Daddy's Little Girl

by William Malmborg

  “In the middle of the field between 7 and Harris, with Old Grove to the north and the Sanders farm to the south.” She found the tracks. They were headed northeast, toward the cemetery. “We need eyes on these roads now. Crossroad checkpoints are no good if they emerge from the middle of a field.”

  “We’re getting people there as fast as we can,” Gary said.

  It’s not fast enough! she shouted to herself. Aloud, “I know. What’s the ETA on the paramedics for Abigail and Lindsey?”

  “Ten minutes.”

  Shit! “Okay.” Nothing she could say or do would make them get there any sooner. “I’ll let you know when I have them.”

  “Katie,” Gary said. “Be careful. This girl is…” He simply let his voice fade.

  Katie didn’t reply, her hand hooking the radio back onto her chest so that she could hold her flashlight in one hand and her pistol in another.

  Ramsey was scared shitless, the barrel opening that was pressed into his back feeling as if it were as wide as a cannon and ready to blow his insides all over the place.

  Making things worse, police were descending upon the area from all directions, their lights and sirens everywhere. Normally that would be a good thing, but when a gun was pressed into one’s back, perspectives changed. If the police blocked them in, what would stop the girl from shooting him? She would likely get shot in return, but in her mind that might be better than any of the other options.

  And then there was Tess.

  She was out there somewhere, and while he hoped she was simply running as fast as she could toward one of the sets of flashing lights, he was pretty sure she was doing just the opposite.

  He was fucked.

  Either the police would get him killed, or his little sister would.

  It was as simple as that.

  Bitsy was worried. And in pain. But it was the worry that dominated her thoughts, all because she could tell that Misty was scared and didn’t know what to do. How she knew this, she didn’t know, but know it she did and because of that, she too was scared.

  But maybe everything would end up okay.

  The storm chaser guy could drive, so that was good, and once they were in his car, they could leave.

  But where?

  Could Misty really find them a new place to live?

  The Daddy-man could. He was an adult and knew how to do things like that. Misty didn’t. She wasn’t an adult. And neither was Bitsy. She was just a doll, one that had boy parts.

  But maybe the storm chaser would know how to find a house for them.

  It seemed like he was an adult.

  Not as old of an adult as the Daddy-man was, but still an adult, which meant he probably knew how to do many things that they didn’t.

  “No, no,” Misty said.

  Bitsy turned and followed Misty’s gaze to the left.

  A new police car had appeared on the horizon, one that was nearing the graveyard.

  Would it pass it and join the other that had parked itself off to the right, or turn into the tiny lot?

  It turned into the tiny lot, passing beneath the stone entrance that Bitsy had passed through earlier in the day.

  “Where’s your car?” Misty demanded.

  “It’s—it’s—”

  “Where?”

  A spotlight came on before he could answer, one that speared the red car with its brightness.

  “Is that it?” Misty asked, voice sounding off.

  “Y-y-yes,” he said.

  The spotlight shifted, the beam now coming their way.

  “Down!” Misty snapped.

  They all went down, the beam passing over them.

  “Misty?” Bitsy asked. “What’re we going to do?”

  Misty didn’t answer.

  The police car that had appeared up ahead changed things. For better or worse, Tess didn’t know, but one thing was now clear: if that police car stayed where it was, Ramsey would not be driving the two away in his battered Kia, which meant he might now be considered useless.

  Tess had to do something.

  But what?

  No answer appeared.

  It all depended on what the girl did.

  If she simply shot him and ran, there would be nothing Tess could do, not at ten feet, not at five feet. Nothing. Not with the gun pressed into his back.

  But if she tried to get away on foot, sneaking away from the police in the darkness, Tess could keep following.

  It would likely be one thing or the other.

  Wrong.

  “Bitsy!” Misty hissed as Bitsy stood up. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m going to distract them for you.”

  “What? No.”

  “It’s the only way. They will take me into the police car and leave, and then you can get away in his.”

  “No.”

  “Yes. I have to.”

  “Please. Don’t leave me again.”

  Bitsy stopped, crouching back down, and looked at her.

  “I need you,” Misty added.

  “What?” Bitsy asked.

  “You’re all I have left.” Tears appeared. “Please!”

  “You really still want me?” Bitsy asked.

  “Of course I do,” Misty said. She wiped away her tears.

  “Even after I acted like a boy?”

  “That wasn’t your fault,” Misty said. “I made you do it.”

  “I liked it.”

  Misty smiled. “I did too.”

  “But then you got mad at me.”

  “I know. I’m sorry.”

  Bitsy stared at her.

  “That won’t happen again,” Misty said. “I promise.”

  Bitsy smiled and then put her arms around Misty. “I love you.”

  “I love you too.”

  Ramsey felt the gun move away from his back and though he wasn’t positive that it was no longer aiming at him, he decided to take a chance and thrust himself backward against the two, his right foot pushing off against a tombstone.

  A cry of surprise echoed as they all toppled backward.

  A gunshot followed.

  His leg burned.

  A second gunshot echoed, this one bouncing off a tombstone.

  Bitsy screamed.

  The third gunshot went off somewhere into the darkness.

  Katie heard the gunshots and instinctively hunched over while moving along the tombstones, her eyes able to see the flashing lights of a police cruiser near the entrance of the cemetery, its spotlight swinging around to find the gunshots.

  On the radio, a voice called for help.

  It was Officer Nick Harris.

  He urged everyone to come to the cemetery, his lips actually using the word “haste” in his plea.

  Katie lifted the radio to her lips and advised that she was on the south side of the cemetery, making her way toward the gunshots.

  Once that was stated, she turned off the radio so that its cackle would not give her away as she approached.

  Ears ringing and leg burning where it had been hit, Ramsey went for the gun, his hands finding it right away and taking hold, the barrel singeing the fingers of his left hand as they closed upon it, while his right found Misty’s wrist and squeezed.

  Screams echoed.

  Some were his, some were hers, the words “Let go!” clearly audible.

  And then an arm was around his throat, choking him.

  Bitsy!

  She had grabbed him from behind.

  Teeth sank into his jaw.

  Jesus!

  He tried hitting Bitsy with his elbow but couldn’t, her body clinging to him as he swung back and forth, his hands trying to keep a grip on the gun while also dislodging her.

  A knee smashed into his groin.

  All thought but the pain left him, his fingers falling from the gun as he lost his balance.

  Another screamed erupted, this one different than all the rest.

  The spotlight speared them.

  In it, Ramsey saw a figur
e looming over Misty, something in hand over her head, just as Misty brought the gun around toward his face.

  The object came down with a nasty crunch.

  The gun went off.

  He felt the bullet singe his arm and then hit something behind him.

  Bitsy gasped, her arm loosening from his throat, teeth gone.

  Another beam of light appeared, this one from a flashlight.

  It blinded him for a moment and then shifted over to where Misty was kneeling against a tombstone, forehead on it, blood oozing from beneath her hair.

  Tess stepped up behind her, something raised over her head.

  “Tess, no!” Ramsey cried, his voice doing little to penetrate the air.

  Tess didn’t hit her again, her hands lowering the object after a few seconds.

  Ramsey sighed.

  And then froze as he felt the gun barrel pressed into his temple.

  “Bitsy,” Katie said. “It’s all over. Put the gun down.”

  Bitsy did not reply, anxiety and terror dominating her face, her body encircled by light from both the patrol vehicle spotlight and Katie’s flashlight.

  “Please,” Katie continued. “We can help you. And Misty.”

  “You’re lying!” Bitsy spat, voice quivering.

  “No, Bitsy. No one is lying to you. We will help you. We want to help you. But first you need to put the gun down.”

  “You killed Misty!”

  “Bitsy, she’s not dead. But she is hurt and needs help, and we can’t help her until you put that gun down.”

  Bitsy looked around, eyes frantic.

  A second police car arrived at the cemetery, a third nearing, lights flashing, sirens echoing.

  Katie considered her chances of hitting Bitsy if she fired, but then quickly dismissed the option. She was adequate with a pistol, but nowhere near the level of a Hollywood hero who could simply take out a hostage taker in such a situation as if it were second nature. Shit, even if allowed to take several seconds to aim, she might still miss.

  Plus, she didn’t want to kill Bitsy.

  Or Misty.

  The two were victims.

  They might not see themselves that way, but that didn’t change the fact that they were. The only one who she wanted to kill had already been taken out by the storm.

  “Bitsy,” a calm voice said. “Please let him go.”

  Katie did not turn to see the source, but knew it was Tess.

  “No!” Bitsy cried. “You hurt her!”

  “I had to,” Tess said, voice still calm. “She was going to kill my brother.”

  Bitsy’s face scrunched up as she tried to process this.

  She also shifted herself a bit, the spotlight from the patrol vehicle revealing that the left sleeve of her dress was covered in blood.

  “Bitsy, your arm is bleeding,” Katie said.

  “I’m fine,” Bitsy said.

  “It looks bad. And painful. And Misty is hurt too. We need to get you both to the hospital.”

  “Just let us go.”

  “We can’t.”

  “Please! We need to leave.”

  “Where?” Katie asked.

  “We’re going to find a new house.”

  “How? You can’t drive and you have no money to buy one.”

  “The Daddy-man has money. And Misty has gift cards. We can use those.”

  “That Daddy-man is dead,” Katie said. “And Misty won’t be able to use any of his money until things are settled, so you might as well let us help you until then.”

  Bitsy didn’t reply.

  “Bitsy, I know your arm hurts. I have been shot before. We can make it feel better.”

  “I’m fine!” Bitsy spat.

  “I know you’re tough. I’ve seen the pictures of what has been done to you. But if you don’t let us help you, this will only get worse and then you’ll get sick and die. If that happens, Misty will be all alone once she gets better. And she will get better. We can help her.”

  Bitsy’s face changed.

  “But she’ll need your help to do that. Your strength.”

  “You’ll really help her?” Bitsy asked.

  “Yes.”

  “You promise?”

  “Yes.”

  Bitsy thought about this.

  “We’ll help both of you, but first you have to set the gun down.”

  Bitsy didn’t reply, nor did she set the gun down.

  Katie didn’t know how much longer they could keep this up, not with Misty having been struck senseless with a blow to the head and Bitsy bleeding.

  And if she accidentally squeezed the trigger…

  Or purposely.

  “Bitsy,” Katie said. “I’m going to put my gun away, okay.”

  Bitsy didn’t reply.

  Katie put her gun in her holster.

  “Now I’m going to step forward and you’re going to hand me that gun.”

  “No.”

  “Yes.”

  “No.”

  “Yes.” She stepped forward. First just one step and then another and another.

  Bitsy backed up, but only by one step.

  “Bitsy, please, it’s getting late. The Daddy-man is dead, Misty is hurt, and you’re bleeding. It’s time we put everything away.”

  No response.

  “If you don’t, Misty will die.”

  Bitsy shifted her gaze toward where Misty was prone on the ground.

  “Earlier you wanted us to help her, and now that we want to help, you’re not letting us. If she dies, it will be your fault.”

  Tears started to well in Bitsy’s eyes.

  “Please. Let us help her.” Katie took another step. “Let us help you.” Another step. “And then once you’re both better, you can be together again.” Her final step. “All you have to do is hand me that gun.” She held out her hand.

  Bitsy shifted her eyes from Katie’s to the open palm.

  Ramsey, obviously terrified, stared at it as well, the smell of piss from his wetting himself strong.

  “Give me the gun,” Katie repeated.

  Bitsy hesitated for another second and then said, “You promise to help her?”

  “I promise.”

  Bitsy handed her the gun.

  Katie vomited all over a tombstone, the furious screams as Bitsy was put into a police car echoing within her mind as she leaned over it.

  Bitsy thought Katie had lied to her, likely because she was being taken to the hospital in the back of a patrol vehicle, while Misty went in one of the ambulances that had finally arrived from Smith’s Grove, strapped to a gurney. Truth was, Bitsy was right. The idea that she and Misty were simply going to be patched up and allowed to live out the rest of their lives together was far-fetched, especially if the DA decided to file charges. And even if the DA didn’t file charges, they most likely wouldn’t find themselves sharing some sort of home and living out their days together. No. Years and years of therapy and time spent in special wards, support groups, and then, depending on their ages and progress, and whether or not family could be found, foster homes. Today had ended one journey and started them on the path of another, one that would be long and trying.

  And the man responsible would never be held responsible.

  She shook her head, a lack of satisfaction present.

  “Sorry about your camera,” Tess said.

  Ramsey looked at her for a moment and let out a small laugh.

  Tess grinned.

  “I forgive you on account of you having saved my life,” he said.

  “Okay, good, so that means you won’t make me pay for it then?”

  “Well, I wouldn’t go that far…”

  His smile faded, his eyes going toward the window of the hospital room.

  “You okay?” she asked, more serious.

  “I don’t know.”

  Tess didn’t reply to that, mostly because she didn’t know how.

  “You talk to Mom?” he asked.

  “Yeah, she’s completely con
fused. I don’t think I was able to articulate the situation very well.”

  Ramsey let out another small laugh, though the smile did not return, his eyes still on the window.

  “She hasn’t woken up yet,” Tess said.

  “Who?” Ramsey asked, turning back toward her.

  “That girl, Misty.”

  “Oh.”

  “At the time I wanted to kill her, so I hit her as hard as I could, but now…” She shook her head, unsure how she felt.

  “Tess, you did what you had to do.”

  Tess scrunched up her face, trying to keep the emotion at bay.

  “You need to understand that,” Ramsey added.

  “I know, I do. But still…”

  Ramsey didn’t say anything else.

  “Pretty fucked up, isn’t it?”

  This time a smile accompanied Ramsey’s chuckle. “Yeah.”

  “You were right,” Lindsey said, an image of Liz’s body on the ground, smoking, refusing to leave her mind. “We should have simply called the police.”

  Gloria didn’t reply to that.

  “All I managed to do was get her killed, that kidnapped schoolgirl shot in the back, and myself shot in the shoulder.”

  Gloria simply nodded.

  “I didn’t even get a shot off.”

  “You did what you thought you had to do,” Gloria said.

  This time it was Lindsey who didn’t respond, mostly because she knew what Gloria said wasn’t true. Several times while driving toward the cemetery and then beyond it, and while crossing the field, she had told herself she was being an idiot, yet for some reason she had persisted.

  “And now there’s nothing you can do to fix it,” Gloria added. She then stood up and left.

  Lindsey didn’t ask where she was going. She knew the visit wasn’t one of offering support and comfort. Gloria had simply wanted to see that she was okay, acknowledge it, give condolences about her father, and leave. Lindsey’s statements on how she knew she had made a mistake wouldn’t change anything. If Liz had still been alive, maybe they would, but with her dead, they wouldn’t.

  Katie’s mother suggested she come home and get some rest, but Katie said she still had work to do. It was the truth, though none of it would get done. Not that night. Not while she sat in the waiting area in the hospital, trying to drum up the courage to try to talk to Bitsy. She wanted to tell her that Misty would be joining her in the room she was in, but she knew Bitsy wouldn’t believe her. It was true though. Misty would be joining her once she could be moved from the ICU, not out of any sort of compassion for the two but simply because they didn’t have many rooms available at the hospital, what with all the injuries from the storm, and even fewer rooms for those who needed to be guarded.