Spit and Die

by Jon Athan

  James leaned over Lucas and asked, “You smell that, right? Something's not right and I know it. You have training in this sort of shit, don't you?”

  Lucas responded, “I'm not a detective. I haven't even been to the academy.”

  “But, you studied this type of crap at school. Tell me I'm not crazy. Something is wrong, right?”

  “Lucas!” Nina shouted from the back of the truck. She beckoned to the men and yelled, “We have two flats!”

  Lucas and James glanced at each other, eyes wide with fear, then they jogged to the truck. They stopped near Nina. James shoved his fingers into his hair and walked in circles while Lucas examined the wheels. Indeed, someone sliced the wheels on the passenger side of the vehicle. The cuts were clean and precise, as if the wheels were sliced with a knife.

  Before they could say a word, Kiara approached the group and said, “Someone did the same thing to our car, guys.”

  “Fuck!” Christopher shouted as he walked around his hatchback.

  A wave of frustration and fear struck the group. Two people had vanished overnight, one from each party. Their vehicles were vandalized, but they didn't have any suspects. They were stranded with a limited supply of water and food. Their friends could have been in danger, too. The clock was ticking.

  James said, “This is fucked up, man. I knew we shouldn't have trusted them! We should have helped them out, then we should have left! We should have drove off, Lucas!”

  Christopher said, “Hey, man, we didn't have anything to do with this. What? Huh? You think we cut your tires, then we cut our own? For what, huh? For what?!”

  “I don't know. You tell us. You could be part of a... a human trafficking cartel. Your boy could have abducted my sister.”

  Christopher furrowed his brow and asked, “You really think we would do something like this? You think we're responsible for this? Really?”

  “I don't know what to think. I was sleeping in the truck, minding my own business. You woke me up, you found out that they were gone first. Everyone else was sleeping. That's suspicious, isn't it?”

  “Waking up early doesn't make me a human trafficker,” Christopher rebutted. He shrugged and said, “Maybe it was you. You were mad about your sister hooking up with Carlos, right? 'A dumb slut,' that's what you called her, right?”

  “That's not what I said,” James said, shaking his head as he stared at the ground.

  “I heard you.”

  Kiara stepped between the arguing men and said, “Stop. Just stop it.”

  With that, the group became quiet. James walked around in circles as he muttered about his sister. Lucas and Nina sat on the hood of their truck. Christopher and Kiara sat on the hood of their hatchback, directly across from the other couple.

  Lucas sighed, then he said, “We can't just jump to conclusions. We can't blame this on human traffickers and we definitely can't blame each other. What if... What if they went for a walk?” He glanced over at Christopher and said, “You said there was a town nearby. Maybe they went to a diner for breakfast or maybe they rented a room at a motel to get some more privacy.”

  James stomped and shouted, “That's stupid, Lucas! You think they cut our tires and left us behind for fun or something? Someone did this to us! We are victims! Open your fucking eyes, man!”

  “My eyes are open. I get it: we're in trouble. We can't jump from one conclusion to another without some evidence, though. That's all I'm saying. We need time to think. Let's just give them a minute.”

  James tapped Lucas' chest and said, “We don't have a minute. We have to find her. She could be in danger. She could already be hurt. This is my sister we're talking about here.”

  “He's right,” Christopher said. “He's wrong about all of that other shit, we didn't have anything to do with this, but he's right about that. We don't have a lot of time here. Carlos could be in danger. I practically forced him to join us on this trip. If anything happens to him... that's on me. I have to make sure he's okay.”

  Lucas heard the fear in James' voice and he saw the regret in Christopher's eyes. For some reason, they looked to him for guidance. He wasn't a police officer, but he had the aura of a leader.

  He said, “Okay. Well, we should look for more clues around here.”

  As he jogged to the back of the truck, James said, “I'm going to look for tracks.”

  “I'll look on this side,” Christopher said as he walked past his hatchback.

  Lucas beckoned to the women and said, “Both of you should try calling their cell phones. If they don't answer, start calling the cops.”

  Lucas returned to the tent, curious. He pinched his nose and knelt down in front of the entrance. He analyzed every detail, examining even the most minuscule clue. Clothing littered the floor of the tent, but Carlos' shirt was missing. They wouldn't leave without getting dressed, he thought, and Andrea couldn't have gotten any extra clothes without getting into the truck and waking us up.

  He leaned back and examined the area around the tent. He narrowed his eyes upon spotting footprints on the ground. The footprints overlapped each other, as if someone were walking in circles around the tent. Someone was watching us all night, he thought, and he spent the night watching Andrea and Carlos.

  A buzzing sound emerged inside of the tent. Lucas pinched his nose and leaned forward. He moved Andrea's shirt aside, grabbing the garment with his fingertips. He found a cell phone. The caller ID read: Kiara. Using the process of elimination, he rationalized that the phone belonged to Carlos. Andrea didn't have Kiara's phone number after all.

  Lucas whispered, “There phones are still in here. They wouldn't leave without their phones, would they?”

  Lucas returned to the truck.

  Kiara said, “Carlos isn't answering.”

  “I know,” Lucas responded. “Their phones are still in there.”

  Nina said, “I tried calling 911, but I can't get through. I have service, but no one is answering.”

  “It's always something. Listen, I think we should–”

  “There are tracks over here!” James shouted as he ran back to the group.

  Lucas, Nina, and Kiara glanced over at him, surprised. Christopher stopped his search and ran back to the truck. They quickly regrouped, eager to hear more.

  James slid to a stop. He pointed past the back of the truck and said, “There are tracks back there, right across the street. It's a path. It's... It's narrow, but it can fit a car. I think it's a driveway.”

  “A driveway?” Lucas repeated in an uncertain tone.

  “Yeah. I saw some footprints and a tire mark.”

  With a furrowed brow, Nina asked, “A tire mark? Only one?”

  James responded, “There are other tracks around there, but only the footprints and the tire track matter right now. Listen up, here's what I think happened: someone knocked out Andie and Carlos while they were sleeping, they were dragged out of the tent and carried across the road, then they were tossed into a wheelbarrow and hauled away. That's what happened, right? Right?”

  They all glanced at each other, doubt glimmering in their eyes. The theory made sense, the pieces fit to form a comprehensible image, but there were still too many unanswered questions.

  Lucas said, “I guess it's possible, but it could be nothing. For all we know, those tracks were there before we got there. If they were kidnapped, the kidnapper could have knocked them out, put them in a car and drove away. If we follow that trail, we could be walking to a dead-end and wasting more time.”

  James tilted his head and asked, “Are you kidding me? You know I'm right, Lucas. This is my sister we're talking about here. This is lil' Andie. You won't help me find her because... because there isn't enough evidence?”

  “I will help you find her, but I want to do it the right way.”

  Lucas stared at his close friend with a set of glimmering eyes—remorseful puppy eyes. James glared at Lucas, infuriated by his cowardice. Their relationship, built off of years of trust, was rapidly
crumbling.

  Chiming in, Nina said, “I think James is right. That trail probably leads to that house we passed before we got here. It can't be more than a mile back.”

  Lucas said, “That house could be abandoned. And, if the owner really did kidnap Andrea and Carlos, what are we going to do about it like this? We don't have any weapons.”

  “I don't need any weapons,” James said. “I'm going to that house—with or without you.”

  Lucas rubbed the nape of his neck and sighed in disappointment. He spun in place as he quietly sorted through his options. He cared about Andrea, but he didn't want to risk Nina's safety for something of uncertainty. Compromise, he thought, we have to compromise in order to work together. He stopped spinning.

  He stared at James and said, “Let's split up. I'll walk with Nina and Kiara to the nearest town. We'll find the sheriff and we'll lead him back here or to that house. While we do that... you and Christopher can follow the tracks. Sound good?”

  James responded, “Fine. I'll see you in a bit.”

  As James ran off, Nina shouted, “Be careful!”

  Christopher grabbed a sheath from the trunk. The sheath held a hunting knife with a six-inch blade. He never used the knife against a person or even an animal, but he refused to travel without protection.

  He kissed Kiara, then he said, “I'll be back as soon as possible. You stick with them until we have all of this figured out. Keep your phone on, okay?”

  Kiara nodded and said, “Okay, I love you.”

  “I love you, too.”

  The couple shared another kiss, then Christopher ran across the road. He followed James into the overgrown grass and sprinted down the path.

  Kiara glanced over at Lucas and Nina—and the couple stared back at her. Stranded without a lifeline, the strangers were forced to rely on each other to survive.

  Kiara nervously smiled and said, “I guess I'm going with you.”

  Lucas responded, “I guess so. Come on, let's find this damn town before they get into any trouble.”

  Chapter Six

  The House

  James and Christopher followed the narrow trail, their eyes wandering every which way. Through the overgrown grass, they could still see the main road a quarter-mile behind them. Tall grass, prickly shrubs, dried fields, and a few trees surrounded them. It wasn't a forest, it was just a pasture. Thanks to their height, they could see most of the area around them.

  James walked on the left side of the path, hitting the neighboring bushes with a large branch. Christopher strolled along the other side, holding the sheath close to his ribs. The men were still bitter about the accusations, so they didn't share a word during their five-minute walk. Suspicion lingered in their minds, leaving them perpetually vigilant.

  Breaking the silence, James stared down at his sneakers and said, “Listen, I'm sorry about everything I said back there. I didn't mean to attack you or anything like that. I was just acting stupid. I'm sorry, okay?”

  Christopher glanced over at James. The man accused him of kidnapping Andrea, labeling him as a criminal with little evidence. He didn't have any words for him, so he responded with a nod.

  James explained, “I'm protective of my sister. Yeah, I call her names and I tease her about the stupid shit she does, but I still care about her. I love her. When she messes around with guys she barely knows... it worries me. I just want what's best for her. That's all.”

  “I get it. If I had a sister and she disappeared without a trace, I probably would have reacted the same way. I mean, I'm worried about Carlos, too. He's like a brother to me, so... Well, I get it. Don't worry about it.”

  “Cool, thanks... I just hope they're okay. I–”

  “Wait up. Check this out,” Christopher said as he nodded forward.

  The men narrowed their eyes as they walked past a tree. A palatial house stood beyond the pasture. The forgotten Plantation-era house resembled a mansion. The house stood two-stories tall with Doric columns around the building. The paint looked chipped and dusty. From afar, the house looked as if it were abandoned. However, the tracks led directly to the isolated home.

  The men jogged towards the house. James tossed the branch into the overgrown grass, Christopher shoved the sheath into his waistband. They didn't want to alarm the homeowner with their weapons. They walked up the porch steps, then they knocked on the screen door. There was no response.

  Christopher held his hands around his face and leaned closer to the door. The front door was open, so he could see into the foyer of the home. He stared into a wide hallway. There was a staircase on the right side of the hallway. Archways on the left and right led to the other rooms in the house. The house appeared to be vacant at the moment. The house was furnished, though, so it wasn't abandoned.

  James knocked again and yelled, “Is anyone home?! Hello?”

  Yet again, there was no response. As Christopher peered through the screen door, James walked down the porch steps. He walked in reverse until he could see the balconies and windows on the second floor.

  He shouted, “Hello?! Is anyone home? We're looking for someone! We'd just like to ask you a few questions!” No one answered. He cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled, “Andie! Andie, are you in there?! Carlos! Damn it, answer me! Tell me you're okay, tell me–”

  He stopped and stared at a window on the second floor. From the corner of his eye, he spotted a swaying curtain. The window is closed, he thought, it couldn't have been the wind.

  He ran up the porch steps and said, “There's someone in there. They're not answering us on purpose.”

  “So, what do we do?” Christopher asked.

  “We go in there and we find my sister.”

  “Wait a second, man. What if Lucas was right? What if they have nothing to do with this? You're just going to barge in and–”

  Ignoring Christopher's words of doubt, James pulled on the screen door's handle. To his utter surprise, the door swung open. Locks didn't seem popular in that area. He glanced over at Christopher. Sparkling with determination, his eyes said: I'm going in.

  Christopher shook his head and whispered, “This is fucked up. We're breaking the law, man.”

  “I have to find her. You can wait out here if you want, but I will find my sister.”

  James walked into the foyer of the house. He looked through the archway to his left. He found himself staring into a spacious living room. From his quick glance, he didn't see anything out of the ordinary. He stared into the room across the hall. Bookshelves covered the walls from top to bottom. The books—textbooks and novels—were old and decrepit. A single desk sat at the center of the room.

  James whispered, “Whoever lives here must be a rich bastard. They have a damn library in their house. Haven't they ever heard of a Kindle?”

  Christopher sighed in disappointment, then he entered the house—reluctant but determined. He walked into the living room, holding the sheath in his right hand. The old furniture caught him off guard.

  The tattered couches at the center of the room emitted a smoky stench. Dials protruded from the old tube television—it was an ancient piece of technology. The picture frames clinging to the walls held more black-and-white photographs. He didn't recognize any of the people in the pictures, though.

  He walked along the wall and analyzed the books and jars on the shelves. The spines on the novels were illegible. The jars appeared to be holding a slimy liquid. Tresses of hair floated in some of the jars, detached teeth swam in the others—all of it belonged to humans.

  Christopher grimaced in disgust and whispered, “What the hell is this place?”

  As Christopher searched the living room, James quietly walked up the stairs. At the top of the stairs, he found himself at the center of another dimly-lit corridor. There were four doors to his left and four doors to his right. At each end of the hall, there were more hallways leading deeper into the house.

  The curtains moved in a room on the left side of the house, so the ch
oice was obvious. As he took his first step down the hall to his left, a door swung open behind him.

  James turned and gasped. His eyes and mouth widened. His heart raced in his chest, pumping blood to his tense limbs. He froze with fear, paralyzed by his shocking discovery. His fight-or-flight response landed somewhere in the middle: wait and hope for the best.

  As time slowed to a crawl, he stared into the eyes of a woman—or, more accurately, the eye of a woman. The woman's left eye was sealed shut. From the crust around her eye, it looked as if her eyelids were superglued together. Her other eye revealed her baby blue iris. Her smile suffered the most, though. Her cheeks were cut to the bone, then sewn back together. The cut was healed, leaving a dark scar across her cheeks, but the stitches were not removed. Abscesses, pulsating with yellow pus, surrounded the scar.

  The woman's outfit looked normal compared to her face. She wore a faded blue floral-pattern house dress and blue slippers, and her frizzy brunette hair was tied in a bun.

  Time resumed at its regular pace as the woman raised a scalpel over her shoulder. Before James could react, she thrust the scalpel into his shoulder. James shrieked in pain as his blood soaked his tank top. The woman pulled the scalpel out of his shoulder, then she stabbed his chest.

  James grabbed her wrist and tried to stop her from stabbing him again. The pair bounced from wall-to-wall as they wrestled for an advantage.

  James was a strong man. He could have easily overpowered his attacker if it wasn't for the shock he was experiencing. The woman took advantage of his fear. She leaned closer to his face, showcasing her mutilated features. As her victim squirmed in fear, she dug one of her fingernails into the stab wound on his shoulder.

  James yelled, “Help! Fuck! Chris, help me! Somebody–”

  The woman pulled the scalpel out of his chest. She thrust the blade into James' back as he tried to squeeze past her. The blade easily glided across his shoulder blade, leaving an eight-inch gash across his back.