Diesel Therapy (Selena Book 2)

by Greg Barth

  This was turning into a big fucking mess.

  Things had to have gone wrong after I left to take the girls. It didn’t make sense that he would have been arrested. There was no indication the trailer had been treated like a crime scene. Everything was the same except for the missing men and vehicles. No yellow crime scene tape around the place. The medical examiner hadn’t been there looking at the bodies. No grizzled homicide detectives in stylish sports jackets.

  It was as though everyone had just left. But where was Ragus?

  All I had to go on was Magnus. Whatever had happened to Ragus, Magnus would know. I clung to that fact. I felt it deep inside. Finding Magnus was the key to finding my friend.

  The morning air was chilly. I lit a cigarette and leaned against the car. What was it the girl had said?

  “You’re looking for Magnus? He’s on top of the flat mountain. With the goats. Him and Roman. In a place called Vee-Aye.”

  Flat Mountain. Goats. Roman. Vee-Aye. It made no sense.

  And yet... there was something there, in the back of my mind, something that was just out of reach.

  V.A. Veteran’s hospital? No, that couldn’t be right.

  Goats. A farm?

  Then all at once it made sense. V.A. Virginia. The flat mountain top was the state line. It was flat because it had once been a strip mine. It was a needle in a haystack, but it was a place to start.

  My mind just didn’t think of Virginia. When you’re on the side of the law I’m on most days, you don’t go to Virginia. It’s a rich state. They have a healthy state income tax. They have state troopers by the millions. You just don’t go there.

  You go to Tennessee. You go to Kentucky. You go to West Virginia. You don’t go to Virginia unless you want to be arrested and harassed.

  But that’s exactly where Magnus was.

  “Shit,” I said. “I fucking get it.”

  I got back in Ragus’s car and backed down the old road until I found a driveway I could turn around in.

  Back on the main road, I kept my foot heavy on the throttle. As I sped down the road, I knew where I’d start. The border between Eastern Kentucky and Southwest Virginia was long and mostly ran in a jagged line along remote ridgelines. But if anyone was going to visit my father with any frequency and live on a stripped off mountaintop on the Virginia side of the border, only one place I knew of made sense.

  The roads through that part of Kentucky wind along the feet of the mountains. This is the route that the river has taken for millennia. The railroad follows the river and was used to pull the coal out from the large shaft mines. I took the curves as fast as I dared, the centrifugal force shifting my body around in the car with each steep, fast turn. When I got close to the state line, I turned onto a side road that ascended the mountain in sharp switchbacks. I passed coal trucks by the dozens.

  I worried about Ragus as I drove. I wasn’t over the fact that he killed Henry, but he also took matters into his own hands when I couldn’t bring myself to deal with my father. In a way, him killing my dad was as much a kindness as anyone had ever done for me, including Henry. Granted, it was a different kind of kindness.

  Ragus somehow understood what I was trying to do even more than I did.

  I wound my way up the mountain, thinking about my rough, over-sized wine snob when the cop pulled up close behind me. I didn’t see him coming until he was right on my tail. I saw movement, checked the rearview, and there he was.

  Shit.

  I checked my speed. I wasn’t going too fast. My seatbelt wasn’t fastened, but I couldn’t imagine I’d get pulled over for that. The out of state tags shouldn’t matter either.

  I thought about pulling over and letting him pass, but that would only draw attention. I decided to keep moving and not do anything suspicious.

  It bothered me that he followed so closely.

  I had both hands on the wheel, foot soft on the accelerator, eyes on the yellow line, and heart pounding in my chest when the blue lights flashed behind me.

  Fuck.

  There was a wide patch of gravel on the outside of the curve ahead. I pulled over onto the shoulder and put the car in park.

  Think fast.

  I didn’t care about not having a license or getting arrested. Hell, I could even pass a sobriety test. What terrified me was the thought of winding up in handcuffs again. I wanted to cry.

  My bow and the 16 gauge were on the back seat.

  No. That would be a mistake.

  Just think, damn it!

  The clothes I took from the Marshal that night in the van were still on the passenger floor. I had pushed them under the seat, but the belt was sticking out.

  I reached over and pushed the belt under the seat. I heard a jingle and thought of the keys. Ragus had used the Marshal’s keys to free me from the handcuffs. I sat back up and checked the rearview. The deputy hadn’t left the car yet. I knew from experience that he’d be a minute running the plates.

  I leaned back over and fished out the pants. I found the key ring affixed to the belt. I rifled through them one by one until I found a small one that I recognized as the one he used to remove the cuffs. It was attached to a small spring clip. I removed the clip from the key ring and stuffed the pants back under the seat.

  I took the spring-clipped key and thought about where I could hide it. It would have to be behind me where my hands would be. Unless he cuffs me in front. What if he cuffs me in front? Think girl, when have you ever been cuffed in front while being arrested. You’re thinking of transport. You’re going to be arrested. He’ll cuff you in back.

  I reached around behind my back and stuffed my hand into my pants from behind. I was wearing the thick belt that Ragus got me. I affixed the spring clip to the thin elastic band around the waist of my panties. It would hang just inside my underwear at the center of my back. It should be secure under the thick leather belt.

  I hoped so anyway.

  I checked the mirror again. The deputy was stepping out of his cruiser.

  T HIRTY-SEVEN

  Rob

  ROB HEFTED THE cattle prod. “I’m going to light that fucker up,” he said. “Fucker pointed that rifle right in my face.”

  “That cattle prod works about as good as a stun gun on a human,” Roman said.

  “I’m going to fuck him up for sure.” Rob was a lean, young man. Natural blonde. He wore a Monster energy drink cap. He had hair down to his shoulders, a wispy mustache, and a lip full of Copenhagen smokeless tobacco. He spat into a styrofoam cup that he held in his hand.

  “You can even fuck him, you of a mind to,” Roman said.

  “I ain’t no queer,” Rob said.

  “That’s the beauty of it. He ain’t neither,” Roman said. “It’ll sure hurt ’im some, you stick it in his ass.”

  “Ain’t got no appetite for it. Couldn’t get it up.”

  “You just think about hurting him. Humiliating him. It’ll come up. You just trust me. Think about him putting that gun in your face. Think about hurting him in the most humiliating way you can. It’ll come up. You watch and see.”

  “I don’t rape nobody, you know that. Lest it’s a pretty girl and all.”

  Roman nodded but didn’t speak.

  “Fucker just shot Jim in the face. Him just waking up. Shot him in cold blood right there. I seen the whole thing.”

  “Well, I wasn’t there. We were late getting over to the party. Had we been there, Jim might still be with us now. “

  Rob spat into his cup. “I couldn’t rape him. I just couldn’t get my dick hard for another man’s ass, you know? I don’t even like a girl’s ass. Too dirty back there. But I could shock his testicles. Take that cattle prod to them. I could jam it up his ass.”

  Roman chuckled. “You’ll get a kick out of that. Once you get a good taste of anger and power, though, well, anything can happen.”

  “Just don’t push me to it, man. A guy does something like that—something that’s against nature—well, he should want t
o. Not be pushed into doing it. That’s all I’m sayin’.”

  “Whatever you want, Rob. There’s no pressure.”

  “Well, what are we fucking waiting on?” Rob spat into his cup and stood. He held the cattle prod out in front of him. “Can’t wait to see that fucker’s eyes when I jam this up his shit hole.”

  Roman stood as well. “Let’s go,” he said.

  They stepped through the door onto the deck, took the steps down to the ground, and followed the path through the field to the barn nearby.

  The Rottweiler ran out from the dog house and ran the length of his chain to watch them approach.

  They were within one hundred yards of the barn when Roman’s phone buzzed. He pulled the phone from his jacket pocket and checked the display. “Hang on,” he said. He tapped the screen to accept the call and pressed the phone to his ear. “Deputy,” he said. He listened for a few seconds. “Interesting,” he said. “She’s in the car in front of you? You sure it’s her? No? Well, fuck man, check that shit out. Would you recognize her? Fucking VCR? Hell yeah. Yeah, sure, be right there.” He pressed the display with his thumb and put the phone back into his jacket pocket.

  “Everything okay?” Rob said.

  “Yeah. Some interesting developments. Old man Carson’s little girl was just spotted coming up the mountain.”

  “No shit? Selena?”

  “Yeah. But you know Pop. He don’t have a phone. I’m going to walk back to the house and get him on the walkie. I’ll come back and he can meet us here. We can all welcome her together.”

  “Hot damn,” Rob said.

  “You want to have some fun with this guy, you’d better go ahead and do it now. When she gets here, she’s going to get all the attention. Sad to say, but this fucker won’t last long. Best get your licks in now.” Roman handed him the cattle prod. “You know how it works?”

  “Just like a stun gun, right?”

  “Yep. Just push and zap. Light the fucker’s balls up.” Roman pulled a .38 Smith and Wesson with a four-inch barrel from the back waistband of his pants. He handed the revolver to Rob.

  “Here, take this too, just in case. You never know with these guys what they might do when they get cornered. If you have to, you use it. Nobody’ll blame you.”

  Rob took the pistol.

  “Don’t kill him, though, unless you have to. Just wing him.”

  “Roger that,” Rob said.

  “And now I recommend that you do not fuck him.”

  “Why the change?”

  “Fuckin’ Selena’s coming, man! Save all your nut for that shit.”

  Rob spat on the ground. “Okay, if you say so.” He felt off the hook, and it was a relief. “Hell, I probably coulda done it, though.”

  “I’m not doubting your abilities. Five minutes. I’ll be back,” Roman said.

  They parted ways.

  Rob tucked the pistol in his pants pocket. He figured the cattle prod would be a lot more fun. He followed the path to the barn. He unlatched the large door and slid it open. The sun shone into the barn through the open door and illuminated the interior. He could just make out the large man in the center of the pit crouched next to the post he was tied to.

  Rob remembered what the gun barrel had looked like when pointed in his face. Like a large, black hole that wanted to swallow him up. He remembered the look in the man’s dark eyes as he looked up the barrel of the gun at him. He was like the devil himself. He remembered how it felt to shit his pants in the floor of Tom Carson’s trailer, how he’d begged for his life.

  He was going to show this son of a bitch exactly how that felt.

  Rob stepped inside. He walked over to the pit and descended the steps. He stopped out of reach of the large man. Rob studied him. The man was strong with muscular arms and a thick chest. His legs were large and covered in dark hair. The man looked disoriented. Probably a hangover from the stuff they’d used to subdue him the night before. His wavy hair was wild and hung to his shoulders in loose curls. The man had scars on one side of his face.

  “Morning,” Rob said.

  The man didn’t look up.

  “Room service,” Rob said. “You ready for breakfast, motherfucker?”

  The man said nothing.

  “Or are you still full from all the dick you got fed last night?” Rob chuckled.

  The man kept his head down, sat in a squat by the post. He held his forehead with one hand. Rob could see his balls hanging down between his legs.

  Rob stuck out the cattle prod. “I’ve got your alarm clock right here. Time to rise and shine.” Rob stepped forward.

  The man didn’t move.

  Rob wanted to hit him good with the cattle prod. Get him down on his back, then go to work on him the right way. Roman had been right. Rob felt a tingle of excitement. This was going to be fun. Rob stepped up close and drew back the cattle prod for a hard thrust.

  The man shifted. He remained in a crouch but grew taller somehow. Rob was amazed at how fast this giant could move.

  Rob took a step back, but realized too late that he’d gotten too close. He wished that the gun was in his hand instead of in his pants. He thrust forward with the cattle prod.

  The naked giant leaped high in the air. His large body spun around. It was a gravity-defying move. Rob saw the man’s black hair flip around, saw the whites of his eyes as the man spun into a flying roundhouse kick. Rob heard a crunch as the man’s foot connected with his nose. He felt his teeth tear through his lips. An explosion of pain ripped through the back of his neck as his head snapped back. The next thing Rob knew, the back of his head connected with the ground. He was lying in the dirt looking up at the roof.

  He felt for the cattle prod with his fingers, but he couldn’t find it. Still stunned from the kick, he tried to sit up. His neck hurt badly. The pain spread across the base of his skull. He raised his head a little and saw the giant standing over him. Rob saw the cattle prod in his handcuffed hands.

  What’s he going to do with that thing?

  Rob watched the two electrodes on the end of the cattle prod grow larger as they got closer to his face. Rob expected the man to stop, to threaten him, to question him, anything. The man didn’t stop. Rob watched in horror as the end of the prod grew larger until the electrodes made contact with his eye. The jolt of electricity traveled along his optical nerve and delivered its full charge directly into Rob’s brain.

  He felt nothing after that.

  T HIRTY-EIGHT

  Selena

  I WATCHED THE cop approach through my side view mirror. He looked young. He was tall, thin, wore a black jacket. As he got closer I saw that he had a sandy blonde mustache.

  I bit my lower lip. I tried to calm myself, but a sense of panic was spreading through my gut.

  I powered down my window and looked up at the deputy. He wore dark sunglasses and I couldn’t see his eyes.

  “Something wrong?” I said.

  “Let me see your license and proof of insurance,” he said.

  “Um, did I do something wrong? If I did, it was just a stupid mistake. I’ve got a clear record.”

  “License and proof of insurance.”

  I chewed at my lower lip, tried to think of something. All I could come up with was, “I don’t have either of them with me. I forgot to pick them up when I left this morning.”

  “Are you aware you have to have those with you at all times while driving a motor vehicle in this state?”

  “No... I mean, yeah. I guess so. I just forgot, you know? Stupid, huh?”

  “Most people keep proof of insurance in their car at all times. Makes it easier.”

  “I know, right? Stupid girl. That’s me.”

  “I see. Let’s start with your name then.”

  I swallowed. “Marie,” I said.

  “Marie what?”

  “Look, did I do something wrong, officer? Because, if I did, I’m sure I can do something to make it right. I have complete respect for the law. I always use my turn s
ignal. I never speed. I always wear my…. uh,” I looked down awkwardly. I was sounding like an idiot.

  “Is that your shotgun in the backseat?”

  “My grandfather’s. Nothing wrong with having a shotgun is there? Second amendment and all.”

  “No. Nothing wrong with that. Unless you’re a convicted felon. Are you a convicted felon, young lady?”

  “Not so much as a parking ticket.”

  “What brings you up the side of the mountain this morning Miss Marie?”

  “Just out for a drive.”

  “Just out for a drive? With your shotgun and your second amendment but no license.” He frowned and shook his head. “Nobody comes up this way.”

  I smiled. “Not true. See? I’m here, and you’re here. That’s something.”

  He didn’t respond. He stood there staring. I couldn’t see his eyes through his dark lenses, but I felt his stare.

  The long pause was uncomfortable. Before I recognized his tactic, my nerves got the best of me. To fill the awkward silence, I kept saying stupid things. “I’m looking for a friend of mine.”

  “Who’s your friend?”

  “A guy.”

  “This guy have a name?”

  “He’s not from around here.”

  “Mothers give names to sons even if they’re not from these parts. So I hear, anyway.”

  “You wouldn’t know him. He’s, uh... tall. Has longish black hair, going gray.”

  “Big guy?”

  “Well, don’t let him hear you call him big. He’d be all like, what do you mean by big? You mean big in a good way, and shit. Stuff. Sorry. I meant stuff.”

  “He’s a big guy?”

  “Yeah. Strong, tall, heavy.”

  “About six-four, three hundred pounds?”

  “You seen him?”

  “I can take you to him.”

  “Oh, that won’t be necessary. If you can just point the way, I’d be grateful. I’m sure you’re busy this morning.”