Shallow Creek

by Alistair McIntyre

  “Good. Now get down and back up a ways, like ten yards or so.”

  Brendan ground his teeth, but obeyed the command. He lowered himself off the truck and retreated to the desired distance. His brother’s hand appeared, swatting around the precariously balanced gun. Unable to gain a purchase on it, Grant inadvertently swiped the pistol off the door and down the front of the hood, away from Brendan.

  After much shuffling from inside the cab, and many different iterations of the word bitch, Spee’s head appeared through the window. Her face jerked up to the sky and she shrieked horrifically as Grant used her hair as a handhold to work his way out of the cab from behind her. Once he cleared the opening, Grant wrenched Spee up by the hair. She struggled to right herself, hindered greatly by her bound hands.

  As she brought a knee up onto the door of the overturned pickup, she slipped and fell free from Grant’s grip, spilling onto the dirt. Brendan raced forward, but Grant dived off the truck and dragged Spee to her unsteady feet.

  “Back up!” Grant’s knife graced Spee’s neck once more.

  Brendan gave up a few paces, but now he was close enough to clearly see the panic on his brother’s face. The fading light revealed a frantic picture while distant sirens danced through the trees.

  “Throw your phone down,” Grant commanded, favoring one leg.

  Brendan pulled his cell from his pocket and did so, watching Grant adjust his grip to pull Spee’s face up and close to his own. The knife needled at her exposed neck.

  “You don’t have to do this, man. It’s not too late.”

  “Shut up. You think I wanted this? You think this was in the damn plan?”

  Brendan said nothing.

  “This is all Taryn’s fault.” Grant’s voice cracked, but his knife stayed steady. “I did this for her.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Yes, I’m fucking serious! Didn’t you see her? Her messed-up teeth? The face of a fifty-year-old? That was the price for helping our sister.”

  “How the hell did you help her, you psycho?”

  Grant grimaced at the insult and pulled tighter on Spee’s face. “You should’ve seen what she was into before, man. Screwing guys all over, begging for food, stripping. I saved her from all of that. I did that!”

  “Yeah, she’s a picture of health now.” Brendan shuffled forward an inch.

  Grant’s eyes took on a glassy sheen. “She almost died after she took some of that shit the Mexicans cooked up. I don’t know what they cut it with, but I didn’t care. I tried to help her then. I tried to get her clean, but she was using again in a week. So you know what I did? I learned how to make the stuff right, how to get the mix so that nothing’s left over after the reactions. But I sucked at it, so I brought in Serge.”

  “The big bald bastard living with Taryn?”

  “Yeah, he’s her personal cook and guardian.” Grant spoke faster now. “She’s never ODed, she’s never been back to hospital. Serge takes care of her and makes sure she’s as good as an addict can be.”

  “So you need multiple kitchens, or labs, or whatever you call them, just to service our sister’s habit? No way.”

  Grant laughed at this. Brendan could hear the sirens drawing closer.

  “You have no idea how much money’s involved here, man. After I forced those Latin fucks out, cornering the market was easier than taking a piss. So yeah, we expanded our supply to increase our reach. I hired more guys and—”

  Brendan’s phone beeped in the dirt. He was as shocked as Grant by the interruption. The damn thing had been dead on the ride over to the cabin.

  “That a text?” Grant asked. When Brendan nodded, Grant smiled crookedly and told him to read it. At this point, Brendan welcomed any distraction.

  “It’s from Marcus,” Brendan announced after picking up the phone, which he’d taken a few steps forward to retrieve. His face dropped. “Oh, shit.”

  Grant’s smile faltered. “What is it?”

  Brendan looked up slowly and met his brother’s gaze with a somber expression. “Taryn’s dead.”

  “You’re a liar.”

  “Marcus says the trailer blew up.”

  “You’re lying,” Grant insisted.

  “You just told me Serge cooks this shit for Taryn.”

  “But not in the trailer,” Grant exclaimed. “I always told him, ‘Never in the trailer!’”

  The knife fell from Spee’s neck. She instantly swung her combined fists toward Grant’s crotch, but he avoided a direct hit. Brendan started to move as the police tore into view, racing down the road. Grant’s knife tilted and swooped down on Spee as she stumbled, off-balance from her failed assault.

  Brendan grabbed his brother’s wrist as the blade sunk up to the hilt in Spee’s throat. Blood poured out from under Grant’s hand, streaming down Spee’s neck. Cars screeched to a halt. Doors opened and voices shouted. Spee slid off the blade and sank to the dirt, her blood splashing in the dying grass.

  More voices shouted. The brothers stood frozen, eyes locked.

  Grant moved his free hand, trying to get both hands on his knife. Brendan kicked out his knee and drove Grant’s wrist up, ramming the knife into his neck hard enough to crack his skull against the truck’s driveshaft. Grant’s jaw dropped open and his eyes rolled up into his head. Without hesitation, Brendan threw his brother aside. Grant collapsed, unconscious and bleeding out rapidly.

  Kill confirmed, Brendan dropped to his knees and carefully inspected Spee, who still blinked slowly. Her face held the expression of disbelief that he’d seen many times on those without much time left in the world of the living.

  “Michelle—”

  “Hush, Casey.” He gently guided the matted hair off her face as she tried to whisper to him, the blood gurgling in her throat. “Don’t you worry about Michelle. She’s going to pull through, and so are you.”

  “No—” she moaned as her eyes went wide.

  Strong arms locked onto Brendan and hefted him backwards, clearing the path for the paramedics. Special Agent Casey Spee of the Drug Enforcement Administration blinked no more.

  Chapter 51

  “Hey, you.”

  Michelle looked up groggily and managed a weak smile. “Hey, Tenny.”

  Brendan shifted forward in his chair and gently took her pale hand. With all the blood loss, she was almost as white as the hospital bed sheets. Her head was tilted up a little by the bed, and also supported by a large pillow.

  “How you feeling?”

  She blinked slowly, keeping her eyes closed for a few seconds before opening them again. “Like I got shot in the ass.”

  “Luckily your ass is still in one piece.”

  “The doctor said I was lucky to be alive, ass or no ass.”

  Brendan nodded solemnly. “I’m no expert, but I was worried you wouldn’t make it. I’ve seen guys die from less.” He stroked her hand. “You’re one tough lady.”

  “You know it.”

  Michelle needed rest, and Brendan knew that, but so many questions remained unanswered for him. “When I told you the DEA agents had been kidnapped, you knew it was Spee. How did you know that?”

  “Hmm?”

  “You knew Spee was out at the cabin with Grant. Were you an informant for her, too?”

  She focused on his face, looking much more alert suddenly. “You can’t tell anyone,” she said under her breath. “Grant’s guys are still out there.”

  “Sure, sure. No problem. You should probably sleep now.”

  “What happened to Spee?” Michelle pulled her hand out of his, placing it on her stomach. “The other agent only told me that Grant had been killed. He wouldn’t even tell me how, not until the investigation is closed.”

  Brendan had sat up for most of two nights reliving the moment when his brother killed Casey. Thirty-six hours after the incident, he still couldn’t believe he’d been so close to saving her, yet pitifully too late. All the training, all the missions, none of it had prepared him for that
instant in time when he’d failed miserably.

  “Grant killed Agent Spee.”

  Michelle didn’t visibly react. “Oh.”

  The pair absorbed the silence. A nurse poked her head in to take Michelle’s vitals and to ask her a couple of simple questions. Before leaving, she requested that Brendan alert someone if Michelle fell asleep and woke back up again, or if she needed to use the bathroom.

  When the nurse left, Michelle spoke up. “You probably think I’m a horrible person.”

  “No—”

  “It wasn’t until Sadie was born that I realized how bad I was.” Her voice drifted far, far away. “And then my cousin Dale died.”

  “Dale?”

  “Scott’s brother,” she mumbled. “Supposed to be a simple OD, but I didn’t believe that. Grant was too crazy when he got angry, and people got hurt.” She gave him a knowing glance. “Dale probably screwed up a deal and Grant killed him.”

  “Did you tell anyone else about this?”

  Michelle ignored him. “I don’t even know if those Mexicans trying to rape me and Kim was real. Grant was real messed up in the head. He could’ve set that all up to make me fall in love with him.”

  “I don’t know about all that, Michelle.”

  The tears started, and neither person made a move to wipe them away. “Spee’s dead because I didn’t call and tell where Grant had her,” she moaned. Brendan recalled that he hadn’t been able to call it in either. “But I only had her cell number, so I was helpless. I’m useless.”

  Brendan crouched next to the bed and pulled the oily hair off her face. She’d grown a few more wrinkles since they were kids, but she still looked about the same. One time she’d fallen off a horse and broken her arm, eliciting the same tears she cried now. Brendan had consoled her then, and here he was doing so again.

  “That’s not your fault.” Her sobs slowed down as she paid him some attention. “You got out there as fast as you could and tried to help them. What else could you have done?”

  She nodded and sniffed wetly. A tissue box sat on a small table, so Brendan passed her a tissue to blow her nose. That done, she settled down and sighed deeply.

  “Mom told me you were hanging out with Kim.”

  “I was.”

  “Do you like her?”

  “Yes.”

  “Take her away from here.” She turned her head toward his. “Promise me.”

  Brendan mulled over his response before opening his mouth. “I’d like to give that a shot, but she’s pretty damn pissed about us having sex.”

  “I’ll clean that up,” she said. “Just promise me you’ll take her away. She deserves more than living in Mom’s garage, and this place is dangerous now. Just because Grant’s gone, that doesn’t mean the senseless violence will just stop.”

  When she tried to shift in the bed, she gasped and immediately gave up, quickly reaching for her IV button to click some morphine into her bloodstream. Brendan gently rested his hand on her shoulder as he stood up, not really knowing what kind of physical affection was needed by a gunshot victim. Out in the sandbox, dragging the wounded through a hail of gunfire was about all the touching necessary.

  “Hey, Michelle—”

  Brendan turned to find Kim stepping into the room. She paused at the sight of him.

  “I didn’t know you’d be here.” She looked back to her sister. “I’ll just come back later. Maybe.”

  She spun on her heels and made to leave.

  “Stop, Kim,” Brendan said. “I’m the one who should be going.”

  She regarded him coolly before very deliberately stepping farther into the room to let him out.

  “This is going to sound weird, but I was drugged, and I really don’t remember it,” he said quickly, trying to squeeze all the words out before his brain kicked in to shut off the ill-advised verbal torrent.

  “It?” she said. “Is that what you old people call sex now?”

  Brendan took a deep breath and excused himself, hoping that Michelle could keep her promise to clean this all up. If she did, he knew he’d keep the promise he hadn’t actually agreed to yet.

  Chapter 52

  The phone stared him down, but Brendan didn’t feel like turning it on.

  He pocketed the small device and rested his chin on his hands. The door to Michelle’s room was closed now, and presumably the sisters were engaging in one of the most difficult conversations of their lives. A bit of an unfortunate way to rekindle their relationship.

  And speaking of trying relationships, Brendan hadn’t even told his parents yet that he’d killed their eldest son. That would be a fun one, he was sure.

  The guard at the door nodded to Brendan. “Rough night, guy?”

  Brendan leaned back in his chair, which faced Michelle’s door. “Yeah, you could say that.”

  “Heard you killed your own brother.”

  “That’s the rumor.” Brendan put his head back against the wall.

  A nurse pushed a bed past them, prompting Brendan to slide his heels back under his seat. Once the hallway was clear, the cop spoke to him again. “Also heard you tried to save that hot DEA chick.”

  “Tried.”

  “Shitty.”

  Brendan sighed and looked up and down the hall, searching for any kind of distraction. On cue, the latch on the door to Michelle’s room clicked and Kim appeared, tears brimming in the soft hospital lights. Brendan had barely stood up before she strode and grabbed him in a tight hug. He returned the gesture uneasily, not entirely sure what was going on.

  “Is Michelle okay?”

  “Yeah, she’s fine.” Kim sniffed against his shoulder. “Thanks to you.”

  “It was nothing.” He moved his lips close to her ear. “Are things going to be okay between you two?”

  Kim didn’t answer immediately, but then said, “It’ll take time, but I think it’ll be okay. Eventually.”

  “Are things going to be okay between us?”

  “Michelle told me the details of your—” She searched for the right word, shooting a sideways glance to the guard. “Encounter.”

  “Not my proudest moment,” Brendan said as Kim broke their embrace.

  “It’s totally gross and weird that Michelle did that to you, but she said Grant forced her into it to blackmail you, or something like that?”

  “Something like that.”

  “It’s not like I expect you to be a virgin or anything.” Kim ran a hand through her hair. “I mean, we’re not in high school anymore.”

  “No, we’re not,” Brendan mumbled, arguing internally over the merits in sharing the exact details as he knew them. No smart couple ever shared every little secret, right? Was it worth trying to explain that Grant had wanted Michelle to totally fake it, in order to guilt Brendan into leaving Shallow Creek? With Grant dead, he was a good enough scapegoat, at least for now.

  Another thought popped into his head. He asked Kim to stay out in the hall for a second while he went in to see her sister really quick. Once by her side, he gently roused her from a shallow sleep.

  “Hey, when you ran out of the diner crying and those assholes jumped us, did you and Grant set that whole thing up, too?”

  She immediately burst into tears again. “I’m so sorry.” She grabbed onto the bottom of his shirt. “Grant promised you’d leave if you got beat up. He told me he wouldn’t have to kill you then.”

  “Nothing like brotherly love, huh?” a voice said from behind.

  Brendan turned to find Special Agent in Charge Norman lurking in the entryway to Michelle’s room. Michelle’s grip on the front of Brendan’s shirt slackened, and then she finally withdrew completely.

  Norman scowled, as usual. “We need to talk. Now.”

  Chapter 53

  Brendan and Norman stood in the doorway to Michelle’s room. Kim slid past both of them and took a seat on the far side of her sister’s bed. Brendan kept an eye on the pair as they chatted quietly.

  “What are you doing here?
” he asked the agent.

  “I was visiting Tyson again,” Norman said. “Docs are still trying to work out how to fix his face after the beating your brother gave him.”

  The tone riding through Norman’s words reeked of blame towards Brendan, but he ignored it. His brother had battered one agent and killed another, and Brendan made an easy target. He tried to divert the conversation.

  “I’m sorry about Spee.”

  “Nothing you could’ve done.” Norman’s tone indicated otherwise.

  So much for diverting the conversation. Brendan took a different tack. “How did you find us out on the road anyway?”

  “Because we bugged their phone,” Norman said plainly. “If you’d given a better description of the location, we could’ve arrived earlier.”

  And saved Agent Spee. Those words didn’t need to be said for Brendan to hear them. At least he now had a clearer idea of why Norman blamed him so much for what had happened.

  The agent cleared his throat. “Also, I’m willing to forget that you assaulted a sheriff’s deputy and escaped from police custody, because you did us all a favor by killing Jasper.”

  Brendan’s ears perked up. “What did you just say?”

  “That I’m glad you had the balls to take down your own brother,” Norman explained, spelling it out slowly. “Not a lot of folks could handle that.”

  “You called him Jasper.”

  “Right. That was the codename his crew used for him.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know,” Norman said, exasperated now. “It was their name for the leader. That’s all we know.”

  Michelle was now observing them intently, ignoring Kim’s idle chatter. With everything else going on, Brendan’s brain had a tough time slotting all the puzzle pieces together. His brother wasn’t Jasper; that much was clear. Before her death, Spee had whispered Michelle’s name. Brendan had thought she’d been worried because Michelle had been shot, but now that he thought about it, Spee couldn’t have known about that.