by Naomi Niles
“I want this handled quickly. If you’re not sure, you put him in jail.”
“You don’t have to worry. I’ll take care of it.” I hung up and looked the address up on my phone. I pulled up the street view to get a good look at it. It was an empty clearing surrounded on all sides by thin trees that grew so close together, it would’ve been impossible to walk through.
I zoomed out to see the neighboring properties. It reminded me of something that I’d seen in Kabul. It was an upper-class neighborhood surrounded by razor wire with half-finished houses covered in concrete and mud brick. The people there had purchased old trailers and were slowly building their houses around them. It looked like the people in Jason’s neighborhood were doing the same thing.
I threw the car into gear and reached back behind my seat to pull out my gun. I’d only touched it once since I got out of the navy and that was so I could put it behind the seat. It felt cold and weighty, not like the familiar automatic strapped around my shoulder.
I checked the clip while I flew down the freeway towards the Tennessee River. Then I put it back behind the seat, glad to be rid of the thing. I didn’t want to use it. I didn’t hate Jason. He just annoyed me. I would’ve been dead if it weren’t for him.
I didn’t like going after him, but he’d put himself in this situation. He didn’t leave me with any other choice. I couldn’t understand what he was trying to do. It occurred to me that he hadn’t actually broken into the building. He had plenty of chances. It didn’t make sense.
I crossed the river and started driving through the back streets, hoping to avoid the afternoon traffic. I didn’t know what I was going to say to Jason. The man was stubborn. Once he got something in his head, he had to follow it through. I wasn’t sure if he’d give this up, but I knew that he wouldn’t do anything to hurt me. He’d warned me about working for the security company, and he’d never shown any sign of hostility towards me.
The city was starting to fade. The woods were taking over, covering every square inch of dirt with spiny trees like overgrown sticks. The branches reached out over the road, creating a tunnel that blocked out the light, leaving only patches of sun that managed to pierce through the trees.
I was stunned by the landscape. It’d been so long since I’d seen anything as verdant as this. It was such a contrast when compared to the sand. It made sense Jason would live out here. It was quiet. There weren’t a lot of cars on the street, and you could explore the forest for years and never get tired of it.
When I pulled into Jason’s neighborhood, I slowed down so that I could have a look around. On one the corner there was a single-wide trailer, surrounded on three sides by a concrete shell, reinforced by chicken wire. The roof had been covered up with a tarp, presumably to protect it from the rain.
Just past it was a crumbling wooden shack that looked like it’d been built in the 19th Century with a caved in roof, drenched in moss that fell in tiny strands through the hole in the ceiling. There were three trucks parked out front.
It was just like Afghanistan — subhuman conditions and a wave of extremism, evident in the confederate flags posted up in front of the houses. One man had painted the flag on the hood of his truck with a picture of a noose in the center. It made me shudder. Jason hadn’t strayed very far from what he was used to.
The spaces between the houses grew larger and larger until there was nothing but forest and wild meadows, dotted with spiny pink flowers and white lilies. The air coming in through the cooler vent had the scent of pine, and when I pressed my hand to the window, it was cool to the touch. I was starting to get into the mountains.
Jason wasn’t stupid or sentimental. He planned things out in a practical manner. He wasn’t there for the forest, or so he could get a view of the city. He was there because he needed privacy. What was he doing?
I imagined myself looking at a barrel full of manure sitting out in the sun. He’d collect the chemicals he needed to create a bomb and plant it in the basement of the building so he could destroy the databases. The thought gave me chills. Was he that crazy? Why was he targeting the building that I was working for?
There had been no signs that he was starting to unravel. I would’ve noticed. For years, he followed me around everywhere I went, making vulgar comments at all the wrong times. Maybe the jokes were a way of playing off the way he felt inside.
I felt the familiar rush of adrenaline as I got closer to his property. I scanned left to right, searching for any sign of movement other than the trees waving in the wind. My senses were heightened and my body tense, listening for any sign of trouble. The slightest movement would’ve been enough to set me off.
On the edge of the clearing, there was a motion sensor and a security camera pointed at the road. He was keeping track of who was coming and going. Either he had something going on that he didn’t want people to see, or he was trying to avoid getting caught.
I pulled up to the motion sensor, grabbed my gun, and stuffed it into the seam of my pants, then got out of the car with my hands held up, facing the camera. “I’m not going to do anything, Jason. I just want to talk to you.”
A crack of thunder echoed through the trees, and I felt a burst of air pass by me. “Did you just fucking shoot at me!?”
I was answered by another shot whizzing past me. “I warned you!” he yelled from the back of the clearing.
“What are you doing? Put your gun down. I’m not going to do anything to you.”
Another blast, and I froze. This one was closer. He was an excellent shot. I’d never seen him miss. He was trying to scare me off. He wasn’t going to shoot me. I stepped closer into the clearing. “Back off!”
“Jason,” I said as I took another step forward. “I want to know what’s going on. I want to help you.”
He responded with a burst of gunfire, this time landing at my feet, spewing dust into the air. “Don’t come any closer.”
“Jason, what’s wrong? Why are you doing this? I’m your friend.”
“No, you’re not. You hate me. You’ve always hated me.”
“Do you remember that night in Kabul, when those men ambushed us and took me hostage? They were going to kill me, but you rushed in and shot all of them. You saved my life. You’re like a brother to me. That’s why I’m here. They know it’s you. They were going to call the police, but I told them that I wanted to talk to you first. I’m trying to save you.”
He stepped out of the trees at the back of the clearing. His face was covered in dirt, and he was wearing a stained pair of fatigues, holding a semi-automatic rifle. He looked like he’d been sleeping outside. “You can’t save me, Dwayne. I’m too far gone.”
“You can stop this.” I took another step forward and he let me. “You can walk away. You don’t have to go to prison.”
“I’m not going to prison.” He smiled.
I took another step forward. A twig cracked and something caught my foot, wrapped around my ankle, and pulled me up into the air. I was trapped, caught in a vine-woven net, hanging more than six feet up in the air. “Jason, you let me go right now.” I reached for gun, but it wasn’t there. I looked down to see it laying on the ground below me. It must’ve fallen out.
Up until now, I had been confident and relatively calm. I’d been relying on the fact that Jason and I were partners. I thought he worshipped me, that he actually considered me his friend, but something had taken ahold of him. He had always been crazy, but this was different. His mental state had degraded to the point where I didn’t recognize him any longer. I was terrified.
Even for a criminal, this behavior was absurd — psychotic. There was no way of knowing what he would do. He walked forward and pointed his rifle straight at me. “You ain’t going nowhere.” He pulled the trigger. I was vaguely aware of something piercing the skin on my neck, then black spots clouded my vision and I blacked out.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Gillian
Lexie was trying to take on more advanced stu
dents for private lessons. She said that if they got into a good ballet school and they succeeded, it would mean more visibility for us. It also meant longer hours, more mothers, and a whole new bracket of evil: soon to be dance moms.
The students were worse than the mothers. They were young enough to have no idea what they were talking about and conceited enough to think they knew everything. Mix that in with a heavy dose of hair bleach and adolescent angst and we had a recipe for disaster.
Our first private lesson was right after class on Tuesday morning, so we didn’t have any time to rest, and the lessons went on well into the night. I didn’t get home until eight o’clock, and I was so tired that I went straight to bed.
The next morning, I jolted out of bed. My back felt like it was ready to snap in half, and my legs were burning from having to walk on my toes all day. I hadn’t worked this hard in years, and I wasn’t sure I could keep it up.
I glanced at my phone to check the time and stared at the blank screen. My head fell into my hands. I still hadn’t called Dwayne. He probably thought I never wanted to see him again. I grabbed my phone off the nightstand and wrote. “I want to see you after work. I’m sorry.” I added a heart at the end and set my phone down to get ready.
It was early that the sun was still rising, but I knew he’d be awake. He didn’t get off work until nine when the building opened. When I got out of the shower, I checked my phone. It was blank. He was probably so mad at me that he didn’t want to face me. I couldn’t blame him.
I felt like I’d led him on, making him think that I was the one, only to drop him at the first sign of trouble. I needed him to know that I really wanted to be with him. I needed him. My bed was empty and I could still smell the sex in the room while I was getting dressed.
If I couldn’t fix this, I’d never have another night with him. He’d never look down at me while we were making love or take me out for a romantic dinner. I’d be alone.
Why did I keep sabotaging our relationship? A part of me thought that this was an unconscious reaction to my fear of being close to people, or a fear of getting hurt. I’d never allowed a man to get as close to me as Dwayne was.
I didn’t have time to analyze my mental state. I had to get to work. I wrapped my hair in a bun, grabbed my duffel bag, and walked out the door. Lexie was already inside holding a pair of free weights when I walked in. “How’d it go?” She set the weights down.
“How’d what go?”
“You called him last night, didn’t you?”
“No, I fell asleep.”
“You what? You have to get ahold of him.”
“I know. I grabbed my phone the second I woke up, but he hasn’t texted me yet. I’m worried that it’ll be too late.”
“Maybe he’s busy. He works late, doesn’t he? He’s probably asleep.”
“He’s still at work. He doesn’t get off until nine. He knows I texted him, and he’s ignoring me.”
Lexie marched right up to me. “Don’t you dare give up. I don’t know if he’s the one — I don’t even know if I believe in that — but he’s exactly what you need.”
“What should I do? He doesn’t want me.”
“You stupid, stupid girl. Do you really think that he doesn’t want you? If he’s mad, it’s because he wants you. Hunt him down. Do whatever you have to do to. Just don’t give up.”
I knew Lexie was right. It was all I could think of during class. Our private lessons went by slowly, dragging on through the afternoon. I wanted to run out and find Dwayne, but there was work to do, and Lexie couldn’t handle the girls on her own. She needed me.
When we’d finally finished our lesson for today, I left as fast as I could to drive down to Dwayne’s house. I wasn’t sure what I was going to say. This was my fault. I was the one who broke things off with him. He was probably so upset that he didn’t want to see me, but I couldn’t let things stay the way they were.
Part of me thought he would understand. We were so close. Something as stupid as this couldn’t possibly break us apart, but I’d really hurt him. The look on his face when I drove away was heartbreaking. I couldn’t keep going back and forth. At some point, he was going to get tired of it and leave.
When I turned onto his street, my stomach jumped. My skin was tingling. He had to understand. He just had to. This couldn’t be the end. The closer I got to the house, the more anxious I got. My worries were taking over, blocking out everything else. I was convinced he would get mad at me for coming and throw me out. If he had any sense, he would. I didn’t deserve him. I didn’t deserve anyone. I was a terrible girlfriend.
The neighbors had a hedge blocking my view of his front yard. When I passed it, I slammed on the brakes. His car wasn’t in the driveway. That didn’t make any sense. He was still working nights, so he should have been home. I pulled my phone out to call him to be sure.
“We’re sorry. The mailbox you’ve reached hasn’t been setup yet. Goodbye.” The machine hung up.
Why would he leave his phone off? He was always so methodical. He wouldn’t leave it off the charger. Goosebumps popped up on the back of my neck. He was in danger. I could feel it. I called Michael.
“Hello?”
“Michael something’s wrong. I’m trying to get ahold of Dwayne, and his phone is off. He’s not at home, either.”
“I don’t have time for this, Gillian. You’re freaking out over nothing.”
“No, Micha-”
“I mean it.”
“Just listen to me.”
He hung up. “Ugh,” I raged and dialed his number again.
“Will you stop?”
“Don’t hang up just listen to me.”
“I’m hanging up.”
“He’s in danger. Somebody’s after him.”
“What? Who?”
“I don’t know. They’ve been trying to sabotage the security system at his work. Then they called him and told him to quit. They know who he is.”
“How do you know something’s happened? Maybe he’s just at the store.”
“He’s not. He’s been working graveyards for more than a week.”
There was a long pause. “How can I help?”
“Call him. We had a fight. Make sure that he didn’t block my number.”
“What makes you think he did that?”
“It just goes straight to voicemail. It’s not like him to leave his phone off the charger.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry. That doesn’t sound like something he would do, but I don’t think he’d block your number, either, not over some petty fight.”
“I broke up with him.”
“You are by far the dumbest girl I have ever met.”
“I thought you didn’t like us together.”
“Mom’s right. You’re happy. You better hope you didn’t screw this up.”
“Michael, it’s not about that right now. I’m worried.”
“I’ll call him. I don’t know what else I can do.”
“I’m not giving up.” I hung up and pulled into the driveway. Maybe his car broke down and was in the shop. The thing was ancient. I knocked on the door and waited for a response. I couldn’t hear anything, so I pressed my ear against the door. All I heard was the hum of the air conditioner.
I knocked again. “Dwayne!”
Nothing.
I slumped against the door, tears welling up. He could be dead, or trapped somewhere. What if he never came back? I’d spend my life in mourning. I don’t think I’d ever cared about anyone the way I cared about Dwayne.
My phone rang. It was Michael. “What happened?”
“His phone is dead. It has to be.”
“What do I do?” I was sobbing now, pleading with him for an answer.
“I’m headed out now.”
“Michael…”
“Yeah?”
“Bring two guns.”
“Way ahead of you.” He hung up.
I looked inside the front window. The living room was emp
ty and the lights were off, but that didn’t mean anything. If he was there, he was sleeping. I walked around the carport into the backyard so I could look into his bedroom window. It was too high for me to reach, so I went to pick up a rock next to the tree. I ducked down, hoping to lift it, but it was too heavy, so I used my foot to roll it over so I could stand on top of it. I could see his bed through the blinds. It was empty.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Dwayne
The cold burned through my clothes, under the skin and into the bone where it had settled. I opened my eyes, and found myself sitting in complete darkness. Something was over my head. I could feel it pulling at a scab when I shifted. I tried to reach up to touch it, but my hands grated against something rough, and I couldn’t move.
I was tied up and the rope was digging into my wrists. Blood was streaming out of them. I must’ve struggled, but I couldn’t remember anything. Suddenly, a hand reached out and pulled the canvas bag off of my head, ripping the scabs of with it.
“Ah!”
I was laying sideways on the forest floor in a makeshift lean-to, staring at Jason, who was standing over me with his gun out. The barrel was less than three inches from my face. “I’m sorry.” He shook his head. “I don’t want to do this.”
“What are you doing?” My voice was raspy and distant, over the sound of my head ringing and the haze of tranquilizer.
“I’m killing you, Dwayne.” He laughed and took a seat on a camping chair in the corner.
“Wh-why?”
“Because you betrayed me. I told you to leave.”
“Betrayed you? I’m trying to stop you from committing a felony.”
He stared past me, outside the entrance, past the trees. I knew that look. “I have to.”
I tried to lift my head up, but black spots were marring my vision and the world started to spin out of focus. I fell back down before I realized it’d happened, and even then, the sensation of the impact was dulled.
“Remember…” His voice caught in his throat, and a sob rushed over him. His eyes went blank, and I knew exactly where he was.