I'll Be Damned (Anna Wolfe Series) (15 page)

“What do we do? What should we do?” Janie chants frantically.

“I don’t know.”

“We need to call the cops,” she announces, digging her cell phone out of her purse. She flips it open, dialing 911 with trembling fingers. She slams it closed with a curse word. “The damn call failed,” she sighs. “No signal.”

Figures, we’re out in the boondocks. This part of the highway is more desolate than ever. “Try my phone,” I encourage, pointing to my purse at her feet. “It’s in one of the pockets.”

She grabs my purse, searching frantically until she pulls it out, and dials 911 in one swift motion. “What the hell!” she yells. “Call failed!”

I shrink, thinking of the seriousness of our situation. “We might be able to stop," I reply calmly. “A public place might be safe enough.”

“And then what? The lunatic will follow us and who knows what will happen if he catches us. No way! Don't lead him in the direction of your house either!”

That might be a challenge. I was already on Highway 21 North, heading in that exact direction. Remembering an exit a half a mile away for Rice Hope Road, I could take it and try to lose the truck. “Maybe we’ll get pulled over for speeding,” I answer positively. 

The needle on the speedometer is vibrating as it closes in on ninety miles an hour. High speed makes me nervous and the fleeting feeling of safety doesn't help. I have no idea what we're going to do. We’re in a moving car, but unable to escape. Talk about irony. I look in my rearview again. The truck’s still there, threatening me with its wild road maneuvers. The exit for Rice Hope Road appears not a moment too soon. I pull off, dropping my speed to fifty-five miles per hour, which is still too fast to enter a narrow off-ramp that I’ve never been on. I turn right at the end of the ramp, following my intuition. The black pavement widens in front of me, dipping and turning in the shadows of the dim moonlight. Conveniently, the road lacks streetlights. I might as well be driving blindfolded.

“Anna, what are we going to do? We can’t pull over or drive around all night!  Do you even know where we're going?” Janie’s voice quivers hysterically.

“I have no idea, and going home isn’t an option,” I answer. “Just keep trying to contact the police.”

Janie dials 911 again from both phones, but keeps getting the same disheartening message - call failed. 

“Damn it! A call won’t go through on either of our phones!” She yells, throwing hers on her lap. She turns to me. “I bet it's the crazy from the other night… it has to be. There’s no other explanation,” Janie concludes, trying to focus on the passing scenery to calm her nerves. 

I make a right on Plantation Road and continue driving, doing my best to devise a plan. Janie alternates between holding her head in her hands, biting her nails, and turning around to see if our stalker persists. She dials the police again with no luck. Both phones are in her hands as she bounces them from spot to spot, hoping to stumble across a hidden pocket of reception. “We need a plan… or a place to go,” I state.

“I’m thinking,” she snaps.

I scan the rearview mirror again. The truck pulls back again, only to speed up inches from my bumper. The reflections of the headlights swell, saturating my mirror in glares and prompting me to blink away. Janie’s still thinking of a plan, but she keeps turning around hoping for the same thing as I - a miracle.
Think,
I demand. This scenario plays out hundreds of times in horror movies; all I need to do is the opposite of what the victims do.

“I have an idea,” Janie states eagerly.

“Okay, let’s hear it.” With only half a tank of gas, any idea is comforting.

“Let’s lose them somehow… when the truck hangs back, we speed up… then pull over. We’ll run into the woods, heading separate ways with our cell phones. I bet we can find a place for help or phone service to call the police.”

That’s her plan? I shake my head in irritation. We run into dangerous woods separately and get help? Common sense has obviously abandoned us.

“That’s absurd!” I exclaim. “There are dangerous animals in the woods here. It’s not like back home where rats or squirrels are the only predators. Alligators, banana spiders, snapping turtles and snakes live in Georgia’s woodlands. Not to mention the Savannah National Wildlife Rescue is only a few turns away,” I answer, annoyed. “Do you watch horror movies at all? It’s a horrible idea… and not going to happen.”

“Well, I don’t know what else to do,” she growls, crossing her arms in front of her chest, disgruntled. I sigh at her impeccable timing for a temper tantrum.

“Anna!” Janie screams. She’s bouncing on her knees, staring out the back window like an excited child.

“What?”

“It’s… It’s turning around! The truck is leaving!” she gasps.

I glance in the mirror, watching the truck’s headlights disappear as the driver turns around. I’m unconvinced, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t relieved. I ease my foot off the gas pedal, looking for a place to make a U-turn. The narrow roadway slinks inward, surrounded by chunky woods. I glance out Janie's window, hoping to find a spot to pull over. A massive hole hollows out part of the earth behind the menacing trees that stare at us like we don't belong here. The pale moonlight shining from the night sky is swallowed in the gorge's deep abyss, sending chills all over my body. It reminds me of a backdoor to hell. I shudder at the idea of turning around right next to the widest gap on Earth. I remove my foot from the gas pedal, slowing my speed to a crawl. The continuous crackle and pops of rocks under my tires worries me. With so much debris, this road couldn’t possibly be traveled on too often. I scan the landscape, eager for a way out. Gleams of silver sparkle like diamonds in the reflection of my headlights, exposing a dilapidated wire fence, tilting over itself and barely intact. A rusted, metal sign hangs from it, reading
Quarry Entrance - Trucks Only
. Well, that explains the gigantic opening in the earth. This is life’s big joke. Of all the highway exits, I pick the only one that leads to a dead end, complete with a three-hundred-foot drop. Fanfriggintastic! “We’re driving into a quarry. The road is a dead end,” I stammer in shock.

“Relax, Anna, the truck is gone! Let’s linger here for a bit before heading home.”

Relax? How can I relax when we're being pursued? Overlooked pieces of the night start slamming together. The truck probably turned around because the driver knew this road led to a quarry. It's a trap. In all likelihood, the truck is parked up the road, just waiting for us. I turn the car around well before the enormous crater, and face the entrance. Flicking my lights off, I feel more comfortable in the dark. Staying here has to improve our chances, right? Minutes pass, releasing some of the tension. Maybe the truck did turn around and go home. The signs of danger begin to fade the longer we wait. Janie flips open her cell phone in another desperate attempt to contact the police.

“No reception still... how bizarre,” she murmurs. “Anna, what’s going on?” Janie inquires.

“How am I supposed to know?” I respond defensively. “I feel like we’re in
The Twilight Zone.
This shouldn't be happening to us… we’re normal people with normal lives.”

“I don’t know Anna. How would you define normal?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” she exhales in frustration. “I’m just saying this type of thing does happen to normal people,” she explains, putting the word
normal
in air quotes. “Serial killers do exist.”

“Thanks, Janie, that’s really comforting.” What if she’s right? I rest my forehead on the steering wheel, exhaling loudly.

“For starters, we need to get a hold of the police either way,” Janie suggests.

“It doesn’t matter! The police can’t help us now. Our phones don't work and if we report this after the fact, they’ll probably think we made it up. That’s how they acted the other night when I called them. I saw the doubt in their eyes. ”

“Small-minded cops don't matter, our safety does. Recording these incidents help if the person is eventually caught. There will be a ton of evidence in your favor that might put him away for years.”   

“Yeah,
if
being the operative word.” It would be great
if
I could go back to living my normal life again.

I gaze out my window, immediately absorbed by the dense smokiness of the night. Its ability to cloak the world in a blanket of isolation amazes me. The darkness parts as a thin beam of light gently pushes it aside like a curtain. The meager light shines on the trees, elongating their limbs. Twisted branches stretch over the road like crooked hands, threatening to seize anything in their path. The surreal landscape causes my heart to race as sweat beads on my eyebrow. “Janie, do you see the light?” I ask, pointing to it.

She doesn’t respond. “Janie!” I screech, grabbing her arm too aggressively.

“Yes! Of course, I see it, I’m not blind!” she yells, yanking her arm away from my tight grasp.

The light hugs the turn as the vehicle slowly descends towards the quarry entrance. The truck's two round headlights watch the road in front of it like a hungry lion. I can’t stop my terror from mushrooming. I glance out both of our windows, hoping there’s somewhere to run and hide. I shake my head.
I’m just as bad as Janie
. We’re too close to the quarry, it’s pitch black and we’re in an unfamiliar area. Panic settles in my chest and my muscles knot together. Cramps churn my stomach, causing me to inhale sharply. Now’s not the time. I breathe deeply, hoping Janie doesn’t notice. “Janie, it’s the truck,” I squeeze out between cramps. “We have to do something,” I add, trying my best to suppress the pain. My eyelids slam together as a dull knife drags itself slowly through the inside of my stomach lining. I puff out the pain, and beg for it to stop.

“I can’t think of anything …” she trails off vacantly.

I steal a glimpse of Janie’s panic-stricken face. She won’t be much help from here on out. I exhale a few more times, relieved the sharp pain has turned into a dull throb. "Janie, listen to me…” She remains silent. “When the truck passes through the fence, I’m going to drive head-on, like a game of chicken…”

Janie interrupts before I finish. “No way,” she stammers, stubbornly crossing her arms across her chest again. She shakes her head side to side for added effect.

“I'm not going to actually hit it,” I reply, turning my body to face her. “Listen, there isn’t much time. I’m going to speed towards the truck and then veer off to the right,” I say, pointing to what looks like a wide open space. It is the only idea I can construct under the mountain of pressure crushing us. Janie nods her head in shock. We sit in deafening silence, watching the eroded truck cautiously drive through the quarry’s front gates. My hands grip the steering wheel firmly in anticipation. The truck drives towards us, illuminating the inside of my car like a bright, sunny day. The engine of the truck screams, assaulting my ears.

“Oh my God!” Janie gasps.

The truck's motor whines in pain, throwing its ass end to the side, and demonstrating its lack of restraint. The truck’s headlights bounce as it barrels towards us. Janie inhales sharply at the impending danger. I slap my shifter into drive, ready to slam my foot down on the gas pedal. The truck’s flying at us like a missile, determined to blow us off the quarry’s ledge. I flick my lights on and floor my foot on the gas pedal. My tires spin momentarily, pelting my bumper with loose rocks. The smell of burnt rubber and the flash of bright light swallow my senses as we face the truck head on. Another five feet and our bumpers will collide. I quickly jerk the steering wheel to the right, barely grazing the truck’s front bumper. I pass the truck’s left side, and steal a peek inside the cab. Two vivid red circles glare back at me. What the hell? Are those eyes? There’s too much going on to rationalize what I think I saw. I glance in my rearview mirror and watch as the truck’s brake lights flicker briefly before plunging into the gaping maw of the earth. To Janie’s dismay, I slam on the brakes and hop out of the car.

“Anna, what are you doing?” Janie screams, following on my heels.

“The truck is gone… straight into the quarry!” I exclaim, pointing into the hole. The echo of metal violently crumpling fills the night, followed by an earsplitting explosion. We both look at each other before turning back to where the sound originated. I stare into the blaze, mesmerized. The fire crackles and spits in protest as the velvet onyx shadows dance on the surrounding walls like an eerie puppet show. Deep orange and garnet flames mingle with each other as they clamber higher into the night sky, licking the rim of the quarry. I inch closer, to see the truck for myself. Janie follows without a word. I walk to the ledge and gaze down. Lying in the inferno is the truck, all crumpled up like an accordion. The firestorm dredges up my forgotten nightmare. I squint, unable to focus clearly on the movement in the wavy heat. Strange, I swear I saw something.