Black Wood

by Derek Flynn

  “Samantha ...” The cold feeling grew.

  “I didn’t know if I could get it out of her, but then, she went and offered. I couldn’t believe my luck. It was my way out with Scarjaw.”

  “So, you were never going to leave?”

  “How could I? Scarjaw would kill my grandfather.”

  “And she figured it out.”

  “What?”

  “Obviously that’s what it is. She figured out you weren’t going to leave, so she took the money before you could get it.”

  “I thought Mr. Pierce was full of shit. But he wasn’t. It was her.” He started to pace back and forth manically. “She never had any intention of leaving with me. She was always going to take the money. She was the one that suggested we say in the note to make sure he had the money on hand for when we called. She knew he’d have it in his study. She must have just waltzed in there today while the whole town was out looking for me and while you were waiting for the meet tonight. Fuck, I am so fucked.” He looked up at me. “And not just me. You’re in this now too. What the hell are we going to do?”

  “There’s only one thing we can do. We have to find her, stop her. We have to get that money back.”

  “How? She’s got a head start on us. She could be anywhere.”

  “Well, we have to try. She has to sleep. We don’t. We keep driving and we stop at every motel and diner until we find her.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  The situations I was finding myself in were becoming increasingly bizarre. Now, here I was on the back of a Harley, driven by Charlie, heading down the Interstate, looking for Samantha. There weren’t that many motels out that way, which is why I was confident we could catch up with Samantha. We sped down the Interstate, the great hog beneath us, rumbling and roaring. It was like Easy Rider. Part of me didn’t want to find Samantha; part of me wanted Charlie to keep on driving all the way across America. We could go together in search of the dark heart of the American dream.

  As we pulled into our third motel, Charlie pointed out Samantha’s mother’s car. He looked back at me.

  “She’s here,” he said.

  My heart was pounding and my palms were sweaty. What was going to happen now? Charlie parked the bike around back and we both got off.

  “How are we going to play this?” I said.

  “Play this? This isn’t a movie.”

  “Sorry.”

  “Look, we can’t fuck this up. We have to get that money. We can’t go back to Concord without it. She’s not going to want to part with it.”

  “Then she’ll have to come back too.”

  “What?”

  “We can’t just leave her here with no money. Where would she go?”

  “I don’t care. She was leaving me up shit creek. It’s not my problem.”

  “What happened with you two? How did you change so much?”

  “We didn’t change. This is who we were the whole time. You don’t know us. Now, let’s do this.”

  His voice was different, his face, expressions, everything. He was right – I’d been wrong about them all along. I hadn’t known them. This is what they were capable of doing to each other. I followed him into the office.

  “Excuse me,” he said in his most congenial voice. “We’re looking for a friend of ours that’s staying here. Name is Samantha Pierce.”

  The clerk looked at us blankly. “We don’t give out customer information here.”

  “I understand, but she’s a friend of ours. It’s a surprise. She doesn’t know we’re coming.”

  “Well, maybe next time you oughta call first.”

  Charlie took his hand out of his back pocket and slid it across the counter. There was a twenty-dollar bill in it. The clerk smirked and palmed it. He looked in the book.

  “Room 708.”

  As we walked out of the office, a thought struck me.

  “Charlie, do you think Samantha took her father’s gun?”

  “I don’t know ... probably.”

  “But, it’s okay, right? Because you’re armed.”

  He looked at me. “That relic? It belongs to my grandfather. He’s had it since the war. I’ve no idea if it even works. But I couldn’t walk into Scarjaw’s place with my hands swinging. Now, come on.”

  We moved quietly up the stairs and along the landing, hugging the wall so she wouldn’t see us though the window. When we got to the room, Charlie gestured to the door.

  “You knock,” he whispered. “She’ll know my voice.”

  “She’ll know my voice.”

  “Disguise it.”

  “I’m not good with voices.”

  Charlie shook his head. He knocked at the door. “Miss?” he said, in a deep, gruff voice. “This is the manager. Could I speak to you for a moment?”

  No answer.

  Suddenly, Charlie heard a noise from inside. “Fuck,” he shouted and kicked in the door. Well, I say ‘kicked in the door’ ... he actually kicked the door. And nothing happened. I’d always wondered if that worked, like you see in the movies, when they kick the door and it flies open. It didn’t. It took about four or five kicks. On the third or fourth, the wood around the lock splintered and finally came away on the fifth. Charlie pushed the door in and I peered in the behind him. There, halfway out the window, was Samantha, a rucksack in her hand.

  “Samantha!” Charlie shouted. She didn’t look back, didn’t stop, just kept on climbing. She was almost out when Charlie got to the window and grabbed her heel. He pulled her back in and threw her on the bed. She let out a wounded scream.

  “Ow, you’re hurting me.”

  “I will hurt you if you don’t stop fighting me. Stop struggling.”

  “You fuck,” she screamed. I couldn’t believe these were the same two people who had been lying in each other’s arms in the Black Wood a week before. What the fuck had happened?

  “Is that my money?” Charlie said, pointing at the rucksack.

  “It’s not your money.”

  “Oh, our money?”

  “It’s not our money either. You saw to that. It was going to be our money.”

  “You think I wanted to stay in Concord. You think I didn’t want to run away with you. Unfortunately, unlike you, I’ve got other responsibilities I’ve got to take care of.”

  She looked at me. “What are you doing here?”

  “It’s a long story,” I said.

  “That’s right,” Charlie said, “and one that involves Scarjaw and guns.”

  “What does this have to do with Scarjaw?” Samantha said.

  “Everything. Me ...” He pointed at me. “... him, my grandfather, we’re all fucked if Scarjaw doesn’t get that twenty grand back tonight.”

  “It’s not Scarjaw’s twenty grand, it’s my father’s. Why would you give it to Scarjaw?”

  “Because I owe it to him as payment for your boyfriend’s debts.”

  “Dale?”

  “None of this would be happening if it wasn’t for your degenerate ex-boyfriend. He got me into this, the stupid fucker. He ripped off Scarjaw to pay his gambling debts and then he split. So, Scarjaw told me it was my responsibility now. And he’s been after the money ever since. You don’t know what Scarjaw is capable of, Samantha. I couldn’t let him hurt my grandfather. I had to find some way out. When you offered me the money that was all I could think about.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Because I was afraid you wouldn’t go through with it. I know it’s horrible. But he’s my family ... I couldn’t let anything happen to him. I had to find a way.”

  “But you didn’t tell me you were going to take our twenty grand to do it.”

  “Would you have agreed?” She didn’t answer. “Besides, it doesn’t really matter now. It was never going to be you and me. You saw to that. You were going to take the money for yourself.”

  “Not in the beginning.” Her expression had changed. The defiance had left her face, and her look was softer now. “I meant wha
t I said. I was going to get that money for us. To go away. But the more you talked about your grandfather, the more I realised you were never going to leave him.”

  “I wanted to ...” His expression had changed now too. They looked like those two people I had known back in the Black Wood, not the ugly people I’d seen over the past twenty-four hours. “I wanted to ...” It sounded like he wanted to say something more, but the words – whatever they were – wouldn’t come out. Maybe Charlie was wrong. Those ugly people weren’t who they’d been all along. Maybe I’d been right about them.

  “Take half,” Samantha said. “Ten grand. Please. Give that to Scarjaw. Tell him it’s all you could get.”

  “I can’t. Scarjaw doesn’t make deals. I need it all.”

  Her expression turned to anger. “Why is he my fucking problem?” she shouted. She was almost in tears.

  “Why is he mine?” Charlie snapped back. “He was your boyfriend’s problem. Maybe if you’d kept your legs shut and your eyes open a bit more, you might have noticed him blow twenty grand.”

  She slapped him in the face.

  “Fuck you, Charlie.”

  “I’ve had enough of this,” he said. “Give me the money. I’m going back to Concord.”

  “Don’t please. I need that money.”

  He grabbed the rucksack from her, reached inside and took out a brown paper bag. He looked in and then closed it up again and threw the rucksack back at her.

  “What am I going to do?” she shouted at him.

  He stared at her. “You can rot in hell for all I care.” He brushed past me. “You coming?”

  I looked at Samantha. “I can come back with you if you want,” I said.

  “Fuck you.”

  “What will you do?”

  “I said fuck you,” she said her voice breaking. It sounded like she was crying.

  “I’m sorry,” I said and followed Charlie out the door.

  I told Charlie to drop me down the block from my house. If my parents saw the Harley, they’d ask questions. I got off the bike and handed him back the helmet.

  “Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you to meet Scarjaw later?” I said.

  “We’re done now. He gets his money and that’s the last you’ll see of me.”

  “What will you do?”

  “That’s not your problem. You go do whatever the hell it is you do.”

  I felt like there was something I should say. It felt like a momentous moment. I was about to speak when he kick-started the bike and roared down the street.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  I had no intention of leaving Charlie meet Scarjaw alone. Not that I feared for his safety, but because there was no way I was going to miss out on the last chapter of the story. I had to know how it ended.

  So, that night at 10PM, I was back in the Black Wood one more time. When I got there, it was dark. I didn’t have a lot of time to think about where they might be meeting, so I headed straight for the first place I could think of – the clearing where we told Mr. Pierce to leave the money. My instincts were right again. I heard Scarjaw’s voice as I approached the clearing. I tried to creep up on them as quietly as I could. But it didn’t matter. As soon as I had them in my sights, I felt something behind me. Someone grabbed me by the collar and dragged me into the clearing. Scarjaw was standing in the centre of the clearing with another man, both of them armed. The guns were pointed at Charlie.

  And Samantha.

  “You were right,” the guy dragging me said to Scarjaw.

  “Of course,” Scarjaw replied. “I knew our friendly neighbour would be around somewhere.”

  “What are you doing here?” Charlie hissed at me.

  “What are you doing here?” I said to Samantha. She didn’t answer.

  “Like you don’t know,” Scarjaw said to me. “You crazy kids thought you could pull a fast one on old Scarjaw. What were you gonna do, hope I turned up alone and try to jump me?”

  “It’s not like that,” Charlie said. “I came to give you back your money.”

  Scarjaw lifted up the duffle bag. “And now I have it.”

  “So, you can let us go,” Charlie said. “We’re done.”

  “Oh, you’re done all right. Kid, I wasn’t about to let you go before you tried to double cross me. Now, move.”

  Scarjaw and his two henchmen marched us further into the Black Wood. There was no point in running; they’d have taken us down before we got five feet. No one said anything but we all knew it. We realised, it had come to this. As we walked, our feet made little sound. No one would hear us. That’s something they call dramatic irony, I believe: that the very feature of the Black Wood that allowed me to creep around unheard, spying on Sam and Charlie, would now be the reason why no one would come to our aid as we were murdered in the Black Wood.

  If three people are shot in the Black Wood and no one’s around to hear it, will we make a sound?

  I couldn’t believe it had come to this. All the things we’d been doing had led up to this point. I never would have imagined the outcome. It started as a game really. I never thought for one minute it would take a serious turn. I just wanted to write about their lives. Now, here we were being marched into the Black Wood to be summarily executed. What the hell had happened? How had things taken this turn? We were kids. I wanted to turn around to Scarjaw and say that. “We’re just kids.” Of course, we weren’t. We were young adults; young adults who had tried to swindle him out of twenty grand. My pleas were never going to wash. So, I said nothing. All the time, as I wondered how we’d gotten to this point, all I could think of was the question that Sam asked Charlie that night: “How far would you go?” He never answered. I wanted to ask him now. “How far would you go, Charlie?”

  How far would I go?

  We were going deep into the Black Wood. Scarjaw wasn’t taking any chances. The deeper you went, the darker your intent. No intent was darker than Scarjaw’s at that moment. We could barely see where we were going. They turned on a flashlight; a single beam of light fell on the forest floor in front of us. We all followed it in single file. Finally, Scarjaw said, “Stop. Turn around.” We did as we were told.

  Scarjaw walked up to us. He put his face in close to mine and Charlie’s.

  “Did you really fucking think you would get away with stealing my money?” He said it slowly, like he was savouring the words. Neither of us answered. The sweat was rolling down my forehead. I glanced over at Charlie, but you couldn’t tell a thing from his face. His expression was blank. Scarjaw stared him straight in the eyes, but Charlie didn’t waver. I thought to myself, If you’re so fucking brave, why don’t you hit him? Hit him like you hit Dale. Why don’t you get us out of here? Here’s your one chance to be the hero, to be the hard man we all thought you were. But you’re gonna let us die.

  Scarjaw looked back at me, as if he knew what I was thinking. “You pissed your pants yet, little boy?” Obviously, he wasn’t getting a rise out of Charlie and he knew I was an easier target.

  Funnily enough, Scarjaw might have come across as a clever guy, but he wasn’t that clever. He chose to address the two males and ignore the female – the deadlier of the species. He chose to address me – the guy who wasn’t going to do anything – and turn his back on Sam, who was. I didn’t make that mistake. I was watching Sam out of the corner of my eye the whole time. She was jumpy, more anxious than I’d ever seen her. I knew with her that was a dangerous thing. And when she did it, it happened in a flash. Her hand reached into her bag. It was then that Scarjaw realised that something was going on. He turned to face her, but it was too late. She was standing there with a cocked .38 in his face.

  “Sam, what the fuck?” Charlie said.

  “Shut up, Charlie. Time to see how far we’d go.”

  “What is wrong with you two fucking idiots?” Scarjaw shouted at his henchmen. “Why weren’t you watching her?” He spoke as if he didn’t realise that Sam was standing there with a gun to his head. Finally
, he turned around to face her. “You silly fuckin’ girl. You think I’ve never had a gun pointed at me before?”

  “Have you ever had one pointed by someone who was actually gonna use it?”

  “More times than you’d imagine. And you little girly have no intention of using it. You couldn’t even if you wanted to.”

  “Give me the money,” Sam said.

  “Fuck you.”

  Sam tightened her grip on the handle. Her finger was wavering over the trigger. He seemed to notice. His face changed for a second and then went back to normal again. He took a step towards her.

  “Don’t,” she said. “Stay there.”

  He took another step. “You’re not gonna pull that trigger, bitch.”

  “Get the fuck away from me. I mean it. Just give me the money.”

  “Fuck you,” he said, and he lunged towards Sam. She didn’t think about it for a second. Or maybe she did. Maybe she’d thought about it for a long time before that moment.

  How far would you go?

  She pulled the trigger before he’d made it two feet. He went down like a stone, blood streaming from his head. Scarjaw’s henchmen grabbed the money and ran. They weren’t going to be stupid enough to question her resolve. When they’d gone, Sam finally lowered the gun. But she didn’t move; she didn’t look at us. She just stood there, staring at the spot where the two henchmen had been. Charlie and I looked at each other. I guess no one thought to check was Scarjaw still alive. Finally, I did.

  I knelt down beside him. His head was a mess. He looked like Two-Face from Batman. All there was on the left side was the point where the bullet entered. But the right side was a mess of brain, bone and blood. I heard Charlie’s voice.

  “What did you do? Sam, what the fuck did you do?” He kept repeating it over and over. Finally, Sam looked down at me and the body. I watched the gun slip from her hand. The realisation – the shock – started to set in. I couldn’t see her face very well, but I imagined I saw the blood running from it, as she saw what she’d done. But she didn’t say anything; she just stood there staring. Charlie stopped asking her what she’d done and started asking me what we were going to do.