“What?” Agnes asked with a sudden stab of cold inside her chest. “What’s happening?”
“They have returned.”
“Who?”
“The two guys in the old BMW. The ones with the tied-up woman in the backseat.”
Agnes walked over to the shop window to have a better look at the perimeter of the petrol station. Petrol Pumps 1 through 6. Everything was as deserted as ever. “I don’t see them.”
“They’re parked some way up the highway. I think they’re watching us.” Belinda nodded in their direction. Still, Agnes needed to go all the way over next to her to spot the white BMW. Or a white BMW. Dusk was setting in now, and the car was so far away she couldn’t be sure it was the same car.
“There’s a lot of Beemers in this world,” she said in a dim voice. No, actually, she was whispering. She didn’t know, why she was whispering, but she did. “It doesn’t have to be the same car.”
“One headlight’s out. It’s the same car.”
Agnes tried to remember. Was one of the headlights broken on the BMW the two fools were driving? She couldn’t recall. She remembered the two young men, the camera, the old rusty BMW…but whether or not one of the headlights was out…she just couldn’t recall anymore.
“It’s them alright, I can feel it,” Belinda maintained in a firm voice, as if that settled it.
At that moment, the car started moving toward the petrol station.
IT’S NOT THAT STRANGE TAKING THE SAME WAY BACK
“Fuck,” Belinda gasped. “What do we do? What do we do?”
“Stay calm,” Agnes said, even though she could feel her neck muscles tighten. “It’s no use freaking out.”
The BMW had turned off the highway and into the petrol station. However, instead of driving up to one of the petrol pumps, it had stopped out by the big sign with the gas prices. Engine still running, white exhaust drifting over the tarmac behind the car. It was the same BMW. Despite being kept away from the bright light under the petrol station’s canopy, it was still being illuminated by the dim light from the price sign. There was no doubt. It was the same car.
“I was in a robbery once,” Belinda whispered. “I was working at the big Shell station on the other side of town back then. By two junkies. They parked close to the station in the same manner for a real long time before they came in and held us up, with box cutters.”
Agnes shifted her gaze from the car to Belinda’s face. “What happened?”
“We gave them the money and called the police when they were gone. One of them was shaking like crazy. I almost considered taking him down, hitting him with something heavy, you know, but of course, we’re not allowed to do that. Same rules as here. Give them the money. Close the petrol station. Call the police.”
“I’m so scared of being robbed. I don’t know if I could handle something like that. I mean afterwards, the trauma.”
Belinda shot her a hard stare. “You will sooner or later, working a place like this.”
The car was still out there. A sudden dagger of cold filled Agnes’s insides. “How did you handle the trauma afterwards? Did you get counseling?”
“Nothing really happened, you know. No need for any of that.”
“You kidding? You can get PTSD from that kind of a trauma. You need counseling to get through it.”
Belinda raised her eyebrows as her attention returned to the BMW. “Can you see what they’re doing?”
Agnes squinted. Still, she only managed to spot the two guys as unmoving silhouettes behind the windscreen. “No,” she says.
“What about the woman in the backseat. You see her?”
“Where?”
“In the backseat, behind the creep driving the car.”
Agnes shook her head. “Maybe, it’s the headrest…”
“What?!”
“Maybe we should calm down a bit. There could a thousand reasons for them parking out there.”
“Oh? Like what?”
“Agnes looked down at her worn All-Stars. “I don’t know. Maybe they’re on their way home. It’s not that strange taking the same way back. Maybe, they’re counting their coins to see if they have enough to buy…I don’t know. Everything’s possible. Let’s not jump to conclusions here. Let’s wait and see what they’re up to, okay?”
“They are sitting there, watching us. We’re completely illuminated in here. I bet they could even see the two of us when they were parked up on the hill before. They know we have spotted them. They know we are scared, and I think, they like it that way.”
“Belinda…”
“You know what I think? I think they have been around all the petrol stations in the area with their stupid video camera, searching for the most vulnerable among them. That’s us. Two girls alone in a petrol station far away from everything, no neighbors or shit. Now, they’re back, and we’re f…”
“Stop it!” Agnes grabbed Belinda by the arm. “Stop it right now! Or we’ll both freak out. You’re not thinking straight.”
“I’m not? They have a woman in the backseat with duct tape covering her mouth.”
“Well, I didn’t see her, remember? And even if there was a woman, Belinda god damn it, it doesn’t make sense! Could you imagine a couple of petrol station robbers driving around with a kidnapped woman in the backseat, searching for the right place to rob?”
Belinda unhanded herself from Agnes and stepped away from her. “I don’t really think they’re planning on robbing us, you know.”
Agnes frowned. “Then what?”
“I think we’re the target. You and me. They’re psychos, Agnes. I told you.”
Scanning the cigarette packets on the shelves on the wall behind the counter, searching for the right words, it hit Agnes that Belinda might have had some serious benefits had she seen a counselor after the robbery. “I can handle them if that makes you feel better,” she finally says. “If they decide to come in that is.” She stretched her back, pretending to be far more self-assured than she felt, then turned her back to the shop window and the car parked outside. “You are free to stay in the back room while I handle them. No problem.”
BREATHING HISSED INSIDE HIS THROAT
He moaned again as she examined his face, her fingers scrambling over the broken nose.
“Ouch!” he snapped.
“Benjamin! Can you hear me?” Cupping her hands around his cheeks, she leaned in close. “Benjamin?” She could feel the stubble on his cheeks scratching the skin on her own cheek, still she was unable to see him in the complete darkness.
“Agnes?” His voice nothing but a coarse whisper.
She started crying.
“Agnes,” he repeated. Now she could feel his hand searching her, his arm going around her back to hold her. Breathing hissed inside his throat.
“Where are we?” she whispered.
“No idea.” His arm slid off her back. “This guy’s a mad man, Agnes. He’s going to kill us.”
Staying close to him, she found some comfort in the warmth of his body.
“You need to have a look at…my leg,” he whispered after a while. “I think, I’m bleeding rather badly.”
“Where?”
Finding her hand in the dark, he directed it to his own thigh, grunting with pain as her fingers touched the wound through a rip in his trousers. She felt blood running. The fabric of his trousers around the wound was heavy with blood.
“What happened?” she gasped as the cold of the basement floor crept into her body. “Oh my god, what has he done to you?”
HE HAD SOMETHING IN HIS HAND
However, Belinda didn’t have time to go to the back room, even if she wanted to. In that same moment, the driver’s side door of the BMW swung open, and a large man climbed out of the car. Agnes could only see him in silhouette, illuminated by the price sign behind the car, but his size left no doubt. It was the shy one, Oscar, the one not filming her.
Belinda gasped in terror next to her as he turned to face the shop,
and in that instant it felt like he was looking directly at them. Goosebumps formed on both her arms, Agnes fought the urge to ride along with Belinda’s mindset by moving her focus away from the big guy, to the price sign behind him.
“The five has fallen down,” she said in a thin voice.
“What?” Belinda snapped next to her.
“The five on the price on unleaded. It says 10,_3 kroner per liter—not 10,53 as it is supposed to.”
Belinda whimpered as Oscar started to move. He crossed the tarmac and walked between the petrol pumps, heading straight at the shop. “Here he comes,” Belinda said.
“Yeah.”
Walking fast, almost jogging, his face was grim. He had something in his hand…
PAIN MADE BENJAMIN’S BODY TENSE
“We have to stop the bleeding,” she said. “Are you wearing a belt?” She already knew the answer: Benjamin hardly ever wore a belt. Neither did she.
“No,” he grunted.
She was pressing her fingers into the wound, trying to stop the bleeding. Still, she felt blood flowing out between them.
“Is it possible to make a tourniquet using a pair of trousers? If I tie them real tight around your leg?”
“Maybe.” He gulped for breath. “I’m not sure there’s room for that. The wound is not that far down my thigh, I don’t think.”
Using her other hand, Agnes tried to judge by touch exactly how far down his thigh the stab wound was. She had to change hands, now pressing the fingers of her left hand into the wound to get a good feel of the thigh. The pain made Benjamin’s body tense as she changed over, and she had to fight the urge to pull her fingers away. She hated causing him pain, even if she was trying to save his life.
“I think there might be room for a tourniquet. We need to stop the bleeding, before I can search for a way out of here.”
He caught her free hand in the darkness and held it tight. “Maybe, it would be better if you just…”
“No!” Briefly releasing the pressure on his wound, she pulled her other hand from his grip and took off her T-shirt. “Here, can you hold this against your wound as I strip off my trousers?”
She felt him taking hold of the T-shirt and moving it to his thigh. Naked to her waist, the cold air made her start to shiver. Her nipples turned hard. She rolled over on to her back and unbuttoned her jeans. The concrete floor ripped into the skin on her back, making pain flash through her injured body.
The moment she’d finished unbuttoning her jeans, light switched on in an explosion of white. She screamed, covering her eyes with her hands, as she rolled on to her side. The lights were so bright, and in such contrast to the total darkness the minute before. It felt like needles being pushed into her eyeballs.
She felt nothing else. Didn’t hear Benjamin screaming in pain next to her, or the sound of footsteps closing in. She sensed nothing but the shock of light.
Until a hand grabbed hold of her hair and dragged her along the concrete floor, flailing about like a fish on land, lost in a firework of agony.
THERE’S ONLY BEEN A FEW CUSTOMERS TONIGHT
Agnes met Belinda’s eyes the second the automatic doors slid open to let Oscar inside. He had his wallet in his hand and a confused expression on his face. He looked from Agnes to Belinda and back again.
“Is something the matter here?” he asked, dumbfounded.
“No,” Agnes hurried to answer. “What can I do for you?”
“We were in here earlier this evening,” he continued, moving up to the counter. “We bought a couple of colas and some gas. You were the one attending the shop back then.”
“I remember. Your friend with the video camera is not one you’ll forget that easily.”
“No.” He shook his head. “I guess he isn’t.”
“What do you want?” Belinda snapped. “Why have you come back?”
He looked at her in surprise, lifting both hands in submission. “Easy now! I lost my credit card somewhere tonight. I just figured I’d stop by to see if it was here.”
Agnes could feel the muscles in the back of her neck relax. “Your credit card?” She must have been more caught up in Belinda’s fantasies about psychopathic maniacs than she’d believed herself to be. “I’m sorry,” she answered. “We haven’t found any lost credit cards.”
“No lost credit cards,” Belinda repeats with relief in her voice. “There’s only been a few customers tonight, so…”
“Besides!” Agnes suddenly remembered. “You paid cash. I handed you the change, remember?”
“I might have,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…You both seemed a little upset when I walked in…I sure hope I didn’t…”
“Oh no!” Agnes laughed. “No, no, no, that wasn’t you. Don’t worry about it.”
“Okay. Right. Thank you for your help. I’d better call in to have that credit card blocked then.” He shrugged and turned to leave.
“Hey!” Belinda yelled quickly. “Wait a minute!”
“What?”
“Who was that woman in the backseat of your car?”
Agnes cringed. “Belinda…!”
“In the backseat?”
“Yeah, there was a woman sitting in the backseat of your car when you were here earlier on. She had duct tape around her mouth.”
His mouth fell slowly open as he shifted his eyes from Belinda to Agnes. His larynx moving up and down as though he were trying to swallow something. “Oh my,” he said, looking embarrassed. “That wasn’t a real woman.”
Agnes was amazed to see him even blush.
“Then what the fuck was it?” Belinda stepped in front of Agnes, pushing her aside. “I saw her!”
“It was a love doll. Frederik, my friend out in the car, the one with camera.” Seeking Agnes’s eyes for support, but not finding any, he blushed even more. “It was his idea. Alexander, a friend of ours, has his thirtieth birthday today. He’s sort of a kinky guy, so Frederik wanted to do a little trolling with him, giving him a handcuffed love doll with duct tape covering its open mouth. I know, it’s too far out.” He laughed disarmingly. “And then, Alexander wasn’t even home when we arrived with the doll and all. So, we had to leave it outside his front door.”
THEY WERE JUST SOME MORONS
The taillights of the white Beemer lit up as Oscar briefly touched the brakes, leaving the petrol station to drive off, tires screaming.
Inside the brightly lit shop, Agnes and Belinda couldn’t stop laughing. Eyes watering, they stopped to catch air, then broke down laughing again as their eyes meet. All the tension having built between them during the night grew wings and flew away.
“A love doll?” Belinda choked the words out between waves of laugher. “A fucking love doll?”
And then more laughter.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve had such a good laugh,” Agnes declared as the laughter finally wore off. She wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her t-shirt and shook her head.
“Me too,” Belinda agreed in disbelief. “You were right. They were just some morons.”
Agnes laughed again, but not as before. It was a quiet, dry laughter. “You were right as well. There was a woman in the backseat with duct tape over her mouth.”
“Yeah.”
“Your mascara is a mess again.”
“Fuck me.” Belinda found her pocket mirror and, at the sight of her own reflection, started laughing all over again.
Agnes looked out at the lighted area of the petrol pumps in front of the shop. The darkness surrounding the place seemed darker now. A truck rushed by out on the highway, and she let her eyes follow it along, until she turned her back to the window.
Belinda was working on her mascara, “It’s incredible how fast you can wind yourself up like that,” she said, not taking her eyes off the mirror. “Some people just don’t realize this. Then they end up living their lives in fear and anxiety from imaginary threats that are not even there at all. You know I feel sorry for those who d
o that. Still, I don’t think they can control it.”
Agnes started to laugh again, but a confused and even hurt look from Belinda stopped her. “Just thinking of that love doll,” Agnes said, feeling lonely deep inside. Surveying the rows of colas in the fridge, she was thinking of Benjamin—how she longed to talk to him, to get this weird evening off her chest. She needed him, needed to disappear into his strong arms, his warmth, and a glass of that Cuban rum he kept for special occasions in the back of the cabinet.
“Fuck!” Belinda’s voice cut through her thoughts, erasing the image of Benjamin and the Cuban rum. “Fuckfuckfuck!”
“What?”
“The air pump!”
Agnes turns around once again to look out on the lighted area. And there it was, the air pump, right there in the middle of it all. It was as if an icy cold hand had reached down deep inside her, jabbing at her heart.
“It wasn’t like that a minute ago,” she whispered. “I would have noticed.”
Belinda moved over to her side. “It sure wasn’t the love doll morons who put it there.”
Agnes swallowed as her eyes took in the deserted petrol station.
THE BRIGHTLY LIT PETROL STATION MADE THE SURROUNDING DUSK SEEM EVEN DARKER
Belinda was humming the new tune by the Danish artist Medina—a little too loudly—as she quickly stepped out between the rows of petrol pumps to get the air pump. She instantly got the feeling that someone was watching her. Mid verse she halted abruptly, squinting her eyes as she scoured the encroaching darkness surrounding the petrol station. It was difficult to pinpoint anything other than the black silhouettes of trees and distant farms against the blue darkness. A couple of times, she almost believed she spotted something moving. However, when she got a closer look, it turned out to be nothing at all, or just the trees swaying gently in the wind. She could see lights on in the windows of a few farms, far off in the distance.
The Ringmaster Page 4
