Dark Roads

by Chevy Stevens

  “Aren’t you going back to Vancouver?”

  “Do you want me to leave?”

  “I don’t want you caught up in all the lies. This vendetta that Vaughn has against me. He’s pulled my brothers over, and my dad,” Jonny said. “He’s looking for anything.”

  That wasn’t really an answer. She stared at him, and he flushed, dropped his gaze to their clasped hands.

  “Let me get this straight,” she said. “You’re worried that if we started dating, he might give me a speeding ticket?”

  “I don’t know what he’ll do. That’s the point.”

  “You don’t need an excuse to tell me that you aren’t interested in a relationship, Jonny.”

  “That’s bullshit—it’s not about that.”

  “I’m not going to talk you into something you obviously don’t want.” She tried to tug her hand loose, but he wasn’t letting go. “Don’t worry. We had our fun. I get it.”

  “You don’t get it. You’re free. You can leave this town, but I can’t.”

  “What if I don’t want to be free?”

  “You have a big life waiting for you. I don’t want to be the guy you regret later.”

  “I think I already do.” He looked stunned, his body giving a slight jolt, but then he nodded, once, twice, as though reminding himself that was what he’d wanted. Her anger.

  A nurse appeared at the door. “Everything okay?”

  “Yes, he’s leaving.” She gave her hand another tug, and Jonny finally let go. “I’m not feeling well.” She turned her head into the pillow. Jonny murmured his goodbye. She listened to his steps fade out of the room.

  The nurse adjusted her IV. “I didn’t know you and Jonny Miller were together.”

  “We’re not.” She scratched at the bandage on her wrist. She wasn’t going to cry. Not in front of this woman who would tell everyone. “Can you give me more painkillers?”

  “You’re on quite a bit—”

  “Please. It really hurts.”

  “Okay.” Her voice softened, and she patted Beth’s hand. “I’ll see if I can get you something.”

  * * *

  It had been two weeks. The bruises had mostly healed, the stitches had been removed. The flashbacks and nightmares continued to be a problem, which had bumped her Xanax use up to an alarming amount. She’d need a refill soon.

  She chewed another one as she sat in her car, parked down a narrow logging road. Her backpack was filled with supplies, water, and a map. She’d brought orange tape to mark the trail.

  Her cell felt warm in her hand. She’d lied to her mom again. They’d agreed to meet back at the motel in a couple of hours. They thought she was at the doctor’s, and considering her recent vow of honesty, they’d be extremely pissed that she was about to search for Hailey. It was important, though. She was going to help her get away from Vaughn once and for all.

  Beth’s parents had offered her money to get settled again. She’d share it with Hailey. They’d find a place in Vancouver that accepted dogs. They could both start over.

  She headed down the trail. It felt good to get some fresh air and sun. She hadn’t had much activity since getting out of the hospital, but she pushed herself along. Thompson had been there almost every day. She claimed shock to get her out of explaining some of the gaps.

  They’d found Amber’s bracelet at Mason’s house. She’d asked for it, and was told someday, once they were finished their testing. The police were checking his DNA against other cold cases and still digging up his property. Thompson said it could take a while.

  A trail of trees decorated with orange tape behind her, Beth followed the bank of the river until the cliffs eliminated the shoreline. She must be close to the bluffs. She had to go deeper into the forest. Her footsteps were muffled by a blanket of fir needles and moss. A bird gave a piercing cry, and she looked up, recognized a cedar tree where a branch jutted out in a horseshoe shape. She’d seen it before, lying on her back at the bottom of the pit and staring up at the sky.

  She searched the ground for indentations. There, in the shadows of a large tree. It was subtle, the very slightest disturbance on the forest floor. She bent over, brushed the leaves away, and scraped at the dirt until she found the branches woven together under the surface. The pit.

  Now she had to find the cabin. She’d only been walking a few minutes when she entered a small glade, the forest floor covered with ferns and salal bushes. Her boot caught on something. She froze, looked down. Was that … twine? She followed the length of it with her eyes. Some sort of trip wire? She eased her foot away. She wasn’t going an inch farther. She didn’t know what else Hailey had set up. Land mines? Anything was possible with that girl.

  Beth took off her backpack and drank some water, then she whistled a few times, varying the tone and length. No answer except for birds. Time to step things up.

  “Help!” she yelled. “Help! Wolf! Come here, boy!” She kept calling, turning in circles, hands around her mouth to make her voice carry. Something rushed through the bushes. She leaned over and grabbed a stick. A shaggy black body bounded out from behind two trees with excited yelps. He danced around her legs, panting in an openmouthed smile. She dropped the stick.

  “Hey, there, Wolf. Want a cookie?” She offered him a Milk-Bone from her pocket, which he took gently, set on the ground, sniffing it and then crunching it loudly between his white teeth.

  Hailey appeared through the trees, a rifle at her hip. She was frowning, her eyes concerned. She looked Beth up and down. “You hurt? You were calling for help.”

  “I didn’t want to yell your name.”

  “Why are you here?”

  “To make sure you’re okay.” Wolf leaned against Beth’s leg. She scratched his neck.

  “You hiked up the mountain injured?” Hailey was still frowning. “What if you’d fallen again? You could’ve asked Jonny.”

  “I’m better—and Jonny and I aren’t talking.”

  Hailey lowered the gun. “What happened?” Beth wondered why he hadn’t told Hailey about their conversation in the hospital. Did it mean he had regrets?

  “Why don’t you ask him?” When Hailey raised an eyebrow, Beth realized how childish she sounded. She relaxed her shoulders and rubbed Wolf’s head until he groaned. “We just want different things. I’m going back to Vancouver soon. You should come with me.”

  “You’re kidding, right?”

  “No. I can help you.”

  “I’m fine. Jonny brought me another dirt bike for my lower camp.”

  “So now you two are stealing bikes?”

  “It was his old one.” Hailey frowned. “What’s your deal? You came out here to lecture me on my life choices?”

  “I’m offering you a way out. I told Vaughn that Mason admitted to killing you, but I don’t know if he believes me. I heard he’s been at the scene every day looking for evidence.”

  “They’re probably searching for Mason’s cell phone and iPad.”

  “Do you think there’s anything on them? Like pictures?”

  “I don’t know. They’re locked with passwords.”

  “It’s weird that both he and Vaughn were into taking photos of girls.” Beth and Hailey held gazes as they thought about what that meant.

  Hailey opened her mouth to say something but stopped when Wolf let out a low growl. His gaze was focused on the direction Beth had arrived from, ears pointing straight, and his body stiff. His lips were twisted into a snarl, showing white fangs.

  Hailey’s hand tightened on the rifle. “Get behind me.”

  “What is it?”

  “Footsteps. You were followed.”

  Beth didn’t need to be told twice. She hurried over. “Give me a weapon.” The cops had confiscated her gun during the investigation and her bear spray was still in her backpack, sitting out of reach on the ground.

  Hailey reached down her leg, fumbled for something under her jeans. Beside her, Wolf was still growling, the fur around his neck and spine s
tanding up in a long ridge. He looked as though he were about to bolt into the bushes. Hailey gave a short whistle and he froze, one ear flicking in her direction, and then front again.

  Vaughn stepped into view.

  CHAPTER 38

  Hailey

  “So you are alive.” Vaughn’s eyes were almost bulging in rage, his pale skin flushed and sweaty. He was wearing tactical gear and a black baseball cap. “I fucking knew it. You set this all up.”

  “I found your disgusting pictures.” I wanted to sound tough, but I heard the quaver in my voice. The butt of the rifle was wedged into my shoulder, the sight trained on Vaughn’s chest. I hadn’t had time to get my ankle knife loose for Beth. Wolf’s deep growl vibrated through the glade. He let out a sharp bark.

  Vaughn rested his hand on the butt of his gun. “If he makes a move, I’ll shoot him.”

  I heard the quick exhale in Beth’s throat, felt my own tighten. He would do it. No doubt about that. Would he shoot me next? He couldn’t. Beth was a witness. Then I realized that people already thought I was dead, and Beth probably hadn’t told anyone where she was going.

  Vaughn looked at Beth. “Thanks for that tape marking your trail.” So that was how he found us. Beth had marked her route. If we got out of this alive, I was going to smack her.

  “You can’t arrest me,” I said. “I haven’t done anything wrong.”

  “I want Mason’s phone and iPad.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Give me what I came for, and I’ll walk away.”

  I laughed. “You won’t leave me alone. You’ll kill me.”

  “I could kill you now if I wanted.”

  Beth stepped out from behind me. “I told Thompson that you’ve been taking photos of girls. He’s talking to Emily right now, and if anything happens to me, he’ll know it was you.”

  “Emily is a messed-up girl with a drug problem,” Vaughn said, crisply. “And whatever Hailey told you is a lie. She tried to blackmail me, threatened to frame me with photos she took herself, and when I wouldn’t give her money, she ran away.”

  “No one is going to believe that,” I said.

  “No one will believe you. You lied to the entire town for a year. You and Jonny, and now you’re a murderer. I know you killed Mason.”

  “You’re crazy.” I kept the rifle pressed to my shoulder.

  “Mason made mistakes.” Beth’s voice was angry, not scared. She was going to provoke him. “You’ve made mistakes too. People are going to know you’re a dirty cop.”

  Vaughn flipped the snap off his holster and rested his hand on his gun, the muscles in his forearm corded. “No one is going to know anything.”

  “Stop!” My finger was tense on the trigger, aching to pull, but if I missed, or only injured him, he’d shoot us for sure. “She’s lying. We don’t have proof of anything. Just arrest me and let her go. You said it yourself. No one will believe us, right? I’m just a liar and she’s a drunk.”

  Beth shot me a look from the side. “I’m not a drunk.”

  “I saw the empty vodka bottle.” I blinked at her, hoping she realized my jab was an attempt to buy time.

  “It wasn’t just me!”

  “Please.”

  “Shut up, you two,” Vaughn snapped.

  Wolf was barking, a sharp incessant noise. Vaughn was becoming more agitated. I could see it in his face, in his hand tightening on his gun. I couldn’t hold on to Wolf’s bandanna without letting go of the rifle. Then, like I feared, he bolted forward.

  I dropped the rifle and threw myself on top of Wolf, but Vaughn had already let out a shot. The noise was deafening. Echoed in my head. A hot sting on my shoulder. Wolf was fighting to get away from me, snarling at Vaughn. Beth was screaming. I looked up.

  Vaughn was crossing the glade toward me. I needed to make a move. Beth dropped to the ground beside me, her hand pressing on my shoulder. “You’re hurt!”

  I looked at where my shirt was torn, the bloody gash. A flesh wound. Nothing deep.

  “Run. Take Wolf to the cabin—at the base of the bluffs.”

  Vaughn was closer, and Wolf was losing his mind—twisting and snarling. He broke from my hold, rushed at Vaughn, who stopped with his legs braced wide and both hands on the gun.

  “No!” I picked up a rock and threw it at Vaughn, hitting his wrist. His hand jerked, throwing his shot off. Wolf yelped and spun around to look at his back end, confused.

  Vaughn aimed again. No time to dig in the branches for the rifle.

  “Get out of here!” I shouted at Beth as I sprinted toward Vaughn and hit him across his muscled forearm. His shot went wild. I bolted past him. Vaughn spun around and gave chase.

  * * *

  It sounded like a bear was crashing through the woods behind me. Heavy footsteps, branches snapping, but that was good—I could keep track of his location. It would have been easy for me to slip into the darker parts of the forest, go off-trail, take a thousand different routes that would have sent him stumbling and lost, but I wanted him to follow me. I wanted him to travel along the animal trail where I’d stashed a flare gun and set traps. I had more guns at my lower camp.

  After I’d saved Beth and escaped to the mountain, I’d worried that Vaughn would figure it out and come looking for me. I’d been prepping for that possibility for the last two weeks.

  I found a rhythm, shoving bushes out of the way—breaking some, kicking up moss and dirt so that he would easily be able to see my footprints—and managing my pace so I didn’t get too winded. Vaughn was strong. He’d be able to match my endurance. But I knew these woods.

  Beth and Wolf. Their names kept pace with me. I hoped Beth had listened and didn’t try to follow Vaughn. I didn’t know how far she’d be able to carry Wolf, or how badly he was hurt. Did she know any first aid? Thinking about Wolf made me run faster, my breath chuffing.

  No heavy steps behind me, no trees crackling. Had I lost Vaughn? I glanced over my shoulder and tripped over a root. In one motion, I scrambled forward and jumped back onto my feet, but I’d hurt my elbow and knees. Blood dripped down my shin.

  I saw the fir where I’d hidden a few things. I grabbed the lowest branch and hauled myself up. I found the knife and flare gun that I’d stuck into the crook of two branches. I waited. The woods were quiet. I strained my ears. If he’d gone another way, I’d have to track him.

  Footsteps, coming closer. He wasn’t running as fast, his pace steady, but he didn’t sound out of breath, more measured. Like he felt confident that he would find me no matter what, and I was so angry I almost swung down and kicked him in the face right then. I was sprawled as low as I could get on the tree, my body stretched flat along the limb, but it was as though he sensed me. He slowed to a walk, his head turning one way, then the other. He was holding his gun out, firing stance. He knew I was nearby. I waited until he was in the right position.

  The flare gun was in the palm of my hand, slippery with sweat. He was almost under. Now he was moving past—his stride was too long. He’d be out of sight soon. Aiming at his back, I pulled the trigger in one quick motion, gripping the branch with my other hand so that I didn’t fall. The flare struck the ground behind him and exploded. The air shook. Smoke rushed around me. Vaughn dropped to his knees, spun around with his gun out, and fired.

  Bang.

  I clung to the branch.

  Bang, bang.

  Did he have more ammo on him? He was at the wrong angle for me to attack. The throwing knife was in my right hand, but I would probably only hit his shoulder, best-case, and then I’d have given away my position.

  He rose to his feet, gun out, looking around. His body was alert, his arms locked into position. He was staring at each tree, each shadow, scanning back and forth. He’d look up soon.

  No way could I get to my feet. I’d have to hope my aim wouldn’t be off. I gripped the knife, narrowed my eyes, held my breath, then flung it. The blade spun and flashed—he was stepping to the right,
turning around. The blade connected with a soft thud.

  I’d gotten him in the fleshy part of his thigh.

  He looked up, straight at me—gun rising. I leapt to the ground, hit the dirt hard, and rolled back onto my feet. I ran. I pumped my arms, knees lifting high. The jump out of the tree had jarred my bones, sent sharp pains up my legs. I didn’t know how deep my knife had gone into Vaughn’s thigh, but I could hear him thundering behind me. It hadn’t slowed him down.

  A loud crack rang out and a tree branch blew up beside me. The trail crossed over a smooth stone plateau, then narrowed on the other side, and sloped into a long hill. I was running, dirt and pebbles loose under my feet. I lost my balance partway and skidded onto my back. I looked up. He was standing on the stone plateau, aiming down. Another loud crack, and I rolled to the side, throwing myself into the dense underbrush. I got up and kept running.

  A few minutes later, maybe ten, I couldn’t hear him. I felt like I was bleeding from a thousand small wounds. Rocks had scraped at my arms and legs. Sticks stabbed me. Ligaments were torn, tendons vibrating with strain. My lungs begged me to stop. Sweat was dripping down my face and into my eyes.

  The trees bunched close together here, the forest thickening and blocking out the sun, the mountain cupping its hand around me. I was almost there. I slowed to a trot. The small clearing where I’d set up my lower camp was empty. I found the tree that I’d marked, dug up the duffel bag, and pulled out the rifle, slid off the safety. I looked over my shoulder.

  The woods were quiet. I’d wait a little longer, then I’d have to go back and try to find him. Maybe the knife had done more damage than I’d thought. I grabbed a bottle of water out of the bag, crawled on my knees behind a tree, and gulped it, dumping some on my face and hair.

  Footsteps. I shrank against the rough tree bark, braced the rifle on my knee, dialed in the focus to a tight round circle. Vaughn came into view. Blood had soaked through the front of his pants leg, the material wet and glistening. He was breathing hard, looking around.

  I tightened my finger on the trigger. He was turning away. I needed to make this shot count, had to get him in the heart. I thought quickly, but not quick enough. He’d found my duffel bag. His body was blocked now by a stump as he leaned over to rummage through my supplies.