Chapter Four: The Backroads
I spent the night of Vanessa’s “funeral” finding the bottom of a whiskey bottle. Word got to me that the ceremony was attended by only a handful of old classmates and a couple of drunk coworkers. I woke up the next morning to a hangover and a hard realization.
I was still alive.
The last time I was in town, I skated by on pure luck. I got out; I escaped, but I didn’t exactly go underground. Did a shit job of hiding. Hell, Middleton even called my new number the day the line was turned on. There was no reason a resourceful hitter couldn’t track me down and find a way to slip something into my drink, rig up a fake suicide, or just arrange for me to disappear. I needed to get in front of this train, and that meant making preparations.
I started with fifteen jump drives ordered online, overnighted to my office, and paid for from my own bank account. I magnet wiped them all before reformatting and uploading ten gigs of junk data files, then I opened a security deposit box at five different banks, depositing one drive in each, mailed nine of them to old contacts all over the country with no context, and--just for good measure--I buried the last one in a ziplock bag in City Park.
I tried not to be too obvious, but the idea was to keep them guessing. There was no doubt they were watching, and it was only a matter of time before they started collecting the drives. But they could spend years trying to decrypt the files and never realize that it was nothing but gibberish. If there was any bureaucracy to this organization at all, I may have bought myself some time. Somebody had to green light an execution, and hopefully, that same somebody would see my behavior and wonder if I had put together evidence and made a kill switch. If it didn’t work--if they knew I was bluffing--then this entire plan would come to an abrupt end my first night back in town.
It wasn’t enough to keep myself safe, though. I had to account for the one kid I had managed to actually save from that dumpster fire of a town.
Jamie.
When I started making my plans to return, Jamie had done everything in his power to convince me to bring him along. I’m not the paternal type, but there was no way I was going to let another one of Donnie’s kids go missing. So I gave him a project of his own. One that would hopefully keep him out of trouble. He had been in the town when I hadn’t. Had observed things without realizing they would be helpful.
Or, at least, that’s the line I fed him. He needed more than just convincing to stay where he was. He needed a purpose, and I could relate. Never thought I’d see the day where I considered New Orleans to be the safer alternative in terms of living arrangements.
Jamie did prove to be quite helpful. He filled me in on where everything was, the local gossip, and who was important. Not much had changed. Same last names, rotating first names. Same locations, different businesses.
I made the decision to sleep in the town over’s fleabag motel the first night I was back, since I already knew that at least two camps were tracking me (was Roger’s operation large enough to be considered a camp? Probably), and I saw no reason to interrupt their surveillance.
The motel clerk was an old woman with blue hair and more wrinkles than a Shar Pei. The Wheel of Fortune was blaring in the background, and she didn’t bother looking away from the screen as she slid me my key and told me that if I wanted more than one towel, I would have to pay extra.
The room was small and the fluorescent lights overhead hummed and occasionally flickered. The neon “Vacant” sign cast a bright red glow through the window, so I drew the curtains and turned off the lights, save for one small bedside lamp. I prowled the room, examining it up and down in every nook and cranny in an attempt to uncover any cameras or recording devices, but found none. Tried to convince myself this was because they had not known I was going to be checking into this room for the night.
It was one thing for them to bug my car. It was a totally different matter to have my naked body forever part of some fucked up file documenting my every move in this town. Consider me modest.
The room had a phone, a Gideon Bible in the bedside drawer, and a phone book. There was no TV—unsurprising for a place that wanted to charge me extra for the luxury of additional towels. Despite a “NO SMOKING” sign, the acrid smell of cigarettes clung to the room, providing me a cover to sneak my own smoke while I reviewed case notes.
I was hungry and I was tired. It had been a long day, but I still felt no closer to Vanessa than when I started out that morning. Miranda had been a dead end, and Jerry seemed to be more of a liability than an asset. I was on edge, waiting to see if my jump drive idea had panned out, or if whoever was in charge had decided to send somebody to take care of me.
Using the last of my energy, I balanced one of my walkies on the doorknob--a poor man’s proximity alarm--and put down pieces of double sided throughout the room, then double checked the batteries in the carbon monoxide detector in my go bag. I slept with a gun under my pillow, but I knew if they were coming for me, I’d never get the chance to use it anyway.
I laid down on top of the comforter to shut my eyes for a few minutes. I could hear police sirens and people talking outside.
Find Vanessa. Bring her home.
The next thing I knew, I was awake again and sunlight was streaming in through the stingy window.
Despite the fact that the walkie had never fallen, the next morning I noticed a couple pieces of double sided tape were unaccounted for. Someone, or something, had been in my room while I slept. It didn’t appear any new bugs had been added to the several already attached to my car and bags, so I took it as a message: *we’re near, and we’re waiting. *
Somehow I didn’t figure the person who sent the message meant it to be a comfort. But since they hadn’t killed me, I was going to chalk it up as a win.
Hell, maybe this dump just had a rat problem.
I packed up all of my stuff and cleared out of the hotel, returning the key to the wizened old woman at the desk, who had swapped over to watching The Price is Right. I double checked the car for explosives (besides the ones I brought), then I began the journey back into the belly of the beast.
Staying out of town left me with time to think as I drove. I made a point to take the backroads, through the woods. It would add more time to my trip, but it was worth it if it kept them guessing. While the twisting roads and engine hum lulled me into a road trance, my mind drifted back to that night in Roach’s club.
“You don’t shake easy, sugar. What’s different now?”
“Roach, I’ve encountered a lot in this line of work. And even with all the shit I’ve seen, there’s been a reason. It might not be apparent, and it might not be logical, but it’s always there. Not with this town. I can’t find my footing.”
“Have you ever considered you make up reasons to explain the things you’ve seen before? I gave up on trying to understand things years ago. I blame it on men.”
“Yeah, yeah. It’s always the men.” Here I was baring my soul, and Roach was talking about the fucking *patriarchy? *
She shot me a look. One that told me I better shut my mouth and open my ears. Which I did. Because Roach has sharp shoes and an even sharper tongue, and I didn’t want to be on the receiving end of either.
“You don’t see women running around doing stupid shit with no rhyme or reason. You’ve spent this entire time thinking like a man; have you considered approaching it like a woman?”
“I try not to think about the situation at all, if I’m being honest.”
“That’s the problem with you. No thinking. Just ego. You need a plan. One that involves using your brains rather than your balls.”
“Roach, you have bigger stones than anyone I know.”
“Honey, I know. And I keep them in my purse.”
Something flew by my peripheral vision, snapping me out of the revery. I threw a look over my shoulder, but it was too late. Whatever was there on the side of the road was gone now, if it had ever been there in the first place.
There’s no fucking way.
Had I imagined that?
It looked just like her, but that’s impossible… isn’t it?
I eased onto the brakes and turned around in my seat. That section of forest was about to disappear from my view as the car rounded a corner.
I considered stopping, turning the car around, and going back to see if my mind was playing tricks on me, or if I’d really just seen that little girl standing on the side of the road near the forest. Her clothes, dirty and tattered. Her eyes, full of hate. Her blonde hair matted like the fur of a feral animal.
This wasn’t the first time I’d seen her. That had been months ago. Just moments before I killed her father and brother in self-defense. Before the truck we were in flipped. I looked for her after the crash, but if I’m being honest, I didn’t look very hard. And when the powers that be tried to make the whole thing disappear, I put her entire fucking redneck cannibal family out of my mind.
I was still considering turning around, going back to see if it was really her. Another missing girl to sidetrack me. But before I could make up my mind, I turned a corner and saw something impossible in the middle of the road.
“Jesus!” I screamed as I yanked the wheel hard to the right. The tires screeched against the pavement, and I went off the shoulder, crashing into a wet ditch hard enough to deploy the airbag. It smacked me in the face and made me see stars for a few seconds, but I didn’t have any time to shake it off. As soon as my wits were back I reached into the center console for my Beretta 9mm.
There was no question. I was back in crazy town, and they had rolled out the welcome wagon.
I knew that the thing I saw in the middle of the road couldn’t be real. Not in the same world that I had always known. But the last time I was home, I came to realize that things don’t have to be real to kill you. I told myself to stay put. Leaving the car was a death sentence. That thing is out there, and you’re in here, and right now that’s probably the only reason you’re alive.
I put the car in reverse and gave it some gas, but the tires weren’t catching.
Shit.
I put it in drive and tried rocking back and forth, but no dice. This beater didn’t have four wheel drive, and unless somebody else came down this backroad who could pull me out, I was stuck. And even if they did, chances weren’t good that I’d want their help.
I took a deep breath and looked out my window at the thing that had forced me off the road in the first place. I blinked a few times, half expecting it to vanish. But it wasn’t going anywhere.
It was sprawled out across both lanes. I couldn’t see where it started, because the tail end went off the other side of the road. But its head was right here, six feet away from my car door.
It was a fucking dinosaur.
I double checked to make sure the gun had bullets, one was chambered, and the safety was off, then I looked back out the window at the beast.
It hadn’t moved an inch since I first saw it.
Maybe it’s fake?
That thought was only a brief comfort, as I quickly remembered the juggernauts I’d encountered on my last visit to town. As much as I wanted to, I couldn’t afford to assume that anything here wasn’t completely lethal.
With my gun trained on the monster, I used my free hand to unbuckle my seat belt, reach into my pocket, pull out my pack of smokes, and fish one out. I lit it, took a puff, and waited for my nerves to calm down enough for me to properly assess the situation.
The thing outside my car window was an enormous immobile alligator, one that looked like it started crossing the road and then fell asleep. Gators aren’t unheard of around these parts, but this creature--if it was real--would easily be a new world record. At least twenty-feet long, with a head big enough to snap a deer in half in one bite. About four feet tall at the highest point. Like I said, it was a fucking dinosaur.
The car wasn’t going anywhere any time soon. It was a shame, but in hindsight I’d probably made the right choice swerving off the road. Running into that thing would have been like hitting a brick wall.
I grabbed my phone and flicked it on. More bad news there. No signal detected.
I waited until the smoke was spent, staring at the creature the whole time. Trying to detect any kind of movement. Any breathing. Anything. But it didn’t move. It just laid there like a fallen oak.
I shelled out a lot of money preparing for this trip. Ironically, most of it went into this piece of shit car. You wouldn’t know it from looking, but the windows and windshield were all made of polycarbonate plastic. The door frames were packed with phones books, and the tires were all filled with sealant. The gas mileage was shit, but the car was effectively bulletproof. I was sitting in a shelter with a monster outside the window. As long as I stayed put, it couldn’t hurt me. But then again, I couldn’t stay here forever.
Two possible options appeared before me. I could wait, hoping that the next person to come around that corner was friendly. Or I could unlock the door and try to find a way to get free from this ditch.
Time was ticking away while I tried to make a decision.
I reached for another cigarette when the phone started ringing. I jumped at the sound.
What the hell?
I don’t know what I was expecting, but I sure as shit wasn’t expecting to see Donny’s number on the caller ID. I let the phone ring while I lit the smoke.
Here we go again. They’re gonna try and get inside your head. This is what they do.
I answered.
“What do you want?”
“Well is that any way to talk to family?”
“You’re not my family.”
“Eric. It’s me. Donny.”
“Go fuck yourself sideways. I’m here to get my niece back, so do yourselves a favor and get out of my way.”
“She’s alive, Eric. That’s what I wanted to tell you.”
“I’m not buying this. My brother died.”
“I know I did. But they brought me back. Most of me anyway. But I don’t have my same senses anymore. I don’t get hungry. I can’t see anything. I don’t feel, except for pain sometimes when they want me to. But somehow I know things. There are hundreds of us, just like me. They don’t know that I’m talking to you, but I need you to know that they’re coming for you. Right now. They know about the jump drives. They don’t care what’s on them. You’re making them scared and stupid. The order came out today. Everyone knows to kill you on sight. Do you understand? No more cover ups. If you go back into town, the sheriff will put a bullet in you on main street without a second’s hesitation.”
“You’re a terrible liar.”
“You have to get moving. They’re five minutes out.”
The line disconnected.
I went ahead and lit that second cigarette.
They’re messing with you, Eric. That’s the only logical explanation. The fact that they want you to move means that you’re doing the right thing staying put.
Outside of this town, logic and reason had been assets. But so had my gut. And in this town, only one of those three really seemed to matter. Right now, my gut was telling me that the voice on the phone--whether it was Donny, or them, or something else entirely--was right. I needed to move.
FUCK!
I crawled over the center console and opened the door on the passenger’s side. That thing in the road still hadn’t moved, but I wasn’t going to take my eyes off of it for long. I needed to find something to put under the tires. My first step into the ditch put me ankle-deep in hot mud. Well, nobody said this was going to be easy.
I shut the car door and-
It was like a bomb dropped. Everything happened so fast I couldn’t keep up with it in the moment. The trees on the other side of the road shook. Birds erupted into the sky. I could feel the ground shake beneath my feet and the noise exploded in my ear drums.
It finally moved.
The beast jerked its enormous head in my direction. The only thing between us was the car--the source of the blaring noise.
My car alarm was going off! Something must have gotten screwed up in the crash. Just my luck.
In a split second, the alligator and I both lunged towards the vehicle. Even though it was six feet away and I was right next to it, the beast got there first.
Its jaws snapped onto the hood of the car, and the vehicle lifted. The car door slammed into me, knocking me flat onto my back in the mud. I struggled back to my feet, then I went for the door, caught the handle, yanked it open, and dove inside, slamming it shut behind me.
The car continued to rock back and forth, and before I knew it, I was moving. We were sliding across the road. Through the front window, I could see that the gator had latched onto the hood, and for the first time I realized that this animal had no eyes. I didn’t have long to wonder how this thing got along before we jerked forward again. It was moving backwards, dragging the entire car with it. I dove into the driver’s seat and put the keys into the ignition. In front of me, the hood buckled around the creature’s teeth and the alarm went abruptly silent.
Fuck.
I turned the key, but there was nothing. The alligator had bitten right through the battery, and now it was pulling me into the woods. The tires went off the asphalt into the mud, and suddenly the gator had a much easier job. We went fast, as fast as the thing could drag us. If it was about to take me into a swamp or bog, I was toast. This car may be bulletproof, but that wasn’t going to save me from drowning.
I said a quick prayer. If God or the devil or whoever was prolonging my sorry excuse for a life felt like sending me another deus ex miracle, now was the fucking time to do it. But I wasn’t going to hold my breath. The alligator released its bite, repositioned, and clamped down again. This time, the windshield went spider web and I had an all too uneasy feeling of deja-vu. The car lurched on, deeper into the forest, and I jumped into the back, pulling away the middle seat and opening the trunk access compartment. My 9mm may as well have been a bb gun against this thing, and if I hoped to do any damage, I’d need a weapon to fit the job.
It took me a few precious seconds to find the emergency supplies bag and pull it through to the backseat. A few more to fish out one of the M67 frag grenades I’d decided to pack “just in case.”
The car grew darker as the creature dragged me deeper into the woods, under the thick cover of tree branches where only minimal sunlight could reach. We moved in short bursts, then it would let go, readjust its bite, and start again. I had no idea where it was taking me and no desire to find out. The plan was to cook the grenade, open the door, and lob it. It had a lethal blast radius of fifteen feet, and there was a pretty good chance I’d eat some blowback if I didn’t time it just right. But I had to try something.
Right then is when things went from weird to insane.
The car stopped, and rather than bite into the engine again, the monstrous alligator whipped its head to the side. It was looking, or listening, for something. At first, the only thing I could hear was my heart pounding, but after a few still seconds, I heard it too.
A radio.
And it was getting closer.
I looked out the window in the direction of the noise, then said to nobody in particular, “Oh you’ve got to be fucking kidding me right now.”
The song was one of those new-aged dubstep, techno whatever-you-call-thems. The kind of song that’s comprised mostly of electronic noise with no real discernible rhythm and a beat designed to compliment a dance club on ecstacy.
It was coming from an old-fashioned, oversized boombox, which was being carried by the man in the bear suit. He was holding it over his head and walking straight towards the car. The alligator backed away from me, and I realized that I was about to witness a man/bear being brutally ripped to pieces by a prehistoric monster. There was no way I could save him. I’d tried to prepare myself for any possible scenario, but that was not something I was ready to see.
The alligator took off at full speed, faster than a burnt cat, whipping its tail into the side of the car hard enough to put it onto two wheels for a split second. Yet again, I couldn’t believe what had just happened. The alligator had turned and run off in the opposite direction, away from the man in the bear suit.
The man doubled his speed, running right at me like he were chasing the beast away. When he reached the car, he jumped onto the contorted hood, where he set down the radio and cranked the volume up as loud as it would go. Then, facing away from me, he grabbed his head with both hands and twisted the bear mask around 180 degrees so that the face was staring at me with those giant black button eyes. He started to dance, poking both middle fingers into the air and waving his ass in my direction, then he jumped down and ran off the same way the alligator had gone, his face pointed behind him the entire time, staring at me until he disappeared into the forest.
And just like that, the whole thing was over. I had to wait a few more seconds until my heartbeat returned to normal, then I put my game face back on. I’d already been through this before. I’d have time to freak out later, to wonder what’s real, to give another shrink a reason to to retire. But right now wasn’t that time. This whole thing was the kick in the pants I needed. A reminder that things in this town don’t play by any of the rules I’m used to.
I hated it, but I knew what I had to do next. Abandoning my car was always part of the plan, even if I thought I’d have another day or two. And I thought I’d be doing it on my terms. But I could adapt. I needed to.
I grabbed only the things I needed. My go bag. My Beretta. My cellphone and wallet. The rest would have to stay here, but I couldn’t allow them to dissect the contents of my car. I needed to keep my plan to myself, which meant there was only one thing left to do.
I connected the improvised grenade casing through the trunk compartment in the back seat and fixed the pin to the wire tied to the roof of the trunk. If somebody opened the back of the car without disconnecting it first, they’d only have a couple seconds to reevaluate their life decisions before the grenade took them out--along with most of my supplies.
I locked the car doors, turned off the boombox, then consulted my compass to be sure I was heading in the right direction. I was about two miles from the gas station if I cut straight through the woods. Fortunately, I was heading away from the bear man and the giant alligator, but the gun wasn’t going to leave my grip until I was standing inside an air conditioned building with the doors closed behind me.
I was about a mile into my trip when I heard the explosion.
Some unlucky sap had gone looking where he shouldn’t have.
It was a damn shame. There was a lot of gear in there that I could have used.
---
Credits
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