Four Crows

by Lily White

  “I’m going to release you, Daddy. But I don’t want you hurting Elliot. I can’t have you two killing each other, okay? You’ll just have to understand that I can’t let this go further tonight. I can’t.”

  “Untie me, Maggie, and then go inside the house. I won’t let you get in the way of this.”

  Tears slipped from my eyes. I wasn’t used to defying my father, not openly at least. A small bit of fear ran through me that I needed to tap down in order to finish what I’d planned.

  Pushing up so that our faces were nose to nose, I whispered my apology before plunging the needle in his neck. His eyes widened in disbelief, and I waited as long as it took for him to finally pass out from the effects of the drug I’d given him.

  “Why the hell did you do that, you stupid bitch? Are you trying to get us all killed?”

  My head spun to the left at the sound of Finn’s voice and I smiled. “I wouldn’t give two shits if you got killed. But I’m still saving your ass one way or another. If I were you, I’d shut up and let me do what I need to do to save the entire family.”

  He continued screaming obscenities at my back as I pushed up on my feet and ran towards the house. As soon as I got inside, I ripped open one of the drawers and grabbed a kitchen knife before running back outside. Elliot and my father were still passed out as far as I could tell and I moved quickly to free my father. After cutting away the plastic ties that bound his hands and feet, I dropped the knife in the dirt beneath me and turned to run back to the truck.

  “Hey! What about me, Maggie? Untie me!”

  “Screw you, Finn. For all I care, you can stay tied up in that position until the day you die.”

  It felt good to fight back against him for once. In fact, it felt so good that the worry I’d felt about everything I’d just done melted away leaving me proud of myself for having handled it. My father was free, but would be asleep for the next hour or so, hopefully. It gave me time to drive away with Elliot in the truck, time to escape this crappy situation and come up with another idea about how to keep this from happening all over again.

  In truth, an hour wasn’t all that much time to run away, but if I drove fast enough and took back roads, there was a chance I could get far enough that my family wouldn’t find me. Beyond hiding from my family, I had to get the truck to a place where Elliot wouldn’t immediately recognize where we were when he finally woke up. I hoped that meant I’d have time to talk him out of whatever plan he had for my family – that I could convince him to let it all go, run away with me, and start a new life.

  They say time flies when you’re having fun. What they didn’t mention is that it also flies when you’re running for your life with an unconscious man lying next to you and your foot pressed so hard on the gas that the trees and other objects littering the side of the road became nothing but unidentifiable shadows as you blast past them.

  Without knowing where the hell I was running to, I continued flooring the gas pedal without worrying of wrecking the truck on back roads typically only used by the locals. I’d worried that we’d run past a car or two on the way to wherever I was going, but fortunately I hadn’t seen a soul as we weaved through the darkness that blanketed the lonely rural roads.

  An hour passed before I realized it was gone. We were now approaching the three hour mark without Elliot having stirred beside me. Anxiety was my only companion as I dared to look over at him and wonder if I should stop just to ensure he was still breathing. What concerned me even more was the thought that I’d shot my Daddy up with the same amount of the drug when his body wasn’t near as strong as Elliot’s.

  Visions of my father dying while my brothers were powerless to help him starting clogging up my mind, and I damn near broke down crying. If by trying to help I’d killed him in the end, I’d never get over the guilt.

  Banishing those thoughts since they weren’t doing me any good, I focused on the road ahead hoping that Elliot would eventually wake up enough to let me know he was okay.

  Another hour passed by as I flew down the deserted roads. Eventually hitting a highway, I had no idea where I’d ended up, so I made the quick decision to take a right and see where the road would take me. I didn’t recognize any landmarks along the way and the signs indicating exits weren’t much help either. On one hand, it scared me to think that I was getting myself so lost I’d never find my way back home, but on the other I realized this was exactly what I’d intended to do. If I couldn’t find my way back, than neither could Elliot. It would buy me the time I needed to convince him to let all of this go.

  I hated being left alone with only my thoughts because it allowed the reality of the situation to sneak in.

  Elliot knew my family had something to do with the deaths of his wife and son. Worse than that, he knew that I knew it, too, and had said nothing. I wasn’t sure if he could forgive me for my silence. The thought crossed my mind that he’d kill me for keeping that information from him during the weeks that we’d gotten to know each other.

  Reaching out, I turned on the radio hoping the music would help me relax or, at least, keep the frightening thoughts at bay. Old Southern Rock blasted from the speakers, my stomach in knots the minute I heard it. Turning the dial, I eventually found modern rock, the tempo so fast and the drumbeats so loud that it scrambled my mind just like I needed. Normally I wasn’t a fan of this type of music, but it was perfect for distracting me from all the questions running around inside me.

  By the fourth hour we’d been on the road, I settled back in the seat just to feel that something warm, wet and sticky was beneath me. It took me a few minutes to realize that nature had called when I hadn’t been listening.

  And, as usual, it called at the worst possible time.

  Being a girl isn’t easy. Once every month you have to constantly be prepared for whatever it is your insides decide to do with you. Some months weren’t so bad and my period only lasted two to three days without any cramps or headaches to speak of. However, there were other months were it felt like my uterus was attempting to claw its way out of my body, the heaviness of my period causing me to run to the bathroom every hour just to keep from ruining my clothes. This was starting to be an in-between month, but in all fairness, I didn’t really have a way of gauging it. I’d had sex for the first time the night before - which hadn’t been pleasant in the slightest - and then I was run through hell tonight because of stubborn men.

  Regardless of the reasons, I needed to pull over and get myself cleaned up. I also needed to buy some female supplies, but wasn’t quite sure how I would do it. I didn’t think to grab the bag I packed before hopping in Elliot’s truck. I didn’t have a change of clothes, food, money, tampons or anything else. I’d be kicking myself right now if I didn’t also remember that I was dealing with unusual circumstances. Normally I’m the type to be prepared, but I hadn’t been given much notice I’d be kidnapping a man for the sole purpose of keeping him from killing my family.

  Blasting through another twenty miles had me well and good lost and the gas indicator flashing that the truck was running out of fuel. Glancing over at Elliot, I wondered if he had a credit card in his wallet that I could sneak to fill up the tank and purchase some hygiene products.

  There was no other way to find out than to stop and search, so I pulled into the first gas station I could find at the exit.

  The place was as deserted as the roads had been, but I didn’t let the lack of activity bother me. As far as the attendant knew, I was just another normal girl, driving a normal truck, with her boyfriend passed out in the passenger seat. Deciding that I’d claim we were on a road trip if he asked any questions, I pulled up to the gas tanks and turned off the truck. Glancing over at Elliot, I realized he’d been snoring softly, but I hadn’t been able to hear him over the radio. It was a relief to listen to him breathe - to know that I didn’t killed him with the drugs I’d pumped in his system.

  Slipping my hand into the back pocket of his cargo pants, I bit my lip not to wh
oop when I found a wallet. Slowly opening it, I wasn’t prepared for the photo that stared up at me.

  A younger version of Elliot sat smiling with a beautiful woman by his side. But, whereas his eyes were on the person taking the picture, the woman’s eyes were cast down at the baby in her arms, a warm smile full of pure love pulling at her lips. There was hope in Elliot’s gaze, something I’d never seen in him since the moment we met.

  How had I been so stupid not to notice he never divulged much about himself? Granted, we hadn’t known each other long enough to truly know anything about the other, but thinking back made it perfectly clear that in all the hours we’d spent talking at the abandoned farm, he’d been pulling information from me without offering much about himself.

  I didn’t know the Elliot I saw in the photograph, and glancing over at his sleeping body, I realized I didn’t know the Elliot sleeping beside me either.

  That wasn’t entirely true, I guess. I did know some things about him. I knew that he’d been young when his son was born. I knew he had a wife and I knew that my family had stolen his family away from him. I also knew what happened to his family – not the specific details, but enough that I could have told him there was no hope in finding them alive and well.

  Shame was a weight on my shoulders, and as I carried the burden of all the things I knew and didn’t know, I slipped his credit card from his wallet and added yet another reason onto the long list of why I felt ashamed.

  Carefully creeping out of the car, I shut the door as softly as possible and made my way across the parking lot towards the store. Anxiety followed behind me like a creepy stalker. It took a step when I took one, and it stopped to stand in my shadow when I paused to look behind me back at the truck. There was no sign that Elliot had woken up since I shut the driver’s side door, but knowing that didn’t help me shake my apprehension.

  If you’ve seen one rural gas station, you’ve seen them all, and this one was no different. It was a small run down building with large windows that didn’t appear to have been washed in quite some time. The parking lot was littered with debris, the concrete was uneven and the few parking spaces in front no longer had lines delineating one from the other. To the right of me was a two bay auto garage, the large steel doors slid down and locked in place for the night. The building could have used a coat of paint or ten, but it must have been good enough as it was to keep whoever owned it with a roof over his head and food in his belly.

  Opening the glass door of the small shop, I heard the faint ding that rang through the store alerting the attendant to my presence. Nobody was standing behind the counter, but within seconds I saw an older man step out from a back room, his brown hair greying at the temples and his baggy clothes wrinkled across his body.

  “Bit late for a shopping trip, isn’t it?” He sounded like he’d just been woken by the bell and didn’t appreciate the disturbance.

  Smiling as brightly as I could manage, I edged towards the center aisles. “Just on a road trip with my boyfriend. He’s sleeping out in the car, but I needed to pick up some female products.”

  As soon as I mentioned what I’d come in search of, his face wrinkled with embarrassment. It worked that way with most men, at least from what I could tell with the men in my family. They knew women had periods, and they understood the mechanics of how a woman’s time of the month worked, but the mere mention of the subject had them itching to run from the room or ignore the issue as much as was humanly possible.

  “Aisle two,” he called out before ducking beneath a ledge and popping back up again behind the counter.

  I didn’t mind that he ended the conversation as soon as I mentioned what I was purchasing, it just meant there were less lies I had to tell.

  Finding a travel size box of an off-brand feminine hygiene product, I dusted off the top and chuckled to myself wondering how long it had sat there untouched. Beggars couldn’t be choosers at that moment, so I took the only product they had available and made my way to the counter.

  “So,” the man asked, his eyes darting to the box in my hand before a touch of red colored his cheeks. “Where are you and your boyfriend headed? Must be a long trip if you’re still driving this late at night instead of tucked into a warm bed somewhere.”

  I hadn’t thought that far in the lie I was telling. Given that I was a horrible liar as it was, I didn’t have a quick response to offer him.

  “Um, just driving, really,” I said, looking everywhere but at the man who was now staring at me like I was an idiot. “Which reminds me: I need gas as well.”

  His fingers pressed some buttons on the cash register, electronic beeps filling the silent space between us. “Okay. How much do you need?”

  Glancing over at the truck, I shrugged my shoulders. “I need to fill it up, I assume.”

  “How much does the truck take?”

  In all honesty, I had no clue. Elliot’s truck was a newer vehicle and I was well aware that gas tanks had grown smaller over the years to make room for whatever fancy options the automakers were offering. “I think fifteen gallons should do it.”

  His lips pulling into a thin line, the man peered out the window at the truck. “You sure? A truck that size should take more. If you want I could walk out there with you to help.”

  “No!” My voice was an octave higher on that panicked answer. The last thing I needed was the attendant to get anywhere near the truck where Elliot was passed out. Sure, I’d already told him that my boyfriend was sleeping, but what if Elliot woke up? I didn’t want the attendant to be a witness to the heated conversation I was sure would occur. “I filled it up before and that’s how much it took. If I need more I can always stop again later on.”

  Thankfully, the man dropped the conversation and rang up both the tampons and the gas. I handed him Elliot’s card, but he returned it to me and motioned for me to use the card scanner facing my direction.

  “If it’s got a chip, you’ll need to insert it. Otherwise, just slide it like normal. We just got the chip reader in the other day. It takes a minute for it to work.”

  Slipping the card into the slot, I selected debit, but then quickly realized I didn’t have Elliot’s PIN number. Cancelling the transaction, I inserted the card again and selected credit. Luckily it took, and I scribbled out an illegible signature as fast as I could.

  The transaction was approved and I breathed out a sigh of relief. Handing me the receipt, the attendant nodded his head in my direction before mumbling, “Have a good night, Miss.”

  “You, too,” I called out, my feet carrying me quickly towards the door before I realized I wasn’t quite finished with the tasks I needed to accomplish. My hand hit the door before I turned back to the attendant to ask, “By chance, can I use your bathroom?”

  He indicated to the back of the building with his hand. “Bathroom’s around back. I’ll apologize now for the condition of it. People aren’t the cleanest when it’s not their job to tidy up the mess.”

  I nodded my head in response and ducked out the door, hurrying as fast as I could to the restroom to use the toilet and clean up the mess I’d made of myself.

  The attendant hadn’t been kidding about the condition of the bathroom. Fighting the urge to cut and run when I flicked the light switch to see the brown linoleum floor that should have been white, the toilet that hadn’t been flushed since the last person used it and the sink that had rust stains around the edges and some green goo covering the bottom, I held my breath as I went about my business.

  As soon as I stepped outside again, I released that breath and stood still for a moment to pull clean air into my lungs and dispel the dizziness I felt after refusing to breathe the entire time I’d been inside. I hadn’t been able to clean up as much as I’d wanted, but I did the best I could with the small amount of water that dripped from the sink and the lack of paper towels.

  Crossing over the parking lot, I was in a rush to gas up the truck and get back on the road. A sneaking sense of something was bru
shing up against my thoughts, but I ignored it as I opened the gas tank and inserted the nozzle. The gas trickled in as slow as a snail. Eventually the fifteen gallons were in the tank and I set everything back to right before rounding the truck to climb back in to the driver’s seat.

  It had been my mistake not to check on Elliot before pumping the gas. And I’d been a damn fool for not searching my surroundings for any danger that might lurk in the dark.

  A large, strong hand wrapped over my mouth just as I reached for the handle to the door, and a seriously pissed off voice hissed in my ear as my body was shoved against the side of the truck.

  “Let me tell you now how this is going to go. You’re going to get in the truck. You’re going to scoot over to the passenger side. You’re not going to make a fucking sound while following the first two instructions. And then you’re going to tell me where the fuck we are before giving me the directions to get back to your fucking house.”

  The burning in my lungs was like nothing I’d ever felt before. My eyes were shut tight, my head lolled to the side of my body and my back ached with a vengeance for having fallen asleep in a damn chair. The smell of a dying fire was clogging my nostrils and my throat was as dry as a damn desert.

  As my mind focused on clearing the fog that had it trapped, I fought against the hold my sleep kept on me. Anger was a pulsing beat in my veins, but at the moment I woke I couldn’t remember why.

  Hatred blazed. Betrayal a whisper on the night air. Muted sounds dragged me farther from the void of dark silence where I’d been dumped at the moment my eyes had closed.

  Despite the pain in my body, despite the confusion that saddled me, I fought against sleep’s hold, those muted sounds becoming words that made no sense when I listened to them closely.

  Dad…

  …the fuck up…