Dead End Road

by Lori Whitwam

  Seth struggled to sort through all the information. He’d been right about Marshall saving his life. And Andy always acted as bartender, so it would’ve been easy for him to tamper with the liquor bottle. That left him with one major thing he couldn’t work out. “You wanted me to die the same way who died?”

  Abby jerked and started to say something, but Andy struck her across the cheekbone with the barrel of the gun. Seth started to move, but Andy quickly fastened his gaze on him. “Not one inch. I swear, man.”

  Seth had never been angrier or more terrified in his life. He didn’t know human emotion stretched this far. It appeared the blow to Abby’s face had been more to make a point than to inflict damage. There was a welt, but she wasn’t bleeding. It had, however, pissed her off, if the glitter in her eyes was any indication. Hold it together, Abby-Kat, he silently begged. We’ll get out of this. Somehow.

  She cleared her throat. When it didn’t bring about any further violence, she said, “The same way Stacy died, right Andy?”

  “Yes! The way Stacy died! Alone and full of drugs and booze.” He glared at Seth. “I wanted everybody to spend the next ten years debating whether you were a stupid drunk who liked to mess with drugs or a basket case who killed himself. Like they’re saying about her.”

  Something clicked in Seth’s mind. Andy. Drew. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t figured it out before, or at least as soon as he saw Andy in the clearing. “You’re Stacy’s brother. Andrew. But she called you Drew.” He’d condemn himself later for being so fucking slow, assuming he made it to later. Right now he had to figure out how to get Abby away from the gun.

  Andy sneered. “Yeah, genius. I about shit myself laughing yesterday when every cop in town was running around looking for Drew Purcell. That blonde bitch did me a huge favor. I thought she’d seen me, and maybe I was going to have to get her out of the picture, but she didn’t have it together enough to even get the story straight.”

  Seth’s eyes darted around the clearing, checking the vicinity for anything he could use as a weapon. Icy sweat ran down his spine. But as long as Andy was talking, he wasn’t shooting. “Like you got Kevin Merinar out of the way? What did he do?”

  “Stupid shit came out to the bus while I was putting a little surprise in your bag.” He laughed harshly. “I told him it was a stink bomb, a prank. Everybody knows guys on the road always pull stuff like that. But I knew once it blew, he’d go straight to the cops. I’d heard Kevin had been in some trouble for dealing, so when we went back in the club I told him I wanted to buy some weed. Dumbass followed me right into the basement. The mic stand was right there and did the job.”

  Seth didn’t see anything within his reach he could use to help Abby. He felt sick.

  “And you used his phone to send Seth a text,” Abby said. Seth couldn’t believe how steady her voice was for a woman with a gun pressing into her flesh.

  “Yeah, just for extra kicks. I ditched it on Sunday when I went to the Cities for supplies.”

  “Supplies?” Abby asked.

  “After my visit to your place on Saturday night, when that fucking mutt showed up and started barking, I needed a new plan. Picked up this cool toy,” he said, nodding at the gun, “and a treat for the mutt. Plus I bought the tracker I put on the car Monday morning when she stopped to get beer. I left the present for the dog earlier, but couldn’t get back out to finish things with the cops crawling around. I decided I might not be able to get close to your house again before you left town, so I wanted to be sure I had a way to find you. I knew if I kept my head down and hid out, I’d get a chance.” A macabre smirk twisted his face. “Then I made a stop at the library to send you a friendly e-mail.”

  He shifted his eyes from Seth and looked at the side of Abby’s face where he’d hit her. She stiffened, and Seth watched in horror as Andy lowered his face toward hers. He didn’t touch her, but he breathed in and his expression darkened. “It was nice of him to bring you here for me. I’ve been imagining your scream for days.” His nose grazed her hair and he inhaled again. “You smell like him. Guess I missed all the fun. Hope you had a good time, because it’s the last one you’re going to have.”

  Abby uttered a short, sharp laugh. “Oh, give me a fucking break. I can’t believe you just said that. Where’d you get that line? The Psycho Killer Manual?” She laughed again. Clearly, she’d had enough, and the writer in her hated cheap dialogue. Of all the times for her internal editor to take a break.

  “Um, darlin’, this might not be a good time to criticize.” He wanted nothing more than to dive across the intervening space and tear Andy’s shaggy, sandy head from his shoulders, but he and Abby both needed to stay alive in the process.

  “Oh, come on,” Abby said. “I might as well say what’s on my mind. But, Andy, here’s what I don’t get. Why would you think Seth needs to be punished for Stacy’s death? She’d been gone a year before she died.”

  “He threw her away, and she never got over him. She came home to Aunt Ana in Chicago, and she was a mess.” His voice shook, but the hand holding the gun never wavered. “I hadn’t seen her in years. After our parents died, Aunt Ana tried to take care of her like she took care of me, but Stacy was eighteen and wouldn’t let her. Next thing I knew, she was back in Atlanta and married to a drummer. Lasted about five minutes. But then his band broke up, and she left.”

  None of that clarified the issue for Seth. “I’m not buyin’ it, Andy. She forgot about me five minutes after our bus pulled out of town.”

  “You didn’t see her, man. She was wrecked. All she could talk about was you. Lived in a bottle till she was so messed up she took off with another band. And when they found her dead in the hotel in Vancouver, it was exactly a year since you threw her out. But you didn’t catch that, did you?”

  “I didn’t even know she was dead till Saturday.”

  “Exactly!” Andy’s eyes flashed dangerously. “You never fucking cared enough to even find out if she was okay! As soon as I heard she was dead, I knew it was all your fault. So I went to Austin. Stacy told me you liked to hang out at Stoney’s Tavern when you weren’t on the road. I met Danny there, and I heard you needed some new hands. I’m the one who convinced Danny we should try to get hired on. I knew sooner or later I’d figure out the best way to nail you.”

  Seth was stalling. He knew he was. He tried to remember everything he knew about guns, which took about three seconds. Despite living in Texas, he didn’t own one. He didn’t know what kind of gun Andy held or how many bullets it might contain. The only potentially useful information he could recall was that handguns didn’t tend to be accurate from any sort of distance.

  He had to get Abby away from the gun. For now, he had to keep him talking. “So you tried to poison me, and when it didn’t work, you got your hands on a pipe bomb.”

  “Yeah. When you were still alive Thursday morning, I called a connection of mine in Chicago. I met him and set it up, and he brought it to me Friday night.”

  “But you left too much to chance, didn’t you, Andy?” Abby was still pushing his buttons, and Seth wished she’d stop. “The bomb blew up my house instead. What about Trent and Marshall, though? Didn’t you care if your plan had worked, they would’ve been hurt too?”

  Andy shook his head and snorted. “Hell, no. I don’t care one way or another about Trent. And after Marsh babysat Seth all night and complicated everything, I wasn’t going to shed any tears over him.”

  With every word out of Andy’s mouth, Seth’s burning desire to abandon caution and go after him increased. But he had to hold it together, just for a few more minutes. He’d think of something by then. He had to. He’d managed to take several small steps in Abby’s direction during Andy’s delusional rants, inching his way every time she drew attention away from him. He knew what she was doing, but he didn’t like it. Anything could set this guy off, causing him to squeeze the trigger.

  Andy was looking at Abby again, and Seth cautiously edged one foot forward. The
killer’s eyes suddenly snapped back to him, and Seth froze. In that instant, Abby shifted her weight and tried to elbow Andy in the ribs. He jerked her back against him and gave her arm a cruel twist. Abby cried out, and Seth almost lost it. If he could be sure he’d be the only one to die, he’d rush Andy in a heartbeat. His legs ached with the tension of constantly forcing them not to move.

  Seeing Seth’s momentary indecision, Andy shouted, “I mean it, man. I’m telling you how it’s going to be, and you ain’t moving. You do, and I’ll blow her head off.”

  “If you were going to do it, you’d have done it by now,” Abby snarled. She was pushing too hard. Was she trying to rattle Andy enough for Seth to get a good run at him? The only problem was he couldn’t run faster than a bullet as it blasted from the gun to her head.

  She began struggling in Andy’s arms, and the gun moved away from her neck as he tried to restrain her.

  Seth made it two steps before Andy’s head whipped up. He swung the gun in Seth’s direction, and Abby screamed.

  Andy shot him.

  Chapter

  Twenty-Two

  Abby

  Abby froze, horrified, as Seth clutched his right side. Bright blood flowed between his fingers, quickly soaking his shirt. He was still on his feet, though, so maybe it wasn’t a life-threatening wound. Please don’t let it be serious, she silently pleaded.

  Andy pressed the gun to her neck again. It reeked of burnt gunpowder and was hot against her skin. He laughed, the sound ugly in this beautiful place. “Damn. Wish I’d had time to test fire this a few times. But no big deal. I like seeing you bleed.”

  Seth wiped his bloody hand on the leg of his jeans and straightened, placing the hand back over the wound. “Just do it, motherfucker, but let Abby go.”

  “You’re not running the show anymore, Caldwell,” Andy rasped. “It’s all over for you, but I decide when. Turns out I’m glad I had to do it this way. Dying in a drunken stupor was too good for you. The bomb would’ve been messier, but too quick. This way you know why, and you get to watch her go first.”

  Abby’s mind raced as she tried to think of a way out. Just one chance, that’s all they needed. If she could elbow Andy in the face or knock the gun out of his hand, they could run for the trees. If they got that far, they’d have a chance, however slim, of making it. But if she made the wrong move, he’d shoot her. Probably in the messiest, most painful way possible. And then he’d shoot Seth while he watched her bleed to death.

  Not an option.

  The entire right side of Seth’s shirt was now dark with blood. Even the top of his jeans was soaked. The pain had to be excruciating, but he never took his eyes from her. They were running out of questions to ask, which meant they were running out of time. A thought occurred to her. “What did you do with our dog?” He hadn’t appeared for the sandwiches, which was strange enough, but her scream and the gunshot should’ve brought him running.

  Andy looked at her as if he couldn’t believe she’d ask such a useless question. “He’s alive. For now. He must’ve heard my car and came running out of the woods. I opened the door, he jumped in, and I got out the other side and shut him in there. I’ll decide what to do with him later.”

  There was a burst of sound, and everybody’s eyes swung to its source. Abby’s purse, tied to the cooler. Her cell phone was ringing. “Make or Break.”

  She suddenly realized this was the distraction they needed. She heard underbrush rustling. The low-lying foliage erupted and Dilbert raced straight at her. Andy turned and pointed the gun at the dog. Abby shoved him with all her might. “Run!” she shouted.

  She and Seth sprinted toward the orchard. Abby’s heart pounded as they frantically tried to reach the trees and any safety they might provide. Objects on the ground tore at her bare feet, but she didn’t slow her pace. She caught up to Seth, and Dilbert ran alongside them. Andy shouted, pounding behind them in pursuit.

  Seth grabbed her arm and pushed her ahead of him. He was trying to stay between her and Andy. She would’ve yelled at him for it if she’d had any breath to spare. They crashed their way through the orchard, the glorious apple blossoms now appearing to be a cruel joke.

  The most dangerous part was just ahead. When they broke out of the orchard, they had to cross the open area that had once been the Bainbridges’ cornfield. They would have to jump the creek and run like hell for the trees on the other side. If they made it there, they had a decent chance of escaping. There were at least two houses located a short distance beyond. If someone was home to help them, or if they could get inside, lock themselves in, and call for help before Andy caught them, they might be safe.

  As they broke from the orchard, Dilbert cut in front of her and she nearly stumbled. She regained her momentum and kept running. A glance over her shoulder showed Seth was falling farther behind. How badly was he hurt? She kept looking back, despite the toll it took on her speed. Andy’s shirt caught on a branch for a second or two before ripping free. Seth widened the distance between them.

  The creek was only about six feet wide, but filled with slippery, treacherous rocks. She’d have to clear it in one leap. Approaching the bank, her lungs burning, she gathered all her remaining strength and jumped. A silent cheer rang in her head when she landed safely on the other side. The cheer hadn’t quite faded away ten yards later when she stepped in a hole and fell.

  Clutching her ankle, she saw Seth had almost reached the creek. Behind him, Andy raised the gun. Abby shrieked a warning. Not breaking stride, Seth hurdled the creek just as Andy fired. He rolled when he landed on the other side. When he got to his feet blood was streaming down his left arm.

  In seconds, Andy would also make it to the creek. If they weren’t running in the next few seconds, they were finished. She tried to rise, but her ankle gave way beneath her.

  Andy gathered himself for the jump, only to have Dilbert dart in front of him, barking madly. The hitch in his momentum caused Andy to fall short of the opposite bank. He crashed to the ground, his lower legs in the water.

  At the sound of the impact, Seth halted his attempt to reach her and turned. Seeing Andy on the ground, he reversed course and went straight for him. Abby couldn’t see the gun. Did Andy have it in his hand? Was it in the creek?

  Andy tried to struggle to his feet, and Abby screamed, “Seth! He still has the gun!”

  Seth reached him and kicked him viciously in the chest. Andy flew backward. The gun arched through the air and landed in the rocks, out of reach.

  Dilbert reached Abby, and stood between her and the fight, growling like a rabid wolf. Andy rolled to his hands and knees. Seth looked about wildly, reaching for a large rock in the creek bank. When it didn’t come free, he quickly abandoned it and lunged for another weapon. He grabbed one of the fallen posts from the split rail fence running along the creek and swung it at Andy. The blood coursing down his arm flew from his fingertips with the impact, and Andy went down. He started to make another attempt to get to his feet, but Seth swung again and nailed him on the side of the head. This time he lay still, but Seth stood over him with the post.

  For a moment she thought Seth would continue to bludgeon Andy until his head was reduced to paste, but he somehow restrained what must have been a powerful urge. Andy was still breathing, and that was something for which he should be extremely grateful. When he woke up.

  Shouts carried across the field from the orchard, and Joey and Marshall ran out of the trees. As their friends raced toward them, Abby climbed painfully to her feet and limped to Seth. When she reached him, he lowered the post to the ground and pulled her to him. She worried the fierce embrace was hurting him, but he didn’t let her go.

  “Your ankle. Your feet. Are you okay?” He touched the welt on her face.

  “Forget me. I’m fine. You’re the one who’s been shot. Twice.” She pulled frantically at his shirt, trying to see the extent of his injuries.

  He grabbed her hands and stopped her exploration. “It’s okay. If
it was bad, I’d never have made it this far.” He winced. “I think he cracked a rib, though.”

  “What about your arm?”

  Seth peeled up the bloody sleeve and grimaced. “The bastard shot my tattoo. It’s totaled.”

  The absurdity of the situation struck her, and Abby laughed. “It’s a horse skeleton with flaming wings. Believe me, a scar is only going to improve it.”

  “It’s a post-apocalyptic Pegasus. It’s cool. Or it was.”

  Abby sagged against him, not caring about the blood staining her skin and clothes. Dilbert pranced around them, shooting furtive glances at Andy’s prone body. “Pam was right after all. It was Stacy’s brother, Drew. She just wasn’t specific enough.” You couldn’t trust mentally unbalanced groupies to get the details right. Go figure.

  Seth swiped his sweat-soaked hair behind his ears and bent to kiss her. The kiss was salty, but whether it was the sweat or the tears pouring down her face Abby couldn’t be sure.

  Marshall and Joey scrambled across the creek. Marsh picked up the fencepost and approached Andy.

  “If the fucker so much as twitches, take his head off,” Seth said.

  “Count on it,” Marshall growled, tightening his grip on the post. “Excellent work, by the way. It’s not a bar stool, but at least you didn’t use your fist. You wouldn’t be able to hold a pick for a month if you had.”

  “The police are coming,” Joey said, dragging Seth into a hug, despite the blood. “We called them as soon as we knew where we were headed.”

  “Be careful,” Abby said. “He might have a cracked rib.”

  “We tried to call you too, when we got here and saw Dilbert inside a strange car.”