by Sheena Kamal
“You’ll be okay. Where’s Bonnie?”
“I don’t know!”
“Has she tried to call you lately?”
He stares at the blood on the ground and a low moan builds at the back of his throat. “Christ! No, okay? Give me back my gun.”
I step out of his reach. “Guns are not for children. Do you know where she is?”
“I’m not a kid,” he says, his eyes starting to tear up. “You have to take me to the doctor.”
“Where’s Bonnie?” I repeat. I lower the pistol, though, and hold it just at my side. “I’ll help you, but you have to help me first.”
“Fine, okay, whatever. She’s—” He pauses and glances behind him. At first I think he’s stalling, then the sound becomes apparent to me, too. Footsteps on packed snow.
We’re not alone.
I move to Tommy’s side and haul him closer.
He flinches. “Give me back my—”
“Is anyone meeting you here?” I hiss into his ear.
Smart boy that he is, he picks up right away. “No. But lots of people come here, just not usually when it’s so cold out. Sometimes dog walkers in the morning.”
But it’s afternoon now. I lead him deeper into the woods, away from the footsteps. He notices my steady grip on the gun and frowns. “Do you even know how to use that?”
Of course I do, but I don’t tell him that. I put my finger to my lips. I have the irrational thought that perhaps we’ve woken a bear, but that’s silly. They’re hibernating. If four-legged, it’s probably a wolf. And if it’s a hungry wolf, lean from slim winter pickings, we’re in a bad place. Isolated, and with only one gun between us.
The average North American gray wolf runs between 31 and 37 miles per hour. The fastest human alive, the current Olympic record holder for speed, runs at just under 28. An out-of-shape woman on the cusp of middle age and a teenage boy with more bravado than sense couldn’t even come close to 28, especially not here in the snow, running through a forest. For me to shoot at a wolf in motion, at the speed it would attack, I have to know the direction it would be coming from. If it’s a pack, then we’re really screwed. After a few moments, I don’t hear anything else, but I feel something or someone out there. Human or animal, I still can’t tell.
I lower my voice to a whisper. “You said there are other assholes following you?”
He nods. “Saw them outside of school and then at my mom’s place. But they’ve just been watching. I thought Mom’s dumbass boyfriend did something stupid. He was in a motorcycle gang awhile back.”
“Whoever it is, looks like they’re doing more than watching now.”
Tommy touches my arm and points to a small parting in the woods. A narrow pathway, leading through a dense copse of trees. “Different trail. Back to the road.”
As we head toward the path between the trees, I spare a glance behind me and see a red beam cut through the snow. It arrives at a tree branch just over my head as I step into the sights of a rifle. When I duck, I feel a blast of air just past my ear and a spray of bark erupts outward.
“Holy shit!” Tommy cries, stopping to look at the smoking perforation in the tree, but then I’m pulling him deeper into the woods. “Who are those guys? Hunters or something?”
Something tells me that these are not your average hunters looking for some venison for dinner. It’s the same something that tells me that I look nothing like a deer and neither does Tommy, for that matter. I push Tommy ahead of me and we run through the woods, not caring anymore about the noise or stopping to check who’s after us. The pathway opens up, but Tommy heads to an even narrower trail that is more densely covered by tree trunks. In the summer, when the foliage is in full bloom, it would be difficult to pass here. But now we’re both able to slide through, both being smaller and lighter, presumably, than whoever is hunting us.
I have to give the kid some credit. His cardio is exceptional. He’s barely even breathing hard while I feel as though an asthma attack is imminent, even with all the adrenaline in my veins. The winter air is so crisp up here that it hurts my lungs. If this is what fresh feels like, I think I’ll pass.
Tommy stops suddenly at a thick stand of ice-covered brambles that towers over the both of us. I look up at the tangled branches and hope that he doesn’t mean to go over, then he gets on his knees and starts to dig under the brambles. The snow, hard packed, is difficult to pull apart and we’re losing precious time. “The road is right behind here,” he mutters. “Come on . . .”
I kneel next to him and we are both digging frantically, hearing crunching snow somewhere behind us, getting closer . . . until finally the snow gives and a tiny tunnel leads us through to the other side, Tommy first and me behind. I hear a bullet whiz nearby and know that they’re close. I push Tommy the rest of the way through and then scramble to my feet. My ankle, the one that I sprained jumping off the balcony at the library, crumples underneath me, but I manage to get back on my feet. I don’t feel the cold anymore, but I know I will soon and I try to put some distance between me and the people shooting at us before that happens. David’s car is parked just a few yards ahead, far closer than Tommy’s pickup, with a black SUV pulled over in between. From this direction I can’t see if there is anyone in it, so I raise the pistol and shoot the back tire, the one closest to me, out. Another bullet gone, but it can’t be helped.
“Get in!” I shout to Tommy, who is looking at me like I’ve suddenly grown a pair of wings and am about to take flight. If only I could. I jump in David’s SUV and Tommy doesn’t waste any more time. He slides into the seat next to me. Two bullets hit the back of the car as we drive off.
4
It’s not until we’re on the highway, scenery flying by in a blur of snow and trees, that Tommy is recovered enough from our near-death experience to speak again. “Who the hell are you?”
“I told you, I’m—”
“Bonnie’s mom is a redhead. I saw her once when she dropped her off at Metrotown.” He stares at me for a moment. “You’re . . . you’re her birth mom, right?”
“Yes.” It’s snowing again, and I’m going as fast as I can because there’s nothing more upsetting than being shot at. First in warning by Tommy and then by the men in the woods. But the highway here is treacherous, and becoming more difficult to navigate by the minute, even with a four-wheel drive.
“Where did you learn to shoot like that?”
“That doesn’t matter—”
“Yeah, it kind of does,” he says, his eyes bright. “You shot that tire out from almost forty feet away without even stopping to aim—”
“I aimed.”
“You’re . . . you’re like a pro.”
Where I come from, this means something completely different. “We can talk about that later. But for now I’m looking for Bonnie. Did she come to see you?”
He’s silent for a moment. “Is that why those other guys were watching me, too? What did she do? Because I know her and she wouldn’t get into trouble this bad on her own. Her friend Mandy probably messed up somehow.”
I glance over at him. He’s shivering, coming down from the adrenaline rush, feeling the cold in his hands and feet. “I’m pretty sure it’s not about Mandy and I don’t know what it has to do with Bonnie yet. Maybe nothing. Far as I know, she just ran away. I don’t know why those guys are looking for her.”
“But she’s in trouble.”
“I think so.” Then I hesitate. I don’t want to scare him, but if anyone is good at picking out when adults are lying, it’s kids. Before life scrubs away their natural instincts for it. “Do you know why she ran away?” I check the rearview mirror. No black SUV, not yet. If I’d been in less of a hurry, I would have shot the other tire out as well. But now I’m thinking they must have had a spare. How long would it take for them to change a tire?
“Yeah, she was having a hard time with her moms and pops. Found out her mom was cheating, and her pops was too stupid to even notice or do anything about it. Her d
ad was always gone on business. It was messed up in that house, man. Those two hated each other. Bonnie thought her mom even started to hate her, too. Her other mom, you know.”
The highway narrows to one lane for a winding stretch and the car in front of us is crawling along. I try to keep my voice steady, try to stay calm, but anxiety still spreads. We’ve lost time going this slow because of the weather and now I’m stuck behind grandpa. Figures. “Did she come here to meet you?”
“She was supposed to, maybe a couple weeks ago, but she never showed up. Figured she just bailed on me. It was weird, though, because she said she had some news and I thought she was . . .”
“Pregnant.”
He blushes. “Yeah, I guess. But we always used . . . you know, when we . . .”
“I get it.”
“I figured it was a false alarm when she didn’t show up and she was embarrassed or something.”
“So you haven’t heard from her?”
“Nah. Mandy texted me a bunch saying she was missing and her folks were freaked out, but I figured that’s just Mandy being a drama queen. She’d do anything for attention. But this don’t make any sense. Why did those guys shoot at us?”
The road opens up again to two lanes and I accelerate as fast as I dare. It’s below freezing out so the snow is sticking to the asphalt, turning it hard and slippery. “I don’t know, but you’d better keep a low profile from now on, Tommy.” I glance over at him and he meets my eyes briefly. “You understand what I’m saying?”
He nods. “Stay away. You don’t have to tell me twice, lady. Started keeping my mom’s boyfriend’s gun on me when I noticed those guys watching me, but I don’t really know how to use it like you, anyway. Maybe you could teach me?”
He continues on about this for a while, but I hardly hear the words. This time I don’t have to play I Spy to know that someone is on my tail. The black SUV is careful to keep three cars behind at all times. Even with the bad roads and being stuck behind slow cars, it’s still too soon for them to have changed the tire, unless they’re Formula 1–level mechanics in addition to being guns for hire.
I was afraid of this.
The SUV doesn’t make much effort to disguise its presence, leaving me to presume that fear is their goal. They want me to make a mistake of some sort, to panic, to let my imagination run wild. We pass the next exit and the two cars ahead of the SUV take the off-ramp. We’re now the only cars on the road.
“Is that them?” Tommy’s panicked voice brings me back. “I thought you shot their tire out!”
“They’re called run-flat tires,” I tell him. “They come in armored cars and some high-end vehicle brands.”
“Holy shit!”
“Listen to me very carefully. We don’t have much time. When I say so, I’m going to slow down and I want you to jump out, okay?”
He stares at me, wide-eyed. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
“Listen! There are no exits coming up and it’s about to get winding. I can only go so fast. They will catch up and you can’t be with me when they do. They’ve already shot at both of us. Do exactly what I say and you’ll live. Do you understand?”
He shakes his head, but I know that he does. “When I slow down, open the door, jump, tuck, and roll. Stay tucked and out of the way until you hear them pass you and then run like hell in the opposite direction.”
“Back to town?”
“Wherever. Take the battery out of your phone as soon as you get moving. Borrow someone else’s phone, or steal one, I don’t care. Don’t call your mom; call her boyfriend to pick you up and then get the hell out of town. You said he has connections, right?” Tommy nods. “Good. You need to use them. Stay away for a couple of months.” I don’t know how much surveillance they have on Tommy Jones, but I’m starting to suspect the worst.
“But school—”
I laugh. “You don’t really care about school, do you?”
His eyes are wide and frightened. “I don’t understand what’s going on—”
“Someone is looking for Bonnie and they’re not satisfied with just watching anymore. That’s all you need to know.”
“But . . . Is she alive?”
“I don’t know. But I’m gonna find her either way, okay?” The promise surprises me. In a way, it has always been leading to this. The inevitable. This is what Everett Walsh had wanted from the start, had hoped for when he placed the call that morning.
A mountain rises up in front of us and the road gradually elevates. I speed up and take the first curve swiftly. David’s car goes careening around the bend. The SUV disappears from my rearview mirror. The second curve, I slow down as much as I dare. “Now,” I say to Tommy and give him a little shove with my right hand.
As soon as his body hits the snow behind me, I spare him one glance in my rearview mirror to make sure that he rolls out of the way, and then I speed up. The door that Tommy jumped out of hangs open, buffeted by the wind, then a sudden gust blows it shut. It’s not closed all the way, the open-door light still blinks at me from the dash, but it’s enough to avert suspicion from the car tailing me.
I drive for a minute, suddenly tense, staring into the rearview mirror and then relax when I see the SUV behind me. Good. It means Tommy has a chance now. What follows is not so much a high-speed chase as it is a trip through the mountains, slowing at bends in the road and speeding up for the short, straight stretches. They are relentless in their pursuit. Ahead of me is the longest straight stretch that we have had yet and the SUV speeds up. I see a glint of metal in my rearview mirror and then David’s car swerves suddenly. They’ve shot out one of the rear tires. I grapple with the wheel, trying to hold the vehicle in place, but the speed is too fast and the car bucks in protest. They use the distraction to gain several car lengths on me and now they are almost on my bumper. The road here is dangerously narrow, with a single lane for cars traveling in each direction.
The road curves up ahead and they have mere seconds to catch me before I disappear again. Another gunshot rings out and the other tire blows. The SUV, difficult to control with one tire gone, is damn near impossible with two. Whoever is in charge of the gun right now is doing a hell of a better job than the guy after us in the woods. The smart thing to do would be to stop right here, raise the white flag, and let these armed thugs, who seem to have gone guerrilla, do with me as they may. But I’ve never been a white flag kind of girl. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever owned a single piece of white fabric in my life. And, besides, you don’t shoot out the tires of a vehicle in this kind of terrain in order to just question somebody. Not me, not Tommy. They’re tying up loose ends. Here on these roads, with winter ice and gusts of wind so strong that they can rattle vehicles twice the size of David’s SUV right off the road, they’re not interested in talking anymore. The moment for raising a white flag has passed. What I do instead is speed toward the bend in the road coming up, slow down just as I take the curve, and follow the exact instructions that I gave to Tommy.
A blast of icy air slaps me in the face as I jump out and then the air is replaced by a mouthful of snow. A searing pain jolts up my already aching legs, legs that have taken the brunt of a fall not even a week ago. There’s a loud, sharp noise as David’s brand-new SUV goes over the road barrier and plummets to the valley below. I lose my grip on Tommy’s gun, which goes skating after the car. And finally a distant crash.
I’m just in front of a ridge of snow between the road and the protective railing, so I crawl as far out of sight as I can and then burrow into a snowbank. Just seconds later, the SUV screeches to a halt and the doors open. I huddle there, freezing and silent, and force my ragged breathing to even out. Heavily booted feet take off to the edge of the barrier where the car has gone hurtling over.
“Fuck!” a man exclaims. “Crazy bitch. That was her in the woods with the kid, right? The one that broke into our office? You sure of that?”
There’s a pause and then the voice that haunts my dreams break
s the silence. “I’m sure,” he says evenly. Like he’s in no hurry at all. Like women and children go careening over the side of the road every day and Tommy and I are just today’s casualties. “Let’s go.”
“Don’t you want to see if she’s dead . . . and the kid, too?”
“No. We can’t be seen here. We’ll stay close by and wait for news.”
They get back into the car. I stay put until the sound of their engine recedes before climbing to my feet and staggering onto the highway. There are no cars for miles around and I am so cold that I have to will my tongue to the back of my mouth so my chattering teeth won’t pierce it. Then I start walking.
5
After the attempt on my life, my mind refuses to rest. What about my investigation of a missing girl is worth killing over? Drugs, sex, and alcohol is the path that Bonnie went down. She ran away to be with her boyfriend, not to escape private security operatives that act more like thugs or mercenaries than anything else. The more I know, the bigger the picture becomes, and it makes me nervous because if there is one thing that is becoming clear to me, it is that she is in danger. And that it matters to me.
I wait for several hours just outside Kelowna, until the authorities have picked through the debris of the crash. They’ll know by now that I’m not in a bloody heap at the bottom of the ravine. My first call is to Seb. I suspect that they, whoever they are, are most likely monitoring the office line, so I tell him that I’m calling from a hospital, I can’t tell him where, but I’m hurt. I won’t make my week deadline. When Seb collects himself enough to shout some profanities in my ear before pleading with me to know where I am, that he’ll come get me, I just say west and hang up. Then I take the battery out of my phone.
With any luck, they’ll come looking for me. The more time they waste on me, the better the odds are for Bonnie.