by Leah Spiegel
“Don’t worry about us,” Lizzie assured him.
It terrified me how unprotected Hawkins was and he didn’t even know it. We continued to plot for the next hour, until we started to see signs for the amphitheater as the sun edged closer to the horizon with every minute. Knowing it would come down to the wire, we had to execute our plans perfectly to stop the band from crossing the deadly stage. Kosic pulled the semi down a dirt road away from concert traffic. I was just glad to be finally doing something when Riley helped me down from the truck.
He pulled me into a hug. “I love you,” he murmured into my hair. “Try not to get yourself killed, okay?” He smiled down at me.
“Love you too.” I smiled up at him. “Tell Harlow that I said hello.”
Riley rolled his eyes and smiled before he walked over to kiss Lizzie’s forehead. He wiped away the remaining mascara from her face with the end of his t-shirt.
“Let’s do this,” Kosic urged.
“We’ll head off first.” I led the way down the dirt path with Lizzie as planned. We headed towards the concert traffic and I looked back at Riley one more time. He stood with his hands on his hips. The concern and fear he felt for us was evident in his expression. God, please don’t let anything happen to him. Lizzie grabbed my hand and squeezed it, bringing my attention back to our part of the plan.
We walked out beside the line of cars that were stuck in the usual drag of concert traffic. Lizzie started thumbing to hitch a ride. It didn’t take long before we were snuggled in the back of a green Jeep Wrangler. Lizzie did all the flirting with the two guys that had picked us up. Thank god, I didn’t have to do anything but keep my head down. I did catch their names, however, and smiled up at them occasionally throughout the conversation. Trevor and Casey were brothers, well, I guess half-brothers, I wasn’t really keeping up. Trevor was the all American looking guy: tall, built and way too handsome for his own good. Casey was shorter with dark hair, but just as cute.
Trevor pulled into a space and cut off the engine. Staring dejectedly out at the packed parking lot of fans, it was weird to see the normal, happy chaos of the crowd. No one knew what Cyrus had in mind for them if we didn’t succeed at stopping it. Nudging my side, Lizzie brought me out of my thoughts so that I would get out behind her. She took a beer and handed it to me while we hung out at the back of the jeep. It was killing me that we had to sit there and try to blend in so we could get close enough to warn Hawkins. Casey had a ball cap on and Lizzie snatched it so she could put it on her head. It was way too big for her, but she looked cute as usual.
“Here, Joie.” She put the ball cap on my head. “You’re the Cowboys fan.” For a fleeting second Lizzie couldn’t help but laugh. If wearing this wasn’t love, I didn’t know what was. It did hide part of my face, making me just a little less recognizable so it was a good idea. She convinced them to head up earlier than usual when the first set of fans started their ascent up the hill to the pavilion. They both had taken an instant liking to Lizzie, but Casey got stuck with me. Lizzie looped her arm through Trevor’s and looked up at him while they chatted. I didn’t have the frame of mind to flirt as we approached the security gates, but Lizzie turned around to include Casey in their conversation from time to time which kept him happy. As Lizzie flirted, I scanned the place looking for security. After searching for a minute, I saw Miller and Hampton looking at the crowd on either side of the lanes leading to the gates. Lizzie must have seen them too because she leaned into Trevor in the way a romantic couple would have done, but he didn’t seem to mind. Tugging the ball cap down around my eyes, I looked over at Casey.
“So.” The panic rose in my chest while I tried to have a normal conversation. “How long have you been following the band?”
Casey’s face twitched with surprise that I had finally started talking. “A couple years,” he estimated. “And you?”
“Only this summer,” I confessed as we inched closer down the line.
“So you’re not like a fan, fan,” he said in a slight disapproving tone.
“No, I’m a fan, fan,” I corrected him.
“Right,” he said unconvincingly while drifting further from my side.
Leaning into him, I whispered, “I mean, I know the band.”
“Sure,” he taunted.
“Actually, I know Hawkins,” I said determinedly.
“Yeah, okay, so do I,” he snickered.
Oh my gosh, where was Hawkins when I needed him? Already knowing that I sounded like a lunatic to this little rock star wannabe, with his dark “Hawkins’” hair and thin leather necklaces dangling around his neck.
“Hawkins and I,” I whispered, deciding to confess it all. “We’re like a thing.”
“And it just gets better.” He laughed.
Lizzie’s face faltered when she glanced back at us. If Trevor and she were a happy romantic couple then we were the opposite. Lizzie just lifted her eyebrows and turned back around like it worked either way. We were so preoccupied with the little snit we were having that we made it through security without a hitch.
“So you’re a groupie, huh?” he teased.
Tugging my hat down while fuming, I followed behind Lizzie while moving away from Hampton at the gate and down to the t-shirt vendor.
“You know what,” I muttered when out of earshot. “Yeah, I am. I’m a groupie. I said it,” I emphasized. “I’m a groupie.” God, if Hawkins could hear me now he would probably laugh and give that little shit a tip.
Lizzie turned around and smiled up at Trevor then Casey. “We really have enjoyed your company, but we have to go.” Lizzie went to grab my hand. “Oh, and she’s telling the truth.” She turned to look back at Casey. “She is Hawkins’ girlfriend. I’m just glad she’s finally admitting it to someone.” Lizzie took my hand and led me away from the bewildered guys.
We saw that Woodley was walking up towards us and we instantly separated. Pretending to get in line to buy a beer, I pulled down my ball cap and hid among the slew of fans. Watching through the corner of my eye as Woodley passed behind us. Lizzie made eye contact from the line at the next vendor down below. She nodded at me and we both took off again. Stopping, I leaned against one of the trees that looped around the outskirts of the lawn so I could give Lizzie time to make it to the second pavilion. She flashed her backstage pass, while continuing to go under the radar, and made her way down to the lower pavilion.
Glancing up at the lighting platforms, I tried looking for Riley, but I couldn’t see him or Kosic. Lizzie shimmied her way down to the orchestra pit, but instead of sitting down she approached the venue crew in front of the stage. Security did a double take in her direction like we had expected. I tossed the ball cap to the side and stepped out of the shadows of the greenery. Walking down the pathway, I followed the curve around the back of the second pavilion and in front of the lawn. Once by the aisle leading down the pavilion, I flashed my ticket to the venue crew and they let me pass by them. Raising my arms back and forth, I walked down the center of the aisle. Security was all abuzz while talking back and forth through their ear pieces. They moved away from the seats in the lower pavilion to converge around me.
As they came, I watched Lizzie explain what was going on to the crew in front of the stage. She had the men’s undivided attention like we had hoped. Just as security roughly grabbed a hold of me and dragged me down the aisle, I saw someone quickly usher Lizzie away from the stage. My heart sank with the realization that our plan wasn’t going to work. Then I saw Hampton at the end of the aisle.
“Hawkins’ bodyguard rigged the stage!” I exclaimed while being walked down to the lower pavilion.
“Yeah, well, he told me that you rigged the bomb on that bus that exploded.” He roughly grabbed my arm and escorted me away from the stage.
“Think about it Hampton, please! How could I have deleted the tapes of Cyrus picking us up backstage?” I grappled with the realization. “It was Harrison who wanted to know our position before the bus blew up, w
asn’t it? A little convenient, don’t you think? Why the hell would we be walking towards the bus and not far away from it if we blew it up?”
“I know,” I continued, “I know that you had to have felt that something was wrong, too.” I tried to reason with him as he dragged me to the backstage door. “It’s your job to notice things other people would overlook. It must have felt impossible to think, to wonder how could he? He’s a member of security. He’s your friend.”
His eyes suddenly soften and I knew that I was right.
“But I’m telling you this is another one of those times that you have to just follow your instincts,” I stressed. “We didn’t blow up that bus and you know it.”
Loud clapping came from the direction of the backstage door. Turning my head away from Hampton, I looked over at Harrison. “That was quite a performance you just put on, Ms. Hall.” Apparently catching the end of what I had just said, Harrison continued, “But lying is what you do best, isn’t it? I’ll take it from here,” he told the other bodyguard.
Harrison grabbed me up by the arm and led me through the backstage door away from Hampton. Trying to figure out what I could do, I drew a blank. This just couldn’t be happening, I had to stop him! Harrison was so strong that he didn’t exactly need me to walk to get me down the long corridor. Tripping over my shoes a couple times while trying to keep up, I saw Woodley approach us from the opposite end. Harrison held up a hand. “Don’t worry I got this,” he assured the other bodyguard before he pushed through a door and dragged me in behind him.
“Where’s The Reaper?” He whispered hoarsely once we were alone again.
I didn’t answer so he wrapped his hands around my shoulders and shook me again. “Where is he?!”
“You’re supposed to be an ex-FBI agent, where are your morals?” I blurted out.
“Why do you care about my morals,” he hissed.
“Cyrus is a psychopath,” I yelled while trying to put it all together. “But you can’t be evil. I’ve seen the way you interact with Hawkins. You care about him.”
“Don’t make me ask you again!” He screamed in my face while squeezing my arms that still hurt from the accident.
Ignoring the pain, I asked, “Was it for the money?”
“No, it wasn’t for the money,” he barked before thinking.
“Then why?”
“I don’t have time for this,” he huffed.
“What about the stage?”
“It’s triggered to collapse with the first chord,” he confessed like it was irrelevant information now.
I started hyperventilating. My heart felt like it was going to burst out of my chest. My shoulders caved and I openly started to sob. I didn’t care about Harrison or what he was going to do with me. All I felt was the gut wrenching pain of knowing that Hawkins was walking to his death.
“Shut up!” Harrison hissed and quickly grabbed me by my upper arm before he dragged me out of the room. “I just need to get you back to The Reaper.” He pulled me further down the corridor and away from the stage.
“Then…you’re heading the wrong way,” I stuttered while realizing that I needed to get to Hawkins. “Cyrus’s getting ready to watch the stage collapse.”
Harrison pulled me up by the cuff of my shirt until we were eye to eye. “You better not be lying to me,” he growled.
“I’m not lying. Cyrus wants to record the stage collapsing for everyone to see on the nightly news and internet.” I said it so convincingly that I almost believed it myself. Harrison seemed too easily convinced when I realized this was probably the plan from the beginning. He had a firm grip on the back of my arm as we retraced our steps back down the long hallway. Right before we turned the bend to the opening of the side of the stage, Harrison whispered in my ear, “Don’t try any funny business.”
We rounded the corner when Harrison suddenly came to a halt. The band was huddled around the door leading onto the stage while looking up at the lighting screens. It was playing a movie on it, a homemade movie.
“Did Hawkins ever tell you why he looks so miserable all the time? Why he couldn’t write anymore?” My stomach dropped as I watched the video of Cyrus and me in the van. Cyrus sounded even crazier than I remembered, but I was relieved because this meant the lighting crew knew and could stop the band from crossing the stage.
“You wired his bus?” The shock in my voice boomed out of the concert speakers.
“America needed to know, they had a right to know,” he stressed, “why Hawkins was so cynical all the time.”
“You see, I’m not here for the ransom money, Joie. No, no, no,” he muttered. “I believe Hawkins might have mentioned his brother was dead. How it was so tragic for him.” The video continued to play. It was haunting to watch my reactions to what Cyrus was saying. My terrifying looks were probably giving him the performance of his dreams.
“He knowingly let his brother drive home drunk,” Cyrus said in a hushed voice. “That’s not going to do well for his ratings.”
Hawkins shivered and then did a double take when he saw me out of the corner of his eye.
“He could have stopped his brother, but he didn’t,” Cyrus continued overhead. “And now my wife and daughter are dead, too. He took the ones I loved from me and now I’m going to take the one he loves from him.”
“It’s Harrison,” I shouted in the background on the videotape. “That’s why he gave Lizzie such a hard time about her social. He wanted to leave her vulnerable with us in the van rather than safe with Warren.”
“Oh, very good,” Cyrus praised on the overhead screen.
Harrison looked up at the screen and then back down to Hawkins. “I had nothing to do with this,” Harrison muttered while slowly backpedaling with a hand still tightly wrapped around my arm. Warren glanced over at Hawkins and then turned around, too.
“What are you doing with Joie, Wayne?” Hawkins asked cautiously.
“He’s been working with Cyrus!” I shouted.
“Shut up,” Harrison said while fiercely yanking my arm.
“They rigged the stage to collapse!” I continued.
Hawkins started towards us, but Harrison whipped out a gun and put it to my head. “I don’t want to hurt anyone,” he forewarned. “But I need her.” He backed up even further down the hallway. “You don’t understand, The Reaper has my wife and kids. If I don’t give him something in return he will kill them.”
“No, you don’t understand,” I tried to explain that Cyrus was already dead, but Harrison wrapped a hand around my mouth and muffled out my voice.
Woodley to the left of the door went to radio for help. “Ah, ah, ah.” Harrison aimed the gun at the other bodyguard. “None of that,” he cautioned.
“No one better follow us either.” He aimed the gun at Hawkins who had come one step closer. “Or I will have no other choice but to shoot her.”
“Cyrus doesn’t want her, he wants me. I’m the one he blames.” Hawkins edged closer to stage.
“How does it work?” Hawkins asked him. “The stage, what is it rigged by?”
“No, the girl is enough.” Harrison sounded flooded with guilt by what Hawkins was planning to do now that the scene was playing out in front of him.
“No, I won’t let you hurt her. You run down that hallway and I will hunt you down,” he said through clenched teeth. “This is your best option.”
Harrison stood still contemplating his decision as he easily kept me contained with his arm wrapped around my waist and his hand covering my mouth.
“How is it triggered?!” Hawkins shouted while startling Harrison.
“You play the first chord,” he said flatly.
“And the crowd,” Hawkins asked. “Are they in danger?”
“No, he wanted as many witnesses as possible. The stage falls in on itself,” he explained in the same disheartened tone.
Hawkins backed further away and insisted, “Let her go.”
“I’m not stupid!”
“Jus
t enough that I know you won’t run away with her,” Hawkins explained. “The further I move to the stage, the further she moves away from you. It’s not like you don’t have a gun aimed at her.”
Harrison released his grip around my mouth and shoved me forward. “Hawkins, don’t do it!” I bolted forward and Harrison jerked me back by my shirt.
“Joie, I’m alive again because of you. If he kills you, it will be as though I died too. This is the only option I can live with,” he said before turning around to walk over to his guitar. The crowd roared to life with his entrance to the stage. Hawkins turned in Harrison’s direction with his arms held out.
“Move,” Harrison ordered while pointing the end of the gun in my back. I inched closer to Warren who had his hand held out for me. “Watch it,” Harrison warned Warren. “Not until he plays the first chord.”
I watched in horror as Hawkins threw the guitar strap over his head. “Hello, y’all,” he said to the thunderous applause of the crowd below. The spotlight zinged around to warn Hawkins. Harlow or maybe even Riley was trying to warn him. He was going to die and I couldn’t stop it. Tilting my head in Harrison’s direction, I tried one last time, “You know Cyrus is dead, right?”
“Why should I believe you?” he snapped.
“It’s coming up on the clip. The semi runs him over. You have nothing to offer a dead person.”
“Shut up!” he roared as he backpedaled down the hallway, but his aim was steady.
“Cyrus is dead!” I shouted back to Harrison. “And now Hawkins is going to die, too,” I hissed. “Except this time it will be your fault. Just watch the end of the movie!”
Hawkins spoke into the microphone bringing everyone’s attention back to the stage. “The band thought that we would do something a little different tonight. Start things off a little quieter so I’m going to do a little solo,” Hawkins explained over the loud video clip in the background. Cyrus’s face was plastered everywhere on the stage as if he was watching everything unravel down below. Hawkins tall frame looked so small on the stage and so very alone.
The death scene was coming up. Hawkins looked down as he arranged his fingers along the fret board of the guitar; the last chord he might ever play. On the screen the door opened and everyone could see Cyrus trying to balance himself before he jumped. Cyrus struggled to hold on while screaming. Harrison’s eyes grew wide with fear when in the next second Cyrus was sucked under the truck. I bolted towards the stage not caring if he still decided to shoot me as Hawkins strummed the first chord.