First Night of Summer

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First Night of Summer Page 19

by Landon Parham


  His second marker showed up in perfect sync with the GPS, a boulder that had once broken off the cliff above. He took a deep breath. Sweat beaded on his upper lip and forehead. This is it. I can do it.

  He jammed down on the brake pedal as if his life depended on it. The tires alternated between bursts of skidding and groaning as the antilock brakes fought to harness the momentum. Even through the anticipation, adrenaline flooded his system at the harsh sound and feel of a sudden stop. He went from seventy-five miles per hour to a dead standstill.

  “Holy shit!”

  He wished for a moment to collect himself, but seconds were precious.

  Ricky parked the pickup at a forty-five degree angle to the road and checked the gap between his front bumper and the rock face. In his side mirror, he did the same with the rear bumper and guardrail. Both ends were too narrow for a vehicle to go through. He quickly killed the engine and left the keys in the ignition.

  At the front of the pickup, he popped the hood. He did each task in the order he had mentally rehearsed, precise, efficient, and never frantic. As he put the finishing touches on the scene, the sound of an approaching vehicle echoed off the canyon walls, and anxiety overwhelmed him.

  Deception beckoned his best poker face.

  Chapter Fifty-Four

  Given the current predicament, Isaac was prepared to do something he would never do under normal circumstances, drive by a motorist in need and leave him behind. His main concern was not assisting the unfortunate person, but to get the vehicle out of the way so he could keep traveling.

  “That’s the guy who just passed us,” he said.

  Helen stared out the windshield. “Where’s all that smoke coming from?”

  Waves of billowing, gray smoke poured from under the open hood.

  “Looks like a hose busted.” Isaac unbuckled his seat belt. “We can’t waste time. I’ll help him off the road, and then we’re gone.” His problems can’t be bigger than mine.

  When the man appeared out of the smoke and walked toward them, Isaac’s perception immediately changed.

  “I know that guy.” He put the gearshift in park. “He works at the grocery store.”

  “Oh my!” Helen exclaimed. She covered the lower part of her face with both hands. “That’s … a lot of blood.”

  The sight of blood all over a familiar face softened Isaac’s attitude. To not help this person would be inhumane, regardless of the rush. He jumped out of the cab and placed a gentle hand on the shoulder of the injured man he knew as Derek. “Are you okay?”

  Ricky lifted his head and touched his fingers to his nose. He pulled them back and looked at the fresh coating of blood. “I think I’m fine. I hit my nose on the steering wheel. Damn thing surprised the hell out of me. Kind of shook me up.”

  Isaac scanned about the smoking pickup. “What surprised you?” His hand was still on the man’s shoulder.

  “A deer was right in the middle of the road when I came around the curve. I didn’t have time to stop or …” He waved his hand around at the setting. “Room to swerve.” Ricky leaned over, resting his shaky hands on his knees.

  Isaac noticed. “That’s the adrenaline. Take a few deep breaths. It’ll wear off in a minute.” He pulled a white handkerchief from his hip pocket. “Here.” He handed it over. “You work at the grocery store, right?”

  Ricky nodded and held the cloth to his nose, a look of recognition and gratitude in his eyes.

  “C’mon. Let’s take a look at your truck.”

  Isaac stood in front of the grill and open hood. An image of a warm, Fourth of July night and fireworks filling the sky skipped through his mind. He couldn’t say why, so he pushed the thought aside. Smoke continued to roll out from the engine area. Across the grill and headlights, he found a generous slathering of blood.

  Isaac let out a whistle. “Yeah, you nailed him all right.” He swiveled his head around. “Where’s the deer?”

  Ricky pointed down the hill to the river. “It ran off that way.” He sniffed and wiped his face with his shirt. “Sucker busted my radiator and didn’t even die.”

  Isaac kneeled. He wanted to look under the Chevy. Whatever fluid caused all the smoke would surely have made a puddle on the ground. He placed one hand on the bumper for balance and the other on the asphalt for support. He craned his neck lower to get a good look.

  As soon as Isaac’s eyes were trained down, Ricky stepped closer. He drew a high-voltage stun gun from underneath his shirttail and pressed it firmly into Isaac’s bare lower back. The prongs were centered directly on top of his spine when Ricky pulled the trigger.

  Isaac’s body arched as his muscles succumbed to the current of eight hundred thousand volts. He collapsed to the ground without a word, unable to overpower the onslaught of electricity invading his neuromuscular system. With his location in front of Ricky’s pickup, Helen and Josie couldn’t see.

  Ricky zapped him again, this time at the base of his skull. A slight groan escaped Isaac’s lips while Ricky held the pulse for a full five seconds.

  Isaac wouldn’t get to his feet in the next couple minutes; Ricky was certain. But after that, he couldn’t say with confidence. To further safeguard the bait and switch, he put a heavy-duty zip tie around Isaac’s wrists and cinched it unmercifully tight. Another went around his ankles and held them together. He reared back with his leg and planted the toe of his boot into Isaac’s ribs for good measure. Satisfied that his foe could do nothing to stop him, Ricky readied himself to take out Helen.

  From around the front of the pickup, he limped across the blacktop and went to her window.

  She rolled it down with a look of concern. “Is everything okay? Are you hurt?”

  “I’ll be all right. Hit my nose on the steering wheel. That’s all.” He tapped it twice with his pointer finger. “It’ll be good as new when I get cleaned up.”

  “What happened?”

  “A deer was right in the middle of the road. Dumb thing must have had a death wish.” He flashed his trademark smile, so gentle, handsome, and unsuspicious. Those bedroom blues bored right into Helen.

  “I’m so sorry.” Genuine compassion showed in her words. In no way did she feel in danger.

  He motioned to his pickup. “I need to call a tow truck to get me back to town. I understand you guys are in a bit of a hurry?”

  “Yes. Family emergency.”

  Ricky nodded. “I understand. I won’t keep you, but could I borrow your cell phone?”

  “Of course.” She bent forward and reached into the floorboard for her purse.

  As Helen leaned over, Ricky slipped his arm through the open window. The handheld weapon found a bare patch of skin between her ear and shirt collar. She slumped in response with a jerky spasm. Just like he did Isaac, he nailed her again at the top of her spine. Inserting the charge into the body’s central nervous system via the spinal column gained maximum effect. Five seconds of treatment seemed like an eternity but ensured disability, especially with her smaller stature.

  Ricky’s finger pecked at the unlock button. He swung the door out and reached for her purse in the floorboard. Thin and nimble, his fingers rummaged through the contents until he found her cell phone. He spun around and flung it into the flowing river below. Isaac’s cell rested in the center console’s cup holder. Ricky leaned against Helen’s body. His chest touched her side, and he grasped the phone. A swift toss sent it spiraling into the ravine.

  He stretched across the cab again, and his body pushed Helen’s limp torso to the middle. He twisted the keys out of the ignition and put them in his pocket. The idea of leaving them stranded on a lonely stretch of road with no means of communication or transportation relieved him.

  All the weeks of waiting were over. It was just him and Josie.

  He turned his attention to the backseat. She stared at his familiar face, wide-eyed, and scooted to the far corner. He opened the backdoor and reached out for her leg. Finally, his hungry fingers found her and latched on.<
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  Chapter Fifty-Five

  Isaac remembered kneeling on the pavement to inspect underneath the smoking pickup. Then a sudden blast of power knocked him to the ground. Now, lying on his stomach with chip seal gravel pocking into his shirtless skin, he tried to clear the fuzz from his scrambled head.

  He rolled onto his back to get a better look at the surroundings. Every muscle in his body ached with the motion. But the discomfort was not nearly as sharp as the cutting sensation on his wrists. As he turned over, the weight of his body smashed his bound hands. Wedged between his lower back and the asphalt, the plastic flex cuffs dug into his flesh. He shifted, trying to release the pressure, and found his motor skills as sluggish as a reptile in winter.

  Disorientation morphed into fear. What happened to me?

  He could see his dad’s truck sitting right where he had left it. Rotating his head in the other direction, he saw an open stretch of blacktop. The disabled vehicle was gone, disappeared somewhere beyond the next blind curve. I have to move before I get run over.

  He tried to use his legs and, like his hands, discovered they were tied together. Lying on his side, arms behind his back, he pushed with his feet. A makeshift inchworm motion slowly edged him off the pavement. A portion of his ribcage and most of his upper arm succumbed to the abrasive surface. Tiny beads of blood began to seep from the skin. At the white stripe, he tucked himself into the narrow space against the guardrail. Sun glistened off a fresh layer of sweat from the effort.

  He managed to sit up and look at his feet. The zip tie was thick—the kind police use to arrest people when they run out of proper handcuffs—and allowed no wiggle room. The plastic was too strong to break with brute strength, especially with his current lack of muscular cooperation.

  He racked his brain, searching for a memory of how he ended up this way. An image of warm Fourth of July nights streaked through his head again, the same thought he had right before leaning over to check for a fluid leak. He attempted to shake the thought. Then realization hit.

  “Mom!” Urgency filled his voice. “Mom! Are you there?” A breakdown of the last five minutes began to manifest. The so-called accident between the white pickup and deer was no accident at all. Rather, it was a carefully staged and effective ploy.

  No answer came from his mother.

  He slithered beside the wooden guardrail posts toward the truck. Gravel, debris, and asphalt continued to gnaw at his hands, left arm, and ribcage. Sweat made the rubble stick, and the bloody scrapes developed into road rash.

  “Isaac?” A soft reply finally came.

  “Mom, are you okay?” He squirmed with even more urgency. Too many questions remained unanswered.

  “I think so.” Her voice sounded uncertain.

  “What the hell happened?” A kick of his feet sprayed loose rocks into the air, and they dinged off the galvanized rail. “Where’s the guy?”

  Disoriented, Helen sat up and peered out the windshield. “I don’t know.” She thought hard. Something was definitely off. Her muscles ached like a bad case of influenza. “He wanted to use my phone to call a tow truck.” She tried to sit taller, hearing but not seeing her son.

  Isaac had almost made his way to the passenger side. The backdoor sat ajar. “Josie?” he called out. “Mom, is Josie okay?”

  Helen slowly twisted at the waist to look over her shoulder. “She’s right back—” Her pace quickened in panic. “She’s not here!” A swift click with her thumb unbuckled the seat belt, and she turned completely around. Her knees were in the seat. “She’s gone!”

  Each piece of an intricate puzzle fell into place. The whole picture was there in black and white: Derek the grocery store clerk, the airplanes, the staged wreck, and Josie. Key points added up in an undisputable sequence. They explained everything.

  “Josie, answer me,” Helen commanded.

  “She’s not there.”

  Helen ignored him. “Josephine Snow, you answer me this instant.” The demand sounded fearful, not adamant.

  “He took her.” Isaac was sprawled outside her door now.

  Helen poked her head out the open window and looked down. Isaac lying on the ground didn’t seem to bother her. “I don’t understand,” she went on. “He couldn’t have taken her.” She averted her stare to the backseat as if Josie might reappear.

  Already on borrowed time, he didn’t care to debate the validity of Josie’s kidnapping.

  “Dad keeps a multi-tool in the glove box.” He put ice to his voice. “Get it for me.”

  “But she was right here. All he wanted was my phone.”

  “Mom, the multi-tool. Now! I’m tied up.” He managed to kick the running board with a loud bang to gain her attention.

  While he waited for the cutters, a clear display of events poured through his mind. He saw the eyes that stared at him from across Caroline and Josie’s bedroom on the first night of summer. They were the same piercing blues he had seen at the grocery store. And they were the same eyes that had just played him for a fool.

  A stream of grizzly abduction memories emerged as if he had been there himself. Letters and Polaroids followed, every one addressed to Josie. The graphic pictures were terrible, but nothing compared to the words of handwritten intent. The last one, “I’ll be seeing you. Soon,” rang louder than ever. No matter how much Isaac had hoped and prayed that it would be, the promise was not empty.

  Lastly, the row of vandalized airplanes came to mind. All had been trashed, not just his. The paint on mine was … red. He felt disgusted with himself that he hadn’t noticed the subtle clue, a jab to mock him.

  And only moments ago, he had stood in front of the murderer’s pickup and swallowed his bait. Blood covered the grill and headlights, but now that he recalled, not one dent marred the vehicle, and no blood trail from an injured animal was left behind. He had been so concerned with reaching Sarah that awareness fell by the wayside. Even though he couldn’t place it before, the seemingly random vision of fireworks and Fourth of July festivals finally made sense.

  The Independence Day memories were from childhood. As little boys, he and Charlie lit smoke bombs to play war and pull pranks. The odor was undeniable and, here and now, the smoke had poured from underneath the hood and flawlessly simulated a fluid leak.

  Helen emerged with the multi-tool. She opened the wire cutters and knelt in front of Isaac. Slipping the plastic tie between the jaws, she clamped down.

  He snatched the tool with his newly freed hands and clipped the bindings on his ankles. Helen reached out and helped pull him up by the arms. They both staggered, neither in full command of their muscles, and rushed to their seats. She slammed her door shut while Isaac teetered around the front. Bloody and dirty, he stretched an arm across the hood for support. His body was there, but his head and heart felt hollow.

  Sarah was in the hospital, Caroline was already dead, and Josie drew further and further away by the second. Three girls—his girls—beyond the protection he yearned to give them. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t stop the tide.

  Helen said, “We have to get her back.”

  Without a word, he put his foot on the brake and reached for the ignition. His hand fumbled for the keys. They weren’t there.

  We are truly stranded, and Josie is on her own.

  Chapter Fifty-Six

  It took every ounce of discipline to drive on as Ricky struggled to control himself. Josie slept in a drug-induced state from the chloroform. Helpless, she rested in the front passenger floorboard.

  This was, unequivocally, the most exhilarated he ever remembered feeling. He had to draw it out and savor the ride. Ending the adventure too soon would be a tragic disservice to his efforts. After he finished with her, it could take years to recapture the euphoric bliss.

  Perplexed, he couldn’t put a finger on why Josie demanded so much of him. If the situation called for it, he would pursue her to the ends of the earth. She was more than a minor obsession. Maybe because he had to go without her
for so long. Originally, it had been because she and Caroline were identical twins. He had never had twins before. The fantastical idea excited him. Now it was just Josie. And somehow, he relished the notion of her, even more so than when there were two of them. She called to him in a way he didn’t fully understand.

  Despite his rushed escape, Ricky knew the stakes were about to change. Eventually, the chase would be on. Every law enforcement officer within a hundred miles on God’s green earth was about to search for him. His best guess was that, currently, no one beyond Isaac and Helen knew anything. Their first opportunity to call for help wouldn’t come until another motorist stopped or Isaac made it back to town on foot. Either option suited Ricky fine. One could take as long as the next.

  The song “Time Is on My Side” played in his head.

  He continued in a blaze up the mountain road. Confidence blossomed. By the time the police were notified, put together a plan, and finally exercised it, he would be nothing but a tiny speck hidden inside millions of acres of wilderness and uncharted roads.

  He glanced down at Josie’s little form. The last time he had seen her sleep was in her own bedroom in Ruidoso. He thought it odd how a dropped flashlight ended up the cause for so much.

  Soon, she would pay for his troubles.

  Chapter Fifty-Seven

  An iron fist connected with the dash. Isaac clearly recalled leaving the engine running when he got out to help. He’d left his cell phone in the cup holder. It too had disappeared. Even a small break would go a long way, but the stars weren’t aligned, at least not for him.

  He gripped the steering wheel with both hands and violently shook it. “No!” he screamed at the top of his lungs. The wail was long and drawn out, the very essence of defeat.

  Helen began to cry next to him. “I don’t know what to do.” Fresh tears ran down her cheeks. She loved Josie and couldn’t bear the thought of what she would soon have to endure. “We have to do something. We have to go.”

 

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