Those Girls

by Chevy Stevens

He was crossing the room now, going to the other side, opposite the door.

  “I’ll throw something,” Dani whispered into my ear. “When he shoots at it, shoot at him.” She felt around quietly on the floor. “Got something,” she breathed again into my ear. “Get ready.”

  She threw something to the left. Gavin’s shadow spun around, a loud crack as he took another shot. I aimed for his shadow, pulled the trigger, heard a yell, then the sounds of him falling, the clatter of crates being pulled down. I didn’t know how badly we’d hurt him, but we got to our feet and ran to the end of the warehouse, feeling our way for the door to the other storage room.

  “Here,” Dani said.

  We pushed open the door. Courtney’s small figure was curled on the floor, a lantern beside her. She was naked.

  Dani picked her up, gripping her under her arms, and dragged her to her feet. Courtney leaned against Dani, her arm over Dani’s shoulder, whimpering in pain.

  I grabbed Courtney’s dress off the floor and we ran toward the doorway out of the warehouse. Dani was still supporting Courtney’s weight, her arm wrapped tight around her waist, me leading the way, the gun against my shoulder.

  Where was Gavin? Had I killed him?

  We were in the hallway, moving fast for the door. Dani was breathing hard behind me. We got to the truck. I prayed the keys were still in it.

  Dani lifted Courtney into the passenger’s side. I kept the gun pointed at the exit, glancing around. Was he in the bushes? Could he circle behind us?

  Dani climbed in the driver’s side. “Get in, Jess!”

  I raced to the passenger side, jumped inside.

  The keys were still dangling from the ignition. Dani started the truck, turned on the headlights. Gavin came running out of the building, his shoulder soaked with blood. Brian was behind him.

  Dani threw the truck in reverse, backed up a few feet, then jammed it into gear and pounded on the gas as she spun it around, doing a one-eighty and almost hitting one of them. Brian clung to the side window. We were all screaming.

  I hit at his hands until he finally let go and fell to the ground.

  * * *

  We raced down the dirt road, gravel shooting out from behind us, the truck fishtailing on corners.

  “I don’t know which way to go!” Dani yelled. “I don’t know where we are.”

  “Just keep going until we get to a house,” I said.

  “We can’t go to a house. We can’t get help,” she said.

  “I don’t want to see anyone!” Courtney was finally talking—and crying hysterically. “I don’t want anyone to know,” she said between sobs. “No one can know.” She yanked the dress out of my hands and pulled it down over her head.

  “The police will want our names,” Dani said. “They’ll figure out who we are.” We all knew what might happen after that. I thought of Dad’s body under the pigs, his truck in the quarry.

  “But they’re going to get away with it,” I said.

  “I don’t want anyone to know,” Courtney insisted again.

  “What are we going to do?” I was frantic with fear, desperate to get far away from Brian and Gavin. “We can’t take their truck into town. People will recognize it. Can we just drive it to Vancouver?”

  Dani glanced down at the gauges. “The assholes are almost out of gas.”

  “Should we try to steal another truck?” I said.

  “That’ll just send the cops after us. We need to get our truck back.”

  “From the garage?” I said.

  “Yeah, we’ll ditch this truck in town—it’s late, not many people will be out on the streets. We can leave it at the bar, then we’ll steal ours back. We have the shop keys. They said our truck was fixed—and we know it’s got gas. Our rifle is probably still under the seat or they would’ve bragged about finding it.”

  “They might’ve been lying—they could’ve gotten rid of the truck,” I said.

  “No, I’m betting they kept it.”

  A souvenir.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  We followed the road for a while, unsure if we were heading away from town or closer.

  “What if we’re going the wrong way and they’re already in town?” I said.

  “They’re hurt. They have to come up with a plan too.”

  “They might say we attacked them—that we stole their stuff.”

  “They don’t want the cops asking questions either,” Dani said.

  I glanced over at Courtney, who hadn’t said anything since we’d escaped. She was staring out the window. Once in a while she would look over her shoulder at the road behind us. I grabbed her hand and held it, but hers felt limp.

  Finally we started seeing houses, then we crossed a bridge. The tires hummed on the surface.

  “That sounds familiar. I think we crossed over this bridge that night!”

  “Yeah, you’re right,” Dani said.

  “We’re almost there, Courtney,” I said. “We made it.”

  She met my eyes, but hers looked hollow, defeated.

  In town, we slowed almost to a crawl. The clock on the radio in the truck said it was eleven. We hadn’t passed any other vehicles on the road, and there were just a few in front of the bar. I had no idea what day of the week it was. Dani circled the block and parked the truck behind the bar. Music and the scent of fried food carried out into the parking lot.

  We got out, careful not to slam our doors. I had to help Courtney down. I saw now that her ear was bloodied, like Gavin had bit it. I found a water bottle on the floor, and an old T-shirt. I wet the corner, wiped at the blood.

  Dani was in the back of the truck, trying to open the tool case behind the rear window. She was testing different keys on Brian’s key chain.

  “What are you doing?” I whispered. “We’ve got to go.”

  She finally opened the case, pulled out our packsacks, held them up.

  We crept through the dark alley to the shop. Dani rifled through the keys, opened it up. I held my breath, waiting for the loud peal of an alarm, but there was only silence. There was also only one truck pulled in the garage.

  “Shit. It’s not here,” Dani said.

  “It has to be.” I looked around, tugging at a tarp in the corner, excited for a moment. But it was covering an old car. “Maybe they have some gas. We could fill up their truck and at least get out of here.”

  We were checking a jerry can when the front door opened.

  I was still carrying Brian’s rifle and spun around, pointing it at the door. The man with the beard we’d seen the day we came through town was standing in the doorway. He was big, now that I saw him close up, his shoulders wide and his beard so long it touched his chest. He was wearing a baseball cap with a Harley insignia, and a Harley belt buckle pulled through faded jeans, a white T-shirt under a black leather vest. One of his forearms was scarred badly, the skin pink and raised in big welts like he’d been burned at some point.

  When he saw me with the rifle, he put his hands up. He looked at us one by one, took it all in.

  “You girls okay?” His voice was gruff, like a smoker’s.

  Dani stepped forward, pushed the gun down so it pointed at the floor. I hung on for a moment, but she shot me a look. I relaxed my arms.

  “We don’t want any trouble,” she said, “just want what’s ours.”

  “You’re looking for your truck.”

  She didn’t say anything.

  “They have a yard out back,” he said. “Noticed the boys hiding a truck under a tarp a week ago. But it’s a locked yard—with a big dog.”

  I wanted to be brave and was angry when tears threatened. My voice thick, I said, “You going to turn us in?”

  He shook his head. He was looking at us slowly, the ill-fitting dresses, our bare feet and messy hair. His gaze lingered on Courtney’s face.

  “You sure you don’t want me to call some help? Looks like you’ve run into some trouble.”

  “No cops,” Dani said. “We just want t
o get out of here.”

  “Where you trying to go?”

  Dani looked like she was debating whether she should lie, but then she said, “Vancouver. We need food, clothes. Can you help us?”

  The man looked hesitant now, like he was thinking.

  Courtney raised her head, her voice breaking as she said, “Please help us.”

  * * *

  We followed him through a back door into the pub and up some stairs. I saw now that his hair was long and braided down the back, and tied at the end with leather. The music was loud, vibrating through air that smelled of grease, cigarette smoke, and stale beer. I pushed away images of Brian and Gavin. I didn’t want to be here, didn’t want to go into this man’s place, but we didn’t have any other options.

  His apartment was small but tidy. We sat in the living room, huddled together on the couch. I gripped the rifle across my knees, looked around at the black velvet landscape paintings, the wooden burl coffee table, the glass shelf full of model Harley-Davidsons. On the mantel over a rock fireplace a photo of a woman was carefully placed on a white doily. The woman had long hair, parted in the middle, and a big smile. She was sitting on the back of a Harley.

  “My name’s Allen,” he said, then paused, waiting for us to introduce ourselves. We were mute. “Okay, well, let me see about some clothes.”

  He disappeared into a back room and came out with a couple pairs of jeans and blouses he handed to Courtney and Dani.

  “My wife—she died a few years ago.” He passed me a pair of jeans, a T-shirt, a gray zip-up hoodie. “These are my son’s.”

  “Thanks,” I said.

  “I’ll see if I can find some shoes.” He came back with a couple pairs of old sneakers, scuffed, laces ratty, and some flip-flops that had also seen better days. “He wears them until they fall off.”

  He pointed out the bathroom, which was down the hall a little but still in view of the living room. Dani told me to go in first. I gave her the rifle, grabbed my packsack, then quickly changed and washed my face and hair. Next Dani went in with Courtney, handing me back the rifle. I waited outside the door, my packsack by my feet, the rifle gripped in my hands. I wondered if Gavin and Brian had another truck. If they were already back in town and looking for us.

  Allen was in the kitchen, opening a can of soup, watching me. His gaze drifted down, focused on my wrists, his forehead pulling together in a frown. For a brief moment his eyes flicked to the phone at the end of the counter.

  “You better not call anyone!” I said. I took a step toward him, glanced over my shoulder, but Courtney and Dani were still in the bathroom. I didn’t know what to do. My head felt light, my body shaky from fear and lack of food.

  He held out a hand. “Easy. I was just thinking the cops would want to know if the boys hurt you.”

  “You call them, and I’m going to have to hurt you.” I brandished the gun.

  “Nobody has to hurt anybody, okay?”

  Dani and Courtney came out of the bathroom. Their hair was damp. The clothes were baggy on them, but I was glad to see them out of the dresses.

  “What’s going on?” Dani rushed toward me.

  “He was going to call the cops.”

  “Why?” Dani said. “We told you. Nothing happened.”

  He looked at us. “Something happened.”

  “We won’t talk to them,” Dani said. “But those boys, they might hear that you made a call about them.” She gave him a look.

  The man stared at her, his hands still on the can of soup, weighing her words, then nodded.

  He motioned to the kitchen table. “Let’s talk about how we can get you girls out of town.”

  Courtney and Dani sat on one side, dumping their packsacks down by their feet. I stayed leaning against the wall where I could see their faces, the rifle still in my hands but pointed at the floor. The man got a pot out of a cupboard, dumped a couple cans of chicken noodle soup into it. My mouth watered. I wanted to eat it cold, wanted to run over and slurp it from the pot. I glanced at Dani’s face, noticed her staring at the stove. She looked away, slowly, her neck stiff.

  “It’s better if you girls leave your truck behind,” the man said.

  “We need it. We just have to drug the dog or something,” Dani said.

  “The garage, it’s got cameras out back.”

  “You didn’t tell us that before,” I said. The soup was boiling on the stove. The man stirred it, the aroma filling the air. My stomach grumbled.

  “Didn’t want to scare you. Brian’s uncle, he checks that camera all the time.”

  “Shit,” Dani said, gnawing on her nails.

  “When you don’t claim your truck, they’ll chop it up for parts. I don’t know where you came from or who you’re running from, but you took a chance driving it out here. Trucks need gas, trucks break down. If you leave it, it’s like you disappeared here.”

  Like we died here. I glanced at Courtney. She was holding her arms tight around her body, her eyes still vacant in that way that scared me.

  “How else are we going to get to Vancouver?” I said.

  “There’s a bus. First thing in the morning—”

  “We can’t stay here that long.” My voice was frantic.

  He looked thoughtful. “My son can drive you to Armstrong tonight. You can get on the bus there.”

  “We don’t have any money,” Dani said, her chin high.

  “I’ll help you. Do you have any family where you’re going?”

  Dani shook her head. “No one.”

  “So what are you going to do?” He pulled some bowls down out of the cupboard.

  “We’ll live on the streets or a shelter or something,” she said.

  He looked over his shoulder at us. “Three girls alone on the streets of Vancouver.… That’s just asking for trouble.”

  “We’re already in trouble,” she said.

  He nodded, looked like he was thinking something over.

  “I have an old friend.… He has a gym, works with teenagers from the streets. He might be able to find you a place to stay.”

  Dani looked at Courtney, who was staring down at the table, then over to me. I shook my head, frowning. She looked back at Courtney, then turned to the man.

  “Can you call him? We’d appreciate it.”

  “We don’t need anyone,” I said. “We can figure it out on our own.”

  Dani glared at me. “Shut up and let me handle this.”

  “We should get a say in this too!”

  “Why don’t you girls talk it over?” the man said.

  Dani and I glanced at Courtney.

  “I’ll watch her,” he said. “You can use my son’s room.” He pointed toward the back of the apartment.

  I grabbed the cordless, giving the guy a look, making it clear I didn’t trust him. Dani and I went into a back bedroom with hockey flags on the wall, posters from bands, a couple of carvings on his desk. His bed was tidy, his clothes folded neatly, books stacked everywhere.

  “We can get our truck back,” I whispered to Dani. “By the time Brian’s uncle checks the cameras, we could be in Vancouver.”

  “We still have to get past the dog—and he’s right. For all we know, the cops are already looking for our truck. We should’ve left town a week ago.”

  “What about our rifle?”

  “We just have to hope if the guys find it, they get rid of it.”

  “We don’t know anything about this guy’s friend.”

  “We don’t know anything about him either. We don’t have any other options. Hitchhiking is too dangerous—they might find us.”

  I tried to think of some other way we could get out of town on our own, but before I could say anything, Dani had grabbed the phone out of my hand and opened the door.

  “He’s our only hope, Jess.”

  Courtney was slumped in her chair, staring at the floor. The man reached across the table to set down a bag of crackers, and she flinched. He moved to the other side of the ro
om.

  “Like we said,” Dani said, giving me a look, “we’d appreciate if you called your friend.” She handed him the phone and sat down.

  “I’d have to dig up his number,” he said. “Been a long time, but I can give it a try.” He carried two bowls of soup over to the table, handed the girls some spoons. Then he looked at me. “You want to sit down?”

  Dani shot me another look.

  I sat at the other side of the table, worried he’d sit beside me, but he just pushed a bowl in front of me, then stood at the counter. I dug in, slurping at the soup, digging my spoon in so fast some of it splashed out.

  “Go easy,” he said. “Might upset your stomach.”

  He’d said it kindly, and I tried to slow down. Courtney was spooning hers in pretty fast but methodically, spoonful after spoonful, like a robot. Dani was eating calmly, her hand steady as she dipped the spoon in and brought another mouthful to her lips. But I saw the look in her eyes, the relief.

  Allen opened a drawer and rummaged around. He brought out an address book and flipped through it, muttering. Then stopped and turned around.

  “Got the number. I’ll give him a call now.”

  Dani nodded. “Thanks.”

  He picked up the cordless phone at the end of the counter, turning toward us as though he sensed we needed to see his face. I kept my hand near the rifle I’d rested by my legs. If I got the feeling he was calling the cops, I didn’t know what I’d do, but I wanted to be ready.

  The phone seemed to ring awhile. Then finally the man said, “Patrick, sorry for waking you. It’s Allen.…” He paused, listening. “Just fine. How you been…?” Another pause. “Listen, I got some girls here, they’ve run into some trouble.” He glanced at us. “Big trouble. We’re going to put them on the bus in the morning. Can you meet them? They need a place to stay.… Thanks, buddy. We’ll talk soon, go for a ride, hey?” He said good night and hung up.

  “He’s going to help?” Dani said, her face hopeful.

  “Yeah, he’ll pick you up, get you somewhere safe.”

  Dani’s body relaxed in the chair. I felt mad at her, pissed that she was putting us at risk again. She gave me a look across the table.

  “It’s better for Courtney,” she said.