by Rachel Brady
“You and I are going for a walk, Emily,” Trish said. “Kurt will baby-sit.”
Annette began to cry and pressed into my leg until I nearly stumbled. Soon her sobs grew so hard her whole body shook.
“I’m not going anywhere without her!”
I held her to my side. Casey began to cry.
Trish smirked. “I was very clear about what would happen if you told other people. Remember?” She walked from the porch onto the first step. “We’re going for a walk—right now—or I’ll have you shot. Here, in front of your daughter.”
Kurt produced his gun and Annette, staring at me in apparent confusion, wailed.
Trish continued. “Do you want her to see that, Emily? Want her to feel your blood spatter?” She paused. “Imagine the nightmares.”
“Shut up!”
Annette jerked suddenly and released my leg. She buried her face in her hands. Her shoulders shook but there was no sound.
“Oh God,” I dropped to the ground. “I didn’t mean you, baby.”
I used one knee to support Casey, and the other sank into the cold ground. I rubbed Annette’s back. She moved her head to my shoulder, and light reflected off her tear-streaked cheeks. She sniffled and wiped her face on my shirt.
I turned my mouth toward her ear. “I love you, sweetheart. Since before you were even born.”
Casey was crying so loudly I wondered if she’d heard me. I shifted him and leaned toward her again, wrapping an arm tightly around her wispy frame.
I heard Trish’s boots descend the steps.
“Touching,” she said, “but enough’s enough.”
She walked to us, put a hand on Annette’s shoulder, and pulled.
“Leave me alone!” Annette swatted her. “Go away!”
Kurt stepped forward to help. Annette kicked him and he swore at her.
I held onto my child with everything I had, but they pulled until I lost one small part of her at a time. Finally, I only had a grip on her tiny arm. When she cried out, I worried it was because of how hard I was squeezing.
Kurt suddenly shoved her away and tried to wrestle Casey from me instead.
Trish wrapped her arms around Annette’s body and tried to lift her. I didn’t let go.
“Don’t let her take me!” Annette yelled.
I reached with my other hand to hold her back, and instantly Casey was gone.
Both children were crying, screaming with every breath, terrified. Then Trish wrenched Annette’s arm from me. I lunged after her, and something struck the back of my head.
Chapter Thirty-eight
I woke up on the cold ground with sharp pine needles poking into my neck and cheek. I closed a weak fist over loose earth and blinked. It was hard to focus. I was still in the driveway beside the cars, and my neck hurt too badly to raise my head.
The sallow glow of the porch light outlined silhouettes huddled on the porch. I blinked again and counted. There were three people now, and no sign of the kids.
Dew had soaked my blouse and pants. I started to shiver and wondered how long I’d been out. Long enough for Trish and Kurt, and whoever was with them, to feel comfortable walking away from me. Not long enough for the sky to completely darken. The woods were wrapped in heavier shadows, but I could still make out the trees. I blinked over and over. There was dirt in my eyes.
It was hard to see, but that had less to do with the grit in my eyes than it did with the blow to my head. When I moved it too quickly, objects blurred.
I focused on Trish’s silhouette. She’d gathered her hair into a ponytail. I couldn’t understand what she was saying, but she gestured wildly and the ponytail bounced when she spoke.
Kurt must have pulverized my neck when he’d hit me. It hurt to move, and I felt dizzy when I tried. I brought a hand to the back of my head and rubbed. My neck was swollen and a knot had already formed. I checked my fingers. No blood.
The Volvo was a couple yards away. I thought about scrambling behind its wheel, but expected I’d be shot before I reached the door.
A more subtle strategy might be to slide under the car, into blackness. Woods were on the other side. Maybe I’d have a chance if I could get that far.
But, even if I disappeared among the pines, what about Annette? If escaping meant losing her, I didn’t want to live.
I knew I couldn’t get her out alone. Going for help was probably our only chance, but I had no real idea where to go, or how long it might take. Would there be time? I was on foot; they had vehicles—not comforting odds.
I rolled onto my back and took a deep breath to help control the pain. I had to extend my neck to monitor the activity on the porch. It was agony.
I inhaled and braced for another roll. Slowly, I made my way onto my stomach again. I’d closed half the distance to the car and hadn’t been detected. Adrenaline was kicking in.
Another roll, and I was staring at the undercarriage, which had less clearance than I’d hoped. I stole my last glance at the porch and maneuvered onto my belly for the last time, figuring it would be easier to scoot under the car that way. I wedged into the warm space underneath the car. It smelled like oil.
Something hissed at me and I froze.
It was a damn cat. If it belonged to Trish, it was probably as evil and pissed off as she was. I turned my head toward the porch again and let it rest on the ground while I caught my breath. Someone new was talking, a man. I inched further under the car, and the cat hissed again.
When I was completely underneath the car, I squinted in the direction of the cat, but it had slunk away. I breathed deeply and tried to do the same.
I squirmed further beneath the car and made my way out the other side. The terrain leading into the woods sloped downward. I hoped the little ridge would hide me. Crouching, I started down the slight hill. I wanted to hurry, but if I stepped too quickly, snapping twigs and crunching pine cones would give me away.
“She’s gone!” It was Kurt.
I broke into a run and angled myself toward the main road. Behind me, someone yelled to bring flashlights. “Over there!”
A gun fired. I ducked behind a thick tree and huddled near the ground, panting.
“Hold it, Emily,” Trish called into the woods. I heard the wooden storm door smack closed.
“Can you see me?” she shouted. “See who I have?”
I peered around the base of the tree. Trish stood behind Annette on the porch. It looked like she had a hand on my little girl’s shoulder. I thought she had a gun in the other. Annette stood mechanically, as if she’d been posed. Her fight was gone, and I became enraged all over again. Trish had broken her.
Trish yelled, “That was a warning shot. The next one won’t be. Bullets are cheap.”
I sniffled and wiped away tears I hadn’t noticed before. These people thought nothing of killing. I thought about Jack’s funeral, and remembered his mom kissing the closed casket before the pallbearers carried it to the hearse.
“Send her back inside!” I called. “I’ll come out.”
Two strong flashlight beams converged in my vicinity and swept the darkness. I pressed into the bark of my tree and stayed low. The porch door slammed again, and I wondered if Annette had really been taken back inside.
Trish screamed toward the forest. “I want my money, God damn you!” She stomped the porch. “Come out!”
I recognized a man’s voice calling from the direction of one of the flashlights: “Come on out to the drive now, sweetheart. I know you think she’s naughty, but actually…” he swung the beam through the trees around me, “this is very reasonable for her.” It was Scud.
A thick band of light passed over my tree and snapped back. He held it there.
“Olly olly oxen free,” he said.
The illumination around me broadened when Kurt added his beam.
“Come over here, toward the drive.”
Standing made me dizzy, and I used the tree for support. The base of my skull throbbed. I looked toward the cab
in to check for Annette. All I could see were the bright lights shining in my face.
“That was a quite a show at the drop zone last night,” Scud said. “I like feisty girls, but I gotta tell ya…you did a number on my shoulder. It hurts like a sonofabitch. So now, I’m afraid there’s a score to settle.”
He dropped his light to the ground in front of me. I stepped forward. Kurt kept his light in my face.
“Don’t worry,” Scud added. “Won’t hurt a bit. I’m a better shot than you.”
I raised a hand to shield my eyes. All I could see was mud and leaves up to a yard in front of me, then nothing.
“You’re walking too slow,” Kurt said. “Move faster, or your prissy little girl comes out and gets a messy anatomy lesson when she watches me shoot you.”
I stumbled forward, following Scud’s light on the ground. Soon I climbed the little slope toward the driveway and found myself between the van and the car again. I realized with a pang that I’d hardly gotten anywhere.
“Turn around and walk toward the road,” Trish said. It sounded like she was near Kurt.
I turned away from the cabin and flashlights and began walking. One set of footsteps receded behind me. I heard someone mounting the porch steps, and finally there was the familiar slap of the storm door.
Ahead, the flashlight beams stretched into the night to show me the way.
“Where are we going?”
No one answered. I listened to the footsteps following me, grinding the dirt a few paces back. Sometimes the steps sounded so close together I thought maybe only one person was there with me. But the beams weren’t moving in sync. I heard whispering, but no words.
“What will you do with them?” I said.
The only response was silence.
I stopped and turned. The flashlights stopped moving; they were about three yards away, very close together.
“What happens to the kids?” I was crying. “What happens to Annette?”
I could make out the faint outlines of figures holding the lights and gauged from her stature that one of them was Trish.
“What happens to Annette?” She mocked me. She even added a fake sniffle. “What happens to Annette?” Then her voice hardened. “Who the fuck cares? Turn around and walk.”
I fell to my knees. My sobs echoed in the stillness, reverberated in my ears, completely understating my terror and loss.
“There’s no time for this shit,” Scud said. He wasn’t talking to me. “Was that necessary? Look at her. She ain’t moving any faster, is she?”
“Why should I move?” I yelled, staring toward them.
Trish lowered her beam and for a moment I could see more clearly. She raised an arm in front of her, and my chest tightened. She was going to shoot me, there in the driveway.
Scud reached across and put his hand on her extended arm. He leaned close to her and whispered. She lowered it.
“Relax, sweetheart,” Scud said to me. “You’re right. We want money. We get it many ways. Kids…” he paused “Well, frankly, kids don’t fetch a good price dead. I won’t sugar coat this, ’cause I’m sure you see things for what they are. You won’t walk away from this. But Annette will, as long as you tell us where the locker is. Otherwise, she’ll die in front of you. You decide.”
When he finished, I expected something snide from Trish. Instead, there was only the faint rustle of swaying leaves. I inhaled sharply, and heard the sound of my breathing too. Tears dropped down my cheeks as resignation washed over me. I was helpless against Trish and Scud, but if I revealed the locker location, at least Annette wouldn’t be used as a bargaining token anymore. At least she would live.
“Still thinking?” Scud said. “Get up and walk toward the road.”
I don’t remember how far we walked before Trish spoke up behind me. “Where is it?”
I was ready to answer, but Scud answered first. “A few yards ahead still.”
“Yeah, but where?” Trish’s voice.
He cast the beam of his flashlight off the left side of the driveway and swung it back and forth until it found an old, abandoned tire.
“There.”
“Here’s your turn-off.” Trish shoved me in the back.
I stumbled, and walked into the woods where they showed me. I wondered how long Jeannie would stay in Texas before going home. At some point she’d have to accept I’d never be found. Trish had done me one favor, even though she hadn’t meant to. She’d spared Jeannie’s life by separating us.
I shuffled through the woods wherever they told me to go, stepping over fallen branches and ducking under low ones, until I was suddenly told to stop walking. My eyes stung and my cheeks were wet, but I wasn’t afraid to die. I was crying because there was so much I’d never explain to my little girl.
Trish and Scud walked ahead of me a few paces and then diverged to either side. I watched them swing their flashlight beams along the ground as if looking for something.
“Right here,” Scud said. Trish turned and joined him.
They directed their lights at the ground, into a giant oblong hole with a thick mound of dirt around its edges. My grave.
“Get in,” Scud said. “Make it easy on me, I’ll make it easy on you.”
Chapter Thirty-nine
Trish and Scud pointed their flashlights at the perimeter of the hole.
“Go on,” Scud said.
I knelt on the mound of damp earth surrounding the pit, as if to pray, and made the sign of the cross.
“Forget that,” Trish said from the blackness behind me. “You can chat in the afterlife.”
I scooped blocks of mud into my fists.
Behind me, twigs snapped and her flashlight beam jostled. I kept my head bowed and steadied myself.
Her foot pressed into my back. I slid sideways and hurled a loosely packed ball of mud toward her face. She looked away and shielded her eyes. I knocked the flashlight from her hand. It landed silently in the crude grave.
Before I could stand, she raised her gun. I flung the other handful of dirt at her and dived for her knees. She thudded onto the ground before she could get off a shot, but Scud fired a round and missed.
Trish yelled. “She’s right on top of me!”
A car hummed up the main road. I squinted through the trees and thought I saw the flicker of headlights and taillights.
I grabbed a thick shock of her hair and wrenched her head backward. She cried out and pried at my fingers. I used my other hand to rake fingernails over her face until I found her eyes, then I dug in. She screamed and let go of me, reaching instead for her face. I staggered to my feet and ran toward the road.
Twigs and brush scraped my legs and I lost a shoe in the sticky mud. I knew Scud was close behind me.
A car turned onto the dirt driveway ahead.
I ran toward its lights, but it continued past me.
“Wait! Help!”
The car was going to the cabin.
A shot fired; it was so loud it seemed the gun was right beside my head. Heavy footfalls tramped in the brush behind me. Scud was gaining speed. I tripped in a low spot and caught myself on a tree. The car kept its course.
“Stop!” I screamed again.
Another shot fired, and a sharp crack exploded from a tree in front of me. The car reversed. I dodged behind a tree and stayed low and still.
From the driveway, someone shouted my name.
It was Vince.
I couldn’t answer without giving myself away.
“Emily! Are you there?” he called again. “Are you okay? Emily?”
His voice was getting louder. He was coming into the woods to look for me.
“They’ve got guns!” I shouted.
I sprinted for him.
“This don’t concern you, Vince,” Scud yelled, and fired again.
As I neared the driveway, I made out the area surrounding Vince’s car, but didn’t see him. I zigzagged to stay behind trees and finally hid behind one large enough to cover me.
>
The car, still running, was in the driveway with its lights on. Vince had left the driver’s door open, and the interior was illuminated by the dome light. But I couldn’t spot Vince anywhere. Was he taking cover on the other side of the car?
In the distance, a helicopter approached and the aggressive chop of its rotors told me it was closing in fast. Within moments a spotlight swept the woods around us. Its aimless ray was off-target, but I hoped it was enough to scare Trish and Scud.
I caught sight of Scud’s flashlight beam; he was about twenty feet to my left and inching closer. I stayed low behind my tree.
A gunshot sounded, and Scud toppled to the ground, doubled over. Vince bolted from the shadows and ran to the driver’s side of the car.
“Emily!” he shouted. “Get in the car!”
I emerged from the woods about ten feet in front of the car. I was hurrying toward its passenger door when I spotted a figure on the drive. Trish was the same distance behind the car as I was in front of it, and her gun was trained on me. I was trapped in the headlights of the car.
“Drop it,” Vince said.
She swung the gun toward him, but his weapon was already raised. Trish wouldn’t hesitate to kill him. I worried the same might not be true for Vince.
“This isn’t about you,” she said to him. “Don’t make me do this.”
He didn’t move.
They stared at each other, weapons drawn, and I had the sensation more was being said silently between them than what I could imagine. Down the road, a shrill chirp sounded, followed by the beginning wails of several sirens.
In a fluid motion, Trish whirled and redirected her aim on me. Vince fired twice. She collapsed in a heap on the edge of the woods.
I started toward the car as he lowered the gun. He turned and reached for me with his other hand. I began to sob when his hand closed around mine.
“When I heard what you were planning,” he said, “I called Trish to try to reason with her. Heard the train in the background and figured she was hiding up here. Your text message to Jeannie confirmed my hunch. This was her dad’s hunting cabin.”