by Tom Hunt
About one hundred feet away was the beam of a flashlight, headed straight toward them.
* * *
Amber and Ross walked on. She felt so tired that she could barely continue. Her feet were dragging. Her eyelids were starting to close. Her stomach was growling. She struggled to keep up with Ross; his movements were so jumpy and sped up.
She looked up ahead at Ross, trudging along, grumbling to himself. The longer they were out here, the more he’d started cursing and complaining about how angry he was, how hungry he was. He kept popping pills, too. They made him even more short-tempered and irritable. Earlier, he’d gotten so mad that he yanked open the backpack and started sifting through everything frantically. Not much was inside—the money, the Star Wars masks, and her gun, which she’d put in the backpack after the robbery. Whatever Ross was looking for inside, he hadn’t found it. He grumbled a curse word and yanked the zipper shut with such a forceful motion that he broke the zipper. Since then he’d carried the bag in one hand instead of strapping it onto his back. Occasionally, a loose bill would flutter out of the opening in the backpack and be swept away in the light breeze.
Amber honestly didn’t know how much more she could take. She was just too tired. She didn’t know how much more Ross could take, either. He seemed like he was going to overheat or something soon. It was—
Ross stopped walking. It was so dark she nearly walked right into him.
“I’ll be damned,” he said, staring ahead. “People. And they got a couple cars with them.”
She saw it all. Roughly a quarter mile in front of them was a car with its interior light on. Two people were barely visible outside the car. A second car was parked a few feet away.
For the first time in hours, Ross smiled.
“Might be our lucky day,” he said.
SEVEN
Joshua looked at the approaching flashlight. It was too dark to see who was behind it. A park ranger? An off-season hunter? A police officer? It didn’t really matter. Regardless of who it was, this was going to be it.
“Just stay calm,” his mom said. “Whoever this is, when they see the body, we’ll be honest, tell them everything. And then we’ll call the police. Tell them you made a mistake. A terrible decision. And we’ll hope they understand.”
Maybe that was for the best. Go to the police, even if an entire day had passed. Just end this right now.
The flashlight was only thirty feet away. Twenty. His heart thundered as he waited for the person behind it to arrive. He looked at the body on the ground. It was on the opposite side of the car from the approaching flashlight. The car hid the body, but it was still impossible to miss. Right out in the open.
He looked at his mom. She stared back, gave him a weak smile.
The flashlight finally reached them, and the person holding it stopped walking on the other side of the car, a few feet away. The light shone directly into his eyes and blinded him for a second. When his vision cleared, he could see there were two people behind the flashlight, not one. Both wore black sweatshirts. A man was on the left—tall and skinny, long hair, rough features, shivering from the cold, carrying a backpack in one hand. And a woman, standing beside him, looking so tired she could barely stand.
* * *
• • •
“Whatcha doing all the way out here?” the man asked. He set his backpack on the ground next to him—the top of the bag was open but Karen couldn’t see what was inside. He shone the flashlight at Joshua, then at Karen. She squinted and raised her hand to shield her eyes.
“Nothing,” she said.
“Nothing, huh? Came out to the middle of nowhere for the hell of it?”
“We’re just . . . camping,” she said.
“Where’s your tent?”
She pointed out at the forest. “Out there. My husband’s there.”
She didn’t know who these two people were, but she didn’t want them to know she and Joshua were out here alone. She had a bad feeling about the situation. The man was moving in the herky-jerky way of someone on amphetamines. When she first saw him, she thought he was shivering from the cold. That wasn’t it, though. His body was shaking because he was under the influence of something.
“Your husband, you say?” the man said.
She nodded. He shone the light down at her hand. “Don’t see no ring.”
“I’m not wearing it.”
The edge of his mouth curled into a sneer. “You’re a shit liar, you know that?”
The guy moved the light over to Joshua’s Altima, then to her Malibu. The hand holding the flashlight was trembling. She glanced down at the body. These two people still hadn’t seen it. They stood on the other side of Joshua’s car, looking at Karen and Joshua over the hood. The car blocked the body from being in their line of sight.
“Two pretty slick rides,” the man said. “They both yours?”
She nodded.
“Let’s see here.” He pointed back and forth between them. “Eeny, meeny, miny, mo.”
He kept his finger pointed at her car.
“We’ll take the Malibu.”
“Take it?”
“Yeah. Hand over the keys. Unless you got a problem with that.” The man reached down and lifted the hem of his hoodie. Even with the light partially blinding her, Karen could clearly see what was tucked into the waistband of his pants: a handgun. A big, black, nasty handgun.
Her breath caught in her throat.
“J-just take it,” she said, trying to keep her voice calm. She grabbed her keys from her pocket.
He turned to the woman.
“Go grab the keys, babe.”
The woman walked over to Karen.
“We don’t want any trouble,” she said. It was the first time she’d spoken. Her voice was quiet and frail, sounded like she was totally exhausted. She walked around the front of the car to grab the keys. She saw the body and froze. Stared down at it for a moment, focusing on it, then let out a startled yelp and backed away.
“What’s your problem?” the man said.
“There’s a . . . a body.”
The man walked around the car and shone his flashlight down at the body.
“What the . . .” He looked up at Karen. “What’s going on here?”
She and Joshua were silent. The man pulled the gun from his waistband.
“Answer me.”
“There was a car accident,” Joshua said.
“Fuck.” He shone the light down at the body. He kept shaking. Karen got a good look at his eyes and saw that his pupils were dilated. They were jumping around like crazy.
“Let’s go, Ross,” the woman said. “Let’s—”
“Don’t say my name,” he yelled.
“Let’s get out of here.” She grabbed the keys from Karen.
“I’m putting the bag in the car,” the woman said to the man—Ross. “Then we’ll leave.”
Ross was silent. He stared at the body, looked up at Karen and Joshua. The woman grabbed the backpack off the ground and carried it to Karen’s car. She placed it in the backseat.
“Let’s get out of here,” she said.
“Hold up,” Ross said. “We gotta do something about these two.”
Ross motioned the woman over to the side. They walked a few feet away from Karen and Joshua. Ross turned back and looked at them.
“Stay right there,” he said. “Don’t move.”
“Just leave,” Karen said. “We already reported the accident to the police. They’re on their way.”
He glared at her. “Already told you, you’re a shit liar. Stay there and shut up.”
* * *
Amber took a deep breath; she couldn’t believe any of this. She looked over at the two people. Must be a mom and her kid. She and Ross had moved a few feet away from them, out of their earshot. The body was s
till there, resting on the ground beside them. She was still rattled from seeing it. She’d never seen a dead body so close.
Ross was right beside her, pacing and mumbling to himself, everything at a faster speed than usual: cursing, sighing, twitching. His eyes were wide and frenzied. Nervous, fidgety movements. It was like his entire body was hypercharged.
“Let’s leave,” Amber said. “Now.”
“What about those two?” Ross said.
“We’ll leave them. Just forget them.”
“They know my name,” Ross said. His words were starting to slur. “They know what we look like.”
“Doesn’t matter. They don’t know where we’re heading. We’ll be long gone by the time they get to the police.”
“Bastards’ll probably try to blame us for the dead body.” He turned his head toward them. “Be much easier if we kill them.”
“Kill them?”
“Yeah. Kill them, we don’t have to worry about them describing us to the police, giving them my name, nothing like that.”
Ross reached into his pocket and grabbed the baggie of pills. She reached out and squeezed his hand before he could grasp one.
“Don’t,” she said. He was already wired. She didn’t want him clouding his judgment even more right now.
He yanked his hand out of hers. Grabbed a pill and popped it. Shoved the baggie back in his pocket.
“You can’t murder them, Ross,” she said.
“Watch me.”
She thought—hoped—the way Ross was talking was all an act. Hard talk. She wanted to believe that he was incapable of something so awful, but the drugs changed him, altered his personality. Turned him into someone who was colder, angrier.
She’d forgiven him for plenty over the years, but she couldn’t look past something like murder. That was just too much. If he crossed that line, she’d give up on him.
“Just calm down,” she said. “Just slow down for—”
“I’m gonna kill them.”
“No. Calm down. Just think about this.”
* * *
Karen and Joshua were a few feet away but she could hear the occasional word from Ross; his voice would rise to a near yell at times. Kill them—she’d heard that phrase a few times. As terrifying as the words were, it was the wild, unpredictable look in Ross’s eyes that truly scared her.
Kill them—he repeated the phrase.
“Mom,” Joshua whispered.
She looked at him, right beside her. He held his keys in his hand. He gestured to his car. About ten feet away from them.
“Let’s run,” he whispered.
She looked over at Ross. He was talking to the woman, gesturing wildly, the gun still in his hand. It looked like the woman was trying to calm him down. Ross grabbed a baggie of pills from his pocket and popped one. He kept talking in a raised voice, his words slurred.
The way he was talking and moving, she was positive if they stuck around there, he would kill them.
Karen looked at Joshua’s car, down at the keys in his hand.
No time to think. No time to debate.
She locked eyes with Joshua and held up three fingers.
Three.
She looked at Ross and the woman. They were still talking. Their backs weren’t fully turned to her and Joshua, but they were at an angle, she and Joshua not in their line of sight.
Two.
Karen tensed the muscles in her legs.
One.
They both sprinted to his car, covering the distance in only a few seconds. She threw open the passenger door and collapsed into the front seat. Joshua ran around the car, tumbled into the driver’s seat, and fired up the engine.
She heard Ross yell out: “Shit!”
He sprinted over to the car, arms pumping, still holding the gun. Ross jumped onto the hood just as the car started reversing.
He yelled at them through the windshield.
Karen screamed.
Joshua yanked the steering wheel to the right, to the left, trying to throw him off the hood. The car swerved and veered but Ross stayed on, one hand gripping the edge of the hood, the other holding the gun.
The crack of a gunshot rang out.
Karen screamed again.
More gunshots. One right after another they came, three or four shots in the span of a few seconds. As Ross shot the gun, Joshua kept swerving and reversing, causing the gun to fire waywardly, off to the side and into the air.
And then Ross pointed the gun downward and fired. The car rocked to one side and started wobbling and shaking, slowing down.
The tire—he’d shot out the tire.
Ross braced himself on the hood and pointed the gun right at Joshua through the windshield. Joshua slammed on the brakes and the car stopped reversing. Ross jumped off the hood.
“Out of the car!” he screamed.
Karen and Joshua stepped outside. Her heart was thundering.
Ross’s eyes, wild and frantic, moved between them. He moved the gun to Joshua, pointed it back at her.
“Calm down,” Karen yelled.
Ross pointed the gun at her, at Joshua. He screamed something that was so jumbled it was incomprehensible.
Before anything more happened, a barely there voice spoke.
“Help.”
* * *
It took Amber a moment to realize she’d been shot.
Standing off to the side, she’d watched Ross run over, jump onto the car, and start shooting, the arm holding the gun flailing around as he tried to balance himself on the hood as the car swerved. A moment later, she felt it in her stomach. Not pain, really. Just a warm sensation, a low-burn heat.
She looked down and saw that her black sweatshirt was damp. She patted her stomach and looked at her hand. It was covered in blood.
Right then, the pain hit. It was sharp and sudden. She fell to her knees. Opened her mouth but no words came.
Everything started to spin. Through her hazy vision, she saw the car come to a stop. Ross jumped off the hood. The car doors opened and the kid and the mom got out.
Everyone began yelling. Ross waved the gun around, moving it between the two of them.
Amber opened her mouth again. This time, she spoke a single word.
“Help.”
* * *
Karen watched Ross sprint over to the wounded woman. He dropped to his knees and held her in his arms. He brought his face close to hers and started speaking in a low voice.
“What is it?” he said.
“Sh-shot,” she said.
“What?”
“Shot. Stomach.”
He brushed his hand against her sweatshirt. Blood smudged onto his hand.
He held her in his arms and continued talking in a low voice, barely above a whisper; his words were so quick and jumbled Karen couldn’t tell what he was saying.
She looked at Joshua. Standing on the other side of his car. The front of the car sagged to the right from the flat tire.
Ross suddenly went silent. He snapped his head toward them and his eyes locked on Joshua. He stood up and took a step toward them.
“You asshole,” he said.
“Stop!” Karen said.
“You stupid asshole.”
She screamed for him to stop again, but he ignored her. Another step. His eyes, burning, intense, stayed on Joshua. The hand holding the gun was shaking and trembling.
“I’m a nurse,” Karen said. “I can help her.”
Ross looked over.
“If I can slow the bleeding, I can help her. But you need to calm down. Please.”
He nodded to her. Karen ran over to the woman and dropped to her knees. The woman’s eyes were closed. Karen lifted her sweatshirt. There was a gunshot wound just to the left of her stomach. Blood was everywhere. Karen
applied pressure. The woman’s eyes stayed closed but she winced. A reaction.
From behind her, Ross’s rough voice: “Does it hurt?”
Karen turned and looked at him.
“You have to call nine-one-one,” she said.
“No,” Ross said. “No cops.”
“Then take her to a hospital. Leave with her. She has to get this looked at right away.”
“So you can call the cops when we leave? No way.”
“No, we—”
“Shut up.”
Ross ran his hands through his hair. Shook his head. Mumbled to himself. There was a look of wild desperation in his eyes. He glanced at Joshua’s car, leaning to the side from the flat tire. He glanced at her Malibu, thirty feet or so from Joshua’s car.
“You take her,” he said to Karen.
“What? No. I’m not leaving my son here. I can’t—”
“Take her—now!” he screamed. He gestured toward Joshua with the gun. “He’s staying here. You try anything, he gets a bullet. My wife dies, he gets a bullet. You go to the cops or tell anyone, he gets a bullet. I’m not fucking around here.”
He bent over the woman and fished inside her pants pockets. He grabbed a set of keys from inside. The keys to Karen’s car.
He threw them at Karen and they landed at her feet. “The keys to that car,” he said, pointing at her car. “Put her inside and go.”
Karen’s ears were ringing. She felt like she was trying to process a million things at once. Everything was happening so quickly.
“Go!” he yelled. “Now!”
She grabbed the keys and walked over to the injured woman. She wrapped a hand around her back and helped her stand up and walk over to her car. She opened the rear door and laid her down in the backseat. She ran around the car and sat in the driver’s seat. Ross ran over and leaned into the backseat.
“Babe, you’re going to be fine,” he said, squeezing her shoulders. His voice was calmer now, not as frantic. Almost soothing.
The woman weakly nodded.