Some Laneys Died: A Skipping Sideways Thriller

by Brooke Skipstone

  I drive to the playground, pull over, and open my messages. Nothing to Gibbs about Dad missing at the airport. Nothing to Mom about twins. But Bailee’s photo is there as I knew it would be. She stares at me as I touch the screen. “I need you.”

  I imagine looking into her face, mouthing my name, just before dying in the blind. Later I see her leaving the store, probably going to the park where somehow she’s caught, along with Gus. She needs me. I press my face against the screen and feel my body being pulled. The world around me swirls. I can hear her crying, gagging. I flinch back and see the photo. I swear I hear her say Laney.

  A text from Jag. I’m at the park. Where are you?

  A surge of warmth rushes up from my toes. Yes! I text back. On my way. I go back to Bailee’s photo and kiss her lips. I’m coming for you, Sis. Hold on. I shift gears and race toward the gate.

  After ten minutes, I turn at the intersection, heading for the park. Soon, I find Jag standing against his car. He squints into the headlights then bends down to look into my passenger window. He smiles.

  “You’re good at following instructions,” I say as I jump out of my car. “I like that in a man.”

  “When did you fly back?”

  I squeeze him to me. “I didn’t.” Knowing what’s under his clothes makes me push myself closer to him.

  “Then how?”

  I look into his eyes. “You know that choice I made at the airport, to fly rather than spend one or two days with you?”

  “Yes.”

  “One version of me stayed. I’m not sure what we did yesterday, but I just left you naked in my bed at home.” His eyes widen. “You want proof? OK. You have tan lines on your legs right here.” I trace them on his pants. “I’d really like to see you in that suit, by the way. And you have a very thin line of hair from your belly button to your . . .”

  He stops my hand.

  “Am I wrong? I can give you more details if you want.” I can still feel his soft breath on my hair. I so want to kiss his lips. “We were sleeping after sex.”

  With a little hint of skepticism, he says, “We had sex.”

  “Yes.”

  His breath quickens. “Was it good? That would’ve been my first time.”

  The magnetism is overwhelming. I can feel my skin heating. “I’m sure it was, but I don’t remember. We’re probably having another round right now.”

  His chest rises and falls as he licks his lips. “We could go to your house and see.”

  “I’d love to, but I need to save Bailee first. And hopefully Gus.”

  “Who?”

  I pull out the gun and bullets. “First, tell me if this is loaded and whether you can use it.”

  He looks around, takes the gun and puts his back toward the road. “It’s not legal for us to carry this.” He ejects the clip, checks it, and pushes it back into the handle. “It’s loaded. Why are you carrying a gun?”

  I tell him about Caden and Bailee and my vision in the blind, plus the Amber Alert.

  “I think Bailee wanted me to come here. She’s trying to find me. I saw her in Cabela’s just before I met you. I should’ve called out to her, but I didn’t know who she was.”

  “Laney, this is crazy.”

  “I know, but it’s true. For some reason, I’m able to skip between worlds. So is Bailee. You don’t have to believe in this if you don’t want to, but I need you to help me.”

  “Caden tortured you?”

  “Before he killed me. I think he’s killed me more than once. Different versions of him have killed versions of me.”

  He’s frozen, unwilling to walk away but unable to take this leap of faith in me.

  I back away from him toward the trail. “You can come with me or not, but I’m going after my sister.”

  He breathes in deep and blows air through his mouth. “Not by yourself. I’ll hunt with you.” He pulls a flashlight out of his truck and a large knife. “Where might Caden be hiding?”

  I explain where the footpath is. I want him to break off the trail before the path and circle around through the trees. “No lights. The moon is almost full. We can see enough.” I remember how bright the outdoors is in Alaska. But then Caden could see us coming a mile away.

  We head out silently, stopping every few minutes to listen. Leaves swirl in the breeze. Birds chirp. About a quarter mile before we get to the limestone steps, I signal to Jag where he should go. He gives me the pistol, shows me how to switch off the safety, and squeezes my hand.

  “Don’t get hurt,” he says.

  I kiss him quickly on his lips. He nods and slips through the trees. I take a deep breath, and walk forward. Soon, I walk down the steps, keeping my hand on the pistol in my pocket. I move along the junipers to my left then climb the steps and see the path. My eyes strain to see into shadows. My ears listen for the slightest sound as I walk.

  After twenty steps, I lose the path but keep walking in the same direction. I’m close to entering a more forested area, wondering where Jag is and whether he can see me.

  I think I hear a step and a rub against bark. I freeze. Should I pull out my gun? I take more steps, using my hands to move moss and thin limbs out of the way.

  A step! Then a prick into my thigh. I jerk to my right and see a tube pulled back through foliage. My vision clouds. I stagger against a tree trunk, trying to stay on my feet. A hand slams against my mouth from behind. I see the other hand holding a dart, moving toward my leg. I push my body back and try to bite his fingers.

  Jag’s hand grips the attacker’s wrist and twists the arm away from me. The attacker screams in pain and releases me. I duck and stumble forward onto the ground. I hear grunts after each of Jag’s punches, then nothing but flesh and muscle being beaten and torn.

  Jag slams the body onto the ground, both arms twisted, wrists pushed high against the back. He pulls off the attacker’s facemask, and I see Garrett, unconscious, blood dripping from his nose.

  “Are you OK?” asks Jag.

  “A little fuzzy, but fine.”

  “Is this Caden?”

  “No, it’s his brother, Garrett. Caden’s got to be close by.”

  “Check his pockets. Phone, weapon, radio. Anything.”

  I find a phone. Jag flips Garrett over. I take a dart from one jacket pocket and a roll of duct tape from the other. “He jammed one of these into my leg.” I feel the gun in my pocket near the penetration area. “The needle didn’t go far enough in because of my gun.”

  I look behind me and find the jabber stick, the same one I’d seen in Caden’s blind. “There must be some kind of tranquilizer in these darts.”

  Garrett groans. Jag grabs his throat with one hand and raises his fist above Garrett’s eyes. “Do what I tell you, and I won’t break your face.”

  Garrett’s eyes bulge. He tries to nod. His eyes flash to me as I hold the dart above his face. “You piece of shit. You’re partners with Caden now?” I ask. “Where’s Bailee? And Gus?” I move the needle to his eye. “Where are they?”

  “In a trailer. About three hundred yards away. Sits in a backyard that butts up against the park.”

  Jag holds Garrett’s phone. “Are you supposed to contact Caden?”

  Garrett tightens his mouth. Jag grabs Garrett’s hand and snaps his pinky sideways. Garrett bucks his chest and begins to scream, but Jag clamps his mouth.

  He removes his hand. “I’ll ask again. Are you supposed to contact Caden?” Jag grabs Garrett’s thumb and begins to bend it sideways.

  “Yes!”

  “How?”

  “A text.”

  “Saying what?”

  “Done.”

  Jag holds up the phone. “What’s your code?”

  “7450.”

  Jag enters the code and opens Messages. He turns the screen to Garrett. “Bro?”

  “Yeah.”

  Jag punches in letters. After a second, he turns the phone to Garrett. “He says, ‘Do you need help?’ What’s the answer?”

 
; “No, I’m good.”

  Jag grabs his thumb and bends. Garrett squirms. “That’s the answer!”

  Jag sends the message. “How do you get into the trailer?”

  “He sees me coming with the body and opens the door.”

  “There’s a camera?”

  “Lots of cameras.”

  I lean over him. He would have raped me in the truck if I hadn’t called 911. “How many times have you done this, Garrett? You’re no better than Caden.”

  He turns his face away.

  “Maybe we should call the police,” I say.

  Garrett laughs. “Yeah. Do that and see what happens. Caden’s got cameras everywhere. If he sees cops coming from anywhere, he’ll blow up the trailer. He’s got an escape hatch and everything. You won’t get near the trailer before your friends are dead.”

  Jag stands up over him. “Take off your clothes.” He steps on Garrett’s hand.

  “What are you doing?” I ask him.

  “Caden’s got to think I’m Garrett bringing you back. He’s tall enough, and his clothes are baggy. Should work.” He twists his foot on Garrett’s hand. “You going to cooperate?”

  Garrett nods then sits up and pulls off his sweatshirt. He starts to stand.

  “On the ground. Just slide them off.” Jag puts on the shirt.

  Garrett lies back and pushes his sweatpants off.

  “Now turn onto your stomach.” As Garrett flops over, Jag pulls on the pants.

  I take the rope out of my sweatshirt and hand it to Jag.

  “You came prepared.” He ties a noose around Garrett’s neck, forces his wrists high up his back then ties them with the other end. He uses the other rope to tie his ankles together then connects both ropes so Garrett’s body is curved up off the ground. He wraps tape around Garrett’s head, covering his mouth.

  “Stick that dart into his butt,” Jag tells me.

  “Gladly.” I jam him harder than I have to. We both watch Garrett lose consciousness. I find the facemask and hand it to Jag. “You’re good at this.”

  “Twelve years of karate and MMA, lots of simulations and video games, but this is the first time outside of a ring. This is going to be dangerous, Laney. We don’t know what’s inside the trailer. Garrett could be lying about the bombs or not.”

  “If Caden opens the door, I know you can take him. Besides, I’ll have my gun in my sleeve. I know what he’s done to Bailee. It’s my fault she’s in there.”

  “OK. Let’s go.” He pulls on the mask and takes the tape.

  We walk quickly through the trees until we see lights. Houses back up against the park, most with privacy fences. But one has a chain link fence with a gate and an old camper trailer nearby.

  Jag rips off a piece of tape and presses it against my mouth. “I figure Garrett would keep you quiet. Got your gun?”

  I push my hand and the gun out of my sleeve then pull it back in.

  “OK. Over my shoulder.” He picks me up like I weigh nothing and hangs my head along his back. “Be limp. You’re supposed to be unconscious.”

  I relax, though my heart pounds in my chest.

  “Here we go.”

  He moves out of the trees toward a path leading to the gate. I hear the squeak of the metal handle and the door opening. Then he stands still, waiting for the trailer door to open.

  But it doesn’t. Shit!

  Five seconds go by. I shift my head slowly to the side and squint through barely opened lids. My eyes acclimate to the dim light, and I think I see something glint in the trees to my left. I stare harder and see it again. Maybe a gun barrel?

  Do I warn Jag? Do I shoot?

  My breathing accelerates. I have to make a choice. Wait or shoot.

  I know I see something. I won’t die wishing I’d acted. I thrust my right arm out and fire several shots. Jag flinches, turning me away from the trees.

  “No! Someone is there. Put me down.”

  He does, and I shoot twice more. We both hear a grunt. One of the bullets hit someone. Has to be Caden. “Get them out! Now!”

  Jag jerks open the door and races up the steps inside. I follow after. We’re in the kitchen. A hallway leads to the back. We open a door and see Bailee standing on her toes, trying to make some slack in the rope around her neck. She’s naked and bruised, her eyes barely opened. Porn is taped up everywhere—ceiling, door, walls. A large computer monitor plays a brutal video of a girl being whipped. The smell of sex overpowers—bitter, musky, fishy, stale. And underneath that is urine and the earthy, skunky smell of weed.

  Jag slices the rope with his knife and catches her. I see Gus tied up behind her.

  “Cut his ropes,” I tell Jag. “I’ll hold her.”

  He shifts Bailee to me. I pull the tape off her mouth and remove the noose around her neck. “Bailee! Talk to me. Please.”

  I hear Jag cutting ropes. “This is going to hurt.” He rips off the tape around Gus’ mouth, surely pulling hair out of his moustache. Gus growls. “Can you stand? We need to get out of here now.”

  “Yeah,” says Gus in a hoarse, breathy voice. “Help me up. I can walk.”

  Jag picks up Bailee and moves past me. I help Gus as he stumbles to the door. We exit the trailer.

  “Move toward the house,” yells Jag. “I need an address.”

  He runs with Bailee. I put my arm around Gus, and we try walking quickly. Jag gets to the side gate before us. He sets Bailee down against the fence, opens the gate, and runs to the front yard.

  After another minute, Gus and I reach the fence. He slumps against it. I kneel before Bailee. “Garrett told us that the trailer is wired to . . .”

  Explosions throw us against the fence. The trailer leaps up in a fireball and crashes onto its side.

  Jag returns. “I think they’ll find us now.” He pulls off his sweatshirt and pants and gives them to me. “Put them on her.”

  Bailee’s eyes watch the trailer. “Did you get them?” she asks, barely above a whisper.

  “I wounded Caden. Don’t know if he got away. Garrett’s tied up back in the park. Lean forward if you can. Let me put this on you.”

  She reaches for my arm. “I knew you’d come.”

  27

  When the police see Jag waving his hands to flag them down, they bolt out of their cars with guns drawn and order him face down on the grass. The rest of us stumble through the gate into the yard.

  “Hands above your heads!” someone yells at us. Bailee tries to lift one arm. I won’t let go of her to lift both of mine.

  One cop holds a shotgun pointed at Jag while another kneels to the ground and frisks him.

  Gus takes a step forward. “My name is Gustavus McClintock. I work as a security guard at Country Day. That young man you’re abusing and this young lady just saved us from dying in that trailer. The criminals are running away behind us while you’re fooling around here.” He stumbles to the ground.

  EMTs race toward him. Another comes to Bailee who’s having trouble standing on her feet. Soon after brief questioning by the police, Gus and Bailee are taken by ambulances to the hospital. Jag and I, however, have to spend much more time explaining what happened. It’s obvious they suspect him. I can’t help but think Jag’s skin color contributes to this treatment.

  I avoid any mention of skipping, but that becomes very difficult when I’m asked why we went to the park and trail that night. I tell them I changed my ticket to Alaska to sneak time with my boyfriend. Then when I heard nothing from Gus and Bailee, we decided to check out the trail ourselves. We didn’t expect Garrett to attack us, and because he warned us about the explosions, we decided to try the rescue ourselves.

  One officer asks, “Who fired a gun? We had reports of gunfire.”

  “Caden shot at us as we stood outside the door,” I say. “Garrett said there’s an escape hatch in the trailer. Caden must’ve seen us coming, escaped, then fired. We ran inside the trailer to get our friends.”

  Jag had wanted me to bury the gun and bulle
ts before the police arrived, but I told him I needed to return them to my house. He taped them against both of my legs and made sure they’d be hidden under my sweatpants. I sure hope they don’t decide to frisk me.

  A SWAT team arrives and moves into the park. The officers give us a ride back to our cars. We’re told Garrett is missing. They recovered the ropes and tape, but the jab stick is gone. Another version of Caden escapes unpunished.

  We drive to the hospital where we show IDs and complete forms. After much too long, I’m able to see Gus while Jagger stays in the waiting room.

  I peak around the door and see him lying on his bed, head elevated a little. He looks old and scared and very bald. His big hat always hid his lack of hair from us. I enter the room. He tries to smile when he sees me, but it’s strained.

  “Are you in much pain?” I ask.

  “Stiff mainly. Dehydrated, which is why they’ve stuck me with this.” He holds up his arm with the IV tube. “And hungry, but they’re going to bring me food in a bit.”

  I can’t stop tears filling my eyes. “I’m sorry, Gus. I shouldn’t have asked you to go. I knew Caden was evil.”

  “You had no idea how evil he is. Or Garrett. I sure didn’t expect him to be part of this.”

  I want to say I did know how evil because I’d experienced it, but Gus doesn’t need more complications to worry about.

  “They were going to kill us later tonight. Good thing you and that boy came. Who is he?”

  “Jagger. I met him Wednesday. Turned out to be a very lucky encounter.”

  He stares at the ceiling and closes his eyes.

  “How’d they catch you?” I ask.

  “I found the path you mentioned and followed it until I saw the hunting blind. Was just about to check the insides, when I felt a needle in my butt. Some kind of knockout drug. I woke up in the trailer, tied and taped, my feet on fire. But it was Caden and Garrett sticking me with their electric prods. They never got bored using it. They’re both sexual deviants. Perverts of the worst kind.”

  “And Bailee?”

  “She was there when I woke up. I don’t know when she was caught.” He looks away, his chin trembling. “When you see her, please tell her I’m sorry.”