CHAPTER 22
The odds just got worse. Any minute now, one opponent will become two.
Two men who have their freedom, my firearm, and probably not a lot to lose, whereas I have a throbbing headache that’s growing worse by the second.
Hindered reaction times. Two terrified girls and endless miles to cover to get back to civilization.
I have to try and gain the upper hand before things get any worse.
“I could take the girls. Get them back home. Return them to their parents.” I speak quickly, knowing that I’m running out of time.
“No way. You’d tell the police. Show them where to find me.”
“That’s not true. None of us want to hurt you or get you in trouble. We could leave and it would be like we were never even here. Isn’t that right, girls?”
“Yes.”
“She’s right.”
His eyes yoyo between me and the door as the noise outside grows louder.
“Please. I can tell you’re a good guy. I know you don’t want to see anyone get hurt.”
His Adam’s apple bobs, the knobby bone thrusting against the skin of his throat as he swallows hard.
“You could come with us, if you’d like. I don’t have much, just a small home, but you could live there with me. I could take care of you.”
The engine falls silent.
“Really?”
“Really.” I give him the best smile I can muster.
“Why would you do that?”
“Because I… I’m lonely. And it’s nice to have someone to share things with. Don’t you think?”
My heart hammers so hard that my chest feels bruised by it. Each surge of blood it sends into my veins makes the pounding in my head worse. The pain is overwhelming, the dizziness so bad that I worry I might pass out.
But I need to find a way to get the girls out of here, first. Whatever it takes.
“Maybe.”
I stretch my fingers toward him again. Wiggle them with a hopeful look, praying he’ll reach out and take them. But as the sound of steps approaches the door behind me, and he scoots farther away from me across the floor, I know I’ve lost the battle.
“What’s going on here?”
Danielle whimpers. Fresh tears cut tracks through the dirt on Amelia’s face. Both of them shrink back, pressing themselves against the wall.
“Worm?”
“I… I had to. She was going to find us and turn us in.”
The man behind me curses. There’s something familiar about it.
“Your brain’s fried, you know that?”
“I’m sorry, Skunk. Really.”
“You should be. I told you to take care of the other two while I was gone. Instead, you went and made it worse.”
“I didn’t mean to.” Worm gets to his feet, wringing his hands. “Did I really make it worse?”
“Yes!” the other man snarls. “I swear, you’re the dumbest—I mean, what were you even thinking?”
I shoot a quick glance at the girls. Amelia’s eyes look over my head at the arguing men as she mouths almost.
Slowly, I start unraveling my wrists from the pack straps.
“What are we supposed to do with them?”
“Maybe they could take care of us?” Worm offers hopefully.
“Maybe they could take care of us,” Skunk mocks in a falsetto.
Then, in a much deeper voice, one that makes my skin tighten on my bones and sends a fresh surge of adrenaline into my veins, he growls, “Where’d you get that gun?”
“She had it.”
I force my face into the most pitiful expression I can muster. It doesn’t take much work.
“Who, her? Hey, new girl.”
I turn my head slowly until I’m looking over my shoulder. The last shred of hope I’d been holding onto vanishes instantly.
“You!”
The hand strikes out faster than my addled brain can follow.
I yelp as I’m yanked to my feet, my shoulder feeling like it just tore from its socket as gravity and the weight of my pack jerk it in the other direction.
I manage to catch it before it drops and reveals that my hands aren’t bound anymore, though the fingers digging deep into my muscles makes it hard to hold on.
“You know her?” Worm’s voice is pure disbelief.
“That’s the chick who screwed me up at the pharmacy.
If it wasn’t for her, I’d have got the stuff to give to Dave for him to cook us up a batch.
” He glares at me in a way that makes my breath catch as he says, “She’s the reason why you’re feeling so bad right now, man.
And why you’re tearing yourself to shreds. That’s gross. Stop it.”
Reaching out, he smacks Worm’s hand as he digs at a sore on his arm.
“What’s she doing out here?”
“That’s a very good question.”
The man called Skunk snatches my gun from Worm’s hand.
He racks the slide. The round that was already chambered ejects.
But I know that the moment he released it, another moved to take its place, which makes it that much harder for me to maintain my courage as he shoves the barrel against my forehead.
“And you better have a very good answer,” he threatens me.
I straighten my spine. Lift my chin. Force the fear from my eyes as I meet his gaze.
“Is that a raccoon?”
“Ricky!” Worm’s head whips around as he looks for the animal.
Skunk’s focus shifts for only an instant, but it’s all I need. I swing my arms, hitting his gun hand with the full weight of my pack. The weapon fires, splinters spraying from a hole near the ceiling as I yell to the girls, “Run!”
Lowering my shoulder, I ram it into the man, using my momentum to slam him into the wall as I reach for the firearm with both hands. But my coordination is off, my movements too slow. His elbow catches me in the temple, right in the fluid-filled bruise left by the baseball bat.
I collapse to the floor like a puppet with its strings cut.
My vision goes in and out of focus. In, Worm staring at me in horror, his hands curled into fists against his mouth.
Out, darkness. In, the sleeping bag where the girls had been, now empty.
Out, darkness. In, a fist, letters I can’t read tattooed below each knuckle zooming toward my face. Then there’s nothing but the darkness.