Anguish Unfolds Read online

  I rush around, yanking on drawers and cupboards, knocking shampoo bottles and mouthwash out of the way in my search.

  Rain pelts the roof. I ignore it. We’ve got bigger problems right now.

  In the middle of everything happening inside the RV, the storm raging outside is just a nuisance added on to our growing list of issues. A shriek of thunder lances the atmosphere. The only way this could be any worse is if Dylan still had a knife pressed into my skin. But compared to Alex, I’m lucky. I wouldn’t wish what happened to him on anyone.

  “I’m not finding anything!” I shout. Dan will be okay. If I just repeat it enough times, maybe it’ll be true.

  “I got an idea,” Jim hollers. “Get a bunch of towels wet, use cold water. We’ll use ‘em like a compress on his skin.” He huffs out a breath that’s half desperation, half resignation.

  I fumble through the closet, grabbing a stack of clean towels. Pushing my tired muscles, I rush to the bathroom and throw the towels in the sink one at a time. With each rush of cold water, I drown a towel, twist it out and toss it to Jim.

  He immediately applies each one to his brother’s exposed skin.

  Dan whimpers with each touch, but once we’re finished, he settles into the bed, a mound of wet cotton soothing his sores.

  Jim’s voice drifts to my ears. He mutters to himself, thinking out loud. “We’re not gonna make it too far like this.” He scratches his head, debating with himself. “Vic’s place isn’t too far from here…he’s probably taken off somewhere...swing by, get Dan patched up, maybe find some clean clothes,…get back on the road.” He starts walking toward the driver’s seat. Fire boils in the pit of my stomach. He’s not even going to bother telling me the plan.

  Frustration, fear, and fatigue flare within me, erupting in my words. “Hey!” I shout, instantly surprised by my bold tone. Stopping mid-step, he turns toward me, eyebrows raised. Good. I have his attention.

  “What’s going on? What are we doing? What are you planning?” The questions spill out of my mouth as fast as my mind can form them. They sound more like demands than questions, though. Masking a momentary flash of annoyance, Jim slowly steps toward me and reaches out to touch my shoulder.

  “Now just calm down,” he starts.

  “No! I will not calm down! You brought me with you against my will and now you’re taking me somewhere and you won’t say where.” I border on pushing further but a nervous twinge in my belly signals a warning. I’ve seen Jim when he’s angry and I don’t really want to be on the receiving end of it.

  Turning his head sideways like a confused dog, he hesitates before responding.

  “Alright, Riley, here’s the deal.” He watches me closely as if I’m on the verge of sprouting another head. “I got a friend who lives around here, maybe ten or so miles away. Since everyone seems to have damn near disappeared, he’s probably gone too. We’ll just swing by and borrow some supplies. He’ll never even know we were there. We need a solid first aid kit to patch Dan up. And you could use something for your face.”

  Running his eyes down my body he adds, “And we’ve got to get you a change of clothes. You can’t walk into a military base looking like that. They’ll think you’re some kind of serial killer or something.”

  Meeting his eyes in a rare moment of bravery, I reply. “Isn’t that ironic when I’m probably the only one here who’s never killed anyone.” With that, I turn on my heel and march to Dan’s side.

  Though I don’t look back, I can feel Jim’s eyes on me. Thank goodness he doesn’t have laser vision. I’d be toast by now. Heavy footsteps stomp toward the front of the RV. As he settles into the driver’s seat, he adjusts the mirrors and tosses aside anything that gets in his way.

  When I reach Dan’s side, his hitched breathing hangs in the air. His swollen eyes are pressed closed. Hushed moans slip from his lips every few seconds. Those bugs looked like fire ants. I’ve seen them before, but I’ve never been stung by one, let alone the hundreds that were crawling on him. If he has enough poison in his body, he could go into shock.

  With Dan resting, if you can even call it that, I make my way to the passenger’s seat. Jim’s driving is slow and cautious. As anxious as he is to try and get help, at least he knows not to bounce Dan around or risk sliding on the wet roads.

  As I slip into the bucket seat, Jim’s dark eyes wash over me. “How is he?”

  “He looks like he’s trying to sleep,” I say honestly. The adrenaline rush from my brief stand has passed. Now I’m back to worrying about Dan. “But I think those were fire ants swarming all over him. And if that’s what they were, that means he’s full of their poison.”

  Rubbing his forehead, Jim agrees with me. “I think you’re right. I’ve never seen so many damn ants.”

  “I couldn’t find any lotion or anything that I think would help him. Maybe the people who own this RV took the first aid kit with them. I mean, don’t you think we would have found something useful by now?”

  Keeping his eyes on the road, he easily maneuvers down the highway. Thankfully, this storm lacks the wind gusts the last one had. It seems like the farther south we go, the clearer the roads are and the easier they are to navigate.

  “He’s suffering and we don’t know what the hell to do about it,” Jim sighs. “We have no medical supplies. No medical experience.” I sit in silence. For once I agree with Jim. I’m used to feeling helpless, but this must be a new emotion for him.

  “If we can’t find help, we may have to do the only thing we can for him,” he continues. Narrowing my eyes, I watch his face for clues. He can’t possibly be saying that he’d put Dan out of his misery if it came to that, is he?

  “You can see how much pain he’s in right now. He can’t even talk. It’s like he’s being tortured in his own body,” Jim says quietly. “I’d want the same thing if that happened to me. And I would do that for you too, Riley. I wouldn’t let you suffer like that. No way.”

  Chapter 21

  I close my eyes in morbid comprehension and swallow the bile rising in my throat. So if I got hurt and he couldn’t help me, he’d just decide when I had enough? And I’d have no say in the matter? His thoughts swing from one extreme to the other. His first thought when he saw Dylan, Hunter, and Alex in the RV was to ask if I was okay. And now he’s saying he’d put me out of my misery if it came to that?

  A chill rushes from my core to my fingertips. Numb. Every part of me feels numb. I can’t accept Jim’s way of thinking. I know we can get Dan help. And I would be haunted for the rest of my life if we gave up on him now.

  Anguish unfolds within every cell of my body, grasping each corner of my brain. What if Jim’s friend won’t help us? I can’t lose Dan. And I can’t face Jim alone.

  “Riley,” Jim calmly explains, as if it’s an inconvenience. “I only do what I have to do. To protect us.” He motions between me and him. “Whatever it takes to keep us safe.”

  My stomach recoils at the mention of “us.” Jim and I are not an “us” and we never will be.

  Failing miserably at holding a steady voice, I ask, “And what about Quinn? Who’s keeping her safe?” All calm leaves his face as his features scrunch in anger.

  “Your sister is fine! You need to get her out of your head.” His voice rises with each word. And here we go again with the mood shifts. Dan’s words come to mind, “He flies off the handle over stupid stuff.”

  Mindlessly, I nod.

  The flood of emotions recedes. His beady eyes flash relief.

  I almost release a maniacal giggle. Beady is a word Quinn would use to describe his soulless eyes. Quinn. I stare straight ahead as we continue down the road. Memories of my younger sister dance through my head. The swing set we spent hours playing on in the summers. The elaborate scenarios we’d imagine for our Barbie dolls. Arguing over whose turn it was to hold the leash when we took Snickers, our family dog, for a walk.

  My nose burns as I stifle the tears that fight for release. This is not the Jim I gre
w up with. And really, we only saw him and his brother during vacations. It’s not like we were next-door neighbors and saw each other every day.

  I never believed Jim could do the things he’s done. I always thought Quinn was rude to him, but maybe she saw what I couldn’t, and I didn’t trust her instincts.

  My wandering thoughts shift into steely resolve. I now know what Jim is capable of. And I will not let Quinn be his next victim. I was the older sister but only chronologically. Quinn was always braver, bolder, and more assertive. She doesn’t know it, but at this moment I am finally claiming the role I should have taken the day she was born. I will protect her the only way I can. By keeping Jim far away from her.

  Chapter 22

  We drive in silence for about ten minutes, moving farther away from civilization with each passing second. After a few turns, the rolling hills look more like a construction site. Upturned dirt and giant tubes line an enormous ditch.

  “What’s all this?” I ask, my face pressed to the window.

  “Pipeline. They started it weeks ago,” Jim answers absently. “Looks like they’re taking a break or maybe they put the whole damn thing on hold.” He mutters to himself, “Probably not safe with all this crazy weather lately.”

  Just past where the construction stops, Jim turns onto a small dirt road. Dust kicks up, clouding around the RV. When stones start pinging off the tires, Jim slows to a crawl. The driveway’s gotta be about a mile long, it winds around small buildings that look like storage sheds.

  Since we’re barely moving, I unbuckle the seatbelt and shuffle to the back to check on Dan. His eyes are open, but they’re still slits. His whole face is a swollen red blotch. He must sense me or maybe my shadow crossed his narrow field of vision.

  “We there yet?” he asks hopefully. “We at the base?” His voice is scratchy.

  “Not yet,” I say as pleasantly as possible. “But we’re going to get there soon. We’re just making one stop to try and get you some medicine, okay?”

  He lets out a disappointed huff.

  Jim shifts the RV into park and hops out of the driver’s seat. He crowds in next to me.

  “You alright, Dan?” He shoots me a worried glance. I doubt Dan can see that kind of detail right now.

  Dan slowly shakes his head. “I need…a doctor…or a hospital. Something.”

  “You hang on,” Jim says. “Just a little longer, brother, and you’re gonna be okay.” With that, Jim stands, turns on his heel, and strides toward the door.

  I follow. Besides anything we can borrow to help Dan, we’re also hoping to get a change of clothes for me. Dried blood stains don’t coincide with the impression I want to make when trying to enter a military base.

  Jim throws the door open, revealing a sprawling white colonial-style house. My eyes wander across the never-ending yard. I would expect a perfectly manicured lawn and maybe an in-ground pool or gazebo to accompany the spacious home, but instead I see dogs. Dozens of dogs.

  You’d never know these pups were back here. They’re completely hidden from the road, along with the scattering of downtrodden doghouses. Some are barrels resting on their sides with a square opening cut into the round lid. Others are wooden boxes with worn roofs. Their circular dirt spaces are just inches apart, though not close enough that the dogs can reach each other.

  They remind me of our family dog, Snickers. We left him at our aunt’s house when we left for vacation. He’s probably still there. Wondering why we aren’t coming back.

  My feet shuffle toward the dogs. I need a closer look. And I can tell they’d like one too.

  I’m not sure how many eyes stalk me but the sensation of being under a microscope creeps up my neck. They watch our every move. A few snarl but most just stare intently.

  “J-Jim,” I nervously stutter. “What is this place?” His glare shifts from the dogs to me.

  “It’s just a…friend’s place,” he answers impatiently.

  “Well, they don’t look very happy,” I note. “Why are they all chained out here? Are there more inside?”

  “No, he keeps them all out here,” he says dryly. “Look, why don’t you go back to the RV and wait there. I’m just gonna run inside, grab what we need, and then we’re gonna get the hell out of here.”

  “But I thought we were supposed to try and get some clean clothes for me. I should probably be there for that to see what would fit,” I protest. What kind of person lives here?

  “Just wait in the RV,” he snaps. “If I can get you any clothes, I will. And I’ll bring them out to you. Now go.”

  “I want to know what this place is!” Even I’m surprised by my tone. I’m tired of feeling like the world is upside down and inside out. Everything is wrong. And there’s no guarantee that it will ever be right again.

  Jim sighs, scratching his chin. “It’s kind of a place to gamble,” he says quietly.

  Crossing my arms, I prod. “Gamble on what?”

  “The dogs, Riley. It’s a dogfighting ring.”

  My stomach lurches and tears spring to my eyes. Those dogs aren’t pets. They’re captives. Forced to fight for their lives so people like Jim can win money.

  “Look, Riley, I know it seems—”

  “No! I really don’t want to hear any more! Nothing you can say would ever justify forcing those poor animals to fight!” As far as I’m concerned, Jim and his stupid friend are worse than Dylan. At least with people like that, you can try to reason and try to defend yourself. Those poor dogs are at the mercy of cruel humans.

  Without another word, I turn on my heel and stomp back toward the driveway. As I pass one of the zillion sheds on the property, a muffled bark stops me mid-step. Pressing my face and hands to the dusty window, I peer inside. The source of the bark watches me with curious interest.

  What I assume is a mama dog lays in the shed, surrounded by five squirming puppies. She attempts to clean their brown and white coats while they playfully nip at each other. The dopey smile overtaking my face quickly falters. These adorable babies were born to fight, just like the others. They have no idea the horrific future that awaits them.

  In that moment a fire flickers in my bones. I’m going to change their future. If I can just figure out how to change my own first.

  Chapter 23

  This place reeks of violence and despair. Why would anyone come here? Shouting from the house startles me. Sounds like Jim’s friend is home and isn’t very interested in helping us. That’s just fine with me. I don’t think I really want help from someone who keeps all these dogs chained up like prisoners.

  My anger fuels bravery. I don’t need to stay with Jim just to keep him away from Quinn. I have a choice and I will not let him control my fate. I could do it. Right now. I could just run and run until my legs scream with pain. I could pretend I’m Quinn competing in a track meet, except the prize is freedom and the finish line is home.

  Thinking of Dan, my resolve wanes. If I leave, will Jim do everything he can to get Dan to the base? Or will he just as soon give up? I can’t take that chance. No matter what happened, Dan doesn’t deserve that. And, even if Jim did keep going, what if they run into more trouble? Jim can’t fight off every bad guy, dodge the weather and take care of Dan at the same time.

  Slowly spinning 360 degrees, I take in every detail of my surroundings, including the address on the mailbox: 74 Newport Lane.

  Thinking of the ride here, I remember the pipeline project. That’s a huge landmark. It will guide me back. I lock eyes with the mama dog, making her a silent promise.

  With a sense of purpose, I charge into the RV. I know exactly what I need. Digging into the console, my fingers scramble for the perfectly folded rectangle I’d spotted earlier. A smile passes over my face when I unfold the street map and pinpoint the location. Reaching into another compartment, I snag the blue ballpoint pen I saw earlier. Thank you, Steve and Jamie.

  Carefully folding the map a few sizes smaller than its original shape, I shove it into my back pocke
t. No matter where I end up, it’s coming with me.

  Feeling a slight sense of accomplishment, I decide to fulfill my original mission and check on Dan. His eyes remain closed, but his fitful movements confirm he’s not really resting. It’s like his body can’t stay still.

  Since he’s not even cognizant that I’m here, I wander back to the passenger’s seat and wait patiently for Jim to return. Before long, a figure dashes around the RV and throws open the door. Jim rushes to the driver’s seat and starts the engine.

  I just stare. He’s got no clothes for me, no supplies. Nothing. I believe that unfamiliar look in his eyes is fear. More shouting erupts outside the RV as Jim tears down the driveway, as if he can’t get far enough away from this place fast enough.

  Scrambling to buckle myself in, I demand, “What happened?” I’m still angry that Jim would even associate with a place like that.

  Running a hand through his hair and releasing a deep breath, Jim answers quietly. “Vic’s home and he’s not gonna help us. And let’s just say he wasn’t too happy that I showed up here.”

  Smugly crossing my arms, I say, “That’s surprising. The monster who forces dogs to fight for their lives didn’t want to give us a hand.”

  “Alright, Riley, that’s enough. Look, I know he’s an ass and he does shitty things, okay? Don’t worry, I won’t be going there anymore.” Patting the map hiding in my pocket I keep my thoughts to myself. Maybe you won’t be back there, but I will be paying Vic a visit if it’s the last thing I do.

  Chapter 24

  As we proceed farther south, the ride is mostly quiet. The only sounds are Dan’s occasional moans. After about thirty minutes of driving, we come upon a town unlike any other place we’ve passed through. It’s abuzz with life.

  Emergency vehicles are strategically placed every few blocks. Uniformed firefighters and police direct people in long lines as if they’re in chutes. Most are on foot, trudging along. Worry and luggage weigh them down and slow their steps.