Two FBI thrillers: Before Nightfall and Mistake Creek

by Rachel Amphlett

  ‘But the accident,’ said Nina. ‘With the fuel tanks. That was you too?’

  A smile spread across the other woman’s face.

  ‘You bitch.’

  Nina broke free from her captors’ hold, and launched herself across the room, both hands raised, ready to throttle the woman.

  ‘No!’

  Kyle yelled as Dani’s arm swept upwards, the gun drawing level with Nina’s forehead.

  Hudson moved fast, his hand knocking Dani’s arm as the gun went off, the bullet lodging in the wall behind Nina.

  He pivoted and slapped Nina across the face, and she cried out, falling to the floor before he reached down, hauled her to her feet, and shook her.

  ‘It’s about time I dealt with you,’ he hissed.

  35

  Ross opened his eyes, the coughing fit waking him.

  He blinked, wondering why he was lying on a hard concrete floor, a cold wind blowing through an open door, the rain reduced to a steady drizzle, before he remembered.

  He cried out when he rolled onto his side, his weight falling on his injured leg.

  Fighting the urge to black out again, he checked his watch and tried to work out how long he’d been unconscious.

  He concentrated on taking deep breaths, working through the pain that consumed him, and carefully raised himself up into a sitting position.

  A trail of blood covered the floor from the door to where he sat, and he recalled dragging himself across the forecourt into the shelter of the building.

  After that, his mind was a blank.

  Until now.

  He hissed through his teeth as another bolt of pain shot up his leg and tried to focus on breathing.

  Sweat poured from his brow despite the cold. He removed the bloodied jacket lining and checked his leg. To his relief, the blood appeared to have clotted. He shrugged his t-shirt off his back, tore it into strips, and tied lengths of it around the wound to stop it reopening.

  Satisfied, he turned his attention to the public phone on the wall, Nina’s mobile phone perched on top of it, tantalisingly close.

  His vision blurred, the room spinning, before he shook his head and closed his eyes, desperately trying to avoid the blackness that sought him out, dragging him into unconsciousness.

  He cried out as a spasm shook his leg, then gritted his teeth, opened his eyes, and began to drag his body towards the phone.

  As he hauled his weight across the floor, he whimpered at each movement.

  Reaching the wall, he paused, panting from the effort.

  He stretched up his arm, his fingers brushing the plastic casing of the landline, the mobile phone on top of it still out of reach.

  ‘Shit!’

  He waited until the pain subsided enough that he could shuffle round and sit with his back to the wall, his legs splayed out in front of him.

  The broom Phil had used to sweep up the glass earlier that night was only inches away from his good leg, propped against the counter, and he stretched until his toes met the soft nylon bristles.

  He kicked out and then cursed as the broom wobbled but failed to fall over.

  Inching forward, he leaned back on his palms until his foot found the broom once more, and kicked.

  The broom moved, its handle sliding along the counter, and then began to fall towards him.

  He cried out as he tumbled sideways to catch it, moving his injured leg as his fingers wrapped around the handle.

  Sweat poured down his face, and his eyesight began to blacken at the edges. Ross fought down the urge to faint and instead hefted the broom in his hands and aimed it at the telephone receiver.

  With one swift jab, it fell from its cradle, and swung in the air above Ross’s head on a coiled cable.

  He grinned, reached up to grab it, and put it to his ear.

  Silence filled the line.

  Ross dropped the receiver, letting it swing against the wall, and then his attention snapped back to the mobile phone.

  Another jab with the broom handle sent it toppling towards the floor, and he reached out with his hands seconds before it met the hard surface.

  Exhausted, he shoved the broom aside and held up the phone.

  A weak signal icon hovered at the top of the screen, and he exhaled with relief. He dialled nine-one-one and nearly cried out when a dispatcher answered within seconds.

  ‘My name’s Ross Flanagan,’ he began in a shaking voice. ‘I’m at the Mistake Creek Truck Stop. I’ve been shot.’

  The purr of an approaching vehicle reached his ears.

  He frowned. ‘Hang on a minute.’

  His heart pounding, he held his breath as powerful headlights swept across the forecourt.

  A door opened, and a familiar figure climbed out and stood in front of the car, silhouetted against its frame.

  ‘Oh shit.’

  Ross clutched the mobile phone to his chest, ignoring the urgent tones of the dispatcher at the other end of the line. He leaned over and grasped hold of the broom, then began to haul himself away from the wall, trying to put as much distance as possible between himself and the open doorway.

  He gritted his teeth as pain coursed through his body, tremors seizing his limbs.

  Footsteps sloshed through the puddles on the forecourt, getting closer.

  Ross pulled the broom along the floor with him, a desperate hope that Sean would be unarmed, that he’d be able to defend himself.

  He gritted his teeth as another spasm shook his body, the mobile phone slipping through his fingers and skidding across the floor away from him.

  He checked over his shoulder as he crawled and tried in vain to push the thought from his mind that this could be the end, that he could die within seconds.

  He froze as the footsteps stopped on the threshold. The beam from a flashlight swept across the floor, tracking the smeared blood stains.

  ‘Not a lot of use in hiding, Ross,’ Sean called. ‘You’ve left one hell of a trail of breadcrumbs.’

  His footsteps echoed off the walls, and Ross’s eyes widened as the beam from the flashlight drew closer.

  He dropped the broom and fumbled in the darkness, his fingers scratching at the floor, seeking something they couldn’t find.

  He crawled forwards again, sobbing as the pain consumed him, his fingers grasping nothing but air, until—

  ‘Hold it right there.’

  Ross froze.

  Sean towered over him, his gun raised, his finger on the trigger. He kicked the discarded broom at Ross’s feet and chuckled.

  ‘You really didn’t think you were going to try and kill me with this, did you?’

  ‘No,’ said Ross. ‘I didn’t.’

  He rolled onto his back, the nail gun between his hands with the safety guard pulled back, and fired.

  36

  Nina stopped listening to Hudson and instead concentrated on a low pulse she could hear in the distance, coming closer.

  It sounded familiar, a mechanical throb that approached the property at speed.

  Hudson heard it too and stopped pacing, his head cocked to one side. A smile formed across his lips, and he looked at his men.

  ‘The helicopter’s almost here. Get ready to start loading it.’

  Nina slumped in her captor’s arms.

  A helicopter explained why Hudson wasn’t concerned that the creek was flooded, or that a landslide had blocked the highway through the hills.

  He’d never had any intention to leave by road.

  Kyle cursed loudly, and she turned to him, seeing the look of desperation that flitted across his face before he recovered and listened to Hudson giving orders to his men.

  Their gaze locked, he shook his head, and she knew then that he had no plan. No way to escape.

  Larry stepped forward, ignoring Dani who stood with one hand on her hip, glaring at Nina.

  ‘Boss, I’ve got a better idea what to do with these two.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Why don’t I put them in the bas
ement with the boy?’

  Dani threw her hands up in disgust.

  Larry ignored her and kept talking. ‘There’d be no evidence of them ever being here.’

  ‘If you’re going to do that, I may as well shoot them first,’ said Dani.

  Hudson scratched his chin. ‘But that would be over too quickly for my liking,’ he said, and turned to Larry. ‘Do it – but put them in a different room from the farmer’s boy.’

  Larry nodded and motioned for the two men who held Kyle to follow him as he pushed Nina from the room and along the passageway towards the back of the house.

  ‘You can’t do this!’ Nina pleaded. ‘Can’t you see he’s lost his mind?’

  ‘Shut up. Keep walking.’

  Larry opened a door at the end of the passageway and flipped a light switch.

  A flight of stairs led down into the gloom.

  Nina tried to break past her captor, but he was too quick. Seizing her by the arm, he pulled her down the stairs, the sound of Kyle struggling between the other two men reaching her ears.

  At the bottom of the stairs, Larry turned right, passing several closed doors, solid bolts in place on each.

  Nina trembled, wondering who else Hudson held captive, then shouted.

  ‘Tim! Are you here?’

  A subdued voice emanated from behind one of the doors, and Nina choked back a sob.

  ‘He’s only nineteen!’ she yelled. ‘Let him go – please!’

  Larry’s hand snaked across her mouth, muffling her cries.

  Her mind raced as she questioned every single choice she’d made the past four weeks. If only she’d listened to her father’s arguments that there was nothing wrong with him. If only she hadn’t insisted on returning to Mistake Creek, hell-bent on selling the truck stop.

  And if only Ross hadn’t insisted on being his usual generous self and helping her, he’d have been home, protecting his family tonight, and not her.

  Tears began to course down her cheeks as Larry paused in front of the last door.

  He shot the bolt back, then stepped aside and shoved Nina into the small room, Kyle stumbling after her, scowling at the two men who had held him.

  The smaller of the two reached out to turn the light off, but Larry stopped him.

  ‘No,’ he said, turning to Nina and Kyle. ‘Let them watch what happens when they don’t mind their own business.’

  The men laughed and backed out of the makeshift cell.

  Larry pulled the door, began to close it, and then glanced at Kyle over his shoulder.

  ‘Look on the bright side. At least it’ll be a short stay.’

  As soon as the door slammed shut and the bolts slid across its outer surface, Kyle leapt from his sitting position and made his way towards the charge that had been attached to the wall.

  Nina crossed the room to join him, peering round his body to see what he was doing.

  His hands moved cautiously over the surface of the outer casing, his face a mask of concentration. He dropped to a crouch and craned his neck to one side so he could see underneath the box-like appendage.

  Nina followed the path of his hands with her eyes as he tested and prodded the plastic cover. A red light blinked on the upper surface, and wires protruded from the left-hand side nearest the door.

  Eventually, he straightened, and looked down at her, his jaw set.

  ‘I can’t disarm it.’

  ‘What?’ Nina’s eyes opened wide. ‘But you have to – there has to be some way!’

  ‘I can’t,’ he said. ‘There’s no way. There’s an anti-tamper mechanism fixed to it. If I try to disarm it, it’s going to explode anyway. And they’ve set it up so it’s triggered remotely, not by a timer from here.’

  ‘Why?’

  Kyle checked over his shoulder at the blinking light. ‘I guess so they could make sure they were all clear before it goes off.’

  A sob escaped Nina’s lips. ‘We’re going to die, aren’t we?’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ said Kyle, pulling her into his arms. ‘I’m so sorry.’

  Nina sniffed and wiped her eyes. She returned Kyle’s embrace, a desperate need for human contact. ‘This can’t be happening.’

  Kyle smoothed her hair, his breath caressing her ear. He said nothing and simply listened, letting her talk.

  ‘I can’t believe they’ve killed Ross,’ she wept, curling her fingers into his shirt. ‘He’s such a good man – he was just trying to help us.’

  ‘I hate this job sometimes.’

  Nina raised her head and met his gaze. ‘Just sometimes?’

  ‘Yeah. Especially the part where innocent people like you get sucked into the mess I’m supposed to be fixing.’

  ‘You did your best, Kyle. Hopefully your boss will find the truck in time, somehow.’

  ‘Maybe.’

  Nina peered around the room, her gaze falling to the blinking red light of the charge set onto the wall.

  ‘Will it be quick?’

  She heard him swallow.

  ‘I hope so,’ he whispered. ‘I’ve never been blown up before, so I don’t know.’

  Nina smiled through her tears, despite the dire situation. ‘How do you do that, Kyle? How can you joke about it?’

  ‘It’s the only way I know how to cope.’

  They fell silent, each lost in their own thoughts.

  Nina closed her eyes. Twelve hours ago, her only concern was whether the storm would tear apart the truck stop. She sniffed, and Kyle’s arms tightened around her.

  His lips brushed her hair before he rested his cheek against her forehead, his hands caressing her shoulders, soothing her.

  Without warning, the floor and walls shook violently, sending plaster dust over Nina and Kyle as they lurched and stumbled, trying to keep their balance.

  Nina screamed, terrified, as ceiling panels fell to the floor, exposing wires and timber supports.

  ‘Over here!’ yelled Kyle, and pulled her with him to the door, seeking shelter from the debris tumbling around them.

  Nina pulled her shirt up, covering her mouth and nose, and as the tremors subsided, she leaned against the wall, her legs shaking.

  ‘They’re destroying the house,’ she gasped.

  Kyle shook his head. ‘That was one of the outbuildings,’ he said.

  Nina glanced over her shoulder where the charge continued to blink.

  ‘We’re going to be buried alive before that goes off,’ she said, her voice trembling. ‘Aren’t we?’

  He ran a hand through his hair, white powder dusting his shoulders. ‘I don’t know,’ he said, his face solemn. ‘It depends on where they’ve placed the charges, what sort of explosives they’re using…’

  Nina held her hand up to stop him. ‘I don’t want to know the rest.’

  A second explosion pushed her off balance, sending her flying into Kyle.

  He swore as they collapsed to the floor, and she realised he’d fallen on his wounded shoulder.

  ‘Take cover,’ he yelled, and at the same time ducked his head between his knees, his forearms crossing the back of his skull.

  Nina copied him, an ominous creaking sound reaching her ears before the ceiling panel above them collapsed.

  She whimpered in terror as the low wattage light bulb swung back and forth, the pressure wave sweeping through the basement, the thought of enduring the final, fatal, explosion in darkness too much to bear.

  As the noise subsided, she raised her head.

  Kyle had sat upright, frowning at the door.

  Nina waited for the ringing in her ears to ease, then heard it too.

  Footsteps, hurrying along the passageway outside. Heading towards them.

  ‘Give me your boots,’ Kyle said under his breath.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Your boots. Now!’

  Nina leaned down, unlaced her boots, then slipped them off and handed them to Kyle.

  He snatched them from her, hurried to the pile of fallen ceiling panels, and tucked her b
oots under them, only the toes protruding. He stepped back, reached down to adjust one of the panels, then jogged back to the door and checked his handiwork.

  He motioned to Nina to join him next to the wall, and then put a finger to his lips.

  She nodded, cleared the distance between them in four long strides, and cowered behind him, her back to the charge.

  Kyle moved beside her, bent down, and picked up half of a broken timber beam that had fallen from the ceiling cavity, hefting it in his grip, testing its weight.

  As the footsteps stopped outside the door, they heard a man curse before the bolt was released.

  The door swung inwards, hiding them from sight.

  A cough and then another curse preceded a flashlight beam being swung around the room, sweeping back and forth over the devastation in the dusty gloom.

  ‘Ah, fuck.’

  The profanity escaped from the man as the flashlight found the boots lying under the debris in the shadows.

  Larry stepped forward, and Kyle pounced, shoving the door shut and swinging the length of timber down onto the base of the man’s neck.

  He grunted in surprise, but the timber was already too warped and broken to cause any lasting damage. He spun, his eyes opening wide, before he held his hand up to ward off another blow to his head.

  ‘Stop!’ he bellowed. ‘I’m here to help you!’

  37

  Kyle raised the makeshift weapon above his head, ready to strike.

  ‘Explain,’ he said.

  Larry stepped back, his hand still raised. ‘I’m DEA agent Lawrence Whitman,’ he said. ‘I’ve been deep cover in Hudson’s crew for the past twelve months.’

  Nina covered her mouth in shock as Kyle’s eyes narrowed.

  ‘Prove it,’ he said.

  Larry pointed to the ceiling. ‘I set the charges to go off early,’ he said. ‘Right now, half of Hudson’s men are dead.’ He flicked his wrist and checked his watch. ‘In precisely sixty seconds, the first of the charges in the house you’re under will go off. If you don’t want to be buried alive, I’d suggest you come with me.’

  ‘I’ll go with that,’ said Kyle, and pushed Nina towards the door.

  Her hand was crushed in Larry’s as he pulled her along the passageway, Kyle’s footsteps close behind.