Dead in Bed By Bailey Simms, Part 1

by Adrian Birch

I had no choice but to walk the half-mile from the motel to the fairgrounds, where I hoped my car would still be parked.

  All the way there I still felt weirdly great.

  I kept expecting a massive hangover to hit me, but it never came. I didn’t even have to pee, and I wasn’t really thirsty at all. I honestly don’t think I’d ever felt more rejuvenated in my life.

  It was only when I reached the highway that I realized something was wrong.

  It had to be the Saturday evening of fair weekend, but there wasn’t a single car on the road.

  The traffic should have been bumper to bumper, even worse than it had been last night. Any other time of year, an empty highway would have been perfectly normal. But not tonight.

  I walked faster. My footsteps through the gravel at the road’s shoulder was the only sound I could hear. It occurred to me, hurrying along while the sun sank into the mountains way off in the west, that I hadn’t seen a single person since I’d woken up. Not one.

  The lights at the rodeo arena were on. And most of the street lights too.

  But as I approached the fairgrounds, all of the carnival rides were totally dark. The Ferris wheel’s motionless silhouette rose up over the feedlot’s corrugated tin roof. There was no blaring carnival music, no roar of souped-up engines at the Saturday-night destruction derby, no cheers from the grandstands.

  I hopped the fence into the parking lot.

  There were only a few cars left. I was so relieved when I spotted my little gray sedan, parked all alone in the dimming evening light, that I practically ran to it.

  I’d lost my set of keys along with my phone, but thank God Shawn had insisted that I keep a spare hidden under the battery. I popped the hood and found the extra key right where it should have been.

  But the car door wasn’t locked. Which was odd, because if there was ever I time I’d be sure to lock my car door, it was during fair, especially if I’d parked in the public lot.

  I wanted to get out of there as soon as I could and go home, or maybe to my parents’, or to Ian and Danielle’s, and to figure out what the fuck was going on.

  I tried not to think about the unlocked door for now and I jammed the key into the ignition. Just as I put the car into drive I noticed something on the passenger seat.

  It was a hoodie. A man’s. I kept my foot on the brake and held up the fabric.

  It was Ian’s black Army hoodie. The one I’d seen him wearing at the bar.

  So Ian had been in my car last night.

  I tried again to think as hard as I could about what had happened after we were all at the bar. But it was no use. I had no memory whatsoever of anything after that.

  In the dimming light I almost didn’t even see that there was something else on the seat. But when I moved the hoodie aside, there it was.

  A gun. Ian’s gun. I recognized it right away.

  It wasn’t like Ian was one of those guys who packed everywhere he went, but he must have been carrying it last night in the bar. And he must have had a reason.

  But why would he have left his gun in my car? With the door unlocked?

  It didn’t make sense.

  Something was wrong. Something was really wrong. I had to get to Ian right away. I had to talk to him and find out what the hell was going on.

  I hit the gas and drove my little car as fast as I could to toward the fairground’s nearest exit.

  The exit was in the back, near the stockyard. On the way there I saw that everything at the carnival was totally shut down. All the food stalls were closed, and as far as I could tell, even the animals had been taken out of their pens. My headlights flooded the road and all of the motionless rides, but I didn’t see a single soul.

  When I reached the gate, it was blocked.

  A pair of wooden police barriers spanned the entire road. What the fuck was going on?

  Someone knocked hard on my window. I almost screamed.

  “Ma’am?” It was a male voice, but it was too dark now to see who it was. Another couple of pounding knocks. “Can’t leave here, Ma’am.”

  It was a cop. He was knocking with his flashlight. I don’t know if I was more relieved that it was a cop and not someone trying to kill me or that it was simply another human being, the very first I’d seen that day.

  I rolled down the window.

  My eyes adjusted to the glare of the flashlight, and now I could see that the cop was Jason. Fucking great.

  “I’m not authorized to let you through here, Ma’am.”

  “Ma’am? Who’s Ma’am? What the fuck, Jason?”

  “Ashley. Whatever. You can’t pass through here.” He was obviously still hung over, but this wasn’t stopping him from acting like an ass-hole cop now that he was on duty. “Vehicles can’t come or go until the search is over. Why are you even here? Why aren’t you at home?”

  “I’m trying to go home,” I said. “Just let me out.”

  “Can’t. Can’t let anyone in or out. We still haven’t caught those guys yet.”

  “What guys?”

  “Are you kidding me?” Jason leaned casually against my car and folded his arms. This enraged me even further. “The guys who attacked that girl. Where have you been?”

  Immediately my thoughts leapt to Haley. “What girl?”

  “I don’t know.” Jason shrugged. “Some girl. Some kid. It was two guys who did it. We’re still looking for them. We’re combing the fairgrounds. It’ll take a little time. The whole place is locked down. Here and the high school both. How do you not know about all this? Everyone was supposed to be out by two-thirty last night. They were announcing it for hours.” Now he grinned that stupid smug grin of his. “Where were you?” He laughed. “You were fucking hammered last night! Having a little too much fun?” With this he gave a few rabbit-like thrusts of his pelvis.

  I was too worried about Haley to care.

  “Who was the girl, Jason? Just tell me who the girl was.”

  “I told you I don’t know, Ashley. Maybe if you weren’t so shitfaced drunk last night you could have found out for yourself.”

  In the briefest of moments I thought about the gun under Ian’s hoodie. But I wasn’t stupid.

  I had to focus on getting home as soon as possible, then calling Danielle on the landline. All I cared about right now was making sure that Haley was okay. I tried to remind myself that there were probably hundreds of little girls at the fair last night. But if something had happened to Haley after she’d begged me to take her to the carnival, and I wasn’t there, I’d have to kill myself.

  I had to stay calm. I had to. I couldn’t afford anything else.

  “Look,” I said to Jason, trying to control my voice. “You know me. I’m obviously not a suspect. All you have to do is move that roadblock and let me through.”

  Jason didn’t stop leaning against my car.

  He grinned. Again.

  “What’s the rush?” he said. “I mean, I can’t let you out. I told you that. And, hell, I sure could use some company.” Now he leaned in closer and lowered his voice. “Here I am, stuck out here all alone on a chilly evening. What’s the hurry?” He winked. “It’d be just like old times.”

  “Let me the fuck out.” It was everything I could do not to scream. “Right now. Jason. Let me the fuck out. There’s no way this is even legal. Let me the fuck out right now.”

  Jason put his head through the open window and brought it close to mine. He sniffed.

  “You been drinking? Ashley? Are you still drunk, maybe?” Now he put his finger under my chin and turned my face around toward his. He sniffed again. “I wonder if maybe you’re getting just a little belligerent. I wouldn’t want to have to detain you. But if I have to, I have to. It’d be for your own good.”

  I couldn’t even think. I hadn’t ever been so enraged in my life. I just acted without planning. Suddenly I found that I’d slammed my foot into the gas pedal.

  My car heaved forward. Jason spun around, and the next thing I saw of him wa
s just his hand flopping out through the window. I’m not sure, but I may have broken his arm.

  I didn’t have much time to wonder about it, though, because my bumper hit the two wooden police barricades. I lurched forward with the impact, and I worried for a moment that I might not make it through. But I just kept my foot on the gas, and my little car surged, knocked the barriers aside, and sent them tumbling onto the road.

  I looked into the rear-view mirror.

  My taillights were just bright enough to illuminate Jason limping forward. He raised his gun with one hand. I ducked and kept speeding forward as fast as my car would go. But I was already too far away; he lowered his gun without firing, and I turned the corner onto the completely empty highway.

  I drove faster and faster, trying to catch my breath, maxing out at a little over ninety miles an hour. The road was completely empty. The night was completely dark.

  And then I felt it: someone’s hand on my shoulder.

  For a moment I tried to reason that this was impossible, that maybe my seat belt had tightened when I’d crashed through the barricades. But I wasn’t wearing my seat belt.

  Someone really was in the back of my car—had been in the back of my car this whole time—and now they were touching my shoulder!

  I felt an index finger slowly rise up the skin on my neck. Very lightly, it touched my ear.

  I was driving way too fast to take my eyes off the road. My car was shuddering from the speed. Without really thinking about it, I held on tight to the wheel and reached for the gun. I felt its metallic grip at the tips of my fingers.

  But I didn’t grab it.

  And this is what’s really weird. This is what I still can’t figure out. Because more than anything else right then I was truly afraid that Haley had been hurt, or worse. I was also consumed by worry that I may have cheated on Shawn. And now I was truly, utterly terrified at the fact that someone was in the back of my car, running their finger along the softest part of my neck. And yet, despite all of this, that weirdly euphoric sensation of invincibility that had overcome me after waking up still hadn’t gone away. If anything, it was suddenly becoming more intense.

  Whoever was behind me drew their hand down over my shoulder, slowly across my ribs and abdomen, then plunged it, very softly, into my underwear.

  I still had no idea who it was, or how I could be so weirdly aroused at a moment like this. I flashed on dancing with Bryce Tripp last night, and lighting my cigarette from his, and his icy blue eyes, and I wondered if only someone as confident as he was could do anything so audacious as this.

  And then I remembered something else while still trying to slow my car down without wrecking it. It hadn’t been Morgan who’d talked Ian into having one more shot with us, like I’d thought earlier. It had been me. Morgan had been goading him, but it wasn’t until I’d spoken up that Ian finally glanced in my direction, and, for just a moment, he gave me this accidental look that seemed to say I’d do anything you ask me to do, anything at all. Then he drank down his second shot.

  I took my hand from the gun.

  Instead, I clutched the fabric of Ian’s hoodie in the seat beside me.

  Whoever it was in the back seat of my car right now, reaching even deeper into my underwear while I tried to keep the car on the road, it was probably more likely that it was anyone in the world other than Ian.

  And yet no matter how well I knew it couldn’t possibly be him, for a moment I hoped somehow that it was.

  January 6th, 2014. 11:19 a.m.

  Author’s Update

  I slept so well last night. I mean, yeah, I was terrified that I’d actually put the first part of my novel into the world. For a moment I worried that I’d made a huge mistake. I even almost took it down. After all, the story’s not exactly family friendly. Ha ha. But I’d been working crazy hard on writing it over the past week, and I was exhausted. I knew that people would probably hate my writing, but, still, after my moment of panic, I started to feel kinda good that I’d posted it as I drifted off. Really good, actually. Even if it was just on this blog. So I let myself feel a little happy.

  In case anyone actually starts reading this, I should probably say a little about who I am. That’s what you’re supposed to do, right? Well, I guess I'm just a girl from a small town who loves really good stories. My teacher told me I should try to publish my writing one day, so that’s what I’m trying to do — though suspense thrillers about a plague that turns people into crazed sex-fiends probably wasn't exactly what she had in mind! Ever since I learned about this stupid medical condition I came down with, though, I've been stuck at home without much else to do. And I really love writing. It's an escape, and it makes me feel better about things. I'll keep publishing new parts until the series ends — or until my dad finds out what I'm doing. (If he ever sees any of this, he'll kill me.)

  If by some miracle anyone out there starts reading this, it would be awesome to hear from you. Tweet or message @BaileySimms.

  xxBailey

  To continue reading instantly, find

  Dead in Bed, The Complete First Novel

  at any major online book retailer

  or visit baileysimms.com