by Ian Dawson
James knew what he had to do. It was the only thing he could do to try and save himself and the kids: he had to get help.
The burned and blistered boy ran up the street toward Rancho Road. It was a suicide mission at best, but it may be the only way that he could get a car to stop. It was late, which would mean not much traffic, but someone would drive past. That’s all he could hope for.
He made it to the end of the street and looked both ways. The fire had yet to reach the main road, but it was only a matter of time. In the distance he could finally hear them: sirens. He closed his eyes. They were coming. All he would have to do is wait for the fire trucks to arrive and he would be safe. And with any luck the young boys he and Austin had hurt would be, too.
James stood at the edge of the street and waited, the sound of sirens drawing closer.
For him, it was over. He broke down and began to cry.
CHAPTER SEVENTY-ONE
Austin was on the hunt. He could see the occasional flicker of a flashlight beam cut through the smoky haze. How did the kid get a flashlight? He didn’t care. All that mattered was that the kid didn’t get away.
And Austin knew that he wouldn’t. Not this time.
Austin gained enough ground to be at least one-hundred yards ahead of the kid. That’s when he made his move; he charged like a raging bull in a straight line toward the pathway where the kid was.
He could feel his face being whipped by low-lying branches. His eyes stung from the smoke and ash in the air. The heat was intensifying. His feet crunched down onto the dead leaves below. Nothing was more important than what he was about to do. He knew his mission. Knew what he wanted.
And he would kill the kid in order to get it.
CHAPTER SEVENTY-TWO
“Not much farther,” Daniel said. Pure adrenaline was pumping through his veins. He felt no pain from his foot, his jaw, or his body in general. It was all about escape and freedom now.
He could partially make out the amber light from a street lamp through the haze, which meant they were near the clearing. From there, Kyle would lead them to Megan’s house and they could call the cops.
His momentum was violently taken off course as he felt a large force slam into him. Daniel flew off the path and slammed his left shoulder hard into a tree. He heard heavy breathing and a distinct metal click.
Daniel rolled over onto his back out of breath. He saw the looming body of Austin through the smoke, backlit by the surrounding fire. He looked around briefly, no sign of Kyle. Had he already got him?
Daniel felt around for his piece of wood with the nails jutting out. Still in reach. He hoped Austin hadn’t seen him grab hold of it. Austin grabbed Daniel’s right foot and dragged him back to the path like a caveman would do with a dead animal carcass.
As Austin continued to drag him, Daniel saw the gun: a .38 Special. He recognized the weapon from a gun safety class he and his dad had taken together before he left for Iraq the second time.
He realized why Austin was dragging him into the light: Austin wanted to see the bullets rip through his skinny body as he killed him.
CHAPTER SEVENTY-THREE
Kyle had seen the figure moving out of the woods and toward the pathway at Daniel. Kyle’s head was reeling with thoughts, plans, ideas, anything to make the inevitable stop. Instead, he sprinted off the path and behind a tree.
As he watched the next series of events unfold, he had an idea. It was crazy, but he had to do something. He had to distract Austin.
Kyle ripped open his backpack, pulled out the empty water bottle, unzipped his fly, and took a piss in the plastic container. It became warm in his hand as he filled it.
He zipped back up and quietly snuck toward the older boy.
Austin stood over the kid, spit on him, then aimed the gun at his head. Despite what he was about to do, he felt an eerie calm about it. In a flash he saw the rest of his life – the discovery of the body, the investigation, the arrest, the trial, the conviction, the prison time, the books, the interviews, the infamy – and it all made perfect sense to him.
Why wasn’t the kid pleading for mercy? Why wasn’t he crying? He wanted him to beg. Wanted the kid to say something so he could say it on the stand at his trial in front of the boy’s family. But no words came.
“Hey, loser,” said a voice from behind. Austin turned toward the new voice and was splashed in the face with a warm liquid. Austin quickly realized that the liquid on his face and in his mouth and nose was piss. His eyes started to burn.
He fired the gun blindly in all directions. Three shots until the gun dry-fired. “I’ll kill you!” he shrieked. He wiped his eyes and face with his free hand. He could taste the urine on his tongue. He started to gag, unable to control himself. That’s when he heard the voice of the second boy he and James had taken.
“Enjoy prison,” he heard the kid say. He felt something hard hit the side of his neck, and what felt like small knives penetrating his flesh. His mouth gaped open as he dropped to his knees, landing hard on the rocky soil.
Daniel held his trusty piece of wood with both hands, yanking the nails out of Austin’s neck as he pulled the board free from its fleshy resting place. He watched as Austin’s stunned expression changed to one of pain as Daniel pulled out the nails. Blood spurted from the fresh wounds.
Daniel stepped back, Austin still grabbing for him with one hand while holding his punctured neck with the other.
Daniel continued to hold the piece of wood, ready to strike again if needed. He felt a rush of weakness once more, his vision blurred, and he could feel the piece of wood start to fall from his weakened grip.
As Daniel’s vision cleared, he saw Austin’s eyes light up with rage. Austin’s hand was pressed against his fresh wound, blood oozing over his fingers onto the ground. Austin roared at him, then charged.
Austin tackled Daniel to he ground, causing Daniel to drop his only means of defense. Austin wrapped his hands around Daniel’s neck and slammed the back of his head onto the hard, dry earth.
Daniel watched as Kyle appeared behind Austin, hitting him again and again with Daniel’s makeshift weapon. “Get of him! Get! Off!” he heard Kyle scream. Each strike sounded harder than the last. Still, Austin’s grip held fast around Daniel’s neck. Blood from Austin’s neck wound sprayed onto Daniel’s face.
Daniel couldn’t breathe. Austin’s grip became tighter the more Kyle hit him. He could see the feral look in Austin’s eyes and an ugly snarl on his lips that reveled the older boy’s crooked, tobacco-stained teeth.
Daniel looked past Austin and into the smoke-filled canopy of trees above him. Were those bricks? In a net? He could barely make out what looked like a rope extending from the net to a nearby tree. He followed it with his eyes until his peripheral vision had gone as far as it would go.
As best he could, Daniel moved his head to the side and saw it: a trip wire. He was about two feet from the wire, but he knew it was his only chance of survival. Austin slammed his head against the ground again, his grip even tighter. Daniel knew he had to act fast.
He had to get Austin to loosen his hands just for a moment so he could reach the trip wire. He moved his hands around on either side of him looking for something, anything to use as a weapon. Nothing but leaves.
He made eye contact with Austin, then realized what he had to do. Daniel took his fingers and jammed them into the wound on the side of Austin’s neck. Austin howled and released his grip on Daniel’s neck.
With all his might, Daniel shifted around and crawled toward the trip wire. He wrapped his hand around it. “Kyle, move!” he yelled as he yanked the wire with all his might, the wire digging into the flesh of his palm.
Daniel covered his head as he heard the bricks fall from the sky and slam onto Austin. As the net opened, bricks landed on Daniel’s exposed legs and back.
“Daniel!” Kyle said as he r
an over to Daniel’s side. Daniel coughed, the combination of smoke and being choked making it hard for him to breathe.
“I’m okay,” he said, his voice hoarse.
A hand gripped Daniel’s injured foot. Pain shot through his entire body, his foot now burned from being ignited with gasoline. Daniel flipped around and saw Austin’s face now drenched with blood. Bricks slid off Austin’s body as he lurched forward toward Daniel.
Daniel reached for a brick and with all the strength he had left launched himself toward Austin and smacked him in the head with the brick as hard as he could. The hand around Daniel’s foot went limp. Daniel scurried away, Kyle helping him to his feet.
Daniel hugged Kyle; his freshly cut palm smeared the back of Kyle’s shirt with blood. “Are you okay?” Kyle asked. “I tried to stop him. I tried.”
“I know,” Daniel said in a hoarse voice. He coughed again, a deep, raspy cough. The smoke definitely wasn’t helping. “Come on, let’s get Colby and get out of here.”
They moved away from the pile of bricks that covered Austin. As they took a few steps toward the trail they heard the bricks sliding once more. “You gotta be freakin’ kidding me,” Kyle said.
Daniel turned and saw Austin, his face a mask of dark red blood. Daniel watched as the older boy struggled to his feet. Austin’s legs gave out. He slumped onto his side. The bricks beneath him, the net tangled around his torso. Daniel could hear Austin’s labored breath.
Daniel had to confront him. This was his one chance. He took a step toward him but kept his distance. “I don’t want you to die,” Daniel said, he could hear sirens in the distance. “I know that’s what you wanted me to do, but I’m not like you and your friend. All I want to know is, why? Why would you do something like this? Why would you treat another person like this?” Daniel stared at him, waiting for an answer. Austin said nothing as his cold eyes looked into Daniel’s.
Daniel turned and walked back to Kyle, until he heard Austin speak.
“We just wanted to have a little fun,” a raspy-voiced Austin said, his breath more labored with each inhale and exhale.
Daniel shook his head. He could think of nothing to say in response. He and Kyle walked up the path toward the clearing.
“Hey!” Austin said. “You can’t leave me here. Hey!”
Daniel felt guilty for stranding the injured boy in black on the path, but each time he thought about helping him, he thought of the terror Austin and James had inflicted on him and Colby.
He couldn’t bring himself to help such a monster. He kept walking.
CHAPTER SEVENTY-FOUR
Austin watched as the two boys left him lying on the pathway. He was tangled in the net of one of his own traps. He knew from how his head felt that the bricks had fractured his skull. Blood drained from his puncture wounds. The one on his neck was bad enough, but the blonde kid had hit him with the piece of wood with the nails at least a dozen times all over his back.
He felt weak. He never felt weak.
He couldn’t let them escape.
Austin clamored to his feet again. The sudden shift of his body sent waves of dizziness through his skull. He faltered, could feel himself losing blood faster. The blood pumping and draining with ease. He lurched forward up the pathway, trying to remove the netting from his body, but it was useless.
He did his best to pick up speed, but when he started to move faster the blood flowed faster from his fresh wounds.
Without warning, his legs gave out and he fell to the ground. His head smacked a brick, the sharp pain followed by sudden darkness.
Then nothing.
CHAPTER SEVENTY-FIVE
Colby was shivering. The cold interior of the cement pipe along with the cooling air outside made it feel as if he were back in the tunnel he had been in for the past three days. He felt a tightness in his chest. It was suddenly hard for him to breathe.
Daniel and the other boy had been a gone a long time. He had no idea where he was, and he hoped that the two boys that helped him hide would come back. And hoped that they would take him for ice cream.
They had saved his life and he was sure that they wouldn’t just leave him.
That’s when he heard it. Footsteps approaching. He hugged his legs, closed his eyes, and placed his head on his knees.
“Colby,” it was Daniel’s voice echoing in the pipe. He looked up, relieved. Daniel held out his hand toward him. “Come on, pal. Let’s get out of here.”
Colby crawled out of the pipe as fast as he could and hugged Daniel. “You came back!”
“You bet, pal,” Daniel said with a smile. “Now, let’s get you home to your dad.”
Kyle straddled his bike. He was relieved that his bike hadn’t been burned in the fire. “Hop on the seat and grab my waist,” Kyle told Daniel. “Colby can sit on the front on the handlebars.” It was a crazy plan, but he didn’t want Daniel to pass out while riding one of the other bikes and he knew Colby was too small for any of them.
As everyone got into position on Kyle’s bike, Kyle could hear sirens approaching. They all agreed that getting to Megan’s house was the best thing for them right now. “I’ll go as fast as I can, but if you need to stop let me know.”
Kyle started to pedal in the direction of Megan’s house.
CHAPTER SEVENTY-SIX
Ten minutes later, Kyle, Daniel, and Colby arrived in Megan’s driveway; the silver Mercedes still in the driveway.
Kyle waited as Daniel climbed off the bike and helped Colby down. Kyle then hopped off and headed toward the front door. He didn’t care what time it was. He knew they all needed help, and Megan’s dad was their best bet.
He pounded on the front door and rang the doorbell. Daniel and Colby joined him. The blurry image of a tall man appeared in the frosted glass of the front door. The door opened to reveal the burly doctor in a t-shirt and sweats.
As Kyle opened his mouth to speak, he saw Daniel go limp beside him. He caught his friend a few inches before his head would have hit the ground.
“What happened to him?” Dr. Walters asked Kyle. Megan’s dad held Daniel’s limp body in his strong arms as he placed the boy on the carpet in the living room.
“He was kidnapped by two older boys,” Kyle said. “His foot’s all messed up.”
Dr. Walters spied Colby standing next to Kyle, looked at his legs. “My, God,” he said.
“This is Colby,” Kyle said.
“The boy from the news?” Dr. Walters asked.
Kyle nodded.
As Dr. Walters examined Daniel, Kyle heard noises from the floor above, then footsteps on the stairs.
Megan and her mother joined Kyle, Daniel, Colby, and Dr. Walters. “Call an ambulance, Jenny,” Dr. Walters said. Megan’s mom hurried to the phone.
Kyle and Megan stood next to each other as they watched her father continue to examine Daniel.
“He’s lost a lot of blood. What’s his name?” Dr. Walters asked.
“Daniel,” Kyle and Megan said together.
“Daniel? Daniel?” Dr. Walters took hold of Daniel’s hand. “If you can hear me, squeeze my hand.”
No response.
Colby kneeled next to Daniel’s head. “Wake up, Daniel,” Colby said, tears in his eyes. “Please, wake up.”
Kyle watched as Daniel’s hand closed onto Dr. Walters’s. Kyle smiled with relief. “He’s okay.”
“The ambulance is coming,” Megan’s mom said as she returned. “Kyle, do you need to call your parents?”
Kyle nodded, left the living room and entered Megan’s large kitchen. He grabbed the cordless phone and dialed.
“Hello?”
“Dad! It’s me, Kyle.”
“It’s Kyle,” he heard his dad say to someone in the room. He heard several female voices at once. “Where are you?”
“I’m at Megan Walters’s ho
use. Daniel was kidnapped. He’s safe now. Daniel saved Colby Emerson, that kid who was taken from the park, too. The ambulance is on its way.”
“So are we. Stay put. I’m glad you’re okay, son.”
“Me, too.” He hung up the phone, returned to the living room with the phone. Kyle could hear the sound of an ambulance siren in the distance. “Colby?” Kyle asked. Do you know your home phone number?
The boy recited it from memory as Kyle dialed and handed Colby the phone. “Hi, daddy!”
“Kyle,” Megan said. “You saved Daniel’s life. Saved two lives. You’re a hero.”
Again, Kyle found himself in an awkward position. He wasn’t sure how to respond. He looked over at Megan’s dad who nodded in agreement with his daughter.
Instead of speaking, Kyle nodded, and said a little prayer for his best friend.
The nightmare was over.
CHAPTER SEVENTY-SEVEN
Beep. Beep. Beep.
Daniel’s eyes opened and scanned the dimly lit hospital room. His eyelids felt as if they had weights hanging from them. His brain felt fuzzy, like he had just woken up from a deep sleep.
The ticking clock on the white wall across from his bed read it was almost four in the morning. The TV was off; the only sounds in the room were from the machines beside his bed and the clock’s endless ticking.
He was tucked into his hospital bed under warm, crisp white sheets, with the exception of his injured foot that peeked out from underneath the covers at the foot of the bed. It was heavily bandaged. He felt no pain, but figured he had some pretty strong painkillers pumping through him at the moment.
