Last to Die: A gripping psychological thriller not for the faint hearted

by Arlene Hunt

  ‘What do you think?’

  ‘I think I might let you drive for a bit.’

  Captain hung his head over the side of the trailer and wagged his tail at Ace’s voice.

  ‘Let’s go inside and ask.’

  The elderly proprietor eyeballed them hard for a long moment upon hearing the name they asked after.

  ‘Switch?’

  ‘Yes sir,’ Mike replied.

  ‘They’re all gone, far as I know.’

  The door behind them dinged as another man came into the store. He was young but brawny and walked with the cocky swagger of a man used to getting his way.

  ‘Howdy, Ed.’

  ‘Buddy,’ the old man nodded, leaning both hands on the counter. ‘That be all fellas?’

  Mike stepped to the side to let the younger man pass, but he stood near them instead, glancing out through the dirty glass of the door towards Ace’s truck.

  ‘That your dog?’

  ‘Yep.’

  ‘What kind is he?’

  ‘Part Plott, part Catahoula.’

  ‘Nice-looking animal. How much he go for?’

  Ace threw down the money for his smokes and the gas. ‘Where’d they used to be?’ he asked the storeowner. ‘Before they were gone?’

  ‘Mister, I don’t know how many ways I can tell you the nothing I know.’

  Ace looked at him for a long moment.

  ‘Problem, Ed?’ The younger man said.

  ‘None that needs be.’

  Mike shuffled from one foot to the other. ‘Come on, let’s go.’

  Ace tipped his cap with his index finger and pocketed his smokes. Outside, he lit one and wiped the back of his neck with his hand.

  ‘Now what?’ Mike said.

  ‘I need to give Captain a drink. Go in the truck, I’ll be but a minute. I need to buy some water.’

  ‘There’s water in the truck.’

  ‘It’s warm. I want to get him some cold water.’

  Mike glanced back at the store. ‘Ace, come on.’

  ‘I’ll be but a minute.’

  Mike dragged his heels slowly towards the truck. Ace waited for him to reach it before he pitched his cigarette away and re-entered the store.

  Minutes ticked by. Mike fidgeted and kept his eyes on the door. He wished there were not so many old signs and stickers on the glass. He thought he could see movement within but could not ascertain who was doing the moving. After what seemed like an age, Ace reappeared and strolled across the forecourt.

  He climbed into the truck and slammed the door.

  ‘Where’s the water?’

  ‘Huh?’

  ‘The cold water.’

  ‘Ah, the freezer was busted, no colder than what we already have.’

  The younger man came out and hurried directly to his truck, head straight and his eyes fixed on the ground. He got to his vehicle and left tracks on the forecourt in his haste to get going.

  ‘Got an address on the Switch family.’

  ‘Huh?’

  ‘I was asking about the water when the old man suddenly remembered where the Switch family lived. Aldo’s daughter, Grace, is still there.’

  ‘He remembered names and all, just like that?’

  ‘Just like that,’ Ace said. ‘Memory is funny that way.’

  For the first time in days Mike laughed.

  Half an hour later, they pulled up outside a wooden house surrounded by husks of long-abandoned, rusting machinery. An old Pontiac with a busted tail light sat in the main drive and a chained sandy-coloured dog came out from under the porch and barked at them. The dog was old and stiff-legged; its bark was high and fearful.

  ‘You sure this is the right place?’

  ‘This is it.’

  They peered through the windscreen and as they did a woman came out onto the porch, carrying an infant on her hip, and stared at them. Mike could not tell if the child was male or female. The woman was probably only in her mid-twenties but she looked worn down. She wore her hair long with thick bangs. She had on a yellow jumper of a type even Mike knew had never been in fashion and a denim skirt buttoned down the front. Despite the heat, her legs disappeared into a pair of tasselled suede boots. Her expression was wary, hostile even, and she remained close to the door as they approached. Mike and Ace stopped before the steps to the porch.

  ‘Ma’am, my name is Mike Conway. This is my brother, Ace.’

  ‘I ain’t interested in your names,’ the woman said. Her voice was soft and heavily accented, almost singsong, ‘ah ain inturrestad n yr naymes’.

  ‘Are you Grace Switch?’

  ‘Why you askin’?’

  ‘Ma’am, we wanted to ask you about some arrows your daddy had.’

  ‘My daddy’s dead.’

  ‘Yes ma’am, we did hear so, but we were hoping you might be able to recollect if he sold them on to anyone? Or if maybe your brother might still have them.’

  Mike passed her one of the photos Nathaniel had given them.

  Her reaction was immediate. It was as though Mike had thrown a bucket of ice water in her face. Every muscle stiffened for a beat, then softened. She could control her features, Mike thought, but she could not disguise the fear in her eyes.

  ‘I don’t know nothin’ about him. I don’t know where he’s at so don’t ask me.’

  ‘Ma’am?’

  ‘What did I just say?’ She looked around her, ‘I don’t know nothin’ about his business, so don’t ask me.’

  Mike walked to the edge of the porch steps. The dog growled at him, putting a bit more energy into his warning than he had his greeting.

  ‘Please, ma’am. I really need your help.’

  ‘I don’t need to be involved in any of his business.’

  ‘Yes, you do, you need to know my name and you need to know my face. My name is Mike Conway; my wife’s name is Jessie Conway. She’s been missing since Friday.’

  He jumped down from the step and went back to the jeep to get the arrow, which he then carried back to the porch. ‘This here was found close to my dog; he was shot.’ He held it out for her to see. She glanced at it and swallowed a number of times rapidly. The skin around her eyes was pinched and white. She actually looked sick with fear.

  ‘My wife is missing.’

  ‘I can’t help you.’

  ‘Can’t or won’t.’

  ‘Please mister, you need to go.’

  ‘I don’t understand any of this,’ Mike said, her fear rubbing off on him. ‘If you know something you need to talk to me. What do you mean your brother’s business? Does he have these arrows?’

  ‘Didn’t you hear me? I can’t help you, I am heartily sorry.’

  Ace approached the steps. The dog backed up at his approach. ‘I understand your reluctance to talk to us ma’am, but this is real important.’

  ‘You don’t understand,’ she said, her head whipping around so fast the child she carried whimpered. ‘I can’t talk to y’all … if he finds out … you need to leave.’

  Mike lunged and grabbed her by her free hand. The dog flung itself against the chain, snapping and snarling, practically strangling itself to reach him. The child began to howl in terror.

  ‘If you know something you need to tell me.’

  ‘Let go of me.’

  ‘Mike!’

  Ace grabbed him and hauled him back off the step.

  ‘You know something!’ Mike yelled. ‘I know you know something; I can see it in your face. You know what it is – you tell me what’s happened to my wife! Goddamn you!’

  She stood rigid for a moment, white as a sheet. The child was screaming, clinging to her with its face squeezed tight and red. Suddenly she bolted for the door and slammed it shut behind her.

  Ace shoved Mike, hard. ‘Get in the truck.’

  ‘Get the hell off me. It’s all right for you to strong-arm some old coot but I can’t shake the one person who knows where Jessie might be?’

  ‘Shut the hell up and get in the damn
truck. I ain’t asking again.’

  Mike glanced once at the door and muttered a curse. He stalked around to the passenger side, got in and slammed the door hard enough to make the half-ton truck shake. Ace removed his cap and wiped the sweat from his head with the back of his arm. He spat, shook his head and walked back onto the porch. He leaned his head against the door and tapped it gently.

  ‘Ma’am, I don’t know if you can hear me. I want to apologise for my brother scaring you like that. He’s pretty upset about his wife.’ He waited for a beat. ‘I know you’re a good person, I know you’re scared. But Grace, you can, right here, you can help us and in doing so we might be able to help you some. If your brother is connected with Jessie’s disappearance and I catch up to him you best believe he’s not going to be bothering you about it. You understand what I’m telling you?’

  Ace stuck a cigarette in his mouth, struck a match against the wood frame and lit it. He stood there for almost a full two minutes before the door opened to a slit.

  Her eyes searched his face and her voice when she spoke was soft and resigned. ‘You bein’ straight with me? His wife is gone?’

  ‘Yes, ma’am.’

  ‘What you say is real tight?’

  ‘Tighter than a drum. If he has Jessie then he ain’t got no wiggle room with me.’

  She sighed and leaned against the doorframe. Ace could smell the sweat coming from her body; the skin around her hairline was prickled with droplets of moisture. She looked past him to the truck. Ace did not push her. He knew she was struggling with a decision of magnitude.

  ‘He won’t go easy. You need to understand that. Caleb ain’t going to quit.’

  ‘Okay.’

  ‘No, now you need to understand what I am sayin’ to you. You think you’re gonna go up there and take him to the law, make him talk. But you don’t know him. You don’t know nuthin’ like him. He’s not like other folk. He don’t think like folk and he don’t act like them. You need to remember that.’

  ‘I will, ma’am. I won’t hurt your brother, if I can help it.’

  She looked up at him, her eyes widening.

  ‘Then my God that is the rock you will perish on.’

  ‘Ma’am?’

  ‘My brother is like a rabid dog. You can’t reason with him, you can’t figure him out. You get a chance to take him down, mister, you better not waste it, because he won’t.’

  66

  Jessie scrabbled her way under a scrub bush and pressed her body into the dust, panting and in agony. She felt weak and nauseous. Her arm hurt so badly it was agony to move it.

  She wiped the sweat from her brow with her good hand and tried to squint through the dappled light and the spindly trees. She visualised him on her trail, seeing him drawing closer as she dithered and dilly-dallied on the edge of sanity, with only her heart racing in her ears for company.

  She was trapped and she knew it, as it had taken her no time at all to run the length of the cover and realise it was scant. With him below somewhere, her chances of climbing into the rocks and finding water or shade were completely blown. But if she remained where she was he would be on her in no time.

  She closed her eyes for a moment, wishing she could think straight. Up, she needed to go up, and to do that she needed to climb without being shot. Inexplicably, she thought of Kyle Saunders, of his face when she had rushed at him in the school. With that, another thought came to her. A thought so ridiculous she momentarily forgot her pain.

  I must be delirious.

  So what?

  Crazy.

  What choice did she have?

  Jessie crawled out from under the bush and took another look at the overhanging rocks. She knew that if she ever was to reach them there was only one thing she could do. At that moment crazy was all she had.

  She got up and began to run. She broke cover and bolted for the huge boulders that marked the beginning of the rock climb.

  Caleb saw her break cover and disappear into the rocks. He gave a satisfied grunt as he cleared the top of the scree and stood sucking air.

  It was time to finish this.

  He took off after her, keeping his eyes on the sections of rock around which she had vanished. He saw blood on the ground and knew from the way she was running that she was injured. Part of him was glad. It was hot and he was tired from the climb. There was nowhere from here but up, and even if she did attempt it, at this stage he would, despite his earlier reluctance, simply shoot her down if he had to.

  Caleb reached the rocks, noticed another large smear of blood on two of them and pressed on. It was ridiculously easy. The blood droplets were as obvious as wet footprints in sand. He squeezed his body between two massive boulders towards a ledge that led to a wider shelf. He was adjusting his quiver when something struck him on the head.

  Caleb staggered backwards. He raised his hands, but something looped around his arms and stuck him a second unmerciful blow.

  He tried to remain upright, but dropped onto one knee. Dazed from the blow, he fumbled the Winchester from his shoulder just as Jessie Conway dropped into the gap from the rock above, swung her foot and kicked him square in the chest.

  Caleb tumbled backwards, the Winchester gone from his hands. He saw it land by the ledge and grunted as he and Jessie lunged towards it. Jessie reached it first. In desperation, Caleb ripped his knife free from its scabbard and struck out wildly.

  The knife caught Jessie. She screamed and Caleb felt blood spray across the back of his hand. He tried to stab her again, but she rolled and swung something towards his head. This time Caleb snatched at it, locked his fingers around it and hauled. Jessie let go and dived for the Winchester, but Caleb was too quick, and in the tussle the gun tipped over the ledge and was gone. Jessie twisted her body away and kicked him, catching him in the hip. She climbed to her feet. Caleb saw that he had wounded her in the thigh and that she was bleeding badly. She was pretty torn up everywhere else too, he noticed, blinking hard as his vision flickered and blurred. Jessie glanced at him, her eyes wild.

  Then Caleb was alone.

  He tried to get up, but could not. The buzzing sound filled his head. He leaned all his weight on one hand and tilted his head back, careful to breathe through his mouth. He tasted copper. There was blood and dust in his mouth and nostrils and blood on his hands – some hers, some his. He blinked and focused on what he had taken from her.

  It was a bra; a lacy bra filled with rocks, the material tied in a knot around them.

  Despite his pain, Caleb began to laugh. He looked at the sky above and howled with laughter, ignoring the lightning in his brain, the blood, the broken tooth clacking against its neighbours. He might never have stopped had he not needed to lean forward and spit blood from his mouth.

  After a while he rose shakily to his feet and wiped his eyes. He picked up his bow and checked it over to make sure it was undamaged. No matter about the gun, he thought, sliding his quiver onto his hip. By the time he was finished with this bitch she be would be sorry that being shot was no longer an option.

  67

  It was late afternoon, rolling into early evening, by the time Mike and Ace reached the area Caleb’s sister had said to check, and a further hour before Ace managed to find the road with the little wooden bridge. ‘Quiet ’round here, ain’t it?’ he said as they drove across.

  ‘We haven’t met a single vehicle in over an hour.’ Mike squinted through the open window at the dense woodland on either side of the road. ‘Or a house for that matter.’

  ‘She said this guy won’t come easy,’ Ace said, leaning one arm out the window.

  ‘I don’t give a shit about that. I don’t give a shit about him. I just want to know where Jessie is.’

  ‘He might take some persuading.’

  Mike glanced at his brother. ‘We need him alive to talk.’

  ‘I know that.’

  ‘We on the same page here, right Ace? My only priority is to find Jessie.’

  ‘There might be
bloodshed.’

  ‘Then so be it.’

  Muscles jumped in Ace’s jaw. A few miles further on, they came to a fork in the road. Ace slowed the truck to a crawl.

  ‘We do this there’s no going back, Mike.’

  ‘There’s no going anywhere without her. Drive.’

  Ace released the clutch and took the right road. They drove for another half mile, before turning off onto a lane barely wide enough for the truck to pass. Finally, they pulled off the track into a small homestead, the front yard thick with weeds and grass.

  The cabin was old, but they could see it had been maintained. The roof looked relatively new, but it was the steel door, incongruously fixed to the front of the property, that stood out most. Ace crawled the truck in, his eyes watchful. To the rear of the cabin stood an ancient barn; its roof sagged like a swaybacked horse.

  Ace backed the truck under some trees and faced it towards the road. When he got out, Ace took his rifle from the rack and carried it loose in his hand. He quieted Captain with a soft word and looked towards the cabin.

  ‘No sign of action.’

  ‘I see that.’ Mike lifted his own rifle. ‘Let’s go.’

  They walked around the cabin to be sure there was no one home. All the windows and doors were locked.

  ‘What do you want to do?’ Ace asked.

  Mike stepped up onto the porch, turned his rifle and smashed one of the windows with the stock. He knocked out the remaining glass, handed Ace his weapon to hold and climbed through the window. He returned the favour and Ace climbed in after him.

  Ace stood on the bare boards and looked around at the animal heads hanging from the walls and the old weapons that adorned the beams. ‘Looks like a hunter’s lodge.’

  Mike tore through the cabin in minutes but there was no trace that Jessie had ever been there. He cursed and ran his hands through his hair. ‘She’s not here. Jesus, Ace, there’s no sign of her. What if this is a wild fucking goose chase, huh? What then? We’ve been wasting our time? We’re what? What? She’s been gone for days, she could be anywhere. She could be … anywhere.’ Mike dropped to his haunches and hid his face behind his hand, his rifle cradled in the crook of his arm.