You Can Run: A heart gripping, fast paced thriller (7th Street Crew Book 2)

by Willow Rose

  Marcia looks out the window as Minutemen Causeway drifts by. She spots Billy walking next to City Hall towards the beach, guitar in one hand and a brown bag in the other. It is warmer today, so he’ll be hanging out on the beach in front of Coconuts instead of in the dunes. She wonders who else will join him today. Marcia likes to hang out with them. Most of all, she likes who she is when she is with them, when the world is all fuzzy and warm and she doesn’t have to worry about the screams or images in her mind.

  “It went okay,” she says.

  “Good. So I’ll take you again tomorrow, then?” Mary asks.

  Marcia freezes. The thought of having to stay sober for even longer kills her. Can she do this?

  You have to. Or you’ll lose the kids.

  The kids. Marcia feels awful that the kids have been suffering under this. She thought they were doing fine. Every time she saw them, they seemed fine.

  You knew they weren’t. You just chose to ignore it, you coward.

  “I think I’d like that,” she says, looking down at her shoes. There’s a hole in the right one and one toe is sticking out. Her clothes are dirty and smell weird.

  How did it come to this? How did I become this bum?

  “Great,” Mary says, and drives up in front of her townhouse.

  Marcia stares at the front door. Does she really dare to walk in there sober? To face all the misery, her guilt, her own disaster?

  Mary places a hand on her arm. “Listen. I can’t say I know how hard it is to be you right now, because, let’s be frank, I have no idea what you’re going through. But I can tell you that I will be here. No matter what. You call me in the middle of the night. Anything. I’ll take care of the kids for a few days if you need to get away. Anything, as long as you don’t start drinking again.”

  You don’t deserve her as a friend. You don’t deserve to be loved like that. You’re not worth it.

  “Shut up,” Marcia says.

  “What?” Mary says.

  Marcia hides her face in her hands. “I’m sorry,” she says. “I am so sorry. I’m such an awful person. I don’t deserve you.”

  “Hey!” Mary says. “Don’t you say that about my friend. Besides I think I am the one who will decide whether or not you deserve me. Now, come here.”

  Mary grabs her around the shoulders and pulls her close. She holds her in a warm embrace for a long time, while Marcia tries to pull herself together. In her head, the voices are all screaming at the same time. When she closes her eyes, she sees these awful images of people in pain, in excruciating pain, people pleading for their lives. Where do those images come from? She doesn’t dare to think about it. She is terrified of learning the truth.

  “What do I say to them, Mary? How do I face them?” she asks, and looks at the house.

  “You just do it, I guess,” Mary says after a little while. “They’ll be happy to see you sober. Maybe do something fun with them today. Play a game. Talk with them. Especially Rose. She needs you.”

  Marcia nods. She is not so certain that anyone needs her.

  “So, same time tomorrow?” Mary asks.

  Marcia nods and opens the door. While Mary drives away, Marcia walks up towards the front door. She grabs the handle, but hesitates before finally opening the door.

  They’ll never forgive you. No one will ever love you. Not when they learn who you really are.

  Two young faces look up as she enters the room. Their eyes are wide, scrutinizing, wondering who it is that they’re greeting through the door. Will it be drunk Mommy? Will it be yelling Mommy? Will it be sweet and funny Mommy or angry mean Mommy?

  A third set, belonging to her daughter Rose doesn’t even dare to meet her eyes as she closes the door behind her.

  Marcia forces a smile. It feels terrifying to stand like this in front of them. It’s like being naked; she feels like they can see straight through her, see her for who she really is.

  You can’t do it. You can’t. You’re not strong enough. Not without drinking. You won’t make it. You’re too weak.

  “Anyone up for a game of charades?”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  January 2016

  My stomach is in knots when driving home from Marcia’s. I can’t bear seeing her like this. I feel guilty for not having reacted sooner. Those poor kids.

  “How’d it go?” Joey asks from the couch when I enter the house. The dogs attack me and Snowflake licks me incessantly.

  “All right, I guess,” I say and sit next to him.

  “Where’s Salter?”

  “A buddy from his school stopped by and asked him to go to the skate park with him.”

  I smile. “That’s great. He’s making friends,” I say and lean back. I feel exhausted. Mostly emotionally.

  “So, you think she’ll get better now?” Joey asks.

  I shrug. “I think we have taken the first small step, but there is still a long way for her. It’s tough. Makes me appreciate what I have more, though.”

  Joey sits up straight, then leans over me and kisses me. I close my eyes and enjoy his kisses. Soon, his hand is inside my shirt. He is touching my breasts.

  “Are we in a hurry?” I ask.

  “You do realize we’re childless, right?” he says. “It’s been awhile.”

  I chuckle and look into his eyes. “I know. There has just been so much. With my brother and all that. It’s getting to me.”

  Joey keeps kissing my neck and chest, and now he pulls off my shirt. He is not listening anymore, and soon I am not talking either. We make love on the couch and I feel so close to him, closer than I have in a long time. I am so blessed. So happy I made the decision to take him back. Especially for Salter’s sake.

  “By the way, Chloe has been trying to reach you. She came over earlier and said she needed to talk to you. Apparently, you don’t answer your phone,” he says, panting, when we’re done.

  “I had it on silent when I went with Marcia to the meeting,” I say, and kiss his nose. I get dressed and find my phone.

  Fourteen calls from Chloe. I call her back.

  “What’s up?” I ask.

  “What’s up? What’s up?” she says on the other end. “Are you kidding me? Don’t you know by now?”

  “I am sorry. No, I really don’t…”

  “You’re exploding; that’s what’s going on.”

  “Exploding?”

  “Your numbers are. The little video you made went viral. It’s a worldwide trending topic on Twitter!”

  “What? Why?”

  “I don’t know why. Who knows why anything goes viral these days. But my guess is that people want to help find that brother of yours, so they share the video. It got picked up by one of the really big names on twitter, RCThomas and he wrote that we should all help her find this bastard, so please share.

  “RCThomas? I have no idea who that is.”

  “I figured you didn’t. But he’s this famous YouTuber and tweeter. He’s like Bono. Just on the Internet. People listen to him. If he says people should share this video, then they do it.”

  “Bono?”

  “Okay, bad example, Lady Gaga then, argh you know what I am saying, right? The important part is everyone is tweeting your brother’s picture now, and soon the entire world will know he is wanted. It’s the best thing that could ever happen to us. We’ve already received a bunch of emails from people claiming they have seen him and Olivia. I am telling you. We’re going to get him. He can run but…”

  “We’ll track him down no matter where he runs to,” I say. “I’ll be right over.”

  Chapter Thirty

  January 2016

  Mark is sitting on the pavement next to his skateboard. He is waiting for his friend, David, who is eating dinner with his parents. They asked him if he wanted some and he really did, but he didn’t want them to think he didn’t get fed at home, so he said no and told David he would go home and eat as well, and then they’d meet back in front of his house. Not knowing what else to do,
Mark stayed outside the house, his stomach growling with deep groans.

  He doesn’t want to go home. He doesn’t like to be at the house in case his mother is there. The older he gets, the more Mark tries to stay out as much as he can. Sleeping over at friend’s houses or even sometimes staying on the beach all night if it’s warm enough. Anything to not have to go home.

  He stares at a fire-ant crawling on his shoe when he hears the door to his friend’s house open and David comes storming out.

  “Let’s go to the park,” he yells, his mouth half full. “I have to be home at ten. Parents! They’re so annoying.”

  “I know!” Mark says, but he doesn’t mean it. The truth is, he would give anything to have someone give him a curfew. He would love to have someone want him home for once. But no one does. No one worries about him staying out all night.

  They stay at the skate park for three hours, until David has to go home.

  “Yeah, me too,” Mark says. “Don’t want to get in trouble with the old lady, right?”

  He follows David home and then skates to the river and sits by the bank till midnight and he figures his mother is in bed.

  Finally, he decides to head back. He enters the house as silently as possible and closes the door behind him. He takes two steps before he realizes someone is in the living room. His mother is sitting in the recliner, a is gun pointed at him. The streetlamp from outside lights parts of her face and the gun.

  “Mom?”

  “Shhh. They’re listening, aren’t they?”

  “Mom. It’s me. It’s Mark.”

  Still, she is not lowering the gun.

  “I am not giving in to them,” she says.

  “To who? What are you talking about, Mom?”

  “You know damn well who!” she yells.

  It startles Mark and he whimpers. “Mom? Please?”

  “The government thinks they can get to me, but they won’t. You can go back and tell them that.”

  “Go back? What?” he says, his heart throbbing.

  “I know you’re one of them. They got to you, didn’t they? They had you place cameras everywhere, right? Don’t you think I know they’re watching me? Tonight they even spoke to me through the television. The guy on the news told me they would come for me tonight when I am asleep. But I am not going to sleep. Oh, no. I am not falling for that. And you better tell them that. I know you’re with them.”

  “But, Mom. It’s me. It’s Mark,” he repeats again and again with a shivering voice.

  “It’s not you. I know how these things work,” she says. The gun remains steady between her hands. Mark has no idea what to do.

  If I run, will she shoot? Will she shoot me if I stay?

  Mark is crying now. “Mom. Please, you got to know it’s me. I am your son. There is no one after you. No one is out to get you. Please, just lower the gun …”

  He doesn’t get to finish the sentence before the gun goes off.

  Part Two

  Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star

  Chapter Thirty-One

  February 2006

  “What have you done?”

  Daniel’s mother looks at him, her eyes icily cold. On the couch by the fireplace sits his older sister and one of his brothers.

  “I sent him to the conference with professor Martin.” His voice is shaking as he speaks, but he stays determined. He knew this would happen, he knew their mother would confront him about this, and he had the entire speech prepared. Only now, his tongue betrays him and the words don’t come out the way he wants them to. He no longer feels so certain of his arguments.

  “How? How could you have done this when I told you I wouldn’t have it?” his mother says.

  “It’s the right thing to do,” he says. “Think of all the other people out there living like him, trapped in their bodies like him. They need him, Mother.”

  “And what about what Peter needs, huh? Did you think about that? He doesn’t need a flock of nosy professors and scientists observing him like he is some…some monkey in a laboratory. Peter needs stability. He needs surroundings that he knows, he needs to follow his schedule. I am supposed to be protecting him.”

  “I am his guardian too, Mother. You made all of us guardians, remember? We have a say in his future as well.”

  “No!” his mother yells.

  It startles Daniel. Their mother has been weak for years and spoken only with an almost whispering voice. Her yelling feels overpowering, and Daniel becomes a little boy again. At least that’s how it feels to him. He looks at his shoes. All his siblings are present in the room, but they aren’t saying anything. They avoid even looking at him.

  Cowards, Daniel thinks to himself. We agreed to do this together. We took a vote and now they won’t stand by it.

  “As long as I am still alive, I make the decisions of what is best for my son. Not you. Not any of you,” she says and points at the others.

  She walks to her chair and sits down. Daniel can tell she is in pain. He knows her leg has been bothering her. Her heart is not very strong, the doctor says. He suddenly feels overwhelmed by guilt and sadness from making her this upset.

  “I just don’t understand why you would do this to him, to your brother?” she asks as she regains her strength.

  “Because it is good for him, Mother. Don’t you see it?” Daniel says.

  “No. I really don’t. The boy is sick, Daniel. He needs his family. He needs his mother.”

  Daniel sighs. “But, Mother. That’s the thing. He’s not. He’s not a child anymore. He’s a grown man. And he knows stuff. He is smart and he wants to share that with the world. He wants a life, Mother, and that’s what we’re trying to give him. If you keep treating him like a child, he’ll never be anything else. He has skills. He can communicate. Besides, he wanted this. He wanted desperately to go, am I right?” Daniel asks, addressed to his siblings. They’re annoyingly quiet. Finally, his sister nods.

  “It’s true, Mother. He really wanted to go. He told us.”

  “He told you? He told you?” their mother says. “How?”

  “He wrote it on the keyboard,” Daniel says.

  Their mother shakes her head heavily. “The boy has never been able to speak, and all of a sudden, this professor, this woman, comes along and holds his elbow and suddenly you believe he speaks? That he knows politics and math? It’s ridiculous. Can’t you see it?”

  Finally, their oldest brother rises to his feet. “We took a vote, Mother. We believe in giving Kristin Martin a chance. It’s the only shot he’ll ever get at a normal life. We made a decision, and now it’s done. Peter is in California, and he’ll be back in three days. You just have to trust us.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  January 2016

  I work with Chloe until around midnight, going through all the emails and tweets arriving from people who believe they have seen my brother and or Olivia. Most of them are bogus and easily thrown away, but some, a good handful, sound plausible, and slowly we narrow them down to four possible places they may have been seen.

  Chloe puts up a big map on the wall and pins down the four places.

  “Tucson, Arizona; Savannah, Georgia; Charlotte, North Carolina; or St. Petersburg, Florida,” she says.

  “Sure would make the most sense if he’s still in Florida,” I say.

  “I’m not so sure,” Chloe says.

  “He was last seen in Ft. Lauderdale?”

  “Right, but he’s not dumb. Neither is Olivia. They know people are looking for them all over the state. It would make more sense to get as far away as possible.”

  “So, you think he’s in Arizona?” I ask.

  She shrugs. “It’s a guess. Maybe they’re planning on going across the border. Maybe they already have.”

  “Mexico?”

  “Yeah, I know,” she says. “Sounds like a bad movie, but still. They can hide there easily.”

  “They have to live too,” I say. “How do they still have money? It’s been three mon
ths, and neither of them has used a credit card.”

  “I don’t know,” Chloe says. “But there are ways.”

  I look at the clock on the wall. “It’s getting late. I should be getting back home.”

  “I want to take a closer look at the tip that came from Arizona. I think I’ll continue all night and sleep tomorrow,” Chloe says. “This is the time I usually think the best. No distractions, you know?”

  I smile. I do know. Chloe has always been like that. I wonder how she still manages to live a life like this. Taking care of her mother and staying awake all night. I, for one, get completely out of balance if I lose just a few hours of sleep.

  “Salter has school in the morning, so I have to get up at six thirty to get him on the bus. I need some shut-eye. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  I ride my bike back to Joey’s house. I park it outside and walk in. Joey is sleeping on the couch, a half empty beer on the table. I check on Salter in his bed. He is sound asleep. The dogs and the pig are in there with him, all sleeping in his bed. He looks so happy, so safe, it makes me feel good. I walk back to Joey, and as I do he receives a text on his phone. It’s from that Jack guy again. I decide it’s none of my business and go to the kitchen and grab myself a donut that they have left out. It’s a little dry, but I’m starving, so I eat it anyway. Joey is grunting in his sleep and sounds exactly like Bonnie. It makes me laugh. As I finish eating, there is suddenly a knock on the door.

  It startles me, while Joey doesn’t react. I walk to the window to look outside. I spot a girl, a young woman in a light dress, a small jacket over her shoulders. She has long blonde curls that bounce off her shoulders when she moves. She is stunning.

  Thinking she probably came to the wrong house, I open the door. Her smile freezes as she sees me.

  “Hello?” I ask.

  “Hi. Is Joey home?”

  As the realization sinks in, my heart goes cold. I have a lump in my throat. “He’s sleeping. Who are you?”

  “I’m Jackie.”