Sharp Absence (Sharp Investigations Book 1)
Page 21
I’m not sure what catches my eye when I am moving around in my seat singing my little heart out but something does. It feels like a cold chill running through my entire body without any warning and without any definable reason.
It’s that shudder that crawls up your spine and ends at the base of your neck until the tingling sensation triggers a full shoulder shiver. My brother used to call it someone walking over your grave.
Looking around, I don’t see anything. My car inches forward as it looks like it’s finally our lane of traffic’s turn to go. I don’t see anything weird at all. There are people out on the road doing construction in the rain, but they are all actively doing something. It’s not like anyone is standing on the side of the road, giving me the creeps.
With a quick glance up, I check my rearview mirror and something just feels wrong. There’s a car two cars back, one that I’m positive was pulling out of my apartment complex at the same time I was. It’s dark outside, so I can’t make out a ton of detail about the car, but one of the headlights is brighter than the other one and I remember thinking it was a weird quirk as I was leaving the parking lot.
As the cars start to move forward and more space is being put between the cars, I can tell this is definitely the car with the weird headlights. I’ve never seen a car with lights like this before, so there’s no way this is just some kind of coincidence.
But why would someone be following me? I mean, there’s no way, right?
I keep trying to convince myself I am being paranoid, but in the back of my mind, I can’t help but wonder if I’m right.
I bring both hands up to the wheel, focusing on driving and abandoning my classic rock dancing. A quick glance to my phone sitting in the cup holder on the center console tells me that there is a turn coming up that I’m supposed to take.
This is going to be the test I need. Will lives out on land, there are few houses out there, not even really a neighborhood, just a smattering of homes around big swaths of land. So the chances that someone would be taking this obscure exit while also coming from my apartment complex is basically next to zero.
Here’s where I find the truth.
My breathing speeds up in my chest. I can feel my chest rise faster and for shorter times as my anxiety starts to reach the pinnacle. I’m trying to resist the urge to tap my foot, not wanting to accidentally hit a pedal not meaning to.
As I get closer to the turnoff, I start debating in my head about whether I should use my turn signal or not. Part of the reason I hate driving so much is that you can’t trust people to follow the rules of the road, and there’s something about flipping the handle up or down to signal a turn that gives me such satisfaction. I don’t think I have ever not signaled for a turn in my life.
I decide not to. My anxiety makes it almost painful as I slow my car just enough to take the turn safely in the rain. As soon as the turn is finished, I hold my breath and wait as my car continues down the road.
One Mississippi.
Two Mississippi.
Three Mississippi.
I think I make it, I think I’m wrong, no one is following me. I’m just being paranoid as I keep my eyes glued to my rearview mirror.
Four Mississippi.
Five Mississ—
Wait. Is that him? I squint just a little, while keeping my eyes glued to the rearview mirror. It doesn’t take long for me to realize that the car behind me is, in fact, the car with the weird headlights.
Panic starts to completely take over my body. I can feel my heart beating in my chest hard against my sternum.
I think to myself, What do I do? I’ve never been followed before. I’ve never been in any kind of dangerous situation unless you count Chanel starting drama in person on campus, which, let’s face it, is not actually dangerous, just annoying.
Will’s face flashes in my mind, he would know what to do. I’m already accelerating down the dark road in an effort to avoid this guy. I lean forward to grab my phone out of the cup holder and feel the restraint of the seat belt push against my chest. I look up just in time to see that the road is curving. The phone slips out of my hand and down to the floor beneath me as I grab the steering wheel to have more control as my car goes into the curve in what is turning out to be a decent rainstorm.
I know I’m not supposed to brake in these situations, it makes it worse. I think. Don’t you hydroplane or something? I really should have paid more attention in physics class. Either way, I resist the urge to slam on the brakes and as I’m going through the curve, I feel the back end of my car start to fishtail. My heart feels like it’s up in my throat, but thankfully I don’t spin or anything crazy as my car keeps eating up the pavement between me and Will’s house.
I have no idea how far away I am.
“Fuck.” I don’t have my phone. I have no idea how far I am from Will’s house or even how to get there. I can’t pull over to get the phone, that would just be asking for trouble and leave me as a wide-open target. What if it’s the guy who took Clara?
I briefly let my mind imagine what would happen if it is him. Would he kill me or would he take me to where he is holding Clara? At least then I would know if she is alive.
“No! Focus!” I tell myself.
I put my foot down on the gas and start looking for a turnoff or somewhere I can hide so that I have the time to look for my phone. But nothing jumps out at me. The lighting on this road is shit, with my headlights being the only light source working against the increasing rain.
In a Hail Mary effort, I lean forward in my seat and once more feel my seat belt start to pull me backward. My chest just starts to make contact with the steering wheel as I take one hand off the wheel and start trying to feel around underneath me for my phone.
Just as I feel my fingertips brush against it, I feel my car lose grip on the road. It probably only takes milliseconds for me to lose control and my car veers off the road, but in those seconds, everything feels like it is slowing down.
I can see the individual raindrops as they are making contact with the windshield, the trees as they are illuminated by light coming from my headlights, and lastly the high grass surrounding a small ditch running the length of the road that I hadn’t noticed until just this second.
And once more, that feeling of dread invades my body. As soon as the car hits the ditch, it starts to roll, and I know I’m fucked.
If this car crash doesn’t kill me, there is a good chance whoever is following me will.
At least this time he won’t be able to cover his tracks.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
“CAR CRASH” BY OUR LADY PEACE
My body comes to consciousness abruptly at the crack of thunder. It takes a few moments for me to open my eyes because everything just feels wrong. Confusion floods my thoughts and an unexplainable feeling of panic. But the real motivator to get moving and open my eyes is the fear that is pumping through my blood. In fact, in this moment, fear is the only thing I’m a hundred-percent sure of.
My eyes take longer than they should to open. It feels like when you sleep way too long and they are caked closed. Only the sensation is different, almost sticky.
Even in the dark, I can tell my vision is blurry. A flash of light illuminates the area in front of me but it takes a while for me to realize it is lightning, gone as quick as it comes, leaving behind only the confirmation that my vision is a hot mess.
Before I even feel the pain, I feel pressure. My head feels like it’s heavy, but oddly, it’s mostly a full sensation at the top of my head with a fullness that makes me think my face might be swollen. But the strangest pressure is coming from my chest. It feels like someone is sitting on my chest, but oddly, there isn’t any pain or discomfort from the pressure on my back.
Bringing my hands up to my face to see if it is in fact swollen allows my body weight to shift, bringing a sharp jerk of whatever is across my chest, startling me.
“What the hell?” I murmur to myself while bringing my hands dow
n to my chest and find a strap across my chest holding me in place.
I’m upside down. How the fuck am I upside down? Well, that explains all the pressure I’m feeling, my face probably looks like a tomato with all the blood rushing to my head. With that figured out, I go back to trying to figure out what’s wrong with my eyes, and sticky is exactly the right word. My face is wet, all over wet. But not all of it feels like water, no, some of it feels thick and sticky.
My pinkie finger brushes up against something embedded in my face, and the pain is startling. It kind of feels like when you step on a pebble and it gets stuck on the bottom of your foot, except different, sharp. It takes a few seconds to get a purchase on whatever it is and pull it out of my face, which only unleashes more sticky liquid down, or rather up, my face. Blood. It’s blood.
Another flash of lightning lets me see my rosary pooled at what is apparently the roof of my car, to be exact. I’m upside down in my car.
How the fuck did this happen?
There’s a hole where the memory should be. The only things left behind are panic and fear. Trying to rationalize that it makes sense I would be afraid if I was about to be in a car accident doesn’t really work. Something tells me it’s more than that. The more I think about it, the more I think I shouldn’t be in this car.
My vision is finally starting to clear up or maybe my eyes are just getting the opportunity to adjust to the pitch black, so I decide it’s time to go.
Fumbling around trying to find the release to the seat belt takes more time than I would expect, I guess being upside down really messes with the way your brain perceives your physical location. As soon as I hit the release, though, nothing happens. The mechanism doesn’t pop out and my weight is still resting on the seat belt, keeping me attached to the seat.
“Think, think,” I whisper.
The door. I should try the door next. As soon as my arm starts to cross over my body, I feel this sharp and sudden overwhelming pain. It feels like someone is wrenching my arm out of the socket. The pain is so intense and sudden that I start to get dizzy and feel like I’m going to pass out. Clutching my arm against my chest, I try to hold on to consciousness while realizing how much trouble I’m really in.
A few seconds pass before I realize I have a knife in my glove box that I could use to get out of the seat belt.
There’s no way I can reach the glove compartment with my left hand, so with the only option being my injured right arm, I take a deep breath and push through the pain. Tears start welling up in my eyes and a cold sweat breaks out along my skin as I finally feel my fingers wrap around the cold steel of the knife.
I take another deep breath, knowing what comes next is bound to hurt just as much.
It’s not like the movies where I could just swipe through the seat belt and suddenly be free. No, it’s a lot harder than that. I’ve been hanging upside down for who knows how long, I’m clearly injured, and my body is quickly getting weaker and weaker the longer I’m in this cold and wet car. What must have been minutes pass by as I struggle to saw my knife through the tightly woven fabric of my seat belt.
The last swipe of the knife has me propelling down to the roof of my car with no way to catch myself. The shock of hitting the roof echoes through my body and leaves a wake of pain in its path.
I should be feeling better about this. I’m making progress. But honestly, I only feel worse.
My body hurts worse than when I woke up and I feel way more panicked now that I am free than I did when I was pinned down. It doesn’t seem logical.
I let myself just lie on the roof for a few minutes before I realize that my body is starting to shake and my teeth are starting to chatter against each other. The urge to take a nap is starting to take hold and the fear I had been battling up until this point starts to take a back seat.
Get up. You have to get up. I lift my head up to look around. I know I just heard a voice, but I can’t see anything. And the only thing I can hear right now is music coming out of my radio. I think I imagined it. Either way, it feels like good advice.
Rolling over takes time, as I try to protect all the areas of my body that are aching. The palms of my hands keep landing on top of little pieces of glass I assume are from the windshield, I think a few have actually embedded themselves into the skin. When my hand finally hits the cold wet grass, it’s startling.
I no longer want to sleep and the fear is starting to take hold again. I’m still on my hands and knees as I make it out of the car and look around.
Now that I’m out, I can tell I obviously crashed, and the lighting is better so I can get a better idea of what’s going on and where I am. Even with more light, I’m struggling to figure out which direction to go, I see headlights coming toward me and that’s when everything in my body shifts.
A cold sweat breaks out against my skin and my heart starts pumping harder and I can feel my pulse in my ears. I probably have a head injury and my body is definitely battered and bruised, but I know I can’t head toward the road and those lights.
There is no doubt in my mind, not even a little, that I need to move in the opposite direction.
I start dragging my body toward the tree line, at first feeling the wetness of the grass saturate through my jeans even more before I’m able to get into an upright position. I give thanks that I didn’t wear flimsy shoes, my leather boots did a good job protecting my feet in the crash, and I get the feeling I’m going to need that protection as I start hobbling into the trees.
I risk a quick look back when I see the lights stop moving next to my upside-down car.
The only thing I know for sure is that whoever this person is, they are in a car similar to mine and that in no way should I call out to them for help.
I start moving faster into the woods, trying to be as quiet as I can, hoping beyond all hope that whoever was in that car didn’t see me limping into the woods.
But I don’t have that kind of luck. I hear the door slam shut, bringing about a second wind I didn’t know I had in me.
The woods are densely packed, which I’m grateful for because I’m having trouble keeping myself both upright and moving forward. I keep tripping over roots or things on the ground, mostly because my legs feel like they are made of cement and it’s hard to lift them high enough to get clearance. I keep my left arm as outstretched as possible to keep finding trees to hold me upright while I keep my right arm tucked into my side, trying to protect the shoulder from being jostled any more than it has to be.
I quickly pause to catch my breath, letting me hear someone starting to enter the woods behind me.
Fight, flight, or freeze. I’ve heard about it a million times. My body wants to freeze, to simply stay still to avoid the pain. My brain, though, is screaming, RUN.
Knowing there is no fight in me, I start moving forward as quickly as I can. Even knowing I am being chased, I can’t help but to chance a look back. I can’t even tell where the tree line begins, let alone make out the shape of a body.
I finally start building up a hobbling rhythm as I stumble through the woods. I know I’m making too much noise. I know I am probably the easiest person in the world to track right now. The grunts alone are leaving a sound trail to follow as I stumble around.
Fuck, I don’t even know which direction I should be running, just that I should be running.
And that’s when I hear it. A voice. It’s close to me and moving closer. My head is pounding and I can’t make out what the voice is saying, but I know I don’t have a chance. Whoever it is is getting closer and there is no way I can possibly get moving fast enough to outrun them.
So, I do the only thing I have left in my arsenal. Drop.
The impact of my knees hitting the ground is rough, but I don’t take the time to absorb it, instead I start moving behind a tree and feeling around on the ground for a stick. My hand finally makes purchase on the wet, uneven bark of a branch. Even though I’m right-handed, I know there is no way I am going to be swin
ging a branch with my right hand so I take hold of it in my left. The glass still embedded in my palm stings as I grip the branch and wait to make what is probably going to be my last stand.
I start holding my breath, hoping they will just pass me by.
The voice is getting closer.
And clearer.
It’s my name.
Whoever it is is saying my name.
“Kenzie!”
There’s no fear this time though. No fear at all. Relief.
I can see my breath as I let out the breath I had been holding.
I try to call out, but it takes a few seconds and takes clearing my throat a few times before I’m finally able to call out.
“Out here.” It’s not what I would call loud, but the rain is starting to die down, so there is a good chance they heard me.
“Thank God,” I hear the voice exclaim and I hear the sounds of underbrush crunching down as whoever it is makes it to me.
As soon as I see his face, it’s like everything hits me like a semitruck. Will. Clara. The killer. Someone was following me. I crashed my car trying to get away. Oh my god, did someone really just try to follow me into the woods? Denial hits me like a strong slap in the face as I tell myself it was just Will in the woods looking for me. He probably got worried when I didn’t show up and went searching for me, found my car, and then set out to find me, Or at least that’s what I try and rationalize.
My breathing starts to slow as I start talking myself into this scenario. Until I finally realize, Will came from the opposite direction. I definitely wasn’t the only person in these woods, but there is no way Will could be both in front of me and behind me at the same time.
Will crouches down in front of me as I start to hyperventilate. His eyes are scanning my body and I can tell he’s all business as he catalogs what are probably a substantial amount of injuries. He leans forward to take my arms in his hands, I feel the involuntary flinch as I anticipate the pain in my right shoulder. He hesitates.