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

by Marie Reyes

  “Turn around.” Josie’s words were choked.

  He didn’t think and complied with her request. Her hand brushed his as she reached for the rope. It hadn’t even occurred to him that they would be able to get a better angle if they worked on each other’s ties. The brain was a mysterious organ when in panic mode. It didn’t take her long to untie him, and he let out an elated cry when he could move his arms, and felt the blood rushing back to his numb hands. He ripped the hood off of his head, banging his arm on the side of the car in his rush, and pulled hers off. “It’s okay. I’ve got this.” He shimmied back around and got to work on her ropes. His fingers could barely feel them, and he fumbled wildly like a teenage boy trying to unclasp his girlfriend’s bra. Why couldn’t he do it? Why was he so useless? He became more frustrated, and then the car came to a stop. Fuck, he muttered under his breath, yanking at the ropes, probably making them even tighter somehow. Something finally gave, and he managed to pull the strings apart. She rolled over to face him and the car started again.

  “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” A tear on her cheek glistened in the darkness.

  “Shh. It’s fine.” He didn’t believe that in the slightest.

  “We’re going to die. You’re going to die because of me,” she sniffed.

  “Hey, don’t talk like that, not yet.” He took her head between his hands. “It’s not over until it’s over.” He wondered where he had pulled that platitude from.

  “It’s over.”

  “I’m sure I read somewhere once. If you get locked in the trunk of a car, you should kick the headlights out, and then you can stick your hand out through the gap and wave for help.”

  For some unknown reason, she snorted with laughter. “Where the hell did you read that?”

  “Damned if I know. Who knew that snippet would come in handy?” It was comforting to know that all the time he had wasted watching TV wasn’t all for nothing.

  “Don’t you think that’s just the kind of thing that would piss him off even more?”

  “I think whoever it is, is already as pissed off they’re gonna get. This is our only chance.”

  “Will it even work?” He heard her lightly kick her foot against the end of the trunk. “Shit. We’re stopping again.” She went still, and they lay there, listening. The lid of the trunk flew open and two figures loomed above, the sky behind them tinged purple with the oncoming sunrise.

  “Well, I can see you managed to free yourselves. Bravo.” The man clapped. Michael had never been unnerved by someone clapping before. The sound of his hands slapping together rang out in the still morning, and it didn’t stop, but Michael wondered what would happen when it did.

  “Samuel!” Julio shouted and chucked the man a shovel he had grabbed from the car.

  The man Julio referred to as Samuel, caught the shovel in midair and held it in both hands as Julio slammed the car door shut.

  “Get out.” Samuel demanded. Josie lifted herself out of the trunk and Samuel pulled her clear of the car, checking her over. “And you.” He rested the shovel at his feet and pointed his gun at Michael. “We don’t have all day. Vamanos.”

  It felt like a dream, like he was paralyzed and no amount of will could force his legs to move.

  “I’m not going to ask again.” He turned the gun on Josie, pulling her towards him as he pressed the gun to her chest.

  “Okay. Okay.” He scrambled up onto his hands and knees and jumped out. It would appear with the right motivation, anything was possible.

  “Bravo. So you’re not completely useless. How does it feel to know your girl has more balls than you?”

  “She’s not—”

  “Did I ask you to speak?” Samuel spat. He had asked Michael a question, so in a sense he had asked him to speak, but he thought it best not to point that out. This man that stood before him was a good few inches taller than Michael. He wore a dark shirt, his mustache and beard were perfectly manicured and his thick hair slicked back. “Grab the shovel.”

  Michael looked down at the shovel on the floor. It would make a good weapon, except Samuel clearly had another purpose for it.

  “Am I speaking English? Pick up the shovel already.”

  The shovel was heavier than he thought it would be and he hauled it up, considering how much force it would take to cave in this guy’s skull with it, or if he was even capable of such a thing. All eyes were on him, including a third man he hadn’t noticed who got out of the driver’s seat. If he even tried it, he had no doubt he would be riddled with bullet holes before he could even get the first hit in.

  “Rapido. Get digging.” Samuel pointed to a spot on the floor. “What are you waiting for?”

  .

  Chapter Nineteen

  The land in front of them was an empty wasteland in the oasis that surrounded it. This was where dreams went to die. Except for the odd bit of garbage, and a shrub here and there, there was nothing. He had imagined dying in his hotel room, air-con on, some relaxing music in the background, all the drinks he could fit inside him, and a comfortable bed to lie on, not this. Digging his own grave in the middle of what looked like an enormous abandoned building site was not what he’d had in mind. He prayed that at least they would shoot him first. Being buried alive was the worst thing he could imagine, that and drowning. A gunshot to the head. It would be messy, but it would be fast. A micro-second of pain, for an eternity of ignorant bliss, sent back to the void from which he came. He couldn’t remember anything before he was born, or anything when he was asleep, besides his dreams, and he assumed it would be like that. He’d come to terms with his own death a long time ago, but the thought of Josie, buried in a shallow grave here, it wasn’t right.

  “Dig, faster.” Samuel half-heartedly waved his gun at them and then stashed it back in the holster, as if he was certain they would do what he said. Julio still held his gun out, keeping his arms raised in front of him. His arms shook, lacking Samuel’s confidence. The third man passed Josie a shovel, and then stood still as a statue, saying nothing.

  “Dig.”

  “Why would I dig my own grave?” Josie yelled defiantly.

  Samuel’s mouth hung open in shock that she dare even ask such a question, then his open mouth turned to a strange grin as he shook his head and tutted. “Ah, sweet girl.” He stepped up to her and bent his knees, bringing his face level with hers. “There are so many things worse than death, and you don’t want to know what they are. Play nice, and maybe you’ll never have to find out.” He brought his face even closer, so they were almost touching. “Now dig.”

  She glared at him as she struck the earth below with the head of her shovel. The look on her face resembled a teenager sulking at having to tidy their room, or something equally mundane.

  “See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” He turned to Michael. “What are you staring at? Get digging.”

  Michael made his first attempt and weakly thrust at the earth with his shovel. It was softer than it had looked, but still hard going. He had to drag this out as long as possible.

  “Ha ha, she can dig better than you too.” Samuel lit a cigarette and watched them with a smirk on his face. “Ah, Julio. What would you do without me? You were never very good at following through.” He paced up and down, taking small, sharp drags of his cigarette and kicking up dirt with his shoe. “Put some backbone into it guys.”

  Michael decided it was time. If they were going to die anyway, they might as well make a bid for freedom. He and Josie had their shovels. Samuel’s gun wasn’t in his hand. If Josie took out Julio and he took out Samuel at the same time, then all that would be left, would be one man. He glanced over him to see if he was armed but couldn’t tell. He wondered why this man was here, anyway. He did nothing, just watched. Josie looked down at what she was doing, and he tried to catch her eye. They needed to be on the same page.

  It was almost fully light now, and the residual orange hue of sunrise was fading fast. Michael scooped another shovel-full of earth and
threw it to the side in a pile. He had seen someone dig their own grave in a film once and found himself wondering how someone could do something so stupid. Now he understood. The body seeks to delay pain as long as possible. And he could only imagine how someone who didn’t want to die would react in the situation he was in. No matter how much he wanted to go, it wasn’t time, not yet.

  “What did you do with my sister? If you’re going to kill me, at least give me that. Please.” She moved towards Samuel, and Michael tensed immediately. Don’t to it, he repeated over and over in his head as he watched Samuel’s relaxed stance turn defensive.

  He took a drag on his cigarette as he locked eyes with her and blew a stream of smoke in her face. “Nah. Keep digging. Once this is done, maybe then I will tell you.”

  She threw the shovel to the ground and fell to her knees. Silent tears streamed down her face and the sobs only came when she put her head in-between her knees. Michael went to comfort her. “I don’t think so.” Samuel stepped across Josie and planted his hand on Michael’s shoulder. “Keep digging.”

  A shot rang out, filling the empty space like the shock-waves of a nuclear blast. Before Michael knew what the hell was going on Julio dropped to the floor, blood gushing from the side of his head.

  Chapter Twenty

  Samuel must have been as surprised as Michael had, as it took him a moment before he reached for his gun. As Samuel aimed at the other man, Michael swung the shovel at his head with a force he didn’t even know he was capable of. Samuel’s shot went off in the wrong direction as he crashed down to the floor and ricocheted off the car.

  Michael stood there as Josie curled in a ball in front of him. The man still had his gun raised, and Michael wondered if he was next, yet still couldn’t bring himself to move.

  “Vamanos.” The man shouted, “Get in the car.”

  Josie took her hands from the side of her head and looked up at the man.

  “The car, now!” Don’t make me regret this.”

  Michael helped Josie up from the floor and they walked shakily towards the car, trying not to look in the direction of Julio’s lifeless corpse. When they were both in the backseat, Michael pressed against the dusty window to see the man stride over to Samuel. He towered over him. Michael half expected him to shoot him in the head, but all he did was nudge him in the side with his foot, checking for signs of life. Samuel’s cell-phone slipped from his pocket onto the ground, and the man smashed it under his shoe before heading back to the car.

  The man got in the driver’s seat, started the engine and turned around, heading back in the direction they had come from. Josie looked out the back window as the car picked up speed. “You’re just going to leave him there. Is he dead?”

  “I’ll never kill a man if I don’t have to. Besides, if I killed Samuel Hernandez, I would be as good as dead, no matter where I went. At least if I leave him alive, they probably won’t bother to come looking.”

  “What about Julio?” She asked, still looking out the back window.

  “No-one gives a shit about Julio. Glorified mule.”

  “Who was that guy? Samuel. I don’t understand,” she stuttered.

  “Samuel Valentino Hernandez is someone you want nothing to do with. You need to go home. You need to be on a plane. Go home before things get nasty.”

  “You mean that wasn’t nasty?” The pounding in Michael’s chest would not subside, and he looked out the back window again, half-expecting Samuel to be following behind them. Indestructible, like the villain of some horror franchise.

  “Let me put it this way. I will be getting my family the fuck out of here before he even has a chance to wake up and get back to the main road.”

  “Family?” Michael asked, somehow surprised that man who just shot someone in cold blood would have people he loved waiting for him at home. Hell, it was more than he had.

  “We’re getting the fuck out. I’m just a driver. I was not meant for this shit.”

  “Where are you going?” Josie asked.

  “I think that’s enough questions, don’t you?” He checked his rear view mirror.

  “I’m not finished.” Josie pushed her luck. “My sister. Do you know if they had her? What did they want with her?”

  “Ismael Garcia.” He spoke the words as if they should mean something.

  “What? Who is Ismael Garcia?” Josie took a slow, measured breath, trying to keep her cool.

  “We used to share a car. We couldn’t even afford a heap of junk car, so we brought one together. I’d do day shift, he’d do night shift. Eventually we had enough to upscale, started our own little company.” His tone was surprisingly matter of fact, given what he was telling her.

  “Ismael?” She mouthed, committing the name to memory. “Did he? Did you?” Her voice caught in her throat.

  “Ismael borrowed money from Samuel. I never would have started the company with him if I knew how he got it. Once you owe them you’re fucked. I just wanted to be a taxi driver. Take tourist around. It wasn’t the best money, but it was an honest living. I’m a simple man. I see where greed gets you.”

  “Who took her? Tell me straight. Tell me now.” She demanded in a hoarse scream.

  “Ismael did it as a favor to Samuel.”

  “What the hell did Samuel want. Money? He got the money. Pretty much everything our parent’s had. Why didn’t he let her go?”

  “Samuel was just the middle-man. Arranged it for his boss. She must have put up a fight, got herself killed.” He met her eyes in the rear-view mirror, a flicker of sympathy hid behind his matter-of-fact voice.

  “Oh god,” she wailed, burying her head into the seat in front, covering her face with her hands. Michael went to reach out, but something stopped him. He gave her space to process what she was told.

  “I’m sorry,” Miguel said weakly.

  “So who’s his boss? They won’t get away with it. I won’t let them.” She was upright again, and in detective mode after wiping tears from her face.

  “I never met the man, but trust me, he’s a guy you do not want to be messing with.”

  “You expect me to believe that?” Her voice elevated to a scream.

  “Believe what you want. It’s the truth,” he said calmly, seemingly unfazed.

  “Okay. What about Julio? What does he have to do with all of this?”

  “Julio’s a nobody. He helps get dope across the border from Belize. Only small amounts, nothing earth shattering. He does a run every once and a while, they leave his hotel alone. That’s the deal.”

  “Samuel’s boss, do you know his name?”

  “His real name, no. Everyone calls him El Verdugo.”

  Michael had been so engrossed, listening to what they were saying, that he only noticed the light hissing noise as the car slowed to a stop.

  “What happened?” Josie’s head turned from side to side fast enough to give anyone whiplash.

  “I don’t know?” The man got out and inspected the front of the car. “Mierda.”

  Not that he knew much about cars, but Michael got out to see what was going on. The man knelt down and ran his finger over a hole in the front of the car. As he got up and opened the front bonnet, steam poured out. “Mierda.” He slammed the bonnet shut and slammed his clenched fist against the metal.

  “What is it?” Michael asked, pretty sure he already knew the answer.

  “El radiador.” He kicked the bottom of the car and zig-zagged in the middle of the road, muttering obscenities.

  “This can’t be happening.” Josie leaned against the car in defeat. “What do we do now?”

  Josie pulled her cell-phone from her pocket and pushed the on button, but it was dead. “Do you have someone you can call? Sorry in all the chaos, I never got your name.” She trailed behind him.

  “I’m Miguel. There is a rest-stop, maybe three miles away, it will be quicker to walk.”

  “You have the same name.”

  “What?” he muttered, glancing back at her
for a second. The ridiculousness of the statement made them wonder if Josie was in shock.

  “Miguel is Spanish for Michael, right?”

  Michael wondered how he could have gone his whole life without knowing that, when he heard a rumble coming. “Is that?”

  Squinting as he stared into the distance, one of Miguel’s hands hovered over his weapon. “Not them,” he said as the car cruised closer. “Samuel has no way of contacting anyone anyway, we should have bought ourselves some time.”

  Josie looked concerned. “Shall we flag them down?” The car was in danger of driving right past them until Miguel made the call, and started waving his arms. Much to Michael’s surprise the dark red Nissan pulled over to the side of the road. Pulsating bass sent vibrations they could feel through the ground until the driver turned the music down. The front car window slid down and Miguel talked to the driver so quickly Michael couldn’t even pick out a single word he was saying. He could just make out the driver as he peered through the crack in the open window. A young curly-haired man, with a nonchalant look, and one of the most garish shirts Michael had ever seen. “No hay problema.” The man smiled.

  Chapter Twenty One

  In the car, Josie’s knees were almost up to her chin as she propped her feet up on a bag lodged in the foot-well, and a guitar propped up in-between her and Michael. Leaning forward, she gave him a serious look. “When we get to town. I will book you the next flight out of here, on me. I had no idea things would get this out of hand.”

  “I’m going back to the hotel where we met. I have things to do.”

  “What could be important enough to risk your life for?” she asked with an annoyed frown on her face.

  “It’s complicated. You’re going home though, right?” If he could just get her on a flight out of there, he could finish his business without worrying about her.