by Kelly Moore
“That’s hard to believe,” I snort.
“I was a young man madly in love with a brilliant woman, not too much unlike you.” He stops his pacing in front of me. “I watched her wither in pain, eaten up from cancer, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it.”
“So instead of helping spread the cure for cancer and getting the pharmaceutical companies to affordably manage the cure for cancer, you team up with them to keep others from being cancer free?” I’m confused as to why he would do that.
“I’m a sick bastard like that. If she couldn’t be cured, I didn’t want anyone else to be either. I got rich off these companies, and if she were alive today, I would have the money to get her whatever she needed. Kind of like what I’m doing for myself right now.” He nods toward my equipment.
“Don’t fool yourself into thinking you’re getting any of this because you can afford it. Your goons and their guns are the only reason you’re getting anything from me.”
“Well, my money affords those goons to get me whatever I want.”
“Do you really think this woman you protest to love would have been happy with your choices now?”
He takes the chair in his hands and picks it up, throwing it across the room. “My wife is dead, so it really doesn’t matter what she thinks!” He’s baring his teeth as he thrusts out his chest. It’s the first time I’ve seen him sweat, and it frightens me.
I raise my hands up in surrender. “Let me finish my paperwork, and then you can walk away with the cure you want.” I really have a hard time picturing this man loving anyone, but his reaction suggests that maybe he did have a heart at one time. Picking up my chair off the ground, I place it back in front of my desk and sit. I make a few notes and realize he’s standing behind me again.
“Did you and your wife have any children?”
He walks around me and leans his frame on the edge of the desk. “A son.”
“Where is he?” I ask, fixing my eyes on his. I see nothing but pain coming back from them.
“He hates me for what I’ve done.” His shoulders hunch as he drops his chin to his chest.
“There is still time to change that.”
His moment of vulnerability passes in a flash. “My son is none of your concern. If you don’t hurry up, your children are going to be without a mother.” He stands, pointing at my journal.
I scribble one last note. “Are you going to take this to your people to have them test the formula?”
“No. I trust that you have formulated it correctly because you have too much to lose if it’s not right.”
“You never know. I may have created a formula to kill you by changing one little thing.”
Before I can move, his hand flies out, hitting me square in the face, jarring me out of my chair and onto the floor. He shoves the journal in his pocket and then tackles me as I try to get up. His hands are around my throat as I try to kick him off me. He keeps one hand firmly around my throat, and with the other, he cups my breast. I buck up, but his weight is too much. I can’t get him off me. I let go of his hand around my throat and dig my nails into his cheek. He’s like a man possessed and it doesn’t even phase him.
I feel the last bit of my breath leaving my body. My eyes blur over, and all I can see is my life—John and the kids.
Chapter Twenty-One
Jake
I hear a crash as I make my way back to the lab. Brook is on the floor and Knox is sprawled on top of her, and she’s not moving. Rushing over to her, I tackle him to the ground beside Brooklyn. Fists fly as we exchange punches. I get the better hand, and I’m sitting on top of him, choking the life out of him.
He manages to say in a hoarse voice, “By the time you kill me, it will be too late for her.” He cuts his eyes toward Brooklyn. I glance over, and she’s not breathing. I let go of him and crawl over to her. She has no pulse.
I start CPR. “Goddamn you, Knox!” I say between compressions.
He’s gasping for air as he rolls toward me.
I want to kill him, but if I stop, Brooklyn will die. I continue pounding on her chest as he reaches his feet. “She’s given me what I need.” He pats a book sticking out of his pocket then snatches vials off the lab table.
“Come on, Brook, breathe so I can stop him!”
“Tell John thanks for sharing his wife with me.” He laughs.
My anger overtakes my good senses, and I jump off the floor after him. I crash into him, causing the metal table to tip over and make a loud echoing sound in the room. I land on top of him; he rolls over, flipping me off, and my head cracks against the tile floor. I want to vomit on impact. My head spins as I watch as if in slow motion as Knox gets off the ground. He picks up the book that was thrown from his pocket and tucks it back inside. He walks over to the door, turning the knob, but turns around toward me.
“That little stunt you just pulled will cost you your family.” He steps outside, leaving the door open behind him.
I stumble to my feet and go back over to Brooklyn. Her eyes blink a few times, and she gasps for breath. Her hands go to the red fingerprints on her neck.
“You’re okay. He’s gone,” I say, taking her in my arms.
“Jake,” she says breathily.
I pick her up and walk outside. All the cars are gone. “Do you think you can stand on your own two feet?”
She nods, and I slowly put her down. “I need to find a phone. Is there one in your lab?” “My purse is on the table inside. My cell phone is in one of the pockets.”
I run back in only to find her purse beneath the table that was toppled over, and her screen is shattered into a hundred little pieces. “Damn it!” I slam my fist on the ground. “We’ve got to find a way out of here.”
“In the shed out back, there is an old motorcycle that I bought John and was going to have it fixed up for him, but I never got around to it with everything that has been going on,” she says as she rubs her throat.
I walk back over to her, placing my hands on her shoulders. “Are you okay?” I say, inspecting her neck.
“I’m fine, but we need to get out of here. The keys to the shed are on that shelf.” She points to one that is in the corner. I grab them and then take her hand.
“Come on. I’ll see if I can get it running.” I undo the padlock and pull open the door to the shed. “God, please tell me it runs.”
“It started right up for the man I bought it from. It’s been sitting in here since it was delivered, so I don’t know what it will do.
I put up the kickstand and walk it outside. “This is a beauty, but old,” I say as I throw my leg over it. Brook steps inside the shed and comes back out with keys, handing them to me.
I place them in the ignition and push the start button. Nothing happens. I try again, and it makes a sputtering noise and then dead silence.
“Jake, there is a store about a mile up the road. We can call for help from there.”
“Just give me a minute,” I say, getting off the bike and squatting down in front of the motor. “You wouldn’t happen to have any wiring tape?”
She bites at a fingernail. “No, but I think I have something in the lab you can use.” She darts off before I can respond, and she’s back almost as quickly. “Here, try this.”
It’s a slim roll of blue tape. I peel up the end and start fastening the loose wires. “That should work,” I say, standing.
Brooklyn climbs on this time and turns the key. It sputters, but this time it cranks up. It’s a small bike built for one, but we’ll have to make it work. “Slide back.”
“Any other time I would argue with you,” she says as she sits as far back as she can.
I throw my leg over. “You’re going to have to hold on tight because I’m going to run this thing as fast as I can.” She slides her arms around my waist, and I take off, sending gravel flying behind us. We make it to the asphalt road, and I twist back hard to gain some speed. Smoke is flowing up around us, but I don’t let it stop me. I d
on’t even bother slowing down for stoplights, which sends a few cars screeching and horns blowing. I can feel Brook’s nails digging into my skin as she’s holding on for dear life.
As I round the corner, I see the vehicle that Knox was riding in. I drive up next to him, and I can see the man that I killed slumped over in the seat and Knox is driving. He sees me and swerves in my direction, causing me to go off on the shoulder of the road. I gain control in enough time to keep us from flying head-on into a ditch.
“Jake, we don’t have time to stop him!” Brook screams next to my ear.
“If I don’t stop him, he will kill my family.” I speed back up and get behind him. I see him watching me in the rearview mirror.
“Just go around him Jake and beat him to the hospital. There is nothing we can do on this bike to slow him down.”
I know she’s right. I need get to Zoe before he does. I wait until the passing lane is open and I give the bike everything she has. As I’m next to him, he swerves again, but I’m able to keep moving past him by edging over. A truck is headed straight for us. The bike doesn’t have anything left to give me as far as speed goes. I make it past Knox’s bumper and swing the bike over into his lane as the truck nearly misses us. Knox leans to far right on the steering wheel, and it sends him flying over the shoulder of the road and into a bunch of trees.
I laugh when I look back, seeing Brooklyn shoot him a bird.
There is so much smoke coming out of the bike that we are both choking on the fumes. I slow down, hoping that it won’t completely die on us, but no such luck. It spits out some black smoke and stalls. I pull over on the side of the road and Brook jumps off. She has her thumb out trying to hitch a ride. A car blows by her, and her middle finger flies up again.
I hop off the bike and put the kickstand down. “Let’s start walking,” I tell her.
“Hell with that. We’ll never get to the hospital in time.” She unbuttons the top two buttons of her blouse.
“What are you doing?”
“Showing some cleavage.” She points down at her girls.
“I don’t think you’ve looked in the mirror lately, but we both look rather scary right now.” I motion to my beat-up face.
“Speak for yourself. You underestimate the power of these girls,” she says, shoving them higher in her bra.
“Okay, Scary Mary, whatever you say.” I chuckle and start to hit the pavement.
To my utter surprise, I hear a diesel truck pull over behind me. I turn around, and Brooklyn is standing on her tiptoes with her head poked inside the open window, talking to the driver.
“Come on, Jake,” she yells as she’s opening the passenger side door. She climbs inside and scoots over on the bench seat, and I slide in next to her.
“I told you. These girls work every time.” She winks at me.
“You know the driver, don’t you?’
She shrugs and smiles.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Jake
We have several miles of interstate to drive before we hit the hospital exit, and even though we’re driving seventy-five miles per hour, it’s still not fast enough for me. All I can hope for is that Zoe hasn’t had the baby yet. I’ll never forgive myself if I miss the birth of my daughter. I know the guilt missing something like this can cause. I see it every day on John’s face.
“Where you two going?” the man behind the wheel asks.
“To the hospital just a few miles up the road,” Brooklyn answers.
“Everything okay? Either of you hurt?”
“No, we’re fine, Paul. Jake has a baby on the way, and we just happened to be stranded when the bike we were on gave out. You’re really saving us here.”
“Is that right?” he asks, leaning forward to look at me. “Well, congratulations.”
“Thank you.” I look at my watch, counting down the minutes until we reach our exit.
Out of the corner of my eye, something flashes in the passenger side mirror. I look up, leaning forward to get a better view in the mirror. I can clearly see Knox behind the wheel of a Ford F-250, and he’s coming at us full speed.
“We have trouble,” I think out loud.
“What?” Brooklyn asks, turning to look out the back window.
I quickly place my hands on her head and pull it down into my lap while bending down over her. “It’s Knox. There’s no way he could know we’re in this truck unless he sees us.”
“Uh, Paul? Would you mind picking up the speed a bit?” Brooklyn asks.
He nods, eyes flashing up to the rearview mirror. “Are you two in some sort of trouble?”
“You could say that.” My tone of voice is lifeless, not wanting to admit that we have now brought our trouble into this man’s life.
“Don’t worry. I’ll kick it up a notch.” He presses on the gas, causing Brooklyn and me to be thrown back by the force.
After several long seconds of driving faster, I ask, “How’s it looking?”
I see his eyes bounce back up to the mirror. “He’s right on our trail.” He jerks the wheel to the left, throwing us around the cabin of the truck. “He’s got a gun!”
“Fuck. He knows we’re in here.” I sit up and look behind us to see Knox aiming his gun at the truck. I see his windshield shatter, and I duck again, but Paul swerves back into the right-hand lane, causing the bullet to miss us.
“Do you have a gun?” I ask Paul.
“In the glove compartment,” he answers.
With Brooklyn’s head still in my lap, I open the glove compartment and look into to see a gun resting in its holster. I slide my hand in and pull it out, dropping the holster on the floor and turning the safety off.
Before I can turn around to take aim, Knox fires again, this time causing the back glass to break, but the bullet shoots through the cab and into the dash. If Brooklyn was sitting up, it would have gotten her right in the back.
“Brook, get as low as you can to the floor,” I tell her while twisting back again.
She wiggles herself into a ball in the passenger side floorboard, and I get up on my knees in the seat. The back glass is shattered but still attached to the frame. The cracks make it impossible to see through. I use the butt of the gun to hit it with, over and over until slowly it starts falling into the bed of the truck.
With the back glass now gone, wind whips in through the cab with our fast speed, but I can clearly see Knox. I raise the gun, out the back window while using the headrest to block all but my eyes as I aim. It’s like slow motion as I squeeze the trigger. The gun practically explodes as the bullet goes flying from the barrel.
All the target practice I’ve done with John over the years pays off when the bullet hits the spot I was aiming for—the passenger side tire.
The tire explodes and the truck jerks to the right, sending him off the road and right into the guardrail. The impact of the hit causes the front of the truck to crush before it goes flipping over the rail and into the grass where it flips several more times and comes to a stop.
“Stop!” I yell, causing Paul to stomp on the brakes as he jerks the wheel, directing the truck to the side of the road.
When we’ve come to a complete stop, I throw open my door and jump out. “Stay here,” I tell them.
“Wait, Jake!” Brooklyn hops out behind me. “What if he’s okay? He has a gun…he will shoot you as soon as he sees you.”
I shake my head and hug her quickly. “No way he could have made it through that crash. I just want the peace of mind of knowing for sure that he is out of all of our lives.” I press a quick kiss to the top of her head and push her back into the truck. “Wait here,” I tell her again.
I slam the door shut and jog back several feet to the crash site. Several people who saw the crash are now pulled over on the side of the road, phones to their ears as they call 9-1-1.
I run past them and drop to my knees at the side of the car, bending down low to see through the busted window. Knox lies lifelessly on the hood of the uptur
ned car.
I tsk him. “Should’ve worn your seat belt.”
I can clearly see the blood staining the steering wheel and dash on the driver’s side of the car. After an impact like that, I don’t know how he wasn’t thrown out, but I know he has to be messed up with all the blood.
I grab hold of his ankle and pull him from the car and into the grass. Sure, I could be causing more damage by moving him, but do I really care? Nah, I’m willing to take the chance.
I roll him over to his back and look down on him. His face is so bloody that I don’t even recognize him. I place my hand on his wrist and feel for a pulse. It’s faint, but it’s there.
How in the hell could he survive something like that? I’m half tempted to pull out that gun and shoot him right here and now, but the audience gathering around the side of the road has me thinking otherwise. I don’t need to go to prison and miss out on the rest of my daughter’s life.
“Fuck,” I grumble under my breath.
Before I can make up my mind on whether or not I should leave him or shoot him, my ears are filled with the sounds of sirens.
The police and the EMTs arrive quickly. While they work on getting him on the stretcher, I talk with the police and tell him exactly who is. I’m not taking a chance on him not going back to prison…a maximum-security prison which is exactly where he’ll go since he’s escaped.
The police thank me for helping to identify him and bring him in, but I have to stop all questions. “Look, I’m more than willing to answer these questions at a later time, but my baby is being born right now. Can you please just follow me to the hospital where we can finish this?”
He nods. “I’ll do better than that. I’ll give you a police escort.” He shakes my hand.
“Thank you,” I tell him, shaking his hand and running back to the truck.
I open the door and jump inside. “We’re getting a police escort.”
“Is Knox…” Brooklyn starts.