Dark Roads

by Chevy Stevens

  I was leaving the kitchen when I heard the unmistakable sound of steps. Someone was moving—slowly, carefully—down the hall. I shut off my phone and pressed against the fridge.

  Vaughn’s large shape came around the corner. The light flicked on, and our eyes met. He was holding a gun. I stared at the end of it, then up at him. He slowly lowered it to his side.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” His voice was quiet, but hoarse with anger.

  “I was hungry.” I gestured to the fridge.

  “I could have shot you, you idiot.”

  “I’m sorry.” But it could have been Cash. Vaughn wouldn’t shoot without checking, would he? I felt sweaty and panicked. Was this his way of warning me to keep my mouth shut?

  “Well, are you eating or not?”

  I pulled open the fridge, grabbed a couple slices of cheese, then some bread, and smeared butter across the pieces. I took a bite of this hastily made cheese sandwich and mumbled through my full mouth, “Lana makes the best fresh bread. I swear I was dreaming about it.”

  He was silent, but he’d relaxed his hold on the gun. He stepped to the side, making room for me to pass him, and pointed toward the rooms with the gun. “You better get to bed.”

  He didn’t follow me down the hall. Moments later I heard muffled voices, sounded like a late-night news program. I didn’t understand why he hadn’t returned to his room, unless he was making sure that I couldn’t leave again. I slid my mattress closer to Cash. His breath was soft and even, but I couldn’t sleep. Every time I closed my eyes, I’d see my naked self on Vaughn’s computer and think of him out in the living room. Was he panicking? If anyone saw those photos, he’d lose his marriage, his career. Maybe he was erasing everything on his laptop.

  I must have fallen asleep. Hours later I woke abruptly, heart pounding. The house was quiet. He had to walk past this room to get to his own, and I never heard him. I rolled onto my side and noticed something on the floor beside me. I used my phone screen for light.

  It was a plate, with a couple slices of cheese and bread. A glass of milk. He was mocking me. Letting me know he’d seen right through my lame excuse about being hungry.

  It didn’t matter where I slept. He could still get close.

  * * *

  Lana walked Vaughn to his truck at dawn. I crept out and got myself a coffee while she said goodbye in the driveway. They were trying to be quiet, but their voices drifted in through the open kitchen window. Lana said, “Be safe!” and he answered, “Always am!” I wanted to scream. He was probably driving away with the laptop.

  I stayed on the couch all morning, complaining again of cramps when Lana asked if I wanted to come to the beach with her and Cash. “I’m just going to watch movies, maybe take a walk later if I feel better.” I grimaced and clutched a hot water bottle against my stomach. She worried that I wasn’t eating enough. I promised that I’d have some yogurt and fruit.

  Vaughn had taught me something the night before. I left the TV playing to an empty house while I met Jonny a few streets down. I figured I was covered two ways—if any of the neighbors saw me outside, I’d already told Lana I might go for a walk, and if Vaughn was monitoring me through audio from the bedroom camera, he wouldn’t know I’d left.

  Jonny’s truck slowed near the mailboxes where I was hiding, and I jumped into the cab, then lay down on the floorboards. We drove to the truck stop. It was one of the last places in town that still had a phone booth. In case there were security cameras, I wore my hair tucked up into Jonny’s baseball cap, pulled on his work coat, and walked with a boy’s swagger.

  The Cold Creek police force numbered a grand total of eleven cops, and most of them had worked with Vaughn for years. They weren’t going to believe he was a dirty cop, but Thompson was new, and younger. Maybe he’d have an open mind. Maybe he’d at least look into it.

  The police station operator put me straight through to Thompson. I’d expected his voice mail, a recording where I could leave an anonymous message. When he answered, “Thompson here,” I thought about hanging up. Speaking to a real human was a big risk, but Vaughn could get rid of the evidence—or me. I thought of that gun pointing straight at my head.

  I slipped my hand over the receiver and dropped my voice an octave, a husky sort of whisper. “I want to report a bad cop.”

  A long silence. Too long. I’d made a mistake calling him. He was probably signaling for Vaughn to listen in. He could be picking up another line.

  “That right?” More silence. I peeked around the side of the phone booth, checking the parking lot. “What seems to be the problem?”

  Was he actually listening or buying time? The police wouldn’t put a trace on a call like this, would they? I didn’t know how it all worked. Maybe everything got recorded.

  “He’s a creep. He’s been taking pictures of girls with hidden cameras.”

  Another long pause. “How do you know?”

  “I just do, okay? He has cameras in bathrooms. Like in public places.” I didn’t know how much to tell him. If I said the wrong thing, I could reveal my identity.

  “This is a pretty serious allegation.”

  “I know,” I hissed, impatient. “What are you going to do about it?”

  “Well, first I need to take a statement. I could meet you somewhere—”

  “No. No way. I’m not reporting him.”

  “I don’t understand. Why did you call?”

  “So you can find the cameras. Then you can arrest him.”

  “Who is the officer?”

  I glanced over my shoulder and made sure no one was waiting to use the phone. “Vaughn.”

  He went quiet again. The dark echo of empty air. There was no background noise, not even breathing, and I wondered if he had hung up.

  “And he’s placed cameras in public places to take pictures of girls.” His voice was quiet.

  “I know what it sounds like. But, please—I’m telling the truth. He has a laptop, and an expensive camera with a long lens. He watches girls on the beach at the lake. You could catch him.”

  “Let’s start with your name, okay?” A rig was pulling into the truck stop, the engine loud. Thompson might recognize the sound. I hung up the phone, ducked my head, walked around the side of the truck stop, and crossed the road to Jonny. My heart was racing, my head dizzy like the first time I’d tried a cigarette. I’d done it. I’d told someone, but would it matter? I couldn’t tell whether Thompson believed anything I’d said. What if he did check into it and didn’t find any cameras? What if he filed an official report about my call? Something Vaughn could read.

  I had to get out of the house, and this town.

  CHAPTER 8

  Jonny and I sat on the floor in my dad’s workshop with our backs against the wall, our shoulders bumping, and ate Dairy Queen hamburgers. He was shaking the fries around in their package, searching for the extra-salty ones. He glanced at me.

  “Has Vaughn, you know, ever tried to touch you?”

  “It’s just the photos.” I made myself take another bite of my burger, but the bun stuck in my throat, the meat tasted greasy, and I had to swallow hard.

  “You don’t have to run away.” Jonny shifted his body so that he was facing me. He’d picked me up after riding his dirt bike and his brown hair was winging out in different directions. His T-shirt smelled of engine oil and dust. “Come live with us.”

  “He won’t let me.”

  “You could go into a foster home.”

  “You’re not listening, Jonny.”

  “Okay, talk to Thompson again. Tell him that you were the caller.”

  “Then Vaughn will kill me for sure.” Just saying these words, the cold fact of them, made me feel sicker. I dropped my burger onto the waxy paper and wiped my fingers on my shorts.

  “He can’t just get rid of you, Hailey.” His voice was soft.

  “You want to bet? He’d make it look like suicide or an accident. He probably knows a hundred ways to get rid of someone.�
� I brought my knees up, pressed my forehead against the denim. “I’m running away.”

  Jonny was quiet for a couple of beats, his shoulder resting against mine. I could feel his blood pulsing beneath his skin, close as a brother. Sometimes I felt like I had known him even before I was born. Like we had never not been together. And I knew what he was thinking now.

  “You can’t go after him, Jonny.”

  His face flushed with anger, his eyes burning. “I could really fuck him up.”

  “He could really fuck you up. I thought about it, okay? I have a plan. Dad’s dirt bike still has lots of gas. I can drive the back roads to the bus station. I’ll go to Vancouver and live on the street, or in one of the youth hostels. I’ll call Amber, and she can meet me. Her sister is there.”

  “You hate cities—and what will you do for money?”

  I’d thought about that, too. “I’ll pawn Dad’s things. His knives and guns are worth a lot, and some of my mom’s jewelry. Not her wedding band—I won’t pawn that.” I hated the idea of giving up any of their special things, but I’d find a way to buy them back.

  “Then what? What about your future?”

  “I’ll be eighteen in a year. The house will sell, and that money has to be put in a trust for me. Lana and Vaughn can’t spend it unless I’m proven dead or whatever.”

  “When are you going?”

  “Tonight.”

  “Jesus, Hailey. At least let me drive you.”

  “No way. You have to be home or Vaughn will arrest you for helping a minor, or something crazy. Promise me you’ll stay away from him? He’s going to go nuts.”

  He shook his head, looking frustrated. “Fine, but I’m not leaving you on the streets alone. I’ll move to Vancouver too. We’ll figure it out. We’re a team, right?”

  I leaned my head on his shoulder, took a breath. “Right.”

  * * *

  I rolled over, checked my cell phone. Three in the morning. I grabbed my backpack and quietly swung it over my shoulders, watching Cash’s sleeping face, lips parted as he softly snored, his arm flung above his head. I was going to miss him. He’d been my armor all night. We played games, I gave him his bath, got him into his pajamas, and read to him. Lana asked if I needed help and I shooed her away. “Relax, watch TV.” All the while, I felt Vaughn watching me.

  I’d slept in my leggings and a tank top, only needed a hoodie, and I didn’t pack much.

  The plan was for me to get Jonny’s mountain bike where he was going to hide it in the woods and ride to my old house, where I’d take some of Dad’s things and Mom’s jewelry. Jonny bought prepaid phones so we could keep in touch. When I reached Vancouver, I’d call Amber.

  I crept out of the bedroom, using my hand to stop the door from swinging shut, and then I walked straight into a body—hit Vaughn’s chest like a wall and bounced back. He clamped his hand over my mouth and dragged me into the bathroom. It was so dark I couldn’t see to grab anything. I clawed blindly for the counter.

  “We don’t have any stinging nettles, you idiot. You think I don’t check with Cash about what you’re up to? You think I don’t know about your meetings with Jonny?”

  I tried to twist away, but he had a strong grip on my elbow. “Stop,” he growled into my ear, his hand pressed hard against my mouth. I wanted to bite him, make him release me, but I couldn’t open my jaw. I hated the feel of his body against mine. He yanked the pack from my shoulders and dropped it at my feet. “Whatever you think you found in my office doesn’t exist, get it? And if it shows up again, it won’t be on my computer. It will be on Jonny’s.”

  I saw it all too clearly. The photos leaking on the internet and being traced back to Jonny. The police breaking into his house, taking his computer. His cell phone and iPad. Vaughn would collect the evidence. He could do whatever he wanted. The girls in the photos might be underage. Jonny would go to prison. Vaughn could have him hurt on the inside.

  “Do we have an understanding?” I could barely move, but I nodded slightly. “Is this going to be a problem?” He pulled upward, his arm under my chin. I made a grunting sound.

  No, no problem.

  “Don’t yell, don’t move an inch.” He removed his hand from my mouth. Noises behind me. He’d picked up my backpack.

  “What have you got in here?” Zipping sounds as he checked each compartment. Soft thuds and rustles as some of my belongings fell on the bath mat. While he was distracted, I slid my free hand into my hoodie pocket, pulled out the prepaid phone, and quietly pushed it up onto the countertop where he wouldn’t see it. Then I held my breath, praying he didn’t turn on the light or frisk me. He’d feel the knife that I’d strapped to my calf. There was a heavier thump as he dropped the pack.

  “You should be thanking me. You wouldn’t have gotten far with any of this.”

  The click of the door handle, then his quiet footsteps down the hall. He’d left the door open. I picked up my pack and hugged it to my chest.

  * * *

  Three days later, Jonny drove the speed limit away from my old house, then gunned it when we got around the corner. I couldn’t help but glance over my shoulder, even though I knew Lana, Vaughn, and Cash were at the fair. I was supposed to be with them. This morning I’d found Lana in the kitchen putting away the breakfast dishes, while Vaughn wrestled on the floor with Cash.

  “I think you’re right,” I’d told Lana, my voice soft, resigned. Vaughn was listening, and I had to play my part perfectly. “I have to start sorting through my dad’s personal stuff—I can’t keep avoiding it. Maybe that’s why I’m having nightmares. Can you drop me off?”

  “Today? But we’re going to the fair…”

  “You don’t want to do that alone.” Vaughn sat straight while Cash flung himself across his back, tried to get him into a headlock. Vaughn tickled him until he screamed with giggles.

  “That’s sort of the point.” I kept my gaze on Lana, made my eyes water. “It feels like something I need to do alone, and honestly, being around all of you as a family, it’s hard.”

  “Oh, Hailey.” Lana reached out and touched my shoulder. “I understand. You’ve to find your own way through this. We can drop her off, right, Vaughn?” She turned to look at him.

  “Of course.” He smiled, but I felt him studying my face. I kept my mouth downturned, chewed on my lower lip as though struggling to hold back my tears. You just wait, asshole.

  It had been three long nights since Vaughn had threatened me in the bathroom. Three nights when I wondered if he would decide I was too much of a risk. Then it came to me.

  I would still run away, but not to Vancouver. That had been a mistake. Vaughn would have the police looking for me. There’d be flyers. People might recognize me. I had to stay off the grid. Where no one would ever find me. I would live in the miner’s cabin until I was of age.

  Jonny glanced across the truck at me now. “You sure about this?”

  We’d met at my house. He’d gotten my dad’s old backroad maps from the workshop, while I shoved things in boxes and took photos so I could show Lana how productive I was being. I made sure to post a few on my Instagram page. #forsalesoon #estatesale #toolsandgear #makeyouroffer

  Vaughn would think I was stupid—I was practically advertising for thieves. Which was the point. If I was going to rob my own house, the more Vaughn underestimated me, the better.

  “Nothing else will work.”

  “The cabin is like fifty years old. There are bears and cougars, Hailey.”

  “I’ll have guns, and I’d rather face whatever is in those woods than Vaughn.”

  “What about Lana and Cash?”

  That was the hardest part—thinking about how they would react. Lana might freak out, and Cash was so sweet. What would this do to his six-year-old head? But I didn’t have a choice.

  “It’s only until I turn eighteen.” I’d planned every moment. Hour by hour. Still, so much could go wrong. “You should move too. Vaughn is going to be all over you.”

/>   “No way. I’m not leaving you out there alone.”

  “Then get security cameras—and something for your computer. Like a major firewall.”

  “Jesus, this is intense.”

  I stared at him until he looked at me. “You don’t have to help me. I’ll understand.”

  “Shut up.” He reached across the bench seat, bumped his fist into my upper bicep. His way of saying he loved me, but I couldn’t say it back. The words felt like a curse. Everyone I loved died. I turned to stare out the window. We just had to find the cabin and it would be okay.

  The mountain would protect me. Dad had been preparing me since I was little. We were always camping. Rain, shine, or snow. Holiday or middle of the week. Dad didn’t care. He rarely checked my report card, said he trusted me to see it through, and that he could teach me more than I’d ever learn within four walls. We took Jonny with us a lot of those weekends. Dad showed us how to find shelter, water, forage for berries and mushrooms. We navigated with a compass and the stars. We howled with wolves in the distance. Dad called us his pack. His wild cubs.

  Sometimes Dad and I were only home for a few days before he was out in the backyard, staring at the mountain and motioning for me to come stand with him. He’d throw his arm around my shoulder, pull me close so I was tucked under the warm weight.

  You feel it? The mountain’s calling us, baby girl. She wants us to come home.

  CHAPTER 9

  Shards of glass covered the wood floors in Dad’s workshop and crunched under the soles of my shoes. The gun safe lay on its side, the metal lock blackened from a blowtorch. Dad’s quad was gone, same with my dirt bike. The workshop looked so empty without them. I spun in a slow circle. The fishing rods and the crossbow were removed from their holders. All the camping gear, Dad’s outdoor clothing, his winter sleeping bag, knives, and toolboxes were also missing.