Those Girls (12 page)

I knelt in front of him, took a breath, and put my mouth around him, just the top part. I almost gagged, squeezed my eyes shut, trying not to think about anything, his fleshy taste, his man smell. He gripped the back of my head, pushed my head closer to him, forcing me to swallow more. I gagged again, dry-heaved.

His eyes shot open and he held the rifle to my temple, the cold metal pressing hard. Then he slid the safety off.

“You bite me and I’ll blow your brains out.”

I nodded. He kept his eyes open, watching me. Finally he closed them, his hand hard on the back of my head. I tried to focus on breathing through my nose. He was moaning, his hand tight in my hair. His other hand was getting relaxed on the gun. I reached out slowly, touched the barrel, and pulled it from him, moving my mouth away and stumbling to my feet in one quick rush.

His hand whipped out, knocking the rifle away before I could pull the trigger. I scrambled after it. He kicked my legs out from under me and I hit the floor hard. His hands were on my legs, yanking me back.

I grabbed at a broken bit of crate on the floor, turned, and thrust it at his eye. At the last second he batted my hand away and instead of the stake going through his eyeball, it gouged his cheek. He let out a yell.

I pulled my legs free, crawled forward a foot, and grabbed the stock of the gun. He was gripping my ankles, trying to drag me backward. I couldn’t get enough space to shoot him, couldn’t spin the rifle around. I flipped on my side and with both hands on the gun hit him hard in the temple with the butt. He faltered. I hit him again. A thud.

He collapsed on the back of my legs and was still. I didn’t know how far away the other room was but hoped Gavin hadn’t heard Brian yell.

I squirmed out from underneath Brian and stood over him, pointing the gun at the back of his head. It was a .22 semiautomatic. I hoped there were a few bullets in the clip. My finger hovered on the trigger, my breath tight. I pulled hard—nothing happened. I turned the gun over and spotted the crushed brass bullet casing jammed in the chamber. Shit, shit, shit. I tried to work it free with my fingers, fumbling and slippery with sweat. How much time did I have before Gavin busted through the door? My heart was beating fast, the moment stretching out. It wasn’t coming free. I squeezed my eyes shut in despair, then opened them and glared down at Brian.

“You fucker,” I whispered at his back. “I hate you.”

*   *   *

I used Brian’s belt and tied his wrists together, my fingers struggling with the leather as I tried to pull it tight and buckle it, terrified he might wake.

The rifle gripped in one hand, I inched my way out of the room, through the warehouse, skirting around stacks of crates. The lantern hung down by my knees, creating a small circle of light a few feet in front of me. Dani had told me to shoot Gavin, but I still couldn’t get the bullet out of the chamber.

I went back to the other room, trying not to knock into anything as I moved around in the dark, and slid Brian’s keys out of his back pocket, holding my breath when they jingled, but he was still out cold. I’d felt something else hard in his pocket and slowly slid my hand back in, pulled out a pocketknife.

I wondered if I should get Dani first, but when I left the room I noticed another door off the hallway. It was bigger, more like an outside entrance. I pushed it open. I seemed to be on the side of the building. I pushed my way through bushes around to the front. Brian’s truck was parked facing the building.

I started up the truck, turned the radio on—loud blast of music. Then I got out and ran to the front of building where there was a door. I tucked myself around the corner, switched the lantern off. In the last of the evening’s light I could see that the warehouse was in a clearing surrounded by trees. It looked like the driveway went around the side of the building. I couldn’t see any houses or lights through the trees. The only noise was Garth Brooks wailing out from Brian’s truck.

Gavin came out, holding his rifle. He snuck up on the truck.

“Brian? That you? The fuck you doing?”

He was standing still, looking around, about twelve feet away. I tried again to pry the bullet out of the chamber but my fingers were too slippery.

He opened the truck door and reached in.

I moved slowly, my feet light on the ground, trying not to clang the lantern, creeping back to the door. I had to get to Dani, then we could get Courtney. One foot was over the entrance, the second coming in behind. A noise, the edge of the lantern brushing the doorjamb. I looked over my shoulder.

Gavin spun around, aimed at me through the open truck window, took a shot. The wood broke in front of my face. I dropped the lantern, dove back into the building, yelling Dani’s name. I heard her call out from behind a door on my right. Another shot went off behind me. I pushed open the door.

“We’ve got to get out of here,” I said into the dark.

She was beside me, her hands touching me. I grabbed her arm. We ran down the hall, pushed open the door into the warehouse. We kept to the side of the room, following the wall, keeping crates between us and the door.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are,” Gavin’s voice echoed down the hall.

We stopped with our backs against the wall, crouched into a corner. I used the knife and cut Dani’s hands free. She rubbed at her wrists. I rested my mouth against her ear. “The gun is jammed, assholes never cleaned it.”

She took it from me, fiddled with the bullet stuck in the chamber. I held my breath, and finally I heard the soft ping as the casing fell onto the concrete.

“We have to find Courtney,” she whispered, passing the gun back.

I gave her the knife. “I took his keys too. They’re in the truck.”

We crab-walked against the wall as cobwebs tangled in our hair and across our faces, trying not to catch our clothes on the crates. Every sound was magnified, every scrape of our feet loud. I heard Gavin’s steps at the doorway, the creak of it being pushed open. I could hear his ragged breaths, knew he was also listening for us. We moved slower. I couldn’t see any other exit, the room almost dark now. We had to get back through the same door somehow.

Dani grabbed my hand, pointed to the left in a frantic movement.

I pointed the gun in that direction, could just make out Gavin’s shadow as he crept closer. I aimed, but he let off a shot first.

I ducked, pulling Dani down with me, then realized he’d shot toward the other end of the warehouse. How many bullets did he have left?

He cursed, then yelled out, “Brian, where the fuck are you?”

He was crossing the room now, going to the other side, opposite the door.

“I’ll throw something,” Dani whispered into my ear. “When he shoots at it, shoot at
him
.” She felt around quietly on the floor. “Got something,” she breathed again into my ear. “Get ready.”

She threw something to the left. Gavin’s shadow spun around, a loud crack as he took another shot. I aimed for his shadow, pulled the trigger, heard a yell, then the sounds of him falling, the clatter of crates being pulled down. I didn’t know how badly we’d hurt him, but we got to our feet and ran to the end of the warehouse, feeling our way for the door to the other storage room.

“Here,” Dani said.

We pushed open the door. Courtney’s small figure was curled on the floor, a lantern beside her. She was naked.

Dani picked her up, gripping her under her arms, and dragged her to her feet. Courtney leaned against Dani, her arm over Dani’s shoulder, whimpering in pain.

I grabbed Courtney’s dress off the floor and we ran toward the doorway out of the warehouse. Dani was still supporting Courtney’s weight, her arm wrapped tight around her waist, me leading the way, the gun against my shoulder.

Where was Gavin? Had I killed him?

We were in the hallway, moving fast for the door. Dani was breathing hard behind me. We got to the truck. I prayed the keys were still in it.

Dani lifted Courtney into the passenger’s side. I kept the gun pointed at the exit, glancing around. Was he in the bushes? Could he circle behind us?

Dani climbed in the driver’s side. “Get in, Jess!”

I raced to the passenger side, jumped inside.

The keys were still dangling from the ignition. Dani started the truck, turned on the headlights. Gavin came running out of the building, his shoulder soaked with blood. Brian was behind him.

Dani threw the truck in reverse, backed up a few feet, then jammed it into gear and pounded on the gas as she spun it around, doing a one-eighty and almost hitting one of them. Brian clung to the side window. We were all screaming.

I hit at his hands until he finally let go and fell to the ground.

*   *   *

We raced down the dirt road, gravel shooting out from behind us, the truck fishtailing on corners.

“I don’t know which way to go!” Dani yelled. “I don’t know where we are.”

“Just keep going until we get to a house,” I said.

“We can’t go to a house. We can’t get help,” she said.

“I don’t want to see anyone!” Courtney was finally talking—and crying hysterically. “I don’t want anyone to know,” she said between sobs. “
No one can know
.” She yanked the dress out of my hands and pulled it down over her head.

“The police will want our names,” Dani said. “They’ll figure out who we are.” We all knew what might happen after that. I thought of Dad’s body under the pigs, his truck in the quarry.

“But they’re going to get away with it,” I said.

“I don’t want
anyone
to know,” Courtney insisted again.

“What are we going to do?” I was frantic with fear, desperate to get far away from Brian and Gavin. “We can’t take their truck into town. People will recognize it. Can we just drive it to Vancouver?”

Dani glanced down at the gauges. “The assholes are almost out of gas.”

“Should we try to steal another truck?” I said.

“That’ll just send the cops after us. We need to get our truck back.”

“From the garage?” I said.

“Yeah, we’ll ditch this truck in town—it’s late, not many people will be out on the streets. We can leave it at the bar, then we’ll steal ours back. We have the shop keys. They said our truck was fixed—and we know it’s got gas. Our rifle is probably still under the seat or they would’ve bragged about finding it.”

“They might’ve been lying—they could’ve gotten rid of the truck,” I said.

“No, I’m betting they kept it.”

A souvenir.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

We followed the road for a while, unsure if we were heading away from town or closer.

“What if we’re going the wrong way and they’re already in town?” I said.

“They’re hurt. They have to come up with a plan too.”

“They might say we attacked them—that we stole their stuff.”

“They don’t want the cops asking questions either,” Dani said.

I glanced over at Courtney, who hadn’t said anything since we’d escaped. She was staring out the window. Once in a while she would look over her shoulder at the road behind us. I grabbed her hand and held it, but hers felt limp.

Finally we started seeing houses, then we crossed a bridge. The tires hummed on the surface.

“That sounds familiar. I think we crossed over this bridge that night!”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Dani said.

“We’re almost there, Courtney,” I said. “We made it.”

She met my eyes, but hers looked hollow, defeated.

In town, we slowed almost to a crawl. The clock on the radio in the truck said it was eleven. We hadn’t passed any other vehicles on the road, and there were just a few in front of the bar. I had no idea what day of the week it was. Dani circled the block and parked the truck behind the bar. Music and the scent of fried food carried out into the parking lot.

We got out, careful not to slam our doors. I had to help Courtney down. I saw now that her ear was bloodied, like Gavin had bit it. I found a water bottle on the floor, and an old T-shirt. I wet the corner, wiped at the blood.

Dani was in the back of the truck, trying to open the tool case behind the rear window. She was testing different keys on Brian’s key chain.

“What are you doing?” I whispered. “We’ve got to go.”

She finally opened the case, pulled out our packsacks, held them up.

We crept through the dark alley to the shop. Dani rifled through the keys, opened it up. I held my breath, waiting for the loud peal of an alarm, but there was only silence. There was also only one truck pulled in the garage.

“Shit. It’s not here,” Dani said.

“It
has
to be.” I looked around, tugging at a tarp in the corner, excited for a moment. But it was covering an old car. “Maybe they have some gas. We could fill up their truck and at least get out of here.”

We were checking a jerry can when the front door opened.

I was still carrying Brian’s rifle and spun around, pointing it at the door. The man with the beard we’d seen the day we came through town was standing in the doorway. He was big, now that I saw him close up, his shoulders wide and his beard so long it touched his chest. He was wearing a baseball cap with a Harley insignia, and a Harley belt buckle pulled through faded jeans, a white T-shirt under a black leather vest. One of his forearms was scarred badly, the skin pink and raised in big welts like he’d been burned at some point.

When he saw me with the rifle, he put his hands up. He looked at us one by one, took it all in.

“You girls okay?” His voice was gruff, like a smoker’s.

Dani stepped forward, pushed the gun down so it pointed at the floor. I hung on for a moment, but she shot me a look. I relaxed my arms.

“We don’t want any trouble,” she said, “just want what’s ours.”

“You’re looking for your truck.”

She didn’t say anything.

“They have a yard out back,” he said. “Noticed the boys hiding a truck under a tarp a week ago. But it’s a locked yard—with a big dog.”

I wanted to be brave and was angry when tears threatened. My voice thick, I said, “You going to turn us in?”