“Rusck,” I called softly. I didn’t want to be too loud because I didn’t know if our wannabe assassin was still waiting around for us. “Rusck,” I called again. No response.
I slowly sat up, which immediately drew attention to the pain in my head. Sitting back on my feet, I rubbed my temple with the heel of my hand and tried to squint into the night, but I got nothing. Luckily, my phone was still in my back pocket. Or so I thought. It was folded-up copies of some of the things we had printed from the microfiche.
My stomach flipped and flopped, and I swallowed down some rising bile, but I couldn’t just sit there in the dark, so I got on my hands and knees and started crawling around the forest floor in hopes of coming upon Rusck. Twigs and rocks jabbed into my palms and knees, and I slowly crawled along, softly calling out to Rusck. I went a good number of feet in the one direction, turned around, and went back in the direction I started from.
A wind started up and ripped right through the thin jacket I wore. My teeth began to chatter. I continued crawling back and forth, up and down, reaching out with my hands, calling and getting nothing back. After crawling for so long, I stood, swaying a bit from the dizziness in my head, but I didn’t tip over. Hopefully, the new vantagepoint would yield me a little light and not a bullet. Stepping back, my foot caught on something, and down I went. It wasn’t a something. It was a someone. My heart stopped beating.
I squatted next to Rusck. He lay face down, with his head turned to the side and an arm tucked underneath his body. I put my face next to his, and my heart started to beat again when I felt his breath on my cheek.
“Rusck, Rusck,” I said, gently shaking him. No response. I reached my hand under him and felt for his jacket pocket. I slipped my hand in and found what I was looking for, his phone. Thankfully, he still had it, but, unfortunately, it had no reception. “Crap,” I whispered to myself. But at least it provided me with some light.
I shined the phone on Rusck’s face, which was covered with his hair. I tried to push his hair back, but it was plastered to his face, and when I pulled my hand away and rubbed my fingertips together, I could see the slipperiness I felt on them was blood.
“Rusck,” I said. “Wake up, please!” I shook his shoulders some more but quickly realized my effort wasn’t working. I lay on the cold forest floor next to him, wrapping my arm around his waist, hoping we’d at least be able to provide each other some warmth.
I was too cold to sleep. Even with Rusck’s body heat, I still shivered. Every slight breeze blew through my clothes right to my bones. I tried to weigh my options on what my next step should be—try to find someone or some kind of help by making my way out of the woods. But I couldn’t leave Rusck. I didn’t know if I’d be able to explain to the police where in the forest I left him, and I just couldn’t leave him by himself, anyway. And pretty much my only other option was to wait until somebody found us. I curled into Rusck’s side and let every little noise I heard fill me with paranoia. What if whoever was after us was still out there? And if they were, what would they do if they found us? Before I could freak myself out too much, Rusck started to stir.
He let out a couple moans, and then his eyes fluttered open.
“Rusck,” I said softly.
His eyes looked over to my face and then all around.
“Rusck,” I said again.
He croaked out a word that might have been “yes.”
I sat up and tucked my legs under me.
“What…I, uh,” Rusck stuttered, trying to form a sentence.
“You’ve been out for a while.”
He reached up and touched his cheek. Then, with a groan of pain, he rolled himself onto his back.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“I think so,” he replied. “What happened?” He tried to sit up, and I put my hand on the small of his back for a little extra support.
“You don’t remember?”
“Yes, no…I don’t know. Oh my god, my head,” Rusck mumbled, bringing his fingertips to his temples. “I think I’m gonna…” And before he could finish his sentence, he bent over to his left side and retched on the forest floor.
“You must have a pretty good concussion.”
Rusck wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his jacket and tried to stand. He quickly sat back down.
“Not a good idea?” I said, asking the obvious.
“No.” He took in a deep breath, winced, and grabbed his side.
“Besides your head, what hurts?”
“Everything. Where’s Creed?” His gaze darted around, looking for his brother.
I put my hands on his shoulders. “Rusck, he wasn’t with us.”
“I swear he just…”
“You hit your head pretty hard, okay? When you can stand, we’ve got to get you outta here.”
“It’s cold.”
“Yes, it is. But, Rusck—”
“Here, take my jacket,” he said, trying to peel off his blazer.
“You need it. You’re hurt, and you’re bleeding.”
“You are too.”
“I’m what?”
“Hurt.”
“No, I’ll be fine.”
Rusck reached up and pinched my chin. “You have a scratch.”
I reached up and squeezed his fingers that touched my chin, realizing that if he could see a scratch on my chin, it must’ve started to get lighter out. “Hopefully, we’ll be able to find our way outta here soon. I think the sun’s starting to come up.”
“You can get warm.”
“I’m not cold.”
“You’re shivering,” he said, pulling off his blazer with a grimace. “Here,” he said, holding it out. “Barf and all.”
I took his blazer and slipped it on over my jacket, noticing that half of his hoodie was way darker than the other.
I gasped. “You’re bleeding everywhere.”
“Yeah, I think someone shot me.”
“You did get shot. You can’t be sitting here. We have to get moving.”
“Somewhere over here,” he said, pointing to the outer right side of his ribcage, where it was pretty darn obvious. “I’m pretty sure it’s nothing major. I’m still alive, right? I am, right?”
“Yes, but you need medical attention.”
“I might,” Rusck said, wincing. “You know?”
“What?” I said, standing.
“My name is Rusck.”
“Yes, I know.”
“Wanted to make sure you knew.”
“Don’t worry, I know.”
“Good,” Rusck said, looking around.
“It is?”
“It really is, because I like you.”
“I like you too. Now, Rusck, c’mon. Get up.” I slid my arm around him and helped him get to his feet. We stood, and he stumbled a few feet backward.
“Where to?”
“That way,” I said, pointing into the forest ahead.
We started our journey forward as the sun slowly rose around us. We walked in silence for a while, concentrating on where we needed to go.
After a bit, Rusck asked, “Are we going in the right direction?”
“I’m pretty sure.”
“Okay, just checking. My phone has a compass on it.”
“Well, that’s good, but do we know if we need to be headed south, north, or what?”
“I don’t know. This sucks.”
“Well put.”
It started to get brighter, and I was able to see Rusck in a better light. Blood covered half of his face with his hair plastered to his cheek. A thick cut went across the top of his nose, and blood dripped from his fingertips.
“You’re still bleeding,” I said.
“I think it just started again.”
“It’s probably from the walking. Maybe you should sit down. Wait, I thought you were shot in the side?”
Rusck shrugged.
“Sit,” I told him. I unzipped and peeled off his hoodie.
I grabbed his right wrist and pul
led out his arm. Rusck bit his lip and wrinkled his nose. There was a bloody, pulpy-looking mess on the underside of his upper arm. Blood trailed all down his arm, dripping off his fingers. I didn’t know a lot about treating wounds, but I was pretty sure trying to control the amount of blood oozing out of one would do it some good. I shook off Rusck’s blazer, unzipped my jacket, and pulled my sweater over my head.
“What are you doing?” Rusck asked.
“I’m going to try to bandage that up.”
“By stripping?”
“I’m gonna use my tank top.” I pulled my tank top off then slipped my sweater back on. I looked at Rusck and smiled. “You probably should’ve closed your eyes.” I gently wrapped my shirt around his arm and tied it in place. “That should help a little.”
“Thanks.”
“Welcome,” I said. “Now let’s look at your other wound.”
“I think that is okay for now. It’s nothing major.”
I pointed at his side. “Your shirt is soaked in blood.”
“Yeah, and?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at me.
“Well, you’re hurt. You’ve been shot.”
“I think it just kinda grazed me. I’ll be fine.”
“How do you know? Have you ever been shot before?”
“No, not that I recall, but anyway, what good is looking at it gonna do? We have no other bandage options unless you plan on fully stripping.”
“You’re stubborn.”
“I’ve been told.”
I sighed, pulling out Rusck’s phone to check if there was any reception. “Oh my god, look. We actually have a little bit of a bar there. I’m gonna call for help.” I dialed 911, and after what seemed like an inappropriately long time, an operator picked up.
“911, what’s your emergency?” she asked.
“Uh, hello, we’re lost in—” Before I could finish my sentence, the phone cut out. The screen went black. “Crap, I think the battery just died.”
“That’s unfortunate.”
“Very. I guess we’ve got to keep walking. These woods have to end somewhere.”
Rusck clamped his hand on my shoulder, and we continued to trudge along.
“You gonna be okay?” I asked.
“As I said, I’ll be fine.”
Something caught my attention on the ground, a dim shine on the forest floor. Bending over, I picked up the small object.
“What’s that?” Rusck asked.
“I don’t know,” I said, looking at the tiny silver ring. “Somebody’s earring, I guess,” I said, not giving it much thought and slipping it into my back pocket.
I shrugged, and Rusck said, “So, tell me about getting arrested.”
“Of all the things we could talk about.”
“Sorry.”
I sighed. “One official time. The rest were just warnings.”
“Warnings?” Rusck asked, plodding along next to me. The farther we walked, the more he leaned on me for support.
“Yeah. I have made my fair share of poor life choices,” I said, moving my arm, getting a better grasp of him around his waist.
“You’re not the only one. I just never got arrested, but it has left me kind of alone. I have Creed, but no one else left, really.”
“’Cause everybody was such jerks about everything at school?”
“Yeah, and I just kind of pushed those who were left away.”
“Well, I’m here.”
“Good, that makes me happy. Why do you want to help the kids so bad?” Rusck stopped for a moment and winced, wavering a bit on his feet.
“Hey,” I said, rubbing his back. He took in a few deep inhales, slowly letting them out, and then we kept walking. “Besides it being so horrible and tragic and them asking for my help?”
“Okay, reason enough.”
“Maybe, in a way, I want to prove I’m capable of doing good things so people in my life can see I don’t suck so much.”
“You don’t need to prove anything, you know? I already know.”
“Besides you, it seems like no one does.” And without even realizing it, we walked right out of the forest. “Holy crap, we made it. Well, at least out of the forest. Now which way?” I asked, taking in our new surroundings. We stood at the side of a cracking blacktopped road, and across the street was more forest.
“Uh…” Rusck said, looking both ways down the street. “That way,” he said, pointing to the right with his left hand, his right arm hanging limply at his side.
“Sounds good, but do you want to stop and rest?”
“No.”
“I’m just worried about you.” He did not look good at all. His skin lost its color, and sweat dripped down the side of his forehead.
“I’m fine, Gabby.”
I bit my lip, grabbed his left hand, and we started walking once again.
Chapter Sixteen
We didn’t get far before we saw an old, mint green pickup truck coming down the other side of the road. I waved at it, hoping the driver would let us use their phone or give us a ride without it turning into some crime scene drama. The truck whizzed past, but then it slowed down, did a U-turn, and came back in our direction. It pulled up next to us, and the driver reached over the passenger seat and rolled down the window.
“Gabby?” he asked in a husky voice that sounded like he smoked way too many cigarettes. I was confused because I hadn’t the slightest idea who the man in the truck was. He was a pasty-skinned white guy and had an extra chin that looked as if it was trying to consume his very round head which matched his extraordinarily rotund gut. He had on a yellow button-down shirt that looked like he might’ve had to struggle to get into. He ran his hand over his graying comb-over, waiting for my reply.
“Um, yeah,” I finally responded.
“What in the Sam heck happened to you two?”
I drew down my eyebrows and opened my mouth to say something, wondering how this guy knew who I was.
Reading my expression, he answered, “I’m Mr. Pullman. I’m your landlord.”
“My landlord?”
“Yes. Do you and your friend there need a ride?” he asked, pointing over at Rusck, who held his side and grimaced.
I was hesitant to answer at first. How did I know this guy was telling the truth? What were the chances that he just so happened to be the one driving down the road that ran through the woods? But then I looked over at Rusck and knew we truly did need the ride Mr. Pullman offered. I nodded, and he opened the passenger door. I climbed in and held my hand out to Rusck, who still stood on the side of the road.
“Do you need some help, son?” Mr. Pullman asked.
“No,” Rusck said and climbed in next me. I reached over him and pulled the door shut. The truck smelled like cigarettes and glass cleaner.
“How did you know it was me?” I asked Mr. Pullman.
“When your mom came up to sign the lease, she showed me a photo of you. I did a double take when I saw you walking along the road, but why are you guys out here? Did you get in an accident?”
“You can say that,” I muttered.
“I’m taking you both straight to the hospital. That boy looks like he’s about to die over there.”
I glanced over at Rusck, who had his head rested back on the seat with his eyes closed. Reaching up, I touched the side of his face, peeling some of his hair off his cheek and tucking it behind his ear. He opened his eyes and rolled his head to look at me. As Mr. Pullman pulled back onto the road, he exchanged glances with Rusck. Mr. Pullman made a clicking sound with his tongue, took a finger off the steering wheel, and pointed it at Rusck. “Wait, I know you.”
Rusck closed his eyes again.
“Your brother, he’s the one they found in front of the house Gabby and her mom now live in. Is that how you two met, Gabby? Was he sneaking around again?”
Well, Mr. Pullman was kind of right. I kind of met Rusck at the bowling alley, but I really met him that day he pulled me out of the hole.
“After I
saw you out there the other night, I thought you got the message. I understand you might be trying to find some kind of closure, but that house is now occupied with tenants.”
It took me a second to weigh what Mr. Pullman had just said. And in that second, I suddenly became acutely aware of the proximity of those around me. To my left was Mr. Pullman, whose dad was a suspicious person in the puzzle we were trying to solve. Heck, even Mr. Pullman himself. And to my right was Rusck, one who within a second’s time was in the process of becoming a suspicious person.
“Which night was that?”
“I do believe Monday.”
Wait. That was the first night I heard something.
Mr. Pullman continued. “I was at a house down the block that I rent out because one of their pipes burst, and I saw him squatting down by the basement window, and I knew it was him because not everybody runs around here dressed like they’re in one of those boy bands.”
“So…” I wasn’t too sure what I planned on saying.
“I even talked to him. Walked on over to him, tapped him on the shoulder, and boy, did he look surprised.”
So Rusck actually met Mr. Pullman and didn’t say anything, and he not only rode by my house on his bike like he first claimed, he also snuck around at night. Was that the noise I heard on the first night? Was Rusck the one messing with the toys in the basement? If so, why? And why didn’t he tell me about any of it?
I looked at the road ahead, thinking about all the new information, when Mr. Pullman said, “That boy didn’t just go and die in my truck, did he?”
I quickly turned to look at Rusck, who leaned up against the truck window with his mouth hanging open and eyes closed. For a second, my heart stopped because I feared his injuries might be more serious than he claimed. Then I saw his chest rise. “No, I think he might’ve just kinda passed out,” I said, but I was thinking or he’s purposely ignoring the topic at hand.
The Answers Are In The Forest Page 10
