Get Me

by Jillian Dodd

  "It's been quite a few years but, yes."

  "So, in the original, Vince was the killer. He had a major crush on Lacey--Mom's character--and it was his house on the lake. At the end, you figure out he's the bad guy because he tries to kill Matt, who is Lacey's boyfriend. You think Matt is dead and Vince is being all creepy and trying to get Lacey. You find out that he wants Matt gone because he wants Lacey to go on a semester abroad with him. But Matt staggers back up, kills Vince, saves the day, and rides off with the girl."

  "How is the new script different?"

  "Well, first of all, it's set on a beach, not a lake. Vince now has a dog, which is a classic writer's trick for making a bad character more lovable. The big twist, though, is that Vince kidnaps Matt, kills everyone, frames Matt for the murders, has him arrested in front of Lacey, and when the police take him away, Vince professes his love to Lacey and they kiss. The end. The bad guy gets the girl. Bring on the sequel."

  "And you think his script translates to real life?"

  "Yes, I think Vincent thinks the movie is real life. He told me he had the dog and he had Matt."

  "So you think he's going to kill people and set Brooklyn up to take the fall?"

  "Yes."

  "And then he's going to ride off into the sunset with you?"

  "Something like that, yes."

  "Do you still think he'll kill you?"

  "If he does, I think he'll kill himself too. Just know that no matter what the evidence looks like, Brooklyn didn't do it."

  "Got it. Now get some sleep."

  SATURDAY, JANUARY 7TH

  Just me.

  Noon

  I'm in my room, packing a few things in my backpack. I stop to run my hand across the prefect badge on the shirt that's still lying on my bed, trying not to cry. I wish I was coming back to use it.

  I shake my head and focus on the task at hand.

  Then I go meet Dallas. He's walking with me to the chapel, where we'll sneak down to Stockton's.

  Riley and Aiden went into town to get pizza, so I have a small window of opportunity to stash my backpack down there without anyone knowing I'm planning to leave tonight.

  "You're not thinking of running away, are you?" Dallas asks.

  I hate to lie to him, but I do. I hold up my backpack and say, "I'm taking this down there, just in case."

  "Just in case what?"

  "Garrett reneges on his promise. We agreed to seven days. But I can see him trying to keep me here longer than that."

  "And if he does?"

  "Then I'll sneak out of Stockton's, go home, and try to find Brooklyn myself."

  "Ugh," Dallas says.

  I turn around and see him crumpled on the ground. "Dallas! Are you--"

  "Keatyn!" I hear Cooper yell.

  As I turn toward his voice, a booming sound assaults my ears. I watch in horror as Cooper takes two bullets to the chest and falls to the ground.

  And I know.

  Vincent is here.

  A strong arm wraps tightly around my neck, choking me. "Eastbrooke Homecoming Court, huh?" Vincent says. "Congratulations."

  Oh my god. I forgot all about the Homecoming Court sash that's been hanging off my bedpost since October. He must have seen it during our video call last night. I was so focused on trying to find a clue on his screen that I never even looked at mine.

  I'm an idiot. I led him straight to the one place I wanted so badly to protect.

  "This looks like a fancy place," Vincent continues, "but their security is pretty lax. I drove right through. I mean, after I shot the three guards."

  Ohmigawd.

  He's going to shoot anyone who gets in his way.

  I have to get him out of here--and fast.

  "Where's Brooklyn?" I ask him.

  "He's fine. A little tied up at the moment," he says again with a maniacal laugh, pressing a gun into the small of my back and pushing me toward a white delivery van.

  "You don't have to push me, Vincent. I want to come with you."

  "Don't move," he says, keeping the gun trained on me while he lifts Dallas up and puts him in the back of the van.

  I've got to convince him not to take Dallas, I think, as I'm hit on the back of the head and everything goes black.

  Riley

  Aiden and I picked up a bunch of pizzas and are turning into the Eastbrooke driveway when a white delivery van barrels around the corner, almost hitting us.

  "What the hell?" Aiden yells.

  "Wonder what delivery he needs to make in such a big hurry?" My phone rings with a call from Dawson. I answer it as Aiden flips a U-turn. "What's up, bro?"

  "Keatyn and Dallas were just kidnapped! Thrown in the back of a white van! The guy shot Cooper when he tried to stop it!"

  "A white van almost hit us . . . Wait!" I see that, somehow, Aiden already knew. He's racing down the road. But I still say, "That delivery van. Keatyn and Dallas are in there. Kidnapped. Cooper shot!"

  I know what I say doesn't make a lot of sense, but I'm all hyped up. Panicked. "Follow them! We can't lose them!"

  "Tell me what happened!" Aiden yells as he's gunning the engine and slamming through the gears.

  I plug my phone into Aiden's car, so we can both hear Dawson.

  "Dawson, you're on speaker. Tell us what happened."

  "All I know is I heard gunfire, ran toward it, saw Cooper hit the ground. Dallas was already down. The guy was talking to Keatyn. He held a gun on her as he put Dallas in the van and then hit her on the back of the head with the gun, threw her in the back, and took off. Brooke called 911 and the school is on lockdown."

  "He got a head start on us, but we'll catch him if we go the right way," I say to Aiden.

  "We have to go the right way," Aiden replies. "Think. Where would he take them?"

  "Keatyn was going back to Malibu tonight to find Brooklyn."

  "What do you mean? They wouldn't let her leave."

  "She found a secret way out of school through Stockton's."

  "Was she going to tell me?" He stops staring at the road and turns to me, fire in his eyes. "Were you going to tell me? Were you going to let her go?"

  I hang my head a little. "I was going with her."

  Aiden shakes his head. "She said he wanted to film a movie with her. The script she got was set in California. She didn't think he'd hurt Brooklyn until after they filmed the movie. So, if she was right, he'd take her back to California. So the airport?"

  "I think so, but the highway's right there!" I point to the turn off, which we are closing in on way too fast. "Slow down!"

  Aiden handles his car perfectly, tapping the brakes, and then veering us onto the highway.

  He barely even slowed down.

  Fuck if I'm not impressed with his driving skills.

  "We have a problem," Aiden says. "I'm almost out of gas."

  "Then we have an even bigger problem," I tell him. "Keatyn may not have on her tracking necklace. She didn't want anyone to know when she'd left. God, why did I go along with her plans?"

  "Because you're a good friend," Aiden says. "But we can't worry about that now. We've got to find that van or they'll both be dead. They've been searching for Brooklyn for three days with no luck."

  "We can't call Cooper. He got shot. I don't have Garrett's number. Do you?"

  I watch as Aiden takes one hand off the wheel and runs his finger over the clover keychain Keatyn gave him. When I look back at the road, I see it in the distance, up ahead.

  "The van!" we both yell at the same time.

  "Get close to it so we can get the license plate. I'm calling Senator McMahon."

  "You know he didn't come for Dallas."

  "It doesn't matter who he wanted. Kidnapping Dallas was the wrong move."

  The senator answers his private line after a few rings.

  "Riley," he barks. "This is the number you are supposed to call only in an emergency."

  "It is an emergency, sir. Dallas and Keatyn have been kidnapped from Eastbrooke
and are in the back of a white van. A teacher was shot."

  "I need to make a call on the other line. Hold on."

  "Grab my phone," Aiden says. "Take a picture of the back of the van and the license plate."

  "Are you sure it's the same van?"

  "Yep. It says Charlie's Produce on it. But, look, there's no plate."

  "Riley," Mr. McMahon's voice booms through Aiden's speakers. "I have the Service on the line. Did the van leave school? Do you know what direction it was headed? License plate? Description of the assailant?"

  "We're following the van right now. Keatyn usually wears a tracking device, but we don't know if she has it on. We need to reach Garrett Smith, but don't have his phone number. We believe the kidnapper is Vincent Sharpe, Keatyn's stalker; the guy from the club in Miami. But we're not sure."

  "Doesn't matter who or why, son. We need to get them. Where are you?"

  I give him the mile marker of the highway we're traveling on. "If it is Vincent, we think he will be headed to an airport, but we don't know which one."

  "Help is on the way, boys. Don't lose the van. What are you driving?"

  "White Maserati," I say. "California plates: Golf, Oscar, Alpha, Lima, India, Echo, One."

  "We can't keep up this speed," Aiden says frantically. "I'm burning through fuel. We're going to have to do something else."

  "Like what?"

  "Hit them," he says.

  "Hit them? This car against a full-sized van? It will crumple."

  "I sat in on a stunt planning meeting while Keatyn was filming. They talked about what would happen in real life as opposed to what would happen in the movie. I'm going to do the stunt. I'll speed past him. Double back. T-bone the driver's door."

  "You'll kill us. Them too, probably."

  "Not if I do it right. And we don't have another option. The cops aren't here. The feds aren't here. It's just him and us. Besides, we have airbags, right?"

  "I'm more worried about my head."

  "Helmets!" he yells. "Keatyn bought them for my birthday. They're behind the seat."

  I strap on a helmet, then hold the wheel while Aiden does the same.

  "You look ridiculous," I tell him. "I totally have to record this."

  I grab my video camera out of my pocket and mount it to the dash. "One DashCam coming up."

  After getting it in place and hitting record, I'm feeling claustrophobic. "This must be her helmet. It's too tight."

  "It will protect your head. That's all that matters. Okay, so I'm going to speed way up. Pass them. Come back. We'll time it so we hit the driver's door."

  "Where the hell is the Secret Service? In Miami, they were there in minutes."

  "It's just us, Riley," Aiden says solemnly. "And I'm on fumes. Just before we hit, I want you to pull the emergency brake. It'll spin us around and we'll hit him with the back of the car. It will protect us."

  "Do you think you can do that? Drive right into the side of it?"

  "I don't have a choice. Here we go."

  Aiden pushes the pedal down, slamming through the gears.

  We pass the van.

  Trees and power poles fly by us.

  "How far do we have to go before we turn back?"

  Aiden's screeching brakes are the answer to my question. He flips the car around and drops the clutch.

  Then it's rev the motor, shift, rev, shift, rev, shift.

  "140!" Aiden yells.

  "160!" I yell back. "What's her top speed?"

  "Stock is 185, but I have a chip. I've never tested it, but they say it'll go 200. Just pray we don't blow a tire."

  "Oh, great. Like we need something else to worry about. This is like one of those math problems. A car is traveling toward you at 70 mph. You're going the opposite direction at 190 mph. If you want to hit the van, when should you cross the median?"

  "You know the answer?"

  "No. I suck at math. The van is getting closer. Now!" I scream.

  Aiden cranks the wheel.

  "Ahhh!!!" I scream again as we bear down on the van.

  Just when I recognize the driver as the guy from the club in Miami, Aiden yells, "Pull it, Riley! Pull it!"

  I wait a heartbeat longer and then pull the emergency brake.

  Tires scream.

  Metal crunches.

  The car does a flat spin and we hit again.

  Get away.

  I'm disoriented and feel like I'm being tossed from one metal hand to another.

  I rub a bump on my head as I crash into something softer.

  Dallas.

  I quickly remember the events. Dallas falling to the ground. Cooper yelling my name. Vincent firing shots to his chest. Him going down. Vincent's voice behind me. Dallas being thrown into the van.

  Which, I'm pretty sure, is rolling.

  I hit my shoulder hard and hold on tight to Dallas, trying to cover his head with my arms. I feel his breath on my face, but he doesn't respond when I say, "Dallas, wake up."

  After what seems like an eternity, the van teeters to a stop.

  I hear Vincent moan.

  Somehow, I've got to get Dallas away from him. So he doesn't shoot him like he did Cooper.

  Poor Cooper.

  I relive the moment. The noise. Cooper's body thrown back when the bullets hit him.

  I want to cover my head and bawl. I can't believe he's dead because of me.

  He was more than a bodyguard.

  He was my friend.

  I shake my head to clear it and everything he taught me rushes into my brain.

  I need an advantage. A weapon.

  Anything.

  The van is completely empty in the back. Just me and Dallas surrounded by white metal and gray carpet.

  Vincent has switched from moaning to cursing.

  And I can tell he's pissed even though I can't understand what he's saying.

  He must've been driving too fast and crashed.

  I hear a slicing sound and the pop of what I assume is the airbag.

  Meaning he's got a knife.

  Wrists. Face. Crotch.

  Disable him.

  Get the gun.

  Grab Dallas.

  Get away.

  But then how will I find B?

  My head is throbbing. My shoulder is sore.

  Think, Keatyn.

  New plan.

  Get the gun. Use it to make Vincent tell me where B is.

  My eyes are darting across the van, looking for something to use as a weapon, when I spy my backpack. Dallas and I were headed to Stockton's so I could drop it off. So it would be ready when I left tonight.

  And there's something heavy in it, I remember.

  The rock Avery gave me!

  I slowly inch toward it, hoping Vincent can't hear me moving.

  Cooper always said to use the element of surprise whenever possible. He said the fact that I'm a girl adds an element of surprise in and of itself. That a man wouldn't expect me to be a threat.

  Maybe if I pretend to still be knocked out.

  I look toward the windshield. It's smashed and, based on the fact that the trees are pointing the wrong direction, I determine that the van is lying on its side.

  Vincent yells loudly, crawling toward me. "Keatyn! Are you okay?"

  I keep my eyes shut as he touches my temple and cries out, "You're bleeding!"

  I'm bleeding?

  I will myself not to open my eyes.

  "Abby," he says, and he does something I totally don't expect. He pulls me into his lap and caresses my face. But then he slaps me, causing my eyes to involuntarily open.

  I assess his condition.

  His pupils are huge. His face is banged up. A gash above his eye is bleeding. And, most importantly, there's neither a knife nor a gun in his hands.

  I punch him right in the face.

  He backs up, surprised, but quickly recovers.

  He pounces on top of me, grabbing my wrist and ripping off my wish bracelet in the process.

  I l
ook at the little seashells--my hopes and dreams of getting my life back--scattered across the floor.

  A moment of panic takes hold as the reality of what Vincent has already accomplished sets in.

  He has Brooklyn and no one can find him.

  I reach for my locket, grasping it and praying the cavalry is on the way.

  But with the gunshots, the school would have immediately gone on lockdown.

  How long would it take for them to realize we're missing?

  "What's that?" Vincent says, taking the necklace out of my hand, ripping it off me, and tossing it aside. "That's not from wardrobe. You can't wear it."

  "But . . ."

  He gives me a smug grin as he grabs my free hand, then pins my arms above my head.

  "It's just you and me now, Lacey," he says, reciting a line from A Day at the Lake. "You want this as badly as I do, don't you?"

  He's lost it. He doesn't even know who I am.

  I definitely pushed him completely over the edge.

  I close my eyes, relaxing like Cooper taught me to do in a situation like this.

  But then I decide to take a different approach first.

  Because if it's a scene from the movie he wants then that's what he's gonna get.

  "I changed my mind, Vincey," I say the lines I read last night in his new script.

  "No! Don't give me that bullshit," he says, reciting the next line. "Matt changed your mind! You came crying to me about it! I told you to figure it out."

  Even though he's acting pissed, his hold on me has completely relaxed.

  It's time.

  I knee him in the crotch with as much force as I can muster then grab my backpack and swing it into the side of his head.

  The force of the blow knocks him off me.

  I move quickly, knowing I need to get Dallas out of here. I don't want him to become Matt or dead partier number whatever in this crazy charade.

  I kick the van's back door open.

  Vincent sits up.

  Just like in the original movie.

  He's beaten, bruised, broken, and he still keeps getting up.

  But that's good, because I have to get him to tell me where the hell he's keeping B.

  Vincent grabs my hair, pulling me back into the van and causing the doors to swing shut.

  "No! Don't give me that bullshit," he says, repeating the line. "Matt changed your mind! You came crying to me about it! I told you to figure it out."

  I manage to flip my body around, kicking Vincent's arm in the process.

  "Ow! Fuck!" he yells. "Abby, stop it. Stop screwing around! You aren't being very professional."