“I know, I know.”
They drove on for another few minutes, the only sound coming from the wind rushing through the vehicle and the engine churning under them.
Behind them, Lance asked, “Anything?”
“Nothing,” Annie said. “Just a lot of empty land. God, there is so much emptiness out here. We were so lucky to find the house.”
“Yeah, lucky.”
“I mean before last night,” Annie said softly.
“I know what you meant, babe. I didn’t mean anything by it.”
Will imagined them smiling at each other back there, trying to comfort one another as best they could. The same way he would do with Lara…
“Aw, shit,” Danny said beside him.
Will looked out the windshield and saw it.
A lump in the road: a body.
Danny slowed down as Will picked up his M4A1 and looked into the back at Lance and Annie. “Stay inside.”
They nodded silently back.
Danny stopped the Bronco, and Will opened the car door and hopped out. He heard Danny’s door opening behind him, but he was already moving quickly toward the body, scanning the ditch to his right and the landmass beyond. He didn’t bother with his left side because he didn’t have to — Danny was covering it. Traces of leaked motor oil zig-zagged in front of him, already drying in the heat.
The body was thirty meters away and Will reached it first. He felt a tightness in his gut at the sight of blonde hair blowing against a slight wind. The lump lay on its stomach, arms awkwardly folded under it, as if the woman had attempted to stop her fall as she fell.
She was wearing shorts, a long-sleeve shirt, and sneakers. Blood gathered under her, glimmering against the harsh sun. He crouched next to the body and slowly, almost hesitantly, turned the woman over onto her back.
A girl. Young. Maybe seventeen.
But not Gaby.
“Is it her?” Danny said behind him.
“It’s not her,” Will said.
The girl’s face was partially covered in blood, and there were deep cuts along her cheeks and temple, likely from glass. From far away, she might have been mistaken for Gaby, but Will knew Gaby’s face well enough to see through the scars and blood.
“They dumped her,” Will said. “She was probably still alive at the time.”
“One of the girls with Gaby?”
“Maybe.”
Will thought about searching the girl for clues but quickly dismissed it. She looked at peace, and considering what she had gone through, she didn’t need him digging around her pockets.
“What’s the word?” Danny said.
“Let’s go.” He got up and they jogged back to the Bronco. Will could feel the urgency in every one of his bones. “She’s still fresh. Five minutes. Maybe less. We’re catching up to them.”
“Shitty car,” Danny said. “They’re probably moving slow, too. Good for us and good for Gaby. We get her and head home. No muss, no fuss.”
“Yeah,” Will said, glancing down at his watch.
12:40 p.m.
Too close. We’re cutting it too close…
28
Gaby
She was still dazed from the pain, trying desperately to make sense of what was happening to them, when Harrison stopped the car and threw Donna’s body outside. Then he climbed back in and drove off, leaving Claire’s sister to die in the middle of the highway. She was vaguely aware of Milly sniffling next to her, just barely able to stop herself from outright bawling, while Claire pressed the rag down against Gaby’s mouth, trying to stop the bleeding from her broken nose.
Gaby’s entire body was on fire, and the scorching sun that turned the backseat of the old Dodge Neon into an oven didn’t help. She couldn’t tell how Claire was handling the situation because she could barely make out the girl’s face through the haze that blanketed her vision. Claire wasn’t crying — she could tell that much because the girl was so close to her — but Milly was doing enough of that for both of them.
Harrison had taken their weapons and tossed them into the trunk before putting all three of them into the vehicle. The handcuffs dug into Gaby’s wrists, but she found herself grateful for them because the biting metal sensation took away some of the pain coursing endlessly through the rest of her body. Every inch of her face hurt, and her nose was clearly broken. If only her high school friends could see her now, they might not even recognize her.
She struggled to sit up and was only able to do so with Claire’s help. The thirteen-year-old took the blood-soaked rag away because she wasn’t bleeding anymore. She couldn’t tell if the sun was overly bright this afternoon or if something was wrong with her eyes. Maybe a loosened socket or two. She wouldn’t be surprised if she was bleeding internally, too. It felt like it.
“Donna…” she said.
Claire, sitting to Gaby’s left, shook her head silently. The girl looked resolute in her determination not to let any emotion show on her face, though when she glanced forward at Harrison, sitting directly in front of her, the hate shone through. Milly had turned herself into a ball to Gaby’s right, arms folded across bent legs and her head placed between her knees, like a tortoise hoping to escape from all this.
Harrison drove in silence. What was that he had said when he pulled her out of the Silverado?
“Everything was going fine until you showed up. Everything that’s happened, it’s all your fault.”
Screw you, Harrison.
There were a lot of things wrong with that statement, but she was sure Harrison wasn’t in the mood to debate them. Not that she was, either, as her eyes drifted from his face, reflected in the rearview mirror, to the Remington shotgun lying across the front passenger seat, the stock facing him. As luck would have it, she had sat up in the middle of the backseat and there was nothing at all between her and the weapon. All she had to do was lean forward and reach for it—
Harrison’s eyes shifted, picking her up in the rearview mirror. “You’re up.”
Sonofabitch.
“What happened to Donna?” she asked.
“The same thing that’ll happen to you and the kids if you make trouble.”
“Donna wasn’t making trouble.”
“She was going to die anyway.” He shrugged. “I saved us both the hassle. You should thank me.”
I’ll kill you instead.
Claire tensed up next to her. It never occurred to Gaby just how small Claire really was until now. The driver’s seat completely covered her up, which meant Harrison couldn’t see her.
As the fog began to clear from her head, Gaby’s mind went to work. She turned over everything that had happened, that was happening, and that would likely happen if they were still here, in this car with Harrison, when night fell.
Options. What were her options?
She couldn’t think of one at the moment. The shotgun was her best bet, but with Harrison already alerted to her conscious presence, her chances of reaching it before he struck was, at best, fifty-fifty. At worse, he was baiting her so he could hurt her some more. She wouldn’t put it past him to play games. He seemed sadistic enough to get his jollies out of something like that. And there were the handcuffs. Grabbing the shotgun and using it was going to be problematic with her limited mobility.
Her other option involved Claire. The girl was able and willing to act, but how? Maybe, if Claire could distract Harrison long enough for her to reach the shotgun…
“Where are we going?” she asked.