by Sandy Night
“Get down,” Colt whispered hoarsely.
“They can’t see me.” She observed them as they paused before turning onto the road. The first one was a silver SUV, a soft glow inside outlined the deputy. “It’s them,” she said. Then a powerful light came on from the drivers’ door of the SUV, where the side-view mirror sat. It lit up a portion of the woods.
“Holy shit, Haggard’s got a floodlight.” She stretched out next to Whip, clutching his arm. His whole body seemed to be trembling.
“Cover your faces and do it now,” Colt ordered.
Alaska turned toward the ground and took short breathes. Her heart thumped. Crickets chirped. Then the purr of an engine rolled in front of them. She peeked. The opposite side of the road glowed like daylight.
*****
Colt scooted forward and propped himself up on his elbow while his other arm laid across the side of Whip’s head. The second vehicle had gone the other way to search for Alaska. Haggard drove his SUV at a hunters’ pace, projecting the strong broad beam of light.
“I don’t think he’ll go too far before he turns around to scan this side of the road,” Colt said in a low tone.
Alaska rustled the weeds. “Then let’s get up and run back into the woods.”
“No. He’s going to abruptly turn and speed up. I just know it. I’ve caught a number of people like that with a searchlight.” Colt pulled Whip up to his knees. “This is what we’re going to do—when I say go, run across the road and keep on going until I say get down.”
He never thought he’d be on the wrong end of a search by another lawman. But then again he’d never thought he’d run into the likes of this deputy. The crimes he committed were monumental—murder, attempted murder, assault, kidnapping, and numerous counts of fraud.
Colt had to time this right, if not, bullets would fly. When he calculated there to be enough blackness between them and him, he barked, “Go!”
*****
One of Alaska’s tennis shoes slipped off her foot as she scuttled out of the weeds. She reached for it but was pulled forward from the grip she had on Whip’s arm like he was a tugboat. “My shoe came off,” she said, running.
Colt stopped. “Is it in the road?”
“I don’t know, I don’t think so, could be on the side.” She looked over there but couldn’t see it.
“We can’t go back, c’mon.”
Not wanting to find anything sharp with her bare foot, she tiptoed, springing up and down. They hustled through the roadside bramble. They weaved as the density thickened. She almost toppled over a bush and her hand released Whip’s arm, but she snatched the tail end of his shirt and maneuvered behind him.
“Get down,” Colt blurted.
She glanced in the direction of the SUV before dropping. The red taillights appeared small in the distance but then they disappeared and in its place headlights appeared. “Crap, he’s turning around.”
Unable to stretch out, she crouched in an awkward ball, facing away from the road. Her heart hammered her chest. “I think he saw us.”
“No he didn’t,” Colt said between labored breaths. “I told he was going to turn.”
*****
Whip didn’t mind too much Alaska’s feminine hands all over him, but that big cop put a serious hurtin’ on him. Pain stabbed and throbbed across his shoulders as if his arms popped out of their sockets. He couldn’t wiggle his fingers no more.
His forehead kissed the ground, sticks poked his face, and his neck warned him to get up but he couldn’t. He squirmed like a mouse caught in a trap.
“Hold still.” The cop applied more pressure on him, making it difficult to breathe.
“You’re killing me,” Whip said with squeaky vocal cords. He couldn’t see a thing, and he heard nothing but the clatter of insects and heavy breathing, including his own.
The cop whispered, “He’s passing.”
“Is he stopping? Did he see my shoe?” Alaska’s low voice came from behind him.
Weeds rustled to the right of him. “No, he kept on going.” The cop pulled him to his feet.
Alaska’s hand slipped off his leg and the cop’s stronghold loosened. It was the break Whip knew would eventually come. He darted.
He relished in the freedom of hands groping his body, imprisoning him. But his knees didn’t cooperate as well as they needed to. A hand snagged the back of his shirt and yanked.
“Whoa, where do you think you’re going cowboy?” The cop seized his arm, sending a shitload of pain into his shoulder.
Whip fought the urge to cry and blurted out in the smartassiest way he could, “My aunt’s house, get something to drink. There’s dirt in my mouth.”
Alaska got in front of him. “What are you crazy? They tried to kill you, remember?”
“Hey, you two are fucking killing me! What the fuck does it matter who kills—”
“Shut up Whip.” Her breath blew in his face. “You’re going straight to jail!”
“Enough you two,” the cop commanded.
Whip’s captors stood silent as he stared in the direction of his aunt’s house. She tried to kill him, her own damn nephew. He trusted her, relied on her. And sometimes he even loved her as if she was his own mother. He swallowed down the lump in his throat but couldn’t do a damn thing about the tears rolling down his cheeks. Maybe she did try to stop Tom and Haggard from throwing him in the hole. But maybe she didn’t. She was an old bitch.
He snorted and spit. He didn’t think he’d be able to shake these two. They held onto him as if they were treading water in the middle of an ocean and he was a floating piece of debris.
“That’s not a bad idea,” the cop said.
“What?” Alaska asked.
“His aunt’s house, they’re not there, they’re out looking for you.”
“But I couldn’t see who all was in the truck. Tom or Esther could still be at the house. Remember somebody crashed the 4-wheeler, bet they’re not out running around, if their not dead.”
“What? Someone crashed the 4-wheeler?” Whip asked.
“Yeah,” Alaska answered. “Before we got you out of the tunnel somebody chased us on it then crashed. We heard it but couldn’t see it.”
“Probably my aunt.”
“We’ll chance it,” macho cop said. “Okay Whip, you want something to drink, let’s go, you lead the way.” The steel hand tugged his arm.
“Oh no, wait a minute.” Whip refused to move his feet. “I wasn’t really going over there. I was going to run to Oklahoma.”
“Well then, your choice, what other houses are around here?”
Whip hung his head. Fuck, that damn cop was playing games with him. Of course he couldn’t take them to another house; he’d be done for sure. And he couldn’t lead them back the way they came to get them lost, they wouldn’t go for that. Any other way he could go at this point they would pass other peoples property and possibly spot someone’s porch light.
But if someone was at his aunt’s house, it would not only be dangerous for him but for them as well, and that could distract them enough so he could get away. But maybe he could also find one of those DVDs of Haggard shooting Floyd. There had to be one stashed somewhere in the house. He could then expose the deputy for being the murderous scumbag that he was. And rat out Cousin Tom along with his damn mother for hatching the plan. By God, he was a victim here. They made him play dead.
He lifted his chin. “There’s nothing around here, the next house is miles away. So, let’s go to Aunty Esther’s.”
Chapter 20
Rocks skittered and crunched underneath Colt’s boots as they tramped down the same road Haggard’s SUV and the truck came out of. Being somewhat hindered with his left hand locked around Whip Cunningham’s forearm, his right hand drew in power from the weight of the dead flashlight.
His head switched back and forth as he strained to see thru the darkness. There could be another home nearby. A lot of back roads had more than one house. Sometimes clusters wer
e built to take advantage of already strung utility lines. But he detected not even a miniscule of light, nor bark of a dog. Frogs chortled among the insects clicking and clacking.
He so did not want to go to the Ketches’ but it seemed to be his only choice. The cramp in his side worsened and he wasn’t sure of his running abilities. He had to get to a phone.
Hopefully, Tom was out scouting for Alaska along with Haggard, and Esther gone with them. Or if someone did stay behind, they were injured from the crash. Maybe other family members got involved and they were there? He’d find out soon enough. A bright haze appeared in the short distance.
“Is that light coming from your aunt’s?” Colt asked in a low tone.
“Yep.”
“Oomph, ouch,” Alaska grumbled, apparently she stepped on another sharp rock with her bare foot.
“The offer for my shoe still stands,” Colt said.
“No, I’m fine.”
“Okay,” he said lightly, and then slowed his pace, focusing on their surroundings.
He imagined jungle soldiers approaching enemy camp to rescue prisoners, their silence, and how hard the knots grew in their stomachs, probably similar to the ball in the pit of his own gut.
However they were there to save themselves. And that included Whip; he had to have something churning in his mind.
The road curved, and then the house materialized with its windows aglow with light. An SUV was parked out front, and what appeared to be an older car was parked on the side, probably by a kitchen door. Colt whispered, “Whose vehicles?”
“My aunt’s, both of them,” Whip mumbled.
Colt pulled them away from the driveway’s entrance, off to the side of the property’s clearing, and out of the soft glow coming from the front porch light. He noticed a dark structure not too far away. “What’s that building?” he asked.
Heavy breathing responded to the question. Colt nudged him. “Shop,” Whip said.
Colt considered the possibility of going in there to rummage around for some rope to tie Whip down with, and maybe there’d be tape for his mouth, but he wouldn’t be able to find a thing in the dark. Whip surely wouldn’t help him. And if he turned a light on, if there was one, someone in the house could spot them and maybe come out with a shotgun. No, that wouldn’t do. He would have to infiltrate the house with his prisoner in tow.
“This is what we’re going to do,” Colt said barely above a whisper. “We’re going to maneuver around to the side of the house, not where the car is but the other side. And if you should even utter a peep, I swear I’ll clobber you unconscious with this flashlight.”
“Alaska too?” Whip muttered.
“No, smartass,” Alaska said a little bit too loud.
“Okay, no more talking,” Colt said. He wondered if he ought to just let Whip go, grab Alaska, and run the other way. But as sure as the rooster crows, she wouldn’t go with him; she’d fight him, and go after Whip. And then he’d have to set out after her, because letting her go, not going to happen, not now, not ever. He’d be there for her when all the chaos was over with. And it would take an act of God to pry him away from her, or a simple, I don’t want you, from her lips.
Urging Whip forward, Colt stayed close to the trees, keeping within the border of the black shadows. And like three sardines in a can, they hustled past the SUV and the length of the front yard. He listened intently for any noise coming from the residence, loud talking, a TV turned up, a phone ringing, anything. But no noise resonated. Then he pulled on Whip’s arm and cut a hasty path to the corner of the house.
*****
Alaska’s vigorous heart beat thumped deep inside her ear. Pressing her back against the wall of the Ketch’s home, she gripped Whip’s sweaty arm. He remained facing the wall, after Colt pushed him in that position.
The sound of her edgy breathing mixed with Whip’s heavy intake of air as she looked over his head at Colt. He leaned partway around the corner, checking to see if they’d been spotted.
At first she thought it a wild idea they go there and wondered if Colt was crazy consenting to go. But why not invade the Ketches’ like stalker thieves in the night; they were out looking for her, to do her in. And if someone was there, they’d be vulnerable because she and the hot cop from Little Rock would have the element of surprise, pounce on them, and take control.
“Psst,” Colt hissed, catching her attention. She could barely make out his figure in the enshrouding darkness.
“Move down,” he whispered.
She sidestepped, pulling Whip along until she came within a few inches of an unlit window. Placing her free hand on Whip’s arm, she released the one holding him, wiped her damp palm on her gritty jeans, and turned to face the glass windowpane. Even though it appeared pitch-dark inside, maybe she could see through the room and into another part of the house, or someone walking by if the door was opened.
But Colt tapped her back with the hard end of the flashlight, startling her. “Get down,” he said gruffly.
She immediately dropped, her knee screamed pain, gave out, and she yanked on Whip.
“Aaahh, my fucking arm,” he blurted out.
Alaska’s hand slipped and she lost contact with him. She flopped on her butt.
“Ssshhh, Ssshhh,” Colt hissed.
“Don’t hit me, man,” Whip blubbered, ducking and pressing himself into Alaska’s shoulder and chest.
“Get off me.” She pushed him and attempted to stand but fell forward and smacked her head against the house. “Oh, crap.”
Then Alaska put her hand on the wall and stood up in front of the window, sensing Colt balancing Whip on his feet. And in a hoarse tone Colt said, “Get back,” nudging Whip, making her move.
She stumbled but got out of the way. And then Colt plastered himself in front of the windowpane and peered in.
What the hell?
Gazing off to the side at the next one with low lighting coming out of it, she said, “C’mon Whip, we’ll go look through another one.”
Expecting him to be held back by the window bully, Whip moved right along with her.
“I was just trying to protect you,” Colt said. “I didn’t want you to be seen.”
“You’re the one who shouldn’t be seen, they think you’re dead and half way to China.” With eyes wide open, she didn’t hesitate to step up in front of the lighted glass.
Thin golden curtains parted enough for her to get a wide view of the bedroom. An orange lamp with a glowing shade sat on the end of a mirrored mahogany dresser cluttered with stuff, and a rumbled quilt covered the bed.
Whip butted his head in front of her below her chin. “My aunt’s room,” he said in a low tone.
Something odd caught Alaska’s eye as she moved over a few inches. She gazed downward in-between the dresser and bed, and on the carpet, laid a raised white sheet, outlining what could be a person. And then she noticed a red patch of what appeared to be blood that had seeped through the middle of the material, and at the end a lock of copper hair stuck out.
Had to be dead. Alaska gasped, sucking air in so fast her vocal cords squeaked.
“What? What?” Whip asked.
“There’s a dead body on the floor.”
He stood higher to peer over the window ledge and knocked her chin upward.
“Ow,” she muttered.
“Holy fuckaroni,” Whip cried out. “Aunty Esther’s dead!”
“Move!” Colt nudged them both out the way. “What makes you think it’s your aunt?”
*****
Esther Ketch had settled into coasting over imaginary clouds of amber morphine, marshmallow painkillers, and pink cotton candy. After awhile, voices jarred her.
She expected Tom to come stomping down the hallway and into her bedroom and say, what’s with the sheet over your face? Her response would be, just get me to a hospital.
But that didn’t happen. Instead, she heard, “I know Aunty Esther when I see her.” It was distinctly Whip’s voice. How could t
hat be?
“And beside’s,” Whip continued, “Tom’s a lot bigger than that and if it was anybody else, she sure as heck wouldn’t lay them out in her own bedroom like that, she’d put them out back.”
“I don’t think anyone else is here.” A man said.
What the hell? Esther opened her eyes and tried gazing through the white sheet. The voice sounded familiar, like that stud cop that betrayed Alaska, the same one they stuffed down the hole.
Ghosts? Shit, now she had fucking ghosts to deal with.
Eh, no big deal. They’d been tolerating old Sheriff Wooster’s ghost ever since he’d gone down the hole for trying to haul Uncle Elbert in for bootlegging.
*****
Whip wouldn’t poke his head past the back corner of the house until after Alaska and the pushy cop did. And when he did, he saw a bunch of solar lights sticking out of the ground, pointing the way to a low deck with a dazzling blue glow coming out of it. “Gaud, a hot tub!”
He stepped forward along with Alaska.
“Wait a minute,” the cop said and held them back.
Whip couldn’t believe it. Did his aunt put that in recently after he relocated to Branson? Or did she have it when he was sweltering in the land of monolithic mosquitoes?
Well, she’s dead now and he’s not.
He could see the rolling water and just about hear the sound of it over and above the night racket of clicking and clacking.
“Colt,” Alaska said sweetly. “Let’s go check it out. I can stick my foot in there.”
“Yeah, man,” Whip chimed. “Y’all can just throw me in.”
“I don’t think so,” Colt the cop said. “We’re not touching nothing but the hose and the phone. Where is the hose?”
“Huh?”
“The garden hose?”
“Oh,” Whip said, averting his gaze. “It should be over there on the other side of the back door.”
“Show me.”
Whip trudged toward it, flipping glances at the hot tub and its surroundings. Nothing used to be back there but shrubs of Mophead Hydrangeas. Now the big clusters of blue blossoms basked in light from a small luxury pool.