Chapter 12
Maggie was incredibly uncomfortable being handcuffed to the door. She couldn’t really see much to her left, but she had a good view of the sideview mirror. She stared at it, watching the Cincinnati skyline grow smaller and smaller in the distance.
But even though she had escaped the danger of the city, and she was currently stuck in this truck with a murderer, she would have done anything to go back into that chaos and madness to save her son.
“Are you hungry?” Dillon asked.
Dillon hadn’t said a word since they’d left the city, and the way he brought up getting food was so casual Maggie almost didn’t notice.
“Are you hungry?” Dillon asked, repeating himself slower.
Maggie shot him a look, unsure if this was some kind of a joke.
“Relax, it’s not a trap,” Dillon answered. “It’s a question.”
Maggie had not followed the news about who this man was, but she had already noticed how his personality flipped like a switch. One moment, he was a killer, and the next, he was casually asking her for some food.
“I want to leave,” Maggie said.
“Well, that’s not an option,” Dillon said, and he sighed. “There has to be a place with food somewhere.”
They drove a few more miles, and Dillon said nothing as he glanced along the side of the road.
Maggie didn’t know what he was trying to play out, what he really wanted.
It was clear to her he didn’t care about people, no matter how much he pretended to be charismatic.
He was a sociopath, and if Maggie wanted to survive, she needed to escape.
“Ah, that looks promising,” Dillon said.
They pulled over to an old-school retro diner. The sharp chrome exterior reflected the hot afternoon sun. The parking lot was full, all the cars disabled, just like the ones they’d seen on the street.
Dillon parked in the back of the lot near the road. He positioned the car toward the exit so they could make a quick getaway if needed.
Maggie stared at the windows, but the reflection was so bad it was impossible to see inside or if anyone was looking at them.
Because Maggie’s hands were cuffed low on the door, they were concealed by the truck’s dashboard. But before she considered screaming for help, Dillon turned her head toward him.
“This is what’s going to happen when we enter the diner,” Dillon said. “If you make any sudden moves or if you try to leave or try to tip off anybody or you tell anybody who I am, then I’m going to kill one person in that diner. And I’m going to make you pick who I shoot.”
This entire situation was completely surreal. Of all the people Dillon could have taken as a hostage, it was her.
“I’m going to need a verbal yes,” Dillon said.
“Yes,” Maggie answered.
Dillon smiled. He was still sporting that charismatic face. The one that hid all the evil that lurked behind those dark eyes.
Dillon leaned closer, never breaking eye contact with Maggie, and he unlocked her handcuffs. She almost sighed in relief, but she didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.
“Remember the deal,” Dillon said.
Maggie had no intention of getting anybody killed, but she knew she wasn’t going to let this opportunity pass her up. There would be no better time for her to escape than now. She just had to make sure she played her cards right.
When Dillon and Maggie entered the diner, the air was hot and stale and smelled of fryer grease.
She also noticed how every pair of eyes was upon them.
She was surprised so many people were waiting inside.
Considering how hot the afternoon sun was going to make this metal diner, she wondered how long they would last.
“Afternoon!” Dillon said, smiling. “My friend and I were hoping for some lunch.”
An older woman dressed in a waitress’s uniform walked over with a notepad and a pen. “Power’s off, but we still have our cook out back on the propane grill. Most of the menu’s still available, for now at least.”
“Where can we sit?” Dillon asked.
“Anywhere you like,” the woman answered.
“Right, thanks,” Dillon said, and then Maggie flinched as Dillon placed his hand on the small of her back and whispered in her ear, “No sudden moves.”
Maggie picked a booth next to the window so she could see outside. She made sure to sit opposite Dillon so they wouldn’t have to sit next to each other. But the moment they sat down, a nearby patron sparked up a conversation.
“How did you get your truck to work?” The man who turned around on the barstool at the diner bar was overweight with suspenders holding up his pants. He was middle-aged and wore thick glasses.
“I couldn’t tell you,” Dillon answered. “I’ve never been much of a handyman. I just know when I walked out after the power went out, my truck was one of the few still working.”
“All of us have been trying to figure out what’s been going on,” the man said. “We didn’t know if you heard about anything. We saw you were coming from the city.”
“The city’s not doing well,” Maggie said, interjecting before Dillon could reply.
“I have a son there,” the man said wearily. “I can’t stop thinking about him. It’s funny; we both have cell phones, but we hardly talk. And the one time I’d give anything to hear his voice, I can’t do anything about it.”
“I’m sorry,” Maggie said.
“Did you two have family back in the city?” he asked.
“Yes,” Maggie answered.
“Unfortunately, we had to leave them behind, though,” Dillon said, retaking control of the situation. “But we’ll be back for them soon enough.”
Maggie noticed the threatening tone Dillon used as he stared at her. He was clearly making a threat to go back and hurt Blake, but Maggie had a feeling that John had already gotten to him by now. At least that was what she hoped.
The waitress returned and took their orders. Maggie wasn’t hungry, but she knew she should eat. She ordered a turkey sandwich, and Dillon ordered the meatloaf platter.
“It’ll be a little different because of the grill, but we should be able to heat it up just fine,” she said.
“I’m sure it will be delicious,” Dillon replied.
The waitress was about to turn away, but she stopped and focused on Dillon. “Do I know you?”
“I don’t think so,” Dillon answered. “Not unless we went on a date once.”
The waitress laughed and then playfully hit his arm. Then she looked back at Maggie. “Better be careful with this one.”
“Oh, I will,” Maggie said.
Once the waitress was gone, Maggie started to get up, but Dillon grabbed her arm and stopped her.
“Where are you going?” Dillon asked.
“I need to go to the bathroom,” Maggie answered.
Dillon leaned closer to Maggie across the table and dropped his voice to a whisper.
“Are you trying to start trouble?” Dillon asked.
Some of his playfulness vanished, and that darkness crept into the corners of his eyes.
“Remember what I told you. You try anything stupid, then I make you pick the person I kill in this diner. And take a nice look around because there are plenty of good people for you to choose.”
Maggie wanted to scream for help then and there, but she didn’t because she had to play this smart. “I remember,” Maggie said.
Dillon finally let her go, but he’d squeezed so tight he left finger marks on her skin. She didn’t say anything else as she walked to the bathroom. She entered the woman’s room and then shut and locked the door.
The moment she was alone, Maggie sprang into action. She saw the window above the toilet. It was narrow, but she believed she could squeeze her way through.
Maggie stood on top of the toilet tank and struggled to open the window. It was much harder for her to open than she had anticipated. The hinges were rusted, and she couldn’t move it more than a few inches. But she knew the longer she waited, the more Dillon would grow suspicious.
When Maggie finally opened the window wide enough for her to slide through, she heaved herself up onto the windowsill and pulled herself through the opening, planting her hands on the outside wall as she forced her way through.
Her back and stomach scraped against the old aluminum window, and she tumbled headfirst onto the dirt outside.
Maggie was disoriented from the fall, but she stood up quickly, knowing she was already running on borrowed time.
She sprinted toward the back of the diner, wanting to put as much distance between herself and Dillon as she could muster, but she never made it more than three steps before a rough hand was on her arm, yanking her backward.
“No!” Maggie screamed, and she turned sharply, swinging her right hand to get ready to strike her attacker’s head, but Dillon was too fast.
Dillon pinned her up against the diner wall, out of sight of the patrons, using his size and strength to keep her immobile. “I warned you not to do anything stupid,” Dillon growled. “Now, you’ll have to make someone else pay the price.”
Maggie screamed again, but she wasn’t going down without a fight. Maggie managed to kick her leg back up behind her and struck Dillon’s groin. She wasn’t sure if she made direct contact or not, but the blow was enough to at least send him backward a few steps.
Maggie spun around, capitalizing on her attack, and struck Dillon in the throat. He gagged and hunched forward. Maggie then smashed her knee against his face, and she heard a hard crunch of cartilage and bone.
With Dillon practically immobile, Maggie reached for the gun in Dillon’s hand and tried to wrestle it free from him, but he was too strong.
He head butted Maggie in the forehead, knocking her down, and then quickly picked her up by her hair and dragged her back toward the diner’s entrance, the patrons watching from the window in stunned silence.
Dillon fired a shot at the diner window and the glass shattered.
Everyone in the diner screamed and ducked for cover, as Dillon pulled Maggie into the diner.
“I warned you, Maggie,” Dillon said, blood pouring from his nose and running over his lips and chin. “So, who is it going to be?”
Dillon aimed the weapon in a sweeping motion across the entire diner while everyone remained crouched under whatever cover they could find.
“Don’t do this,” Maggie said.
“Too late,” Dillon said. “You and I had a simple deal, and you couldn’t follow through with it. Now, who is it going to be?”
Maggie couldn’t answer the question. She saw a knife nearby, and in one last desperate attempt, she lunged for it, but Dillon easily snapped it out of her hand.
“Okay, then,” Dillon said. “We’ll do this another way. I’m going to shoot someone every five seconds until you point to someone. Starting now. One.”
Everyone in the diner shuttered, and a woman gasped.
“Two, three?—”
“Dillon, stop this!” Maggie shouted.
“Four, five—” Dillon then aimed the pistol at the nearest man and then pulled the trigger. The noise of the gunshot sounded so loud in the small diner, but it was almost drowned out by the collective scream from the patrons.
“One,” Dillon said. “Two. Three?—”
Maggie knew Dillon had more than enough bullets to kill everyone in the diner, so she had to make a choice. Either try to run and risk the lives of everyone else here or choose one to die.
“Four—”
“Okay!” Maggie shouted, and she stepped forward, moving into the line of fire. “Okay.”
Dillon’s face was nothing but rage. Maggie studied the faces around her. No one met her gaze, and she didn’t blame them. She could barely look any of them in the eye. But that was when an old man in the booth farthest from them stood up.
“Pick me,” he said.
The man’s hair and beard were snow white. He had a hunch in his upper back, and he wore a plaid shirt that was far too big on his thin frame. But when Maggie looked at him, there was no fear in his eyes.
“I didn’t expect this today,” the man said. “But I’ve lived longer than anyone here. Go on. Pick me.”
Maggie cried. She didn’t want to do this, but she knew Dillon wouldn’t stop until she did, so she slowly raised her finger and pointed at the old man.
“I’m sorry,” Maggie said.
The old man smiled. “It’s not your fault?—”
Dillon shot the man in the chest, and he immediately crumpled to the floor. And with that, Dillon calmly lowered his weapon and put his charismatic mask on again.
“Good,” Dillon said, and then, as if nothing had happened, he turned to the waitress who was hiding behind the diner counter. “We’ll need that food to go.”
The waitress looked at Maggie as if he were joking, but Maggie simply nodded, and then the waitress went back and packed up their food.
The rest of the diners were completely silent while they waited. Nobody moved, and the only sound in the diner was the muffled sobs of an older woman in the corner.
Once Dillon had his food, he forced Maggie to carry it as they walked back out to the truck. No one made a move to help Maggie, as she was once again abducted.
A small piece of Maggie had hoped that the group in the diner would band together, but no one came to her aid. Not that Maggie blamed them. In times of crisis, it was all that most people could do to stay alive.
It wasn’t until Maggie was back in the truck that she saw the blood on her stomach. At first, she thought it was from the dead man, but then she remembered how her body had scraped against the window in the bathroom on her escape.
“You should have just listened to me,” Dillon said. “I did tell you what would happen if you tried to run.”
“You should have killed me,” Maggie said.
“Maggie, if I had done that, then there wouldn’t have been a lesson for you to learn from,” Dillon said.
Maggie turned to Dillon, tears in her eyes. “You’re a madman.”
Dillon smiled. “Maybe, but those people are dead because of you. And that makes you a killer just like me.”
Dillon started the truck, and they drove off, leaving more blood and destruction in his wake. Maggie couldn’t help but wonder how much more death was waiting for her down the road.