Blackened

by Tim McWhorter

  “He has my number. Why didn’t he just tell me that himself?”

  “He said the threat would mean more coming from me.”

  And he was right.

  Neither of us said anything for awhile. I was too busy running scenarios in my mind, playing out the many ways I would kill that son of a bitch. Every one of them would have been satisfying, any one of them would do.

  How the hell Barnes got her phone number alluded me at first. Then it hit me like a shovel to the face. The break-in at Tipsword’s. The way the office had been tossed, the police officer even said that it appeared as if somebody had been looking for something. Well, apparently, they had found it.

  My application for employment. I’d listed Claire as a reference, and more than likely, put down her contact information as well. Was there anything else on the application, or just her cell phone number? I couldn’t remember. Please, God, let it just have been her phone number.

  When I started to regain control of my emotions, my first order of business was to assure Claire that she was safe.

  “Baby,” I said, my voice as calm as I could convincingly make it, “you’re safe. He may have gotten your phone number, but he doesn’t know where you live. He’s just trying to scare us.”

  “Luke,” she said, her voice now barely above a whisper. “He confirmed my address. He knows where I live.”

  The silence on my end stemmed from two things. The first was the fact that I couldn’t believe how piss poor this night was going, and the second was that it appeared to be far from over.

  I started to pace the length of the truck, my eyes darting all around.

  “Okay then, you need to leave,” I told her. “Wake your parents, and all of you get the hell out of there.”

  “One step ahead of ya,” she said, her voice sounding slightly winded. “We’re walking out to the car now. They’re confused and asking a million questions, but at least they’re taking the threat seriously.”

  I felt a sense of relief flutter through me, albeit a small one. But like everything else that had gone right that evening, it didn’t last long.

  “Luke, I still haven’t heard from Mackenzie.”

  Claire’s words cut through me like a chainsaw, leaving a hollow space in my chest.

  “It’s not like her,” she continued. “We have a very strict agreement when one of us is out. We keep in touch at all times.”

  My eyes drifted back toward the motel room where the lifeless body of Claire’s friend still remained. Given the circumstances with Wade, I’d had no choice but to leave Mackenzie hanging there, suspended in time.

  I didn’t know what to say to Claire. What could I? This wasn’t how she should find out why her friend wasn’t keeping in touch. I found myself at a loss for any words that would be either appropriate or comforting. Ultimately, I didn’t say anything.

  After another moment of silence, it was Claire who spoke.

  “Don’t do it,” she said, picking up the previous conversation. “Don’t go out there, Luke. Call the police and let them go instead. Maybe they’ll catch him this time.”

  The hope in her voice was encouraging, and for a split second, I considered doing just that. Let the police handle it. Maybe they would capture him successfully this time, and his ass would either rot in prison for the rest of his life, or that life would end with IV tubes flooding his veins with poison. But maybe they wouldn’t catch him, and I would continue to look over my shoulder for the rest of mine.

  I realized there was only one way all of this would ever truly be over. And only one way everyone I knew and loved would ever truly be safe.

  “I love you,” I said, and closing my eyes, ended the call. I didn’t have the willpower to listen to the sound of Claire’s heart when it broke.

  With a deep breath and subsequent exhale, I put the phone on silent mode and slipped it into my pocket. Only then did I take a look at the damage done to my truck. It wasn’t good. The driver’s side wheel was vertical, but at a forty-five degree angle. From my limited mechanical experience, I assumed either the ball joint or the axel was busted. Either way, the old Chevy wouldn’t be making the trip out to the burnt out church. For now, its fight was over. I almost thanked it for sacrificing itself, but that felt a little too dramatic. But I knew Garrett would be proud to have donated it to the cause.

  Staring at the damage, my mind raced in a million directions. I was letting precious seconds get away from me. Seconds I was fairly sure I might need later.

  Finally, when I was done cursing my luck, my mind brought forth an idea. I could hear the faint sound of sirens off in the distance. But my idea didn’t require me sticking around for them.

  Surprisingly, when I got back to Wade, he was still conscious. He even managed a weak smile when he saw me.

  “Sounds like the cavalry’s coming,” I said, kneeling down beside him. “But I can’t stick around.”

  “I know,” he said, his voice a struggle. “I overheard.”

  I patted him on his good shoulder and told him to hang in there, that I would come check in on him at the hospital when this was all over.

  “Do you want me to send the police your way?” he asked.

  I thought about it for a moment, remembering both the message left for me on the bathroom wall, and the man responsible for leaving it.

  “That might not be a bad idea.”

  Chapter 59

  The keys were on a hook behind the storage room door, right where Dallas always kept them. Under different circumstances, I would have felt guilty about what I was doing. But frankly, I didn’t have time for guilt right now. Not with so many lives hanging in the balance.

  Thanks to the half-mile jog from the motel, my breath was still coming in short bursts as I pulled Dallas’ prized Chevy C10 onto the road and pointed it in the direction of Corwin Barnes.

  Chapter 60

  I risked getting pulled over, and worse than earning myself a speeding ticket, I would have had a difficult time explaining the blood that covered me from head to toe. Still, I got to within a mile of the church in less time than it takes my parents to decide what movie to watch on a typical Saturday night.

  I’d spent the majority of the drive trying to erase the motel images from my mind. The rest of the time, I worried about Claire. The direct threat from Barnes rattled me the most. I couldn’t bear the thought of something happening to her because of me. That would be some traumatic stress that I would never come back from. The only thing that brought me peace was the fact that if Barnes was indeed there to meet me, and I had no reason to believe he wasn’t, then he was far away from Claire.

  The sunrise lingered about an hour away, and the world was cloaked in darkness. But that was fine with me. Like a predator that hunts at night, I wanted to be able to move without being seen. I killed the headlights as soon as I turned off the road and onto the gravel drive that would eventually lead me to where the church once stood.

  I debated over how far I should take the truck. On one hand, it might be better if I walked the rest of the way so that the C10’s Flowmaster exhaust system wouldn’t announce my arrival. Even at idle, Dallas’ truck had a low rumble to it. But on the other hand, I didn’t like the idea of being out here on my own without the safety of the truck nearby. If I needed someplace to escape to, or even a quick way out of there, the truck needed to be reachable.

  Halfway. That would be a good compromise, I determined. It would save me a hell of a lot of walking, yet as long as the driveway was, it would still afford me the opportunity to arrive relatively unannounced. Now, if I could only remember how far halfway was.

  I wouldn’t say my heart was racing just yet, but it was definitely beating a step faster than normal. But then, what was normal for me lately? The adrenaline I thrived on back at the motel had dissipated during the drive, but I was certain it was only replenishing itself. My hands were growing sweaty as they gripped the steering wheel, and I took turns wiping each of them on my jeans. I conce
ntrated on my breathing. Some nerves and adrenaline would benefit me for what was to come, but too much of it could be bad. I needed to think straight.

  I steered the truck along the winding drive, creeping past shadow after shadow of clumped trees and bushes outlining the path. The entire world was shrouded in darkness, but objects were still detectible, if only because their presence was even darker than their surroundings. It was with their help that I was able to leave the headlights off and still keep the truck on the narrow strip of gravel. I rolled the window down and breathed in the late spring air. The speedometer barely registered my speed.

  It was about the time I started thinking I was nearing the halfway point when I felt the rear of the truck wobble just a little. My immediate thought was that one of the tires had found a shallow pothole. But a pothole wouldn’t explain the soft shuffling sound coming from the truck bed.

  Chapter 61

  The truck’s rear window shattered inward, spraying a million shards of glass all over me. I looked up into the rearview mirror as I ducked away. It was Corwin Barnes’ snarl that greeted me, and a crazed look in his eyes. It was a look full of determination, but with a considerable amount of pleasure added in. An arm, thick and hard, came through the gaping hole, its hand reaching out for me.

  Whether it was instinct kicking in or just dumb luck, my foot found the brake pedal, and I stomped on it hard. Because I wasn’t going more than a couple of miles an hour, the truck didn’t come to a stop with much of a jolt, but it was enough to cost Barnes his balance and make him fall forward.

  Barnes’ body pressed up against the back of the cab, bringing his wildly grasping hand ever closer. Still holding onto the steering wheel, I crouched further against the door. A grunt escaped Barnes’ throat. I watched in horror as the gun that had been sitting on the seat beside me slid slowly forward and dropped onto the floorboard a second before I could grab it.

  Before my brain even had a chance to instruct it, my foot left the brake and jumped all over the gas pedal. The truck’s engine roared to life. The chassis buckled for a second, then rocketed the truck forward, throwing me back against the seat and sending Barnes tumbling ass over elbows.

  Shadows of trees rushed passed as I fought to keep the speeding truck in the narrow space between them. With one hand on the steering wheel, I reached down with my other and fumbled for the switch that would bring the headlights back on. No reason to worry about being detected now. The element of surprise was no longer an option.

  The lights came on just in time. I was able to jerk the truck back onto the gravel a split second before the front end clipped one of the large trees that provided the overhead canopy. It had been a close call, with only inches to spare, but I missed it and that’s all that mattered. With the tires safely back on the gravel and a clear view ahead of me, I risked another glance in the rearview mirror. What I saw did nothing to settle my convulsing nerves.

  Despite the truck hurtling through the night at a dangerous forty miles an hour, Barnes was somehow still in the bed, scrambling forward on his hands and knees. He was already halfway back to the cab. His strength and determination instilled fear, and at this rate, I would once again be within arm’s length in a matter of seconds. My mind worked feverishly to come up with another plan.

  As I steered the bulky truck around a slight curve in the drive, the tires slid to the right and threw gravel up against the undercarriage. Once I had the truck back under control, I gauged Barnes’ progress with another glance in the rearview. There to meet me was the disturbing ruin of his smiling face. Thankfully, I’d seen this view before, so I already had a plan. I would simply go through the entire process all over again. Hit the brake, throw Barnes forward. Hit the gas, throw him back until I could think of something better.

  The church’s parking lot couldn’t be much farther. Once I had some open space around, I could possibly get out of the truck, grab the gun and properly defend myself. No more running. No more dodging. I just had to hold him off until then. Trees continued to disappear at a blinding pace.

  My throat suddenly constricted and I found it difficult to breathe. Barnes’ arm was wrapped firmly around my neck, squeezing, cutting off my airflow. When my brain realized what was happening, I fought back the overwhelming urge to panic.

  “What now, Hero?” Barnes shouted. The harried words came from directly behind my right ear, making them perfectly clear over the roar of the C10’s engine and the wind rushing through the open window. “Looks like wherever I go, you go.”

  Just ahead, the trees opened up to the lot and even though I couldn’t breathe, my mind, thankfully, was still able to function. What it told me was that slamming on the brakes wouldn’t work this time. Barnes' grip was too tight around my throat, and most of the stopping force would be absorbed as the tires slid through the gravel. Still, it looked to be the only option I had. Without putting distance between me and Barnes, I wouldn’t be able to reach the gun lying on the floorboard. Not to mention the fact that I was starting to fail miserably in my attempts at not panicking.

  I tried to breathe through my nose, but for some reason, that only sharpened the pain shooting through my throat. Full on panic mode was coming on quickly.

  If I didn’t think of something fast, it would all be over.

  We burst through the end of the canopied driveway and into the clearing of the parking lot and my bulging eyes caught sight of something in the headlights that offered an opportunity. It wasn’t a good plan, but it was a plan nonetheless.

  My savior waited directly ahead of us, and it was a damn good thing I was wearing my seat belt. It was the old style, where the belt only went across your lap, but it was better than nothing.

  “Sorry, Dallas,” I whispered, and gunned the engine.

  Chapter 62

  The wide concrete steps of the church were all that remained of the burnt out house of worship. It was either desperation or the lack of oxygen to my brain that kept me from thinking clearly, because this really was a bad plan. In fact, it went against everything my instincts prescribed. Still, I fought the urge to slow down and instead, pressed the gas pedal even further toward the floor.

  With Barnes’ arm tightening further around my throat, I angled the steering wheel just slightly to the left, keeping the large concrete slab directly in our path. Disastrous results lay fifty feet ahead, but what else could I do at that point?

  Thirty feet.

  The impact should create enough force to throw Barnes into the cab of the truck, if not all the way through the windshield. At least that’s what I hoped as we bore down on the concrete steps.

  Fifteen feet.

  As the point of no return came and went, it took all my strength and every ounce of foolish courage I could gather not to take my foot off the gas.

  Barnes cried out in fear as he realized too late what was about to take place. His arm released its grip, and I gulped the first full lungful of air in what seemed like an awfully long time. As the corner of the steps disappeared below the truck’s front end, I braced for inevitable impact.

  Not that it mattered.

  Both tires ruptured on contact and were immediately followed by the concussion of metal crumpling in on itself. What remained of the rear window exploded as Corwin Barnes’ torso came crashing through what was left of the glass. The sudden jolt rattled every bone in my body. The lap belt held, but it threatened to fold me in half. My knees rammed the steering column, breaking off a piece of plastic in the process, and my outstretched arms bent inward against their will. The horn burped as my chest took the full brunt of the steering wheel slamming into it. Pain shot through my entire being as I once again found myself gasping for air.

  Before things could get any better, however, they got a whole lot worse.

  In the midst of the sonic chaos, I sensed something else happening, something completely wrong and out of my control. And it was happening fast.

  The bed of the truck rose up, lifting off the ground too qu
ickly for its own good. Everything around me took on a look of confused surrealism as the view changed from what it should have been, to something I’d only seen while on an inverted roller coaster. What had been below was now above.

  Initially, the plan had worked. We’d impacted the steps with enough force to dislodge Barnes and send him crashing forward. But I’d underestimated all the ramifications of the collision. The truck was now somersaulting through the air. The gaping black hole that used to be the church stared up at me for a moment, then disappeared. The seat belt compressed against my hips, restricting any movement, as I found myself rotating upside down. As best I could, I braced for the second impact that was approaching at a breakneck pace.

  Chapter 63

  They say that when you dream, there is no color, only black, white and all of the shades of grey in between. Well, right then, my world was pitch black, and I found myself wishing for at least some white or grey. Even when I knew I’d finally pried my eyes open, I couldn’t see anything in front of my face.

  My body hurt in places I didn’t know it could. But I was alive. At least I thought I was. Even as the cobwebs started to clear, a trace amount of doubt still lingered. It took the smell of charred wood and the metallic taste of blood in my mouth to assure me that I had, indeed, survived the crash. But my ordeal was far from over.

  I could tell from the sensation of blood rushing to my head that I was hanging upside down. After catapulting, the truck had landed on its roof in the basement of the church, crumpling the cab inward by a decent amount. Things hadn’t gone as planned, and the jury was still out as to whether I’d achieved my objective anyway.

  As I shifted just slightly, a million pebbles of broken glass rained down from my chest and disappeared somewhere into the abyss below. The lap belt cinched even tighter, cutting further into my hips. My right arm felt like it was pinned against something, but my left arm was free. I reached across and started feeling for the latch that would release the restraint.