Before I Go: A dark and tense psychological crime thriller.

by Marie Reyes

As a car came towards them from the horizon, Josie pulled her hand away from his and pressed up against the window. As it got closer, he could see black and white. It was a police car. He concentrated on it as if willing it to stop with the power of his mind, yet convinced it would just drive past. It was slowing. The car’s lights flashed, indicating Julio to stop and Julio complied. He wound down the window and started talking to them. If only Michael could understand what they were saying. He looked over at Josie again. Should they say something? They had to fight, and this was there one and only chance. The gun rested in the right-hand side of his waist-band, invisible to the cop, but within reaching distance for Michael—it’s as if Julio knew Michael didn’t have the balls to take it and left it there, taunting him. Michael had no doubt Josie would have. Maybe that was Michael’s problem. He was incapable of taking control of any situation, especially his own life. Julio reached for the glove-box and pulled out some papers and passed them out the open window. As the police officer glanced over the documents, Julio slipped the gun from his side, and before Michael could speak, could form a thought, Julio raised the gun up and pulled the trigger. The officer dropped to the ground in a second and flecks of blood sprayed against the window. Julio had not hesitated in shooting a cop, they didn’t stand a chance.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “You don’t move.” He opened his door, waving his gun at them, before sliding out. Despite his lack of physical fitness, he had no trouble pulling the body around the front of the car, and dragging it into the bushes. A line of blood followed behind on the gravel like a slug trail.

  While Julio was distracted, Josie leaned down and pulled an empty rum bottle from the floor that was wedged under the driver’s seat in front, and held it down at her side. The door slammed as Julio jumped back into the car and pulled away with a screech. There was no way she could get a good angle to strike him from the back seat with the headrest up so high, so she waited. Every second on the road felt like an hour, and no-one dared speak. The car slowed as Julio started applying the breaks and turned into a side road overtaken with trees. Branches and leaves slapped against the windows as he weaved erratically over bumps in the road. If anyone was going to be executed, this would be the place to do it. Shielded from the main road, under the cover of forest and the impending darkness. Michael wondered what was waiting for them at the end of the road, and then he got his answer. The overgrown foliage gave way to a clearing, a small mossy hut with a rusty brown corrugated iron roof, that looked like it hadn’t seen human interaction for years. They couldn’t go like this, to disappear like Josie’s sister, posing more unanswerable questions. The car came to a stop. The child-locks clicked open.

  “Get out!”

  Michael got out as quickly as he could, stumbling as he stepped onto the uneven ground, and shut the car door behind him, a tinny sound sending reverberations into the forest. He rushed to the front of the car. The damp earth beneath his feet released a musty smell with every step. “Hey. Slowly.” Julio didn’t take his eyes off Michael. In the dwindling light his brown eyes were almost black, like looking down a dark well with no end. Michael heard Josie’s car door close. “What is going on?” Michael shouted, trying to hold Julio’s attention. As Josie came up behind, Julio span around just in time for the bottle to make contact with his forehead. A hollow thud, and a crack. Julio stumbled backwards, dropping his gun, but remained upright. The bottle remained intact in Josie’s hand and as she lurched forward and swung it at Julio again, he grabbed her wrist and wrenched her arm down, sending the bottle rolling across the dried leaf-litter on the ground and under the car. As Michael’s brain finally kicked into gear and he ran at them, grabbing Julio from behind, his arm around his thick neck. Julio tried to throw him off, flailing like a bucking-bronco, and smashed Michael backwards against a tree, knocking the wind out of him.

  Michael could just about make out Josie, scrabbling around amongst the leaves to find the gun. Julio turned around and lunged at him again. Michael dodged to his right and grabbed Julio’s head, ramming it into the trunk of the tree, using Julio’s own momentum against him. The sound of skull slamming against bark. He watched in disbelief as Julio collapsed at the base of the tree. His body had worked independently of his mind, an out-of-body experience. He wasn’t capable of these things. His hands trembled.

  “Is he?”

  “Unconscious? Dead? I don’t know.” He couldn’t bring himself to check. He had to dissociate himself from the heap on the floor.

  Josie didn’t waste any time before crouching down to have a look, but she wasn’t checking for signs of life. She rifled through his pockets. Her cell phone was in his pocket and she took it back, before digging deeper into his pocket, and then checking the other. “Where are they?”

  “What?”

  “The car keys,” she yelled impatiently. “Check in the car.”

  Michael opened the door of the unlocked car, checking the ignition and the front seat. Nothing. “The keys must be on him.”

  “They’re not. I’ve checked every pocket.” She took her attention away from Julio and ran her hands through the debris on the floor.

  “Josie, this is like looking for a needle in a haystack. We’re just going to have to go by foot.”

  “Are you kidding?”

  “Let’s get out of here.” Michael started back up the path they had come from. “Josie, come on!” She finally tore herself away from searching for the car-keys and they sprinted back down the road they had come from. There were no cars on the road, no headlights to illuminate the way. Just shadows and darkness.

  “We better not stick to the main road. If he wakes up.” Michael didn’t want to finish his sentence.

  “I think we’re better off taking our chances in the forest, at least we’ll have cover, plenty of places to hide.” She walked across the road and shone the dim light of her phone into the bushes on the other side.

  “Should we phone the police?”

  “I just need some time to think first. Besides, we’re not going to be safe waiting here for them, not if Julio wakes up. Remember what Álvaro said—about the police being in their pockets.”

  “If that was the case, why did Julio kill that cop?”

  “Fuck it, let’s just keep moving.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  The dense forest left them just enough room to weave between the obstacle course of trees and bushes of ferns that clawed at their legs as they walked. Roots curled in and out of the earth, and they cursed every time they stumbled on one. It was almost pitch-black and Michael’s legs ached from each and every considered step he took. The trees closed in on them, almost impenetrable, suffocating. Michael’s skin crept with claustrophobia, and he regretted straying too far from the road as invisible insects tickled his skin, making his hairs stand on end. They swerved to their right, where the forest was less thick and held out their arms in front of them, feeling their way through the never-ending maze.

  “This will be quite the story to tell when you get home.” Michael tried to air on the side of optimism, for once. He slapped his left arm. That was definitely a bug.

  “After this.” Josie paused as she ducked under a vine. “You’re so going to have to come visit me. You’re stuck with me now, Michael.”

  He recognized that voice. The one full of uncertainty, yet the words told a different story. The voice that says your fine when someone asks, the voice that is anything but fine. It was almost unnoticeable at first—until it wasn’t. Michael could step unimpeded. The trees started becoming more and more spaced out. The thick carpet of plants that lined the forest floor thinned until there was just dirt under his feet. It was only when Josie turned the display of her phone on, that the path revealed itself to them. Michael stopped and sighed with relief.

  “We’re still in the middle of nowhere.” She looked around to decide which direction to head. “Do you think the police could tell where we are from tracking my cell, because I have no idea.” She hel
d her phone up to the sky, checking the signal bar.

  Just as Michael registered a distant rumbling sound, a flash of light blinded him and he held up his arm to shield his face, the beam illuminating them like a spot-light. “Get back.” He dragged Josie towards the trees as a truck came down the road. “What if it’s him?”

  “Different car.” Josie pulled away and waved her arms over her head, making the pickup slow down, before finally coming to a stop in front of them.

  “Lost. Err… Nostotros estamos perdidas.” Josie’s words echoed down the lonely road.

  The man got out of the truck and walked over to them. His face looked tired, like someone after a long day at work, someone who could not be bothered with whatever drama they had to throw his way. The light from the car cast shadows over his face, accentuating the deep lines around his eyes. “Subir al camion.”

  “What did he say?” Michael asked Josie, but she looked as confused as him.

  “Que?” she got closer.

  “My English is not so good.” He said looking bewildered as to what they were doing in the woods, in the dark.

  Michael stood by as they tried to understand each other and spoke to each other in a jumble of Spanish and English.

  “He says we can stay with him and his wife tonight, just down the road. He said we can eat. Sleep. I didn’t want to complicate things by mentioning the police, or what happened. He seems nice. Legit.” She spoke emphatically in her desperation to convince him.

  “I don’t know Josie.”

  “Well, what do you suggest? We’re more in danger out here. Out in the open. At least if we go with him we can rest up. Sort this shit out in the morning. He’s not going to wait forever.”

  “Fine.” Michael felt like he could sleep forever. His heavy legs desperate to give way beneath him.

  “Gracias, muchos gracias.” Michael tried to express his gratitude, but came up short. He opened the heavy door to sit in the front passenger seat and Josie got in the back. The driver introduced himself as Mateo, and he and Josie talked while Michael spaced out and looked out the window. They had barely driven two minutes before Mateo’s small house came into view. A little dog ran towards the truck, barking and bounding playfully. Mateo parked up and opened the driver’s side door. “Abajo. Picco, no. Abajo,” he said to the dog as it jumped up at his legs.

  “Say hola to Picco.” He picked up the dog under one arm. It had the glistening, bulging eyes of a chihuahua, but crossed with some other breed.

  “Hola Picco.” Josie leaned in and petted the dog on the head. “Buen chico.” She had a big, goofy grin. Michael could barely believe she had let her guard down so quickly, as if they hadn’t almost died earlier.

  As they walked through the front door, they could hear the high-pitched wails of a baby crying, and the sounds of a mother desperately trying to soothe it. Picco jumped up and down, yapping. Steam emanated from the kitchen where the sound of a pot bubbling and savory smells filled the air. Rustic and full of life. Michael dodged some building blocks that littered the floor.

  Mateo shouted into the kitchen. “Tenemos invitados.”

  A woman emerged. Her full cheeks bright red from the heat of the kitchen. She rested the child on her hip. “Hola.” She looked bewildered, and Mateo filled her in. “No hablo Ingles Me llamo Gabriela.” She spoke softly, and Michael could already feel his guard go down.

  Josie introduced herself, and Michael nodded along like he knew what she was saying. Gabriela seemed to accept whatever Josie was saying graciously and got her to work setting the table.

  “Can I do anything?” Michael asked.

  “You could watch the baby while she finishes cooking.”

  “Um. I wouldn’t know what to do with it.” He tried to temper the look of terror that was inevitably in his eyes.

  “Okay. You put these out. I’ll look after the baby.” She handed him a pile of plates.

  Michael put the plates on the table and placed one at each seat whilst trying to remember which side of the plate the knife and fork went. People always laughed at him for putting them on the wrong side, even though he was right-handed. It occurred to him that none of this even mattered and couldn’t help but laugh that he was worrying about something so insignificant. Gabriela emerged from the kitchen again, carrying two pots, and smiled at him as she put them in the center of the wooden table. There was something ceremonious about laying out the table. They’d even put out a tablecloth. This is just how Michael had imagined it—family.

  They all sat down to a dinner of squash and beans in a rich brown sauce with warm tortillas. Despite how delicious it tasted and smelled, it was hard to get down. The left-over adrenaline wouldn’t allow him to let his guard down. Eating wasn’t allowed in fight-or-flight mode.

  In-between bites, Josie babbled incoherent baby talk to the child next to her and smiled as the mother attempted to try to get at least some of the food in the baby’s mouth, rather than everywhere else. Michael briefly wondered what lay in store for this child, what kind of suffering and trials waited in his future.

  As he saw Josie smile, he knew she was meant for this world. She interacted with everyone around her, while he sat there, disconnected, a mere observer. He was glad the baby was there. It distracted everyone enough so Michael could keep to himself without having to pretend to fit in. Everyone lavished the baby with attention, revolving around it like it was the sun and they were powerless in its orbit.

  Mateo and Gabriela shared their room with the baby and gave Josie and Michael a fleece blanket. The couch was theirs for the night. They started a small fire, especially for their last-minute guests, and Michael and Josie gazed at the fireplace as embers crackled and popped.

  “See. I told you I had a good feeling about that guy. He said he’ll drive us into town in the morning when he goes into work. Then we go straight to the police, in the light of day.”

  “Sounds good.”

  “You okay? You’ve been quiet all night.” She shook her head as if realizing how ridiculous the words sounded. “About what happened earlier—”

  “Maybe we should just go to sleep. I’m beat.” Michael wasn’t ready to tackle that particular minefield yet.

  “How should we do this then?” Josie held the blanket in her arms.

  “I could take the armchair, you can take the couch?”

  “There’s plenty of room on the couch for two, besides, there’s only one blanket. Scooch.” She gestured for him to make room.

  “Just so you know, I like to be the little spoon.” He joked.

  “Noted.” She laughed, and laid the blanket over him and got underneath, laying on her back, looking up at the ceiling. “Just so you know, I like being little spoon too. I can see this being a problem.” She didn’t say anything else, and turned onto her side, facing the living room with her back to him. He took that as an invitation and put his arm over her, wrapping it around her waist and holding her close to him. She let out a long sigh, as if her troubles were being expelled from her lungs and she held her arm over his and wiggled back a little so they were even closer. He took a deep breath, inhaling the smell of her hair. The scent of floral shampoo and coconut sunscreen reminded him of the resort where they met, before things had all got so complicated. He tilted his head forward towards her neck, wanting to disappear in the warmth before he had to face whatever fresh hell tomorrow would bring.

  Chapter Eighteen

  He went to shout but ended up sucking warm cloth into his mouth. His nostrils flared, but no oxygen was getting in. It was completely black as something covered his whole head and muffled screams came from his left. Even through the thick fabric of his head covering, he recognized Josie’s cries and felt her next to him as someone forced him to his knees and bound his hands behind his back.

  “Shut it, gringo.”

  Michael could just about make out the words, unable to recall the voice. It wasn’t Julio.

  “We’re getting up now. Keep calm. If you don�
�t struggle, I will leave this nice family alone with their brains intact. What do you say?”

  Something cold and hard pressed against his temple; the steel muzzle of the gun dug through the fabric of the hood into the side of his head. A moment ago he had been enveloped in the blissful ignorance of sleep, and he couldn’t force words out of his mouth.

  “What do you say?” The stern voice repeated.

  He nodded and groaned as he was dragged up to his feet. As they pulled him along, he could barely stay upright as his legs refused to cooperate. He only realized they were outside when the night air brushed his arms and as he took another step, there was nothing there, and he fell forward, smacking against the ground, chest first, with no arms to break the fall. The whole front of his body stung with the impact and he tried to suck in air again, in shock, as if he had been plunged into icy cold water. There was no strength left in him, and he let his captor drag him along, hoist him up, and slam him against something solid. Barely able to tell which way was which, Michael realized he was horizontal, his head and feet touching metal. A weight struck him at his side, another warm body writhed next to him. “Josie?” He shouted through his hood.

  “It’s me. I’m here.”

  A slam above them made it darker than it already was, as if that was even possible. He was certain he was in the trunk of a car, cramped, squished up against Josie, barely able to move. The feeling of suffocating made him feel like he in the deepest-darkest-depths of the ocean, with meters of water bearing down on top of him. The pressure was too much. To keep himself sane, he concentrated on the task at hand, and his fingers contorted, trying to get purchase on the rope around his wrists. He hooked one of his fingers in a gap in between the knot and yanked at it, trying to loosen it. Warm vibrations rolled through him as the engine started up and the car began to move. Josie rolled into him as the car jolted forward, and his finger slipped out of the knot he was working to undo. It was almost impossible to concentrate once the car traveled at full speed.