Before I Go: A dark and tense psychological crime thriller.

by Marie Reyes

“Listen, sorry I was such a mess yesterday. I’m not always on drugs, trust me.”

  “I was taught that when someone says trust me, it usually means they’re lying.”

  “I… I wasn’t.”

  “Chill, I was joking.”

  The Girl from Ipanema came on the radio. It was an old-fashioned song for this young crowd, but somehow it fit. “I was thinking.” He got up from his chair and ran over to the other table. “Excuse me, do you mind?” he asked, reaching for the leaflet he was browsing earlier.

  “Okay,” said one of the girls at the table, looking overly annoyed that he had the audacity to interrupt their breakfast.

  Michael sat back down and opened the pamphlet. “How about… boat trip?” For some reason he did jazz hands as he said it.

  “That sounds lovely, really, but I’m leaving tomorrow and I’ve got a couple of things to do and…” She trailed off. For some reason, he got the impression she wanted him to talk her into it. His heart sank when she said she was leaving. He barely knew Josie, but he did know she made him feel less alone.

  “Come on. Live a little. You said you’re leaving. You’ve got to make the most of all this.”

  “I’m not going home. I have somewhere else I need to be.”

  “No, I get it.” Michael wished he could leave his breakfast and let the ground swallow him whole. He had embarrassed himself enough already and this girl clearly had some heavy shit going on.

  “I was thinking maybe some ruins. I’ve been so busy; I haven’t had a chance to see any yet.”

  “Yeah. Totally.” He smiled, and then overcompensated by frowning, not wanting to look too eager.

  He flagged down the waitress. “Una cafe por favor.” He assumed he had said it wrong as the waitress looked at him blankly. “Black coffee.” He reverted back to English and luckily she spoke English better than he spoke Spanish.

  He leaned in to Josie. “Did I say it right?”

  “Your pronunciation is all off. Don’t worry about it.” She leaned back in her chair.

  After breakfast, Michael went to book the tour, and luckily there were still two seats left. He agreed to meet Josie back in the lobby. He’d seen his fair share of ruins already on this trip, but this time an odd feeling of excitement crept up on him. It had been so long, he almost forgot what it felt like.

  Chapter Seven

  The white bus dropped them off on the roadside, and the driver announced that they had two hours to walk around before they had to be back. There was no tour guide included, not that Michael minded, as he was far more interested in finding out what Josie had been talking to her parents about, than he was in the ruins.

  Wisps of cloud stretched across the blue sky, which disappeared as they made their way into the jungle, and the trees shielded them from the constant glare of the sun. Josie stopped in front of a large sign to look at the map of the area.

  “The main ruins are to the left.” She took the fork in the road and he followed her down the tree-lined path. They weren’t even that deep in the jungle, yet he already had two red bumps on his shoulders. Mosquitoes just loved to feast on him.

  Josie watched him scratch. “Mosquitoes never seem to bite me. Like my blood isn’t good enough for them.”

  “Think yourself lucky.” He firmly rubbed his fingers across the itchy part of his arm, trying not to irritate the skin even more.

  “So you never said where you’re going tomorrow. Somewhere nice, I hope?”

  “Arenales.” She concentrated on the path ahead, marching as if she were on a mission.

  “You ever heard of living in the moment? Slow down and smell the roses.” He picked up his pace to keep up with her, regretting not renting one of the bikes on offer.

  “I want to get to the ruins,” she said, maintaining her pace.

  “Life’s about the journey, not the destination.” He came up beside her.

  “You’re full of idioms today, aren’t you?” She smiled.

  He wondered how she wasn’t all red, and out of breath like he was. It was already far more humid than it was back at the hotel. He felt sticky, like he already needed a shower since this morning. “So what’s in Arenales?” He asked, trying to remain casual. “Never heard of it.”

  “It’s not that popular. People used to go to a wildlife sanctuary near there, but it closed down a while back.”

  He stayed quiet, waiting for her to elaborate, hoping her words would fill the space he had left for her.

  “I’m looking for something… someone.”

  He waited for her to finish, but no more words came. Sensing her awkwardness, he put her out of her misery. “It’s fine you don’t have to—”

  “It was my sister. A year ago. She was kidnapped.”

  “Shit. I’m sorry.” He had suspected she might say something like this and tried so hard to sound surprised he realized he had done a shitty job of sounding empathetic. Not that he was ever helpful in these types of situations anyway. He didn’t have anyone close enough to him to miss if they were gone.

  “They never found her, not alive or de…” She couldn’t finish the sentence.

  “That sucks. It must be awful not knowing. Is that what you’re doing in Arenales?” He swatted an insect that hovered around his face.

  “I know it’s stupid. I know some girl like me isn’t going to get anywhere. I know I’m kidding myself. It’s not like I’m going to magically find her or anything, but I can try. It’s almost like… I don’t know… like if I go to where she last was, that I’d be closer to her somehow.”

  “I understand, I mean I don’t understand, obviously, but I get it.” He lit up a cigarette to take the edge off, then instantly wondered if he was even allowed to smoke here. It was too late now. “Do you have a plan?” He inhaled deeply and released a stream of smoke into the air.

  “Not really. When I got here, I reached out to the police, the consulate, the press. They were about as helpful as they were when it all happened.”

  “So what happened exactly? I mean, you don’t have to tell me, but it might help to get it out, maybe?” He looked down at his cigarette as ash floated off the end.

  “I was at home. I was living with my parents at the time, saving for my own place. She called. She was in a taxi and they demanded money for her release. The authorities told us not to pay, but my dad was adamant. They were supposed to let her go. My dad did everything they asked. Paid the next day to some untraceable bank account. Basically, all of their money. We wouldn’t have given a shit, we would have paid anything. But they never let her go. She never came back.”

  Michael knew if he opened his mouth he would probably say the wrong thing. He offered her the second half of his cigarette.

  “Thanks.” She breathed in deeply. “I think I might look into the cab companies.”

  “That sounds a bit dangerous. What if something happened to you too?”

  “I don’t care. I’ve had this argument with my folks a million times already. I don’t need it from someone I barely even know.”

  “Fine. I’ll drop it.” He didn’t want to drop it, but he wasn’t much one for confrontation.

  “So, how long are you here for?” she asked, regaining composure at the flick of a switch.

  “A couple of weeks.” A screech made him look up at the trees, and he wondered if it was a bird or a howler monkey.

  “So what are you doing here, alone?”

  “I don’t know. Drowning my sorrows. So what was she like?” He regretted the words as he said them, wishing he could just leave it alone.

  “She was a free spirit for sure. Never home. Adventurous. Spontaneous. Reckless. Always seemed to be in some kind of trouble. I’d barely see her, I don’t know if that made her disappearance harder or easier, although I couldn’t imagine it being harder.”

  “Listen. I don’t mean to intrude, or to be weird or anything, but if you get into any trouble out there, or need anything, let me know. I could always pay you a visit, check in?”


  “Why don’t you come? Actually. Sorry I asked. I’m sure you don’t want to spend your vacation—”

  “I’d like to. I would, but I spent most of my money on the hotel.” It was true, but not the whole truth. He was here for a reason, a reason he couldn’t be distracted from.

  They stayed quiet until they reached the main pyramid. He wasn’t expecting it to be so big, and it was only when he overheard other people, that he discovered this was the second largest Mayan pyramid in Mexico. Josie’s eyes lit up when she saw it and she went straight to the base of the pyramid, gazing up to the peak. There was a long white rope secured all the way up the steps for people to hold on to. It looked even steeper when he reached the first step, and vertigo already set in. He just concentrated on what was in front of him. Just one wrong step on the uneven, rugged stone and he could see himself tumbling back, cracking his head on the rock as he fell. Maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad thing—just some tragic accident. He counted one hundred steps and took a deep breath before traversing the next few. The view at the top was worth it. The jungle spread as far as the eye could see, and he turned to see a look of appreciation on Josie’s face.

  “They say it’s much worse on the way down.” A sweet older lady told him in between taking photos. Maybe she had noticed how unfit he was from spending so much time planted to his couch watching television. The sounds of the forest reminded him of the nature tracks he used to listen to when he went to sleep and wanted to block out his thoughts, and a light breeze brushed past him as he tried to capture the moment in his mind like a photograph. He wanted this to be one of the last things he remembered. This random moment he was sharing with Josie, high above the trees, looking down at the world below.

  By the time they had explored the other fork in the road, they still had just under an hour left. “See, this is what happens when you rush,” Michael said with a hint of faux smugness.

  “What are you complaining about? Now we get to relax and just take it all in.” She found a shady spot for them to sit on a large tree root overlooking the smaller ruins.

  “Don’t judge me,” he said, pulling a small bottle of rum out of his daypack.

  “You’ve been holding out on me.” She waited for him to take a swig before taking the bottle from him.

  Chapter Eight

  Josie wobbled as she scaled the steps to the hotel, holding her arms out as if she was walking a tightrope.

  “The tables have turned,” Michael said, glad not to be the one to have overindulged for a change. He felt vaguely guilty for reveling in her loss of control, but not for long.

  She yanked him by the arm so hard it almost hurt, not realizing her own strength. “We should go to the bar.”

  “Don’t you think you’ve had enough?” He wasn’t usually one to stop a party before it had begun, but he knew she had a lot on her plate, and didn’t think it would be wise for her to have a monstrous hangover the next day.

  “I’m just getting started baby. You don’t tell me when I’ve had enough. I tell you when I’ve had enough… when you’ve had enough.” She grabbed his hands and clumsily moved her feet back and forth, trying to make him salsa with her at the top of the steps. Her hips swayed in such an exaggerated way, it was more comical than sexy. Michael humored her and twirled her under his arm.

  “We should go dancing.” Her voice echoed off the granite surfaces.

  “Maybe you should eat something? Don’t you have an early morning tomorrow?” Michael wanted nothing more than to dance with her until the early hours, to make the most of the time they had together, but if he knew anything, he knew that glazed look of someone that didn’t know when enough was enough, as he had seen it in the mirror more times than he could remember.

  “Alright mom. You know what? You’re so bossy.”

  “People gotta look out for each other, a wise person once told me.”

  “Hey, you can’t use my words against me. Not cool man.”

  “What about room service?”

  “Yes, yes!” She was almost shouting. “Room service. You know what, you have the best ideas.”

  He decided them finishing the entire bottle of rum on the journey back had probably not been the best idea as he watched her run up to a random group of strangers by the elevator and start hugging them.

  ***

  When the doors opened on Josie’s floor, they were confronted with a large group of girls sporting light pink sashes. One woman wore a veil at such a jaunty angle it looked like it would fall off her head at any moment, only to get trampled by the procession of bachelorettes behind. A penis shaped straw hung from her mouth. Usually he couldn’t imagine anything more annoying than a bachelorette party, but that night, they had caught him in a good mood.

  “Wooo!!!” Josie shouted at them, which culminated in a hallway of screaming woman, and he couldn’t help but laugh. “This is me.” Josie stopped in front of her door and put the keycard in. “It’s not working. Why isn’t it working?”

  “Wrong way.” Michael leaned over her, took out the card and re-inserted it the other way.

  “You… you are amazing.” She poked him in the chest.

  “You have a pretty low bar for amazing, but I’ll take it.” He followed her inside, and she switched on the light, revealing clothes strewn over the floor. Somehow he had pegged her as a neat-freak.

  “I’m getting daiquiris,” she announced.

  “Okay, but don’t blame me if you end up barfing.”

  “I will blame only you. Nachos, I’m so getting nachos.” Her attention seemed to grow shorter. It was almost as if she were a caricature of a drunk person. An accumulation of every drunk stereotype going. He almost wondered if she was playing it up, until she stumbled again. He had to admit, it was fun to watch her cut loose—to see the transformation from the serious woman he had met in the elevator.

  Josie sat on the bed as Michael called room service and once he had ordered their food, he scooted the armchair closer to the bed and sat down. “Can I get you a water or anything?”

  “Nah I’m good.” She propped herself up against the wall with a pillow behind her, and they sat quietly for a moment. As the silence went on, Josie gazed into space—her smile disappearing, replaced by a frown.

  “So how are you getting to Arenales tomorrow?”

  “Bus.”

  He considered asking her what time, so he could say goodbye to her in the morning, but something about the look on her face made him change his mind in a split second, and that was all it took to send his life hurtling in another direction. “If you still want me to, I’d like to go with you.”

  The smile came back to her face. “I mean yeah, if that’s what you want. I’ll totally cover your accommodation. I can’t promise it will be as nice as here. And food and drink too. Call it payment for your services.”

  “My services?”

  She started sliding down the wall as if she’d had enough of being vertical. “Yeah. You can be my bodyguard.”

  “Ha. If your idea of having me as a bodyguard is me using you as a human shield then you’re on.”

  “You’re too far away.” She shifted, making space on the bed, and held her arm out to him.

  Although he wanted nothing more than to join her on the bed, he thought better of it. “The food will be here any minute, I might as well—” A knock at the door came in perfect time. “I’ll get it.” He sprang up from his chair and walked to the door to let the steward in with his metal cart. Michael took the drinks while the steward put the plates on the table for them. “Gracias.” He passed the steward a tip and brought the plates over to the bed. “Anyone order nachos?”

  “Me, me. I did!” She reached out and took the plate, piled high with nachos, salsa and guacamole. “Hell yeah.” She stuffed a chip in her mouth, somehow leaving salsa on her cheek in the process.

  “Um, you’ve got a little something on…”

  She grabbed another nacho and sunk it into a dollop of guaca
mole, dropping some onto her T-shirt. “I’m so hot right now,” she said with her mouth open.

  “Well, don’t hog them.” He reached out his hand towards the plate and she batted it away.

  “My nachos.” She turned away from him, shielding the plate from his grasping hands as if she wanted him to fight her for them.

  He backed away. “I think I should go back to my room. I barely got any sleep last night. I’m running on fumes here.”

  “Well, if you’re going to be a baby about it.” She held out the plate to him.

  He took a single nacho. “Good night. What time did you want to meet tomorrow?”

  “You can’t just take my nachos and leave.”

  He tried to work out what she wanted from him. Maybe she just didn’t want to be alone. Maybe it was something else. He knew he couldn’t trust himself, and he didn’t want to take advantage of that dangerous mix of drunk and vulnerable. “Nachos are on me tomorrow, okay. Try to get some sleep.” He put the plate on the bedside table and took a sip of his drink. “Here, you might need this.” He grabbed the trash-can and placed it next to the bed.

  Chapter Nine

  He was half-expecting her not to be there when he got to the lobby, like the last few days had been a figment of his imagination, or some hallucination. Most of his time in Mexico had felt that way—not real. Everything looked different—everyone acted differently. Travel had its own rules. Josie stood alone as a stream of people bustled past her, rushing out the door like an ocean current. Michael had left some belongings at the hotel, as he didn’t want to have a member of staff think he had gone and to give his room to someone else. He still needed that room.

  It was light and airy at reception, despite crowds of people milling around waiting for their tour buses to arrive to take them where they needed to go.

  He resisted the urge to creep up on her and waved to alert her of his presence. “And how are you feeling today?” he asked, approaching her slowly, as one might approach a timid wild animal.