Hell and Back

by Patricia Blackmoor

  “I honestly don’t care.”

  Her knuckles had turned white, she was clutching the bag so hard. The poor girl was covered in dirt, face streaked with tears. I wanted to reach out and give her a hug, and at the same time protect her. Her body shook as she looked at Mitchell, eyes wide and glistening with tears.

  Mitchell’s hand was steady as he aimed the gun at her. When had he become so cold and calculating? Or had he always been this way, and I hadn’t realized it? I was furious at him, but I was even more disgusted at myself for spending so much of my life with him. How had I fallen for him?

  “You don’t understand,” Hope said.

  “I understand enough.”

  “You don’t. You really don’t,” she begged.

  Mitchell shook the gun at her. “I don’t care about whatever your sob story is. That money isn’t going to be used by anyone other than me.”

  “My brothers and I are starving,” Hope said, ignoring his words. “We’ve had hardly anything to eat besides ramen and peanut butter sandwiches.”

  “Sounds like my college years.”

  “My brothers are ten and twelve. They can’t survive off of that. They need more nutrition. And we’re on the brink of being evicted. We can’t pay our bills. We have nothing, absolutely nothing, and my brother left me this money, and I need it.”

  “Your brother?” Mitchell asked. “I think you’re confused, little girl. This money is mine. I earned it. Or rather, I stole it. And then my bitch of an ex-girlfriend hid it from me.”

  “Seems like she made a smart choice,” Hope said, swallowing.

  “Thank you,” I said.

  “But since you refused to give me the money, and since you know that I’m a bank robber, I’m going to have to kill you.”

  The color drained from Hope’s face. “No, please. My brothers have lost our parents, they’ve lost my brother. They can’t lose me too. There will be no one left to look after them.”

  “Well, you should have thought about that first.”

  “I won’t tell anyone. I swear to God, I won’t tell anyone,” Hope said. She held up one hand in surrender, but the other still clutched the bag of money to her chest.

  “I can’t take that risk,” Mitchell said with a shrug. “Sorry. Any last words?”

  “Motherfucker,” I hissed.

  “All right,” he said with a shrug.

  Everything next happened in slow motion, like I was watching it frame by frame. Mitchell’s finger moved to the trigger and began to pull. Parker burst from my side, reaching out and kicking Mitchell’s hand. The gun fired but missed Hope, the bullet firing wide as she jumped back at the loud bang, and Parker’s kick knocked the gun from Mitchell’s hands, sending it scattering across the ground, landing just shy of my feet.

  Mitchell looked down at his hand, mouth agape.

  “What the hell?” he roared. “Who’s there?”

  He spun around, eyes dancing wildly across the landscape as he tried to find out who had knocked the gun away from his hand. He stomped around, away from Hope, who had shied away from him.

  “Who’s there?” he roared, shouting into the trees. “Show yourself!”

  Parker and I met eyes, glancing at each other. Mitchell’s anger and tantrum would have been amusing if it wasn’t putting Hope’s life in danger. I had never seen this side of him before. It was both pathetic and terrifying.

  The gun was inches from my feet, and concerned that he’d go after it, I kicked it away again, further toward the stream, underneath a bush where it wasn’t so easy to see. Now Mitchell couldn’t use it to threaten anybody.

  During Mitchell’s outburst, Hope had begun inching her way up the hill, trying to get away from her attacker. After Mitchell had finished surveying the woods, he turned back to Hope. She didn’t have the money in her hands anymore; during his tantrum she had slipped it in her bag and pulled out something else.

  This time, it was Hope’s turn to cock a gun. It was tiny and fit neatly in her palm, and like Mitchell, her hands didn’t shake when she leveled it at him.

  “Let me go,” she said.

  I turned to Parker. “Where did she get a gun?”

  He shrugged. “Good thing she has it, though.”

  “Hey, now,” Mitchell said, hands up as he took several steps toward Hope.

  “Don’t come any closer,” she said, the gun still level. “I will shoot you.”

  “There’s no need for this.”

  “I think there is. Just let me go.”

  Mitchell’s arms were still up. “All right, all right.”

  Hope had turned to leave when Mitchell launched himself at her, pulling her over and shoving her down the hill. Hope tumbled, rolling down the embankment toward the water. Hope cried out as she fell, Mitchell stomping down toward her. She no longer had the gun in her hands, but she gripped her bag tightly, even as she fell. Her bag held the money, and she was never going to let it go.

  She had landed at the edge of the water, feet in the stream, flat on her back. She groaned as she tried to roll over, and I was concerned that she might have broken something, just like my foot was. She was slow to try to get up.

  Mitchell took advantage of her struggle to encroach. He had no gun, but had his fists up, ready to strike. Parker had no intention of letting that happen.

  Parker threw himself at Mitchell, knocking him to the ground. I couldn’t imagine the amount of emotion that must have been surging through his body to be able to do that, but the force was enough to land Mitchell flat on his back.

  “What the—”

  Mitchell’s words were cut off as Parker reared back and punched him, then punched him again. And again.

  Not all of his punches were landing, but the ones that were had done some damage. Mitchell began to bleed from his nose and mouth, putting his hands up to fight off his invisible attacker. Parker didn’t let up. All the anger he had been holding in was being let out on Mitchell’s face, and I had to admit that I enjoyed watching it. It was like seeing my current boyfriend beat up my ex-boyfriend, and had we not been in danger, I could have sat with a folding chair and a bucket of popcorn and watched it all night.

  I couldn’t let Parker have all the fun. He was doing some damage to Mitchell, but I had my own rage I needed to work out. While Parker continued to pummel Mitchell’s face, I wanted to take a different approach. I circled Mitchell where he lay, coming to a stop by his legs. With a smirk on my face and glimmer in my eyes, I reared back and kicked Mitchell hard between the legs. He probably wouldn’t be able to procreate. That was for the best.

  “Fuck,” he screamed. “What the hell is going on?”

  Hope didn’t have an answer for him. She had climbed to her feet and was standing at the edge of the stream, her bag still clutched in her hands, staring at the sight before her. I could only imagine what she was seeing: Mitchell flat on his back, blood pouring from his face, screaming at nothing. It was probably a little funny but really terrifying for her, which explained her wide eyes and pale face. I wanted to comfort her, but there was only so much I could do. She couldn’t see me.

  So I thought.

  “Parker?” she asked with a gasp.

  Parker paused, his fists bloody as they hung over Mitchell’s face. “Hope?”

  Hope gasped, her hands to her mouth, and she ran toward him. “Parker, oh my God, Parker, where have you been? We’ve been looking everywhere for you. What’s going on?”

  Parker’s jaw had dropped open, moving his mouth as he tried to come up with words. I was amazed that she could see him, and clearly, he was too. He climbed off of Mitchell and wrapped Hope in his arms, squeezing her tightly. After a shocked moment she hugged him back. “Parker, where have you been?”

  “It’s a long story,” he said before turning to face me. “What on earth do I tell her?”

  Hope rotated in Parker’s hug to face my direction. “Who are you?”

  She could see me too. What the hell was going on?


  “Um, hi,” I said, giving her a small wave. “I’m Meg.”

  “Meg?”

  I froze. I had heard that voice say my name so many times. I had enjoyed it before. Now it only made me sick.

  I turned to face him, my arms crossed. “Mitchell.”

  “No,” he said, his face white as he scooted backward across the dirt. “You’re dead.”

  “Thanks to you.”

  Mitchell scrambled to his feet, holding his arms out to keep me at a distance. “No, no, you don’t understand.”

  I stormed toward him, throwing my hands up in the air. “What don’t I understand, Mitchell? That you were cheating on me with my best friend? That you constantly lied to me? That you used me as your getaway driver? That you murdered me?”

  “Holy shit,” Hope muttered.

  “It’s not what you think.”

  “Oh, it’s exactly what she thinks,” Parker said, disentangling himself from his sister.

  “Who the hell are you?” Mitchell asked.

  “I’m the guy who just beat your ass.”

  “And apparently, he’s the only guy I can actually trust,” I said.

  “You can trust me, Meg,” Mitchell said.

  “Oh, quit your bullshit!” I said. “You got away with manipulating me when I was alive, but not anymore. I know the truth now. I heard everything you and Courtney said. She told me everything, remember? Our little seance?”

  “Stupid bitch,” Mitchell muttered.

  Parker punched him. I stood by, smiling.

  “You fucking keep out of this,” Mitchell said.

  “I’m not going to let you insult her.”

  “What are you, her knight in shining armor, holding up her virtue? News flash, she lost that a long time ago.”

  “She doesn’t need a knight in shining armor. She just really likes watching me beat the shit out of you.” Parker looked over at me for a confirmation.

  I nodded. “He’s right.”

  “Fuck you.”

  “Oh, fuck you, Mitchell.”

  I rolled my eyes, turning back to Parker and Hope. “Come on. Let’s get out of here. Let’s get Hope home.”

  I heard the shot before I felt it, the gun cracking through the night air. The pain was sharp in my shoulder as blood quickly soaked through my shirt. I turned to face Mitchell. He had Hope’s gun in his hand, and it was still pointed at me.

  “How many times do I have to shoot you before you die?” he asked, blood still dripping from his nose.

  “I’m already dead, dumbass!”

  “Then how can I see you?”

  “It’s a really, really long story that we don’t have time for,” I said. “But you can’t kill me.”

  “Maybe not,” he said, “but I can kill her.”

  Mitchell leveled the gun at Hope, and she shrank back behind her brother.

  “Don’t you dare,” Parker said. “You’ve already shot one woman I love. You don’t want to see how I react when you shoot another one.”

  “You love her?” Mitchell scoffed. “How well do you even know her?”

  Parker looked over at me with a soft smile. “We’ve been through hell and back,” he said.

  Mitchell fired the gun again, up into the air, not hitting any of us. “I don’t give a shit about your little romance,” he said. “Just give me the goddamn money.”

  I shook my head. “You aren’t getting a cent, Mitchell. That money is going to help Hope and her family so they can survive.”

  Mitchell aimed the gun at Hope. “Say that again.”

  I pulled Parker to me. “You guys go. I’ll hold him off.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Go. I got this.” I turned back to Mitchell, my hands up. “Let’s talk about this.”

  “There’s nothing to talk about. Give me the money.”

  “What if we split it?”

  “Absolutely not,” he said as I drew closer. “I did all the work, I want it all.”

  “I get it, I get it,” I said. “But this makes everyone happy.”

  “It doesn’t make me happy.”

  I took a few more steps toward him. “You know what? I don’t care.” With an angry thrust of my leg, I kicked him in the crotch again. Now he definitely wasn’t procreating.

  “Run,” I told Parker and Hope as Mitchell doubled over. They had made a move to climb back up the hill when we heard a rustling in the trees.

  “Mitchell?”

  We all turned to see Courtney standing there, sleep and confusion still on her face. “What’s going on?”

  “Courtney, go back inside,” Mitchell ordered.

  “I heard gunshots, what’s going on?” she stepped further down the hill. Her jaw dropped open. “Meg? But...you’re dead.”

  Mitchell rolled his eyes. “You missed that part of the conversation,” he said.

  “What’s going on?”

  “Courtney, go back inside?”

  She took more steps down. “Who are these other people? Mitchell, what’s going on?”

  “Courtney, please, go back to the house,” I told her.

  “I’m not listening to you,” she said, walking the rest of the way down the hill toward us. “You stole money from us.”

  “You murdered me!”

  She paused. “That’s fair.”

  “Courtney, shut up!” Mitchell demanded.

  “Stop bossing me around!” she said. “God, you always do this! I can talk if I want to!”

  Mitchell rolled his eyes, raised his arm, and shot her.

  Chapter Twenty–Six

  My heart dropped in my stomach as I raced across the forest floor. For a brief moment, I had forgotten what Courtney had done to me, how she was a traitor, how she’d had an affair with my longtime boyfriend. In this instant, she was just my friend, my friend who had been shot by a madman and was sprawled across the dirt, bleeding, a look of shock across her face.

  I knelt down beside her, my hands fluttering over her body, unsure of what to do. I wasn’t a doctor; I had no idea how to help her. I was helpless as I watched the blood seep into her T-shirt.

  Courtney’s hands reached to cover her stomach, blood spilling from between her fingers. Her face was white as crimson blood dripped from the corner of her mouth. She coughed, choking on it as it filled her throat, bubbling past her lips.

  “Let me, let me look,” I said, moving to lift the hem of her shirt, but she slapped my hand away, smearing blood across my skin, shaking her head. I leaned back, my eyes full of worry. Hers had narrowed as she looked at me.

  “Courtney, let me look, maybe I can help you,” I said.

  “Don’t touch me,” she spat.

  “Courtney, please.”

  “I don’t want your help.”

  I swallowed. “Courtney, if you don’t let me help, you’ll die. And trust me, you don’t want to do that.”

  She refused to meet my eyes. Panic rose in my chest as I watched her dying slowly in front of me. If she succumbed to her gunshot wound, she’d be sent to hell, just like I had been. That was an afterlife I wouldn’t wish on anyone, no matter how they had wronged me.

  “You’ve got to let me help,” I whispered.

  I reached over again but she shoved me away. “Don’t touch me.”

  “Courtney—”

  “Why did you come back?” she asked, her voice faint. “Why are you here?”

  “I had things I needed to take care of,” I said, swallowing.

  “You shouldn’t have. You should have left us alone. Life was good without you here.”

  “Life was good?” I asked her. “Is that why you were getting drunk on a weekday afternoon? Is that why you had a seance and used a ouija board to talk to me?”

  “That was a mistake,” she choked out, wincing as she held her stomach. She cried out in pain.

  Anger surged through me as I stood up, pushing myself up from the blood-soaked ground, and whirled to face Mitchell.

  “What the hell is wrong with
you?” I asked him.

  “She deserved it.”

  “No one deserves to be shot in cold blood, you asshole!” I yelled at him. “Except, maybe, you.”

  “And why do I deserve it and she doesn’t?”

  “Because she trusted you,” I hissed, “just like I trusted you. You told her you loved her, right? You’d take care of her? That together the two of you would move to California and have the perfect life?”

  “Asshole,” Courtney muttered from behind me.

  Mitchell still held the gun, but I didn’t care. I shoved him, ready to hit him, wanting to hit him. “You destroyed me,” I said, anger seething in my voice. “And now you’re destroying Courtney too. You had absolutely no reason to shoot her!”

  “Why do you care so much?”

  “Because you can’t just go around and shoot people, you dick!”

  He twirled the gun around his finger. “I think this shows that I can.”

  “You have no idea,” I said, my voice trembling. “No idea what’s waiting for you.”

  “I think I’ll deal.”

  I shook my head at his ignorance. “You ruined my life. You forced me to rob banks with you.”

  “I didn’t force you to do anything,” he said with a smirk. “You went along with it.”

  “Only because you lied to me! You manipulated me! Do you really think I would have done any of that stuff, gone along with you, acted as your getaway driver, if you hadn’t promised me a good, stable life? If I hadn’t loved and trusted you?”

  He shrugged. “Not my fault you believed me. I mean, really, how could you not tell it was all bullshit?”

  “I thought you loved me,” I spat at him. “I really did. I thought we were going to get married, have a family. You were my entire world, my entire future. And then you went and slept with my best friend!”

  “Not like she didn’t have plenty of say in that.”

  “And if she weren’t on her deathbed, I’d have words with her about that. But since you shot her, I only get to yell at you.”

  “She wasn’t the only one, you know. There were a few. Quite a collection.”

  “How long?”

  He shrugged. “Two years?”

  “We dated for two years.”

  He shrugged again.