivulets down Jon’s shirt and jeans, saturating both. Jon grunted, a deep guttural sound, and continued the fight to break free. The tall man, finally noticing the blood on Jon’s clothing, held him further away from himself, trying to keep his own clothes free of the mess. Jon saw his opportunity and pulled himself free with one final jerk, then ran in the only direction he could, towards the water.

  He stood at the edge and turned to look back towards the men. In front of him, the tall man was jogging in his direction. To the left and behind the men was Jon’s car. His heart sank as he saw Oliver poke his head up above the window in the back seat. He had gotten out of his booster seat and was watching them, blond curls barely showing in the shadows. Jon made eye contact with his son and pushed towards the ground with his left hand, hoping Oliver would understand and duck out of sight. Before he could turn back to the tall man, it was too late. The hand holding the knife was already arcing through the air towards him. Jon barely registered it out of the corner of his eye before it sank into the soft flesh between his neck and his chin, just to the left of his Adam’s apple. He reached up, clutched the sharp edges of the blade with his hands, but was unable to pull it out. He looked into the eyes of the man who held the knife, eyes that were bright with excitement and dull at the same time.

  Jon stepped backwards and fell into the water with a small splash. The cars rumbling across the bridge overhead didn’t slow down, nor did the boats off in the distance. Only the fish moved to the side as his body slipped beneath the surface. As the current carried him away, his car, and Oliver, drifted out of sight.

  Tommy was screaming, “James, what the hell, man? What did you do?! We need to get out of here, now!”

  “What you need to do is calm the hell down, and what we need to do is get rid of this car.”

  “You didn’t have to kill him, he didn’t even know our real names!”

  “It’s not like I meant to, Tommy. Now shut the fuck up and help me with the car.” James picked up his pace and hustled towards the blue Chevy.

  Tommy followed James, like he knew he would, like he always did. James reached the car first and glanced in the back seat. “There’s a kid seat back here, well at least the kid ain’t with him. That would be awkward as hell.”

  “James, forget about the car, let’s go!” Tommy whined.

  “At least the dumbass left the keys in the ignition, here I’ve got it in drive... grab that rock over there.” Tommy picked up the rock and tossed it to James, a little harder than he needed to. James glared at him before wedging it onto the gas pedal. He shifted the car into drive and jumped out just as the car started to roll towards the water. They both began to breathe a sigh of relief as all evidence of their little... mishap... was about to go over the edge and disappear. Just as the front tires cleared the edge of the embankment and the car started to dip, they saw a small boy’s head pop up in the back window. His curly blond hair matched that of the man they had just killed.

  “Fuck,” they whispered in unison.

  James grabbed Tommy as he started to run towards the car. “Let it go, he’s seen us anyway, you want to go to jail? ‘Cause I don’t. Just let it happen, Tommy.”

  “But... he’s a kid James! A baby!” He struggled to get free, but it was too late. The rear tires had just cleared the edge and the car was sinking fast. Water was already up to the door handles.

  “Let’s get out of here.” James was halfway back to the van before he realized Tommy wasn’t behind him. “Tommy, now! We need to leave! There’s nothing else we can do!”

  Tommy jogged to the van and climbed in without another word. Through the dusty window he watched the car bob in the water as they pulled away.

  Oliver whimpered as the water rose in the car, rushing past the front seat and closer to him. He lost his footing from his perch on top of the car seat and splashed down into the murky water. Small arms flailed out and his legs kicked, but he kept sinking into the depths with the car. Memories of an unsuccessful swim lesson surfaced, but he had left before he was able to learn even the basics. Unable to swim to the small air pocket at the top of the car, his throat burned with trapped oxygen and his ears pounded. He opened his mouth to scream again for his dad but water rushed in, pouring down his throat and filling his lungs. Oliver’s eyes bulged as he clawed at his throat, trying to breathe. Bubbles gurgled up from his open mouth as he struggled to get to the top of the car, but it was too late. Eyes glazed over, his small body floated to the top of the Chevy, hands still clutching a very soggy blue elephant.