Anguish Unfolds Page 4

  “What happened to him?” I whisper. “He wasn’t always this cruel and controlling.” I gulp, mentally cataloguing all the times Quinn pointed out Jim’s bad points. “Was he?”

  “After Dad died, he kinda decided he was in charge of everything,” Dan says, flicking his eyes back and forth between the floor and me. His words are shaky, and I sense that he worries I won’t believe him.

  “Dan, what happened?” I gently rest my hand on his arm. “It’s okay, you can tell me.”

  Water floods his eyes, but he manages to hold it there even when his words break. “Riley, we did some bad stuff.” He shakes his head and runs a hand through his hair. “I think the reason Jim was so hell-bent on leaving was because he didn’t wanna get caught.”

  I know what they did. They killed a neighbor at the trailer park and took her food. And I’m pretty sure they caught someone’s cat and cooked it for dinner. But I’m not about to admit that right now. I’m certain Dan wasn’t the driving force behind their vile actions.

  I proceed cautiously. “What did you do?” Just how honest will he be with me?

  Rolling his head back as if he’s in physical pain, he confesses every evil they’ve committed over the past few weeks.

  Chapter 11

  When the Highway One pileup first happened, Dan and Jim used their dirt bikes to check out the scene. Not knowing what to do upon seeing the overwhelming devastation, they kind of freaked out when random crash survivors pleaded for help.

  This led them to hide out at home for a few days. Not being prepared for an emergency situation, they had only so much food on hand.

  “We never set out to hurt anyone,” Dan says remorsefully. He avoids my eyes. “We started checking all the homes, to see which ones were empty and which had residents in them.” They focused on the empty trailers—ransacking them for supplies.

  One of the neighbors, Mrs. Adams, saw what they were doing. She confronted the guys, telling them she’d be calling the police as soon as the whole mess on the highway cleared up. Later that night, Jim went back to talk to Mrs. Adams, to try and convince her that they didn’t do anything wrong.

  The conversation went badly, and Jim’s anger vaporized any shred of self-control that he had. Before even realizing it, he grabbed a knife from the kitchen and threatened her. She fled to the bedroom, trying to lock herself inside.

  Jim gave chase and locked the door behind him, shutting Dan out.

  “I heard her scream,” he says, pressing a fist to his mouth. “I could tell they were struggling. He didn’t mean to hurt her. He just…lost it…lost control of himself. Since Dad died, he flies off the handle over stupid stuff.”

  Kind of ironic the guys called Aidan and Jeff rats for doing the exact same thing: looking around the trailer park for supplies. Well, except they didn’t hurt anyone in the process. In fact, Aidan and Jeff are the ones who warned us that we might not be safe at the trailer park. They found Mrs. Adams’ body when they were searching what they thought was an empty home.

  Dan continues, pulling my attention back to his explanation. The guys didn’t speak about what happened. Instead, they stayed glued to the TV, watching the news. Jim grew more paranoid with each passing day, sure he’d get caught for murdering Mrs. Adams. When the survivors had been removed from the wreckage and a minimal path was cleared, they ventured back out to the highway. Scouting, watching for a chance to disappear.

  When they did explore nearby towns, weaving between debris and highway damage on their road bikes, they didn’t find many businesses open. At that point, they heard about Dover Air Force Base being open to civilians, but they didn’t want to take a chance by staying that close. So they figured they’d go to Langley Air Force Base. No one in Virginia would connect them to a random murder in Delaware. Especially with all the chaos along the East Coast.

  Once they had a plan, Quinn and I stole their bikes. That one act changed the whole course of their plan. It didn’t take long for the guys to figure out that we were acting funny the night their bikes disappeared. The only possible lead they could think of was Jeff and Aidan. At one point, Dan and Jim had seen the guys sneaking around the trailer park and followed them back to their temporary home base, a nearby campground. With no other possibilities, they had nothing to lose by following their hunch. After downing a few beers to spark their imagination, they formulated a plan to get their bikes back.

  I take a few minutes of silence to process all that Dan’s shared. He wears a pained expression from admitting to things that clearly bothered him, but I press my luck while the flood gates are open.

  “Dan, why did you guys make me come with you?”

  “Hell,” he starts, heaving out a sigh. “Jim’s been in love with you for years. I think he thought you’d be fine if he could just get you away from Quinn. You know, that maybe you felt the same way about him but couldn’t show it in front of your sister.”

  My throat goes dry, forcing a gulp before any choked words will come out. The few bites of dehydrated eggs and potatoes I consumed are trying to climb their way back up my throat. Slowly shaking my head, I murmur, “But to not even give me a choice—”

  A creaking door startles us both silent. Jim’s back.

  Chapter 12

  Ignoring us, Jim slinks up to the front of the RV and roots around the dashboard and glove compartment.

  My wide eyes meet Dan’s and he whispers, “Don’t say a word. I’m gonna get you outta here, Riley.” With a pointer finger pressed to his lips, he makes a silent Shhh motion. Then, with one swift movement, he rises to his feet and starts toward his brother.

  “Either of you see keys for this beast around here anywhere?” Jim calls out. Dan looks to me, but I just shake my head.

  “No,” Dan says. “What’re you thinking?”

  Jim turns toward me, as if I’m no longer invisible. Resting one arm on the driver’s seat back, he smiles. “If we can get this thing running, why not take it the rest of the way? Sure beats the bikes. And if we run into any other weather, we can plow right through it.”

  “I think that’s a great idea,” Dan says a little too enthusiastically. I dumbly nod. While the RV does feel safe, definitely safer than the bikes, the last thing I want is to continue on this journey. I want to turn around right now and find Quinn. And, now that I know Dan is willing to help me, I’m even more anxious.

  Jim drops to his knees and reaches under the seats. A smile spreads across his face as he retracts an arm and waves his prize in the air: a shiny silver key dangling from a black carabiner clip.

  Inserting the key into the ignition, Jim gives us a confident smirk before twisting his wrist. The smirk disappears when the engine merely coughs out a low rattle.

  “Dammit!” Jim bellows. “No wonder someone just left it here. Damn thing doesn’t drive.” I exhale a silent sigh of relief.

  Dan approaches cautiously. “Do it again,” he says. Annoyed, Jim shoots him a death glare before twisting the key again. It gives the same result.

  Rubbing his chin, Dan wagers a guess. “You hear that faint clicking? It’s tryin’ to turn. Maybe we can just help it along.” Turning the key one more time, Jim tilts his head toward the engine, staring in concentration. Removing the key, a grin splays across his face.

  “You’re right, brother,” Jim says. “We may be in luck.” As Jim and Dan scramble out the door and start tinkering under the hood, I decide to explore my temporary home. The owners don’t seem to be coming back and if the guys can get this thing running, it’ll be crossing state lines. I don’t think Steve and Jamie will be seeing it again anytime soon.

  Sifting through the kitchen cabinets and drawers, I find nothing interesting. Wandering up to the front of the RV again, my eyes run across the driver and passenger seats. What could be hiding up here?

  Plopping into the passenger’s seat, I explore the console rising from the carpeted floor. Typical goodies are stashed in the various compartments—sunglasses, sunscreen, a change purse cramme
d with coins, a tissue pack. Just as my fingers brush against a cold smooth object, the door creaks open. I jerk my hand back instinctively.

  Jim appears, sliding into the driver’s seat. “What’re you doing?”

  Adopting an innocent expression, I lean back into the bucket seat. “Just looking around. Kinda boring, you know?”

  “Yeah, well you won’t be bored much longer,” he says proudly. “We almost got this thing fixed!” He inserts the key into the ignition and turns.

  Good for them. They can get this thing fixed and drive it to the ends of the Earth for all I care. I just want to be free.

  For a split-second it revs as if it’ll start. But just as quickly, it emits a stale clicking noise.

  “Dammit!” he barks. Shoulders slumped, he stomps back outside. Through the glass, I hear him and his brother arguing. Confident I have a few moments to myself, I reach back into the console, searching for my treasure.

  When my fingers clasp the cold steel, a surge of power thrums through my body. Maybe I can take care of myself.

  Chapter 13

  Eyeing the knife’s smooth black handle, I run a finger over the engraved monogram letters. SA. Must be Steve’s. Wherever you are, Steve, thanks for leaving your knife behind.

  Jerking my wrist, I flick the knife to free its blade. The worn edges and dings prove it’s lived a past life or two. When the guys slam the hood down, my fumbling fingers close the knife and shove it into my shoe. That always seems to work on TV.

  I jump to my feet just in time to greet Dan and Jim as they storm through the door. They charge right past me to the dashboard and jam the key into the ignition once more. This time, they erupt in congratulatory banter when the engine thrums to life. Jim revs the engine, and a loud roar announces that it’s awakened.

  “It was just some corroded battery terminals,” Jim says proudly. “Easy fix. And look at that,” he points toward the dashboard. “We got ourselves nearly a full tank of gas!”

  My eyes nervously shift to Dan. When he catches my expression, realization surfaces.

  “Hey Jim, what about the bikes? Should we try to load ‘em up in here and take ‘em with us? Or should we hide ‘em in the woods in case we decide to come back?” He’s stalling. He’s still willing to help me get away. This just may work if he can keep Jim busy for a few minutes. I have never felt so thankful for Dan.

  Jim scratches his chin. “We should probably hide them. I don’t want to drag them in here and take up all the space.” He lightly slaps Dan’s chest. “Come on, we’ll find someplace to put them for now…something we’ll be able to find again if we need to.” He throws me a sideways glance. “Don’t want someone finding them and taking what’s ours.”

  Quinn was right. He really is an ass. He plucked me right out of my life and he clearly has no guilt about that.

  “We’ll be back in a few minutes, Riley. Wanna see if there’s anything left to eat? I’m hungry as hell.” I guess he would be since he stomped off during breakfast.

  “Sure, Jim.” This is my chance. Dan’s distracting Jim so I can get away. As soon as the door slams shut behind them, I race between the kitchen and bedroom. My eyes scan for anything useful. I snag a pouch of beef jerky and a can of V8 juice. It sounds disgusting, but if I’m desperate, it’ll hold me over until I can do better. Dashing to the bedroom, I search the meager closet for a bag. I toss baseball caps and flip flops out of the way. No backpack, not even a flimsy plastic bag!

  This is taking too long. I just need to go! As I throw the few items I’ve gathered onto the bed, the happy camper pillow beckons me. That’s it! I yank the pillow free of its ridiculous case and toss my stolen belongings into it. Throwing it over my shoulder, I rush into the living room.

  I fumble mid-step when the squeaky door shoots open. Nearly crying out in defeat, my eyes widen in horror. The faces before me are not Dan’s and Jim’s. I’ve never seen these people before, and they don’t look friendly. I audibly gasp when three sets of eyes land on me.

  Chapter 14

  “Well, hello there,” the middle guy says, smirking. “Is this your place?” Shifting on my feet, terror flashes through my veins.

  “Well, um…” I don’t know what to say. Work, brain, work!

  “Or maybe you’re just here playing house,” another guy says, chuckling. Fear spikes along my spine. I struggle to draw in enough air. The walls seem to shift closer by the second. The already tight space is overtaken by these strangers.

  The third guy looks nervously between me and the others. He pushes wire-rimmed glasses up the bridge of his nose.

  “Guys, let’s just go,” he says meekly. Yeah, great idea. Listen to him!

  “Now just hold up, Alex,” the middle one says. He slicks his long dark hair back, out of his face. “I know I heard an engine start. And that’s exactly what we need right now.”

  The second guy takes a step toward me, eyeing me like I’m a lost child and he’s here to help. I guess he’s taking a different approach.

  “Hey, we didn’t mean to scare you,” he says. But you did and you’re still doing it. He places a hand on his chest, directly over the pocket on his navy t-shirt. “I’m Hunter and this is Dylan and Alex.” He points toward each in turn. He pauses, looking at me expectantly but I just stare at them mutely.

  “Our ride kinda broke down and we need some wheels. We’ve been hiking on foot for about a day and we were nearby…thought we heard an engine start…so we came to check it out and see if we could maybe hitch a ride.”

  Shifting uncomfortably, I’m acutely aware of the knife hiding in my shoe. The handle shifts, jabbing into my arch. I almost laugh. Even if I felt confident enough to bend down and dig the knife from my shoe, my shaky hands would never be able to flick the blade out.

  I open my mouth to respond but sound refuses to form. Muffled laughter invades the tense silence a moment before the squeaky door swings open again. I nearly crumple to the floor in relief.

  Jim’s eyes flutter over the scene before his face instantly transforms into a vicious snarl.

  For a moment the only sound is the rapid beating of my heart as it races out of control.

  “Who the hell are you?” he booms. I jump involuntarily, dropping the pillowcase of supplies I packed. The stupid V8 can tumbles out, rolling away until it bounces off the wall and sputters to a stop.

  Hunter raises his hands in surrender. “Let’s all calm down. We were just looking for some help.”

  Looking past all three strangers, Jim scrutinizes me. “You okay?” I nod quickly even though I’m anything but okay. He shifts his attention back to them.

  “We don’t have any help to give, so just be on your way. Now!” he says coldly. That earns him a smirk from the guy in the middle, who steps forward and makes introductions.

  “Look, I’m Dylan and this is my brother Alex.” He motions to the guy with glasses. “That’s Hunter.” He motions to the other guy. “So, is this thing yours?” he asks casually, waving his arms around the RV.

  I slowly shuffle toward the wall. I need it for support. Tuning out the conversation, I evaluate my options. If I could just get out now, everyone would be distracted. The only problem? Dylan, Hunter, and Alex stand between me and the door. Their position also separates me from Dan and Jim.

  Peering around my immediate surroundings, I search for ideas. The V8 can rests at my foot. Lot of good that’s gonna do. Maybe if I had stronger arm muscles, I could hurl it at the guys and just shoot past them. I bet Quinn would try it. My heart aches when I think of her. But there’s no time for that now.

  The borrowed knife lies in wait in my shoe. If I try to grab it, I’ll probably end up dropping it right at the strangers’ feet. I just can’t trust myself, and the last thing I want to do is give them a weapon. Dan and Jim are my only hope right now.

  My head feels like it’s caught in a vice and my vision blurs. Am I having a heart attack? How many times can my heart race in panic before it claims defeat? Rising tension,
and voices, pull me back to the situation unfolding before me.

  Before I know what’s happening, Dylan lunges forward and wraps an arm around me. Just as fast, he whips a glinting blade out of his pocket and presses it to my cheek. A slice of warmth trickles down my face as I stifle a sob.

  Chapter 15

  My whole body trembles as my eyes well with tears. Before the scene blurs out of focus, a glint of fear flashes in Jim’s dark eyes. Just as quickly, it shifts like quicksand into a layer of rage.

  I’m such an idiot. I’m too busy getting lost inside my own head to fully pay attention to the threat standing just three feet away. This is not a world I belong in. Nowhere is truly safe anymore.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Jim snarls. Dylan huffs out a sharp laugh, his hot breath spreading over my neck. He eyes each of his friends, slightly turning my body along with his.

  “I already told you what I’m doing,” he says, focusing his attention back on Jim. “We want this RV, so you need to Get. The. Hell. Out.”

  His agitated voice amplifies in the small space. Claustrophobia claws at my throat and lungs. I close my eyes while I attempt to focus on slowing my breathing.

  Fire erupts in my cheek as he drags the knife down an inch. An involuntary gasp escapes me, and tears spill full force, mingling with my blood to create a steady pink stream that deposits on my shirt.

  My throat constricts, threatening to sever my oxygen lifeline. A chill sweeps through my limbs, numbing every inch except for the searing slice on my cheek. I should be with Quinn, not stuck in the middle of some stupid standoff.

  “Dylan, man, let’s just go,” Alex says nervously. “We’ll find something else.” When he steps forward and places a hand on his brother’s shoulder, the one I’m not pressed against, Dylan brushes him aside.

  Although I can’t see Dylan’s face, the fire in his words sparks clearly. “No! Just shut up, Alex! I’m handling the sit—“