by Sandy Night
“Get away with what?”
“Trying to prove Whip’s alive.”
“What! He is alive. He’s standing right there.”
Esther glanced at him. “That isn’t Whip, that’s Floyd.”
“I know the difference between Whip and Floyd. I’ve known them since the first fucking grade!”
“See, kids change when they grow up,” Esther mocked.
“Are you insane?”
The floor shook. Deputy Doug Haggard came in, and then Tom.
Alaska caught the glint of a soda can Tom held, and she wanted it. Not only was her mouth gritty and parched beyond all reasoning, but Whip’s nasty finger had been in there.
“Where’d you get that soda?” Whip stepped forward. “Are there any more?”
“You don’t deserve one!” Esther shot.
“I don’t care, I’m getting one.” Whip sidestepped around his aunt but Haggard grabbed his arm. “You’re staying right here, Ketch go get him one.” The Deputy let go and pushed Whip. “Get back over there.”
Tom lingered as if he didn’t want to fetch the soda, sipping off his own, but then he stalked out.
Even though the deputy didn’t wear his uniform, his firearm, the one entrusted to him, hung by his side.
“Well you make a crappy lawman,” Alaska said.
He jerked his weapon out of the holster and pointed the steel barrel directly at her face. “You better watch your goddamn mouth!” His Adams apple bobbed in his throat. “I’ll put a bullet in there.”
Alaska gritted her teeth. Jackass! How the hell did he get a badge? Didn’t anybody, anybody at all, know how psycho he was?
Tom came back and threw the can of soda at Whip. It hit him on the shoulder, knocking him off balance. Then it dropped to the floor and rolled off.
“Son-of…” Whip began but stopped. He stepped toward his aunt, bent over to pick up the can, and then straightened back up, flipping open the tab right where he stood. Orange spray gushed out like a geyser erupting, hitting Esther. She didn’t jump, move, yelp, or flinch. The orange liquid soaked into her top and rolled down her face and arm.
Some of the shower fell upon Alaska. A cold drop rested between her top lip and nose. She stuck her tongue out to reach it.
Whip tipped up the can and guzzled.
Staring at her nephew, Esther said as if she was talking to a friend about the weather, “I say we take care of the problem, right here, right now.”
“Not yet,” Haggard disagreed. “We need to talk to her.”
Alaska figured he planned on prying out of her how she found out that Whip was in Branson and who else knew and how much. And then dispose of her, like Colt. Her throat swelled and she sniffled.
“I wasn’t talking about her,” Esther spat. “Him,” she said, indicating Whip. “I’ve had enough of his crap. He’s going to get us all caught. We need to get rid of all the evidence. You know what I mean.”
“Aunty Esther,” Whip said, sounding like he’d been sucking off a helium balloon. “You can’t throw me down that damn hole! I’m family, without me; there would be no insurance money, none at all.”
“I’m the one that made that happen,” Deputy Haggard bragged. “And I wanted to do away with you from day one.”
“I bet you did,” Whip shouted. “You shot my brother you scumbag. We ought to put you down that fucking hole!”
Shocked at that statement, Alaska switched her gaze toward Haggard. He shot Floyd?
Chapter 13
So much brush and branches intertwined with the rickety cabin it seemed as if the building had grown there, mingling with other plant species. Mrs. Ketch parked the 4-wheeler with the red cooler out front. The silver SUV sat to the side in a small horseshoe clearing.
Glancing around, Colt saw nobody about.
Whoever all was here, went inside, he could hear them arguing. Here were the people that framed Blade for murder, the same people who hit him on the head and dropped him into the bowels of the earth. And they knew what happened to Alaska. Either they have her or she got away. And as much as he wanted to storm the ill-fated structure like a cop gone mad, he remained calm. He needed to confront these people, somehow, someway. He needed a weapon.
With his shoulders hunched and knees bent, he darted out into the open, hopefully without being spotted. Due to all the plant life, he didn’t think they could see out the window too well, if at all.
He reached the SUV and peered into its interior. The back seat had been put down but nothing was back there. Maybe the space was used to transport him, unconscious, from Branson. It gave him a creepy feeling as if his own casket lay before him.
And Alaska, had she been back there with him? He really needed a weapon. Sidling over to the passenger door he held his breath hoping an alarm wouldn’t sound out as he pulled on the handle. It didn’t.
Crouching over, he opened the glove compartment and rifled through papers with a steady hand. No gun. No knife. Not even a screwdriver. Maybe a crowbar, he leaned over and peered under the seat. Plastic cups and aluminum cans littered the tight area. Then he saw a flashlight with a long, black sleek handle, the kind Colt was accustomed to using. Perfect. It could definitely put a hurting on someone. He slid out of the SUV.
He rushed to the cabin and crawled into the weeds like a cat, getting scratched and poked from a bush as he clawed his way through. Leaning against the rotten boards he wondered if he did the right thing. Maybe he should go, find a phone and call backup first. And call his dad; tell him to bring the guns.
*****
Floyd was dead? Or just got shot? Alaska wanted to ask but realized the events unfolding around her could possibly open a window of opportunity for her to escape. So she laid frozen, lips zipped.
“We don’t need to be putting trigger happy down Uncle Elbert’s hole,” Esther said to Whip. “Remember, we blackmailed him into this insurance scheme. He’s not getting much money.”
“Much money!” Whip screeched. “He wasn’t supposed to get any money.”
“Things changed,” Tom chimed in. “After the money started coming he threatened to expose us all, jeopardizing himself.”
“Well that’s all the more reason to put him down there,” Whip said.
Tom stepped in front of him, making him take a step back. “But you’re screwing things up. You’re supposed to be in Florida!
“But I hated that cockroach rat motel, and people don’t even speak English down there.”
Alaska felt like a pest herself laying there on the floor looking up at everybody.
Whip stood as tense as a board with his arms straight by his sides, and his hands shook so bad it was as if they had the potential to propel him off the ground. And then he exploded.
“You’re all forgetting something. I’m the one who made it all happen. I’m the one who got Blade to fight. I’m the one who got hit on the head. I’m the one who had to play dead! Be dead! Stay dead!”
He pointed at his own chest, hammering on it. “I’m the one that made it all happen. Y’all hardly done nothing. Nothing compared to what I’ve been through. And y’all are enjoying the money. Not me. I’ve barely been surviving. Y’all should be kissing my ass!”
Whip’s frenzied outburst stopped. A board creaked as if he had awakened the ghosts that resided there.
Esther broke the silence. “But it was me who planned it all. I bought the policies with my own money. And I have been kissing your ass. But you blew it. I warned you in Branson I would kill you if you screwed up. And you did, so this is the end of the road for you. Tom, go move the boulder.”
“But we’ll have mercy on you,” she said mockingly. And then her tone changed back, “Doug shoot him,” she commanded.
Holy Shit! Esther Ketch had ordered the Deputy to kill her own nephew, right there. Stunned, Alaska squirmed to change her position around to see Haggard better. Was he going to do it? He raised the gun.
All the pain in Alaska’s body disappeared. Gone were the
throbs in her forehead, the piercing cramps in her back, and the cutting into her wrists. She was about to witness a cold-blooded murder, and in just a few feet in front of her. Would she be next?
No explosive pop sounded; instead Haggard appeared dumbfounded. “What the hell?” He swung the cylinder out and peered into the chambers. “I don’t have any bullets.” He shook it. “What the hell happened to my bullets?”
Esther blurted, “Well you do make a crappy lawman. You can’t even keep bullets in your own damn gun.”
He spun on his heels. “Don’t you talk to me like that.”
“I’ll talk to you however I want to.”
As they bickered back and forth like children, Alaska noticed Whip maneuvering toward the brush covered hole in the wall that used to be a window. He was fixing to run. And that would be good. While they went after him, she would have the minute she needed to untie her ankles.
But halfway out, Haggard grabbed the back of his shirt, pulled him back in, and struck him on the side of the head with the gun. Whip crumbled to the floor, and laid there out cold.
Not caring if they saw her, there were no bullets and Tom was outside, Alaska raised her hips again, scooted her feet under her butt, and with fingers that felt as though they had been mummified, began working on the knot she had started on before.
“Well,” Esther said to the Deputy. “Move him out there.”
“I’ll wait for Tom.”
“Wait for Tom,” she scoffed. “What are you a weakling?”
“If you think it’s going to be that easy then you do it.”
“All right, I will. And I’ll do it one handed too.” She pulled on Whip’s arm. He moved an inch, and with a grunt from Esther, half a foot.
“Oh, for Christ’s sakes,” Haggard mumbled. He picked up a leg and pushed. Whip slid across the floorboards.
They reached the doorway and Esther stepped through still holding onto her nephew, but he didn’t make it, his head rammed into the doorframe.
“Now look what you did,” Esther complained.
“What does it matter? We are killing him aren’t we?”
*****
As long as Alaska had known Whip Cunningham, she always thought she would never see the day she would ever feel any compassion toward him. He was the weasel who at numerous times stuck gum in her hair, attacked her with the intent of rape which got her face slashed, and then he purposely and methodically sent her brother to the state pen for murder.
But as she witnessed the process of his own murder, for real this time, she felt sorry for him. And there was nothing she could do about it.
They got Whip out of the cabin and the knot came undone. She unwound the shoelace thinking freedom but there was another tight knot and she still couldn’t slip the cord over her feet. She would hobble out of there if she had too and bounce away like a rabbit. And if they caught her, she would scream at the top of her lungs. But didn’t Whip do that and nobody came?
Her fingers pulled and twisted on the second knot while her back tired from the awkward position. She could hear them outside, squabbling as they dragged Whip over the ground.
Then something big and dark burst through Whip’s intended escape hatch, making her heart pound even faster. She gasped, expecting to look in the face of a bear, but it was the man who her heart had been grieving for. He stayed low as he came to her.
“Colt!”
“Shhh,” he hissed with his finger to his lips.
Alaska’s heart melted like a marshmallow over an open fire. She lowered her hips and stretched out her legs, astounded at his appearance. He looked like he had been wallowing in the mud like a hog. But considering where he had been, he looked good. Probably a miracle he got out.
He found the knot that kept her ankles bound and began working on it.
Then it hit her, of course, when Tom moved the boulder, Colt was right there, waiting. He must have overtaken Tom. “Did you knock Tom out?”
“Shhh.”
“But Colt,” Alaska said, lifting her head, “we can take Haggard and Esther easy. Haggard has no bullets.”
He yanked the lace. She was free.
“Oh thank God.” Alaska sat up and turned her back for him to untie her wrists. But he went scrambling around on his hands and knees, and came back with her tennis shoes.
“My wrists,” she urged.
“I’ll do them latter.” He forced the shoes on her feet. “Let’s get out of here.”
She attempted to stand but he pulled her down and whispered in her ear, “I have done nothing to Tom. We’re going out the same way I came in.” He gripped her bicep and moved at a fast pace, making her tread on her knees.
When they passed the gaping doorway, Alaska rubbernecked, seeking the location of her enemies. She did not see or hear them. They probably went out in the woods a distance.
“I’ll go first and help you through,” Colt said before rolling out of the hole in the wall. His head and arms popped up on the other side. He grasped her shoulders and pulled her helplessly into a bush. Unable to ward off the skinny branches, she got prodded.
Why the hell couldn’t they have just snuck out the door?
When her feet hit the ground, she instinctively stood. The leaves grew less densely up there. She saw them, mortified to see how close they were.
They congregated to the left, beyond the SUV, two spits past the edge of the clearing. They displayed a horrifying act of cruelty. Haggard and Tom held Whip upside down by his legs, dipping his body halfway into the ground. Next to them, Esther leaned against a boulder, gazing toward the cabin, and then all of a sudden the old woman’s head jutted forward.
Chapter 14
Colt picked up the flashlight and proceeded onward alongside the cabin, keeping low, and manhandling the thick bushes as motionlessly as possible. When he reached the corner, it dawned on him that Alaska could be having difficulty getting through. He peered over his shoulder and couldn’t even see her.
With a throaty undertone he called out, “Alaska. Alaska.”
He skittered back, breaking sticks, and almost panicked when he saw her long legs standing. “Alaska.”
She dropped. Her eyes rounded wide as hubcaps. “I think she saw me.”
“C’mon, and stay down.” He turned around and headed back on his knees, keeping the branches parted for her with the hand holding the flashlight.
She said it again, “I think she saw me.”
“Are you sure, or maybe?”
“I don’t know.”
Was Alaska spotted? He knew where they were, he had peeked out from underneath the giant shrubs after Tom fled the cabin and saw him at a boulder with a shovel and a two-by-four.
The doorway to hell.
The fear of death tingled his spine, but he decided instead of letting it overwhelm and weaken him, he would use it to his advantage to strengthen himself, knowing that a man or animal fighting for his life was a worthier opponent than one who was not. He dreaded the possibility of them being behind the cabin by now, waiting for them to come out.
He stopped at the corner and wrapped his arms around Alaska, pressing his cheek against her moist one. “When I tell you to run—run,” he said as he captured the sensuous aroma of her hair. “And don’t stop no matter what happens.”
“Untie me.”
“No time.”
He let her go, stuck his head around the side, and surveyed the back. There was an oak tree, a spread of pine, no thicket, and nobody in clear sight. They could be hiding but he was ready for them, clenching the only weapon he had.
He eased out of the undergrowth, stood up, took a step, and scoured the area with darting eyes. Nothing happened. No one appeared. He beckoned Alaska to follow, and then Esther wailed like a banshee inside the cabin.
Colt yanked Alaska up and pushed her in front of him. “Run!”
*****
Alaska barreled ahead, but after being knocked out, laid out, wrists still tied together behind her back,
knees stiff, and shoes loose from having no laces, she stumbled and almost fell flat on her face. But Colt caught her shoulders and balanced her out. She quickly composed herself and kept on going.
Esther dished out a string of curse words. Haggard yelled out something incomprehensible. Somebody started the 4-wheeler and revved the engine.
Alaska gained momentum going downhill, zigzagging around trees. The high risk of slipping didn’t faze her. Colt could pick her up. His feet pounded behind her, crunching leaves. She totally forgave him. He could lie about his profession all he wanted, but nothing else.
The sound of the 4-wheeler got louder as if it homed in on their direction. The engine revved continuously up and down, obviously having trouble getting through the pine as no trail existed.
Ahead, Alaska observed the tree line, where beyond it laid a wide glen void of the forest canopy. Light beamed on tall grass. If they ran into it, she could gain more speed but so could the 4-wheeler. They would without a doubt be visible and easy prey. She slowed to a trot.
Where the hell were they? Banged up Esther got up there on her little beastly 4-wheeler, so they were probably somewhere near her property.
A remembrance surfaced from the deep, one that was never meant to be recalled. Alaska’s gait stammered. She was ten and at the Ketches’ residence with her grandmother. The hot afternoon made her sweat and she had an earache. The adults were in the house, talking loud and laughing, and she stayed on the front porch. Tom came along, an older boy and he stared at her weirdly. He invited her to a game of hide-and-seek. She agreed only to get away from him.
She hid first and stood on the other side of a small building near the house. But the sun’s rays beat on her so she stepped around the corner and spotted Tom leaving through a door he had left wide open. He strolled away and she went inside. The dim and cool air soothed her. She went around a car and knelt in the corner. Resting her head on her knees, she daydreamed about the strawberry pop her grandmother promised to buy her on the way back home.