Dead of Summer

by Sherry Knowlton

  In the next moment, Alexa lost sight of both cars’ lights. It took her a minute to understand she’d entered a tunnel between two cornfields. The corn plants towered over the Land Rover, but Alexa knew the sense of protection from the tall stalks was illusory. In just minutes, she would be trapped between two vehicles full of security staff with guns. She had to lead them away from her mom.

  Alexa gathered her courage and took a hard right off the dirt lane. She plunged straight into the middle of the corn. Stalks whipped across the windshield as the sturdy Land Rover plowed across the field. Mature ears of corn slapped against the car like giant waves. The SUV rocked like a boat as it crested each row of plants and sank into the troughs between. Alexa clung to the wheel as she slid back and forth across the seat.

  She’d gotten off the road, but a swath of broken and bent stalks marked her wild ride into the cornfield. Alexa knew she had to leave the Land Rover behind, although the thought of continuing on foot terrified her. Without the SUV she’d be totally vulnerable. She brought the Land Rover to a stop in the middle of the field, took the keys, and slipped out of the vehicle. Alexa eased the door shut and set off toward the fence bordering Pine Road.

  Walking through the cornfield proved to be much harder than Alexa expected. When she and Graham were kids, they’d loved to run down the long passageways between the tall cornstalks on Nana’s farm. The rows that had accommodated a child felt much narrower now that she was an adult. As she raced through the field, unyielding stalks and indifferent ears of corn pummeled her shoulders. A rich verdant smell filled her nostrils, and her eyes watered from the pollen. Her feet stumbled over the uneven field.

  No more than five minutes passed until shouts erupted near the place where she’d driven off the road. She tried to ignore the commotion and pushed on.

  Through her exhaustion, it hit Alexa. Surely, the pursuers would expect her to make a run for the fence and cut her off. Wiping sweat from her forehead, she turned left and away from certain detection.

  She needed to get farther away from those guys on the lane. She could chance a run for the fence later.

  Her new course meant Alexa had to cross through the tightly planted rows of corn. Razor-sharp leaves sliced her bare arms, raising bloody stripes. She spit out wisps of corn silk that clung to her mouth. Most worrisome, as Alexa thrashed through the corn, the tasseled stalks rippled like flags marking her progress across the field. If the security guys had a spotlight aimed in the right direction, they might be able to see the plants stirring.

  As if they’d read Alexa’s mind, she caught a flicker of lights in the sky to her left. She tensed but determined that the lights were aimed closer to the spot where she’d abandoned the Land Rover. Alexa pressed on, trying to slide through the stalks as stealthily as possible.

  She hadn’t progressed far when a row of floodlights blazed to her right, followed by the deep, clack-clack-clack-clack roar of a powerful diesel engine. Gasping in dismay, Alexa spun toward the lights and noise. She freaked out.

  A phalanx of twirling spiral disks, each two feet across, tore into the corn at the far end of the row. Frenzied cornstalks and chaff flew ten feet into the air as the deadly metal blades chewed up the field. A maelstrom of chopped silage gushed behind the yellow monster, turning the air thick with dust. In the blinding light, Alexa could see the outline of the farm machine towering high above the tops of the corn. A combine. If the machine caught her in its silver-toothed maw, it would mean certain and horrible death.

  Terrified, Alexa turned yet again and fled the huge combine. Coughing, she held a hand over her nose to filter the dust. Behind her, the machine advanced in an unrelenting din of grinding gears and disintegrating corn. Since she’d done a U-turn, Alexa’s path took her between the rows, making her headlong flight easier.

  As she approached the dirt lane, the searchlights of men on foot moved toward the wheat fields. Distance had muted the roar of the combine. She stopped at the edge of the lane, hugging the shadow of the cornfield. Seeing no activity, Alexa dashed across the dirt lane and disappeared into another cornfield. She sprinted through the new field, each step taking her farther away from the fence—and farther away from help for her mother.

  Chapter Forty-one

  ALEXA’S LEGS FELT LIKE used rubber bands by the time she hit the end of the cornfields. The corn stalks trailed off into uncultivated fields, covered in weeds and bushes. Ahead, she could see the edge of the forest.

  Alexa slogged uphill until she reached the tree line. Sobbing in exhaustion, she leaned against a large trunk; sweat poured off her entire body. Any adrenaline boost had long worn off, and she felt shaky and a little nauseous. Clinging to the tree trunk, she could look down over the fields below. The combine had decimated the cornfield, and she could make out the Land Rover in its blazing headlights. Two other vehicles patrolled the dirt lane with spotlights.

  Her heart leapt to her throat when another SUV approached from the direction of the house. Its spotlight passed right over the bales of straw where her mother hid, but it kept on driving—headed toward the action. Apparently, they still thought Alexa and her mother were trapped somewhere in the corn.

  Alexa took another minute to catch her breath and evaluate her options. Her access to the lower fence was cut off. No way would she get by that crew down there.

  Maybe she could flag down a car leaving the party. Get help. Get a phone to call 911. Drawing a breath, Alexa pushed through her physical discomfort and headed back toward the lion’s den.

  As she slipped along the edge of the forest, just inside the tree line, Alexa watched the strobe effect of one car after another traveling down the winding lane away from the house: brief flashes of light angling through gaps in the faux cypress marked each car’s progress. By the time she approached the grounds, the flicker of lights had slowed to a trickle.

  Alexa had climbed higher on the mountain than she’d realized. She emerged from the woods near the topiary garden above the house. Breathing hard, Alexa sat down with her back against a boulder to check out the situation. From that point, she could see most of the parking area. Although all the lights in the villa were blazing, two security SUVs were the only cars left in the lot. Alexa’s heart sank. All the party guests had gone home.

  For a minute, exhaustion and fear got the better of Alexa. She cradled her head in her hands, slipping into despair. What was she going to do? Then, she thought about her mom, bleeding and in pain, lying in that makeshift hiding place.

  “Pull yourself together, Alexa. You’ve got to get help.”

  A westerly breeze chilled Alexa in her clammy clothes. It was time to move. She used the boulder for leverage and forced her body to a standing position.

  A screech of metal from down below froze Alexa in place. She crept behind the boulder for cover. Peering around the big rock, she watched a security guard and dog emerge from a door in the side of the villa.

  How many guards did this place employ? Way too many for a basic foster care operation.

  The guard headed around the corner, away from Alexa. When he reached the french doors leading into the conservatory, the Doberman Pinscher went nuts. The dog pulled toward the topiaries, barking furiously.

  Had the dog smelled her? At this point, Alexa’s body odor was a pungent mix of Coco Mademoiselle parfum, corn juice, sweat, and fear. Shivering, she tried to merge with the rock to avoid detection.

  Chuckling, the guard dropped the dog’s leash, and the Doberman bounded toward the bear topiary. For an instant, Alexa imagined that the bear hopped forward to confront the dog. The illusion evaporated when she heard the screams. The movement was a young boy and a young girl emerging from beneath the topiary bear. Alexa could hear them yelling.

  “Stop!”

  “Help!”

  “Call off the dog. Please!”

  The guard waited until the dog stormed to a point no more than a yard away from the kids before he commanded, “Darth, sit. Stay.”

  Al
exa breathed a sigh of relief to see the dog instantly comply.

  The man in uniform strode toward the two kids. “What are you two doing outside your dorms?”

  As the kids broke into a fearful babble of explanation and pleading, Alexa took advantage of the distraction and made her move. She had reached a conclusion.

  The only way out was up. They hadn’t expected her to loop back toward the house, but this villa area was clearly guarded. It was too risky to try for a phone in the house. The others still seemed to be searching for her in the valley. So her best option for escape was to walk to the top of the mountain and follow Ridge Road until she found help.

  Alexa stole through the woods, trying to remain quiet as she plodded upwards. Progress was slow. The woods were pitch black. Even though her eyes had made an adjustment, she kept stumbling over branches and deadfall. Her fashionable Mary Janes had not been made for extreme hiking; her feet were killing her. Alexa’s legs ached as she fought collapse. But thoughts of her mother kept her moving.

  Pausing to listen for pursuit, Alexa heard nothing. She took in a deep breath, filling her lungs with the familiar and comforting smells of the forest. She could barely make out the lights of the house below through the trees. The tour from earlier in the evening came to mind, and she remembered the old logging road. She could travel much faster if she could circle over to that lane above the dormitories.

  Making her way in that direction, Alexa sensed, more than saw, a gap in the trees. Cautious on the open logging road, she stopped and crouched to the ground, listening. The sound of the altercation below had faded. The woods were silent and still.

  Alexa nearly toppled from her crouch when an owl hooted nearby. Waiting until her heartbeat returned to a semblance of normal, she stood and eased her car keys from her pants pocket. By feel, she detached a mini-LED flashlight from the chain. She decided to chance it.

  Shielding the beam so that only a pinpoint reached the ground in front of her, Alexa sped upwards. The hint of light was enough to keep her from wandering off the ancient lane. About fifteen minutes later, Alexa reached a barrier. Although she had expected a fence, when confronted with the reality, Alexa whimpered in despair. But she’d come this far; she had to find a way over.

  An eight-foot steel mesh fence fanned out on both sides of the lane. Like at the front of the property, Children of Light had erected a high barrier but must have realized that barbed wire or electrification would draw unwanted attention.

  Alexa studied the gate in front of her with the LED flashlight and giggled out loud. The sound echoed in the quiet night, and she immediately stifled the laugh before it turned hysterical. A tall, slatted steel gate secured the lane. In an extraordinary lapse in security for this fortress, two-inch gaps fell between each horizontal slat. Alexa’s spirits soared at this lucky break.

  Clearly, they didn’t have much trouble with runaways heading this direction. Energized, Alexa put a foot on the second slat and scrambled over the gate.

  On the other side, the lane came to a T at a wider gravel road. This was Alexa’s goal. Ridge Road. This road traversed the top of the South Mountain, mostly through state land. It originated in Mt. Holly Springs to the east. This section intersected with Route 233 near Alexa’s home.

  She took a right, believing she was near Hammonds Rocks, a popular hangout for local teens. The rocks were covered in years of graffiti from kids who came to drink beer, get high, and indulge their hormones every weekend. Alexa hoped that on a summer Friday night, someone would be there partying.

  The kids didn’t hear Alexa coming until she limped into the circle by the campfire.

  “Holy shit,” exclaimed a boy in a motorcycle jacket holding a bong. The smell of marijuana hung in the air. In the flickering firelight, Alexa could read the words SPEED KILLS and SD LOVES FN on one of the big boulders behind him. She often complained that vandals with spray paint had ruined this once-beautiful place, but tonight graffiti was the last thing on her mind.

  Two skimpily-dressed blondes screamed, and another older boy jumped to his feet. Alexa caught the glint of a heavy chain looping from his belt to his back pocket. The boy’s t-shirt pictured two men with the words “Pitbull and Iglesias.”

  “Lady, what the hell? You scared the shit, I mean crap, out of us,” he groused and peered more closely at Alexa. “Hey, are you OK? You don’t look so hot.”

  The blonde in the pink tank top leaned forward to get a better look. “She’s hurt.”

  The other girl yelled, “Lady, your arms are covered in blood. What happened to you?”

  Alexa ran a hand over her hair and realized that these kids were the masters of understatement. She must look like she’d survived the zombie apocalypse. Dirty, ripped clothes and bloody arms. But none of that mattered.

  “I need to call the police. Do you have a cell phone?”

  The two girls exchanged a glance and conferred in excited murmurs. Alexa heard the words “car accident” and “rape.”

  The kid in the motorcycle jacket dropped the bong to the ground. “Cops?”

  Alexa ignited in anger. “Look, I don’t give a flying fuck about the beer or the grass. I’m not going to get you in trouble. But if you don’t help me, my mother could die.” With tears in her eyes, Alexa glared at the older boy, somehow sensing he was the leader of this little group.

  With an abashed look, he took a phone out of his pocket and handed it to Alexa. “Here.”

  Alexa called 911 and reported what had happened. She asked that they send an ambulance along with the police to take care of her mother. Then she dialed John Taylor. She’d called him so many times last autumn that Alexa had memorized his number.

  “Where are you?”

  “At Hammonds Rocks.”

  “I’ll come and get you.”

  The wiry, black-haired boy had been listening to Alexa’s end of the conversation. He broke in to say, “Lady, we can drive you wherever you want to go.”

  “Are you sure? What’s your name?”

  “Angel Ruiz.” He looked down at his feet and mumbled. “I been taking it easy. I’m the designated driver.”

  Alexa returned to the conversation with John. “Trooper Taylor, a young man named Angel Ruiz has generously offered to give me a lift. The Land Rover is sitting in the middle of a field inside the Children of Light compound, so I have no transportation. Can you pick me up at the intersection of Ridge Road and 233?”

  Arguing in low voices, the four kids gathered up their beer and other paraphernalia. She could tell that the girls had reservations about helping. But Angel was insistent. The boy in the jacket fished out a bottle of water from his backpack and handed it to Alexa while the girls doused the fire. She chugged down half the water in a single gulp.

  Together they walked the short distance to the parked car. Although Alexa didn’t know much about cars, she thought it was an ancient Oldsmobile or Chevy. Angel opened the passenger door and steadied Alexa as she collapsed into the wide passenger seat. The other three kids piled in the back. Angel turned the ignition switch and the big car rumbled to life.

  “Thank you so much.” Alexa addressed the entire group. “I’m sorry I ruined your evening. But my mother needs help.” As Alexa choked out those last words, her voice faded. How many hours had it been since she left her mother hidden in the hay?

  She whispered, “Let Mom be alive. Please.”

  Her heart twisted when she realized that she had another call to make. “Can I use your phone one more time?” she asked. As they drove out of the forest, Alexa called her dad.

  The three-mile trip seemed to take forever. Angel drove slowly, but the low car still bottomed out several times on the gravel road. When they finally reached the intersection with the main road, Alexa insisted that the kids leave. “This way, you won’t be involved.”

  “But, lady, what if the cops don’t come? There’s bears and shit out here,” the boy in the motorcycle jacket cautioned from the back seat.

  �
�They’ll be here any minute. You don’t want them to take your names and call your parents, do you?”

  Angel took charge. “Baby, you come up here with me in the front seat when the lady gets out.” Alexa wasn’t sure which blonde was his baby until the shorter one in the sparkly top climbed out the back door and shimmied into the passenger seat.

  Alexa held the car door open for a second and spoke to the group inside. “Thank you so much. I’ll never forget your kindness.”

  The rumble of the big, souped-up engine lingered in the air for a few seconds after the red glow of its taillights disappeared around the curve. For a moment, Alexa felt vulnerable standing there, alone again in the dark forest. Then John’s unmarked police car turned onto Ridge Road and stopped. He spoke a few words into his radio then leapt from the car and swept Alexa into his arms. Alexa leaned into his embrace, feeling safe for the first time in hours.

  “Are you OK? What the hell is going on? I’ve been worried sick ever since you called.”

  “My mom’s in serious danger. The guards from Children of Light shot at us and chased us. A bullet hit Mom, so I stashed her in some haystacks. They’re to the west of the villa, close to Pine Road. I abandoned the Land Rover in the middle of a cornfield and ran for it. You have to save my mom. By now, she could’ve bled to death.” Alexa couldn’t hold back the tears now that she was with a man she trusted completely. “It took me hours to climb up the mountain and find help.”

  Reacting to Alexa’s distress, John hugged her tightly for a moment before he leapt into action. “Get in the car. Do you need medical attention?” He caressed Alexa’s dirty cheek with his hand.

  “No, I’m pretty beat up from running through the forest in the dark, but I’ll survive.”

  In the car, John swung onto the main road. He picked up a handset and radioed a message. “Dispatch from Taylor. I’ll be taking one white adult female into my custody, transporting to scene working on Pine Road. She has physical injury but appears to be OK. Please advise Pine Road team that another white adult female with possible serious injury is on-site there.” He relayed the information about Susan Williams’ location and finished with, “I am on my way to the scene. I will interview Ms. Williams on the way.”