Griggs drops the man from the side of the truck and takes a step back. He waves the gun toward the rear of the truck. The other two men shake their heads but seem to do what he asks. They go to the back of the truck and open the large rear door. They pull down a long metal ramp and set it on the ground. Griggs says something else and disappears around the truck. The other two stand, leaning into each other. I’m too far away to see their lips moving, but they seem to be talking. They look back at the shack again and then follow the sheriff.
The truck. Unguarded. Headlights still on. The keys might still be in the ignition.
“I’ll come back for you,” I promise Abe as I stand. His face is turned away from me. I ignore the bloody hole in his head. “You won’t stay here. I’ll come back.” My heart stutters in my chest, but I push it away.
I move to the door and open it slowly, poking my head out. No movement. I step out into the rain and am instantly soaked. I move along the outside of the shack until I reach the corner. Taking a deep breath, I turn and press my stomach against the wall and tilt my head around the corner.
The truck sits at the edge of the road. The headlights are still on. Farther up there’s a dark hole in the side of the hill. The cave entrance. Lights have been strung up on the cave ceiling, leading deeper into the cave, but the entrance is empty. I gingerly put weight on my ankle, testing it out. The pain is there, and it burns, but it’s not overpowering. I move around the corner of the shack, out into the open, and almost trip. There are four white propane tanks, the kind that hook up to barbeque grills, stacked against the wall. One starts to fall into the others, and I reach out and grab the top to keep the tanks from falling. The sound probably won’t carry, but I can’t take the chance. The top tank is heavy. It’s full. I set it back up and look back at the cave entrance. Still empty.
Now. Do it now.
Shit.
Now!
I take off, running as quickly as I can, sort of hopping to keep as much weight as
possible off my ankle. Rain slams into my face, the huge drops almost blinding me. The wind is strong. Thunder tears across the sky above. Forty feet. My chest hurts. Thirty feet. Abe and Cal are dead. Twenty feet. Please let the keys still be in the truck. Ten feet. The look on Cal’s face before he fell off the bridge. Five feet. Look away.
I hit the passenger door almost running full tilt. I frantically scrabble for the door handle. It’s wet and slides from my hand. I pull on it again. And again. The door doesn’t open. It’s locked. Without hesitating, I turn and run round the front of the truck, the headlights flashing in my eyes. I hit the driver’s door and have started to pull on the handle when I hear the rumble of voices through the rain, coming from the cave entrance, which I have a clear view of. I see movement farther back in the cave. I’m almost frozen, until my father whispers move, move, move. I won’t make it up the hill or back to the shack in time. I can’t try and open the door. If it’s locked, I’ll get caught trying to open it. If it’s open, they’ll see the door. The voices get louder. I drop to the ground and roll under the truck.
My breathing is out of control, to the point of hyperventilating. A large rock digs into my back. The sound of footsteps and voices is deafening. The pulse in my neck feels like it’s throbbing. Even though the rain is cold and the temperature has dropped, I start to sweat again. I stare up at the undercarriage of the truck, smelling metal and oil.
I can’t make out what they’re saying until they get closer to the truck and onto the metal ramp. Then their words reverberate through the truck.
“I always knew Griggs was fucking insane,” a deep voice says.
The other voice is higher pitched. “Yeah, that’s fucking hard-core, man. Even the boss seems a little freaked out.”
“Ah, screw it,” Low Voice says. “I’d rather a few people be dead than go to jail. I can’t go back there.”
“I dunno,” High Pitch says, sounding nervous. “What kind of person do you have to be to consider putting a bullet into your own family? He’s just a kid!”
“She’s already done it once. Don’t let the boss fool you. She’s a cold bitch, trust me.”
“What? What do you mean?”
There’s a pause. Then, “Come here.” I hear them move above me and down the ramp. I lift my head to see their feet walking around to the passenger side of the truck, near the door. The rear of the truck partially blocks them from being seen from inside the cave. “It was before your time, man,” Low Voice says clearly. “That kid in there? His daddy apparently found out about this whole operation. Didn’t know about the boss, but apparently knew about Griggs and Walken. She overheard him on the phone one day, talking with the FBI.”
“Oh, shit,” High Pitch breathes. “That guy… that Traynor…?”
“Man, fuck Traynor,” Low Voice says. “The guy was a psychopath. But yeah. Apparently it was the same FBI guy. The kid called him in this time. His daddy did it before. Traynor wasn’t around then, so she got Griggs to do it.”
A chill runs down my spine.
“Do what?”
“Ran the guy off the road when he was going to meet up with the agent. Griggs ran the guy off the road, and he drowned in the river like a mile from here. Fuckedup thing was that it was her brother-in-law.”
The red sheen falls over my eyes. I can’t stop it. I curl my hands into fists at my side.
“Jesus Christ,” High Pitch says. “This is some fucked-up shit, man. Why’re we doing this again?”
“Money,” Low Voice says. “It’s all about the fucking money. But I’m not touching that kid, man. I’m telling you. I don’t even want to be here when it happens. The little shit can die, I just don’t want to see it.”
“What if she tells us we have to go in there when we’re done loading up?”
“We go. We close our eyes. But I’m not pulling the trigger. I can’t do shit like that. But better him than us. Who the fuck is gonna miss him?”