Pump Fake
Page 46
"Not your fault!" screamed the figure.
It was Ashley.
"You hear me, it's not your fault, Toby! I love you!"
The cell phone pulled back. For a moment, I could see her blurred face. Her mouth moved again and I had to read her lips to understand her.
"I love you."
Then the screen went black.
I sat down on the couch next to Bear and silently handed him my cell. I stared straight ahead oblivious to the game on the TV in front of me.
So Ashley had somehow broken away from the boys and run outside, taking her cell phone with her. She knew that Decker was unlikely to find her again and that time was running out. The cell phone was her only chance at justice and the only way she could send a message to Decker. So she stuffed the phone as far as she could inside the log, hoping that would protect it from the elements.
Of course, no one would ever look for the phone inside the log, so she had to leave a clue. The boys might find her before the police, so it had to be a clue that the boys wouldn't find--something the boys wouldn't understand. She'd begun to scratch the word ' LOG ' on the palm of her hand, but died before she completed it.
Her bravery and spirit humbled me. She knew she was going to die and yet her last act was not for herself but for Decker. She forgave him.
Bear handed me back my cell.
I became aware of the TV and watched as Decker completed another pass.
Decker.
I flipped open my cell, found Decker under my contacts and sent him all three video files.
He could never forgive himself but Ashley Hunter could.
Next, I kept my promise to Sheriff Shaw and texted him the second video file, which showed Kyle King assaulting Ashley.
The Turbos lost possession and the teams changed over. Suddenly I was looking at Bob talking to the camera. Her mouth moved silently, the TV on mute.
I looked from my cell to Bob. I had promised her the story. But I also felt an obligation to Decker. How would the publicity affect his life? Would putting these videos into the public domain be fair to him? The first and last video were particularly personal to Decker. But what about Ashley Hunter? Even though it was Liz who I was technically working for, this was not how I now felt. I had never met Ashley Hunter but I felt I had been working for her the whole time. Everything had been for this lost and forgotten teenager. She had reached out to me from the past. It was as if she had sent these video files to me personally, to tell her story, for justice to finally be done. Whatever I decided, had to be done for her.
I found Bob in my contacts and attached the video files, ready to send them to her. My finger hovered over the send button, hesitating.
THE END
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
With a passion for adventure and the outdoors, most of Michael Beck's life has been devoted to pursuing his love of extreme sports. He is a qualified whitewater instructor and has spent many years exploring Australia's wild, remote rivers. His love of photography and writing led him to have some of these exploits published. He is an expert skier and a self-confessed sports-nut. He has represented his State and country in inline hockey.
Michael Beck resides in Victoria, Australia with his wife, Jennifer, and children Jordan, Corey, Shayannah, Indiana, Jet, Jaguar and Phoenix.
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