“Wait,” said Aaron. “Why head to the SUV if we can’t even unlock the door?”
I knew my answer would lead to more questions and none of us had the time, nor the blood sugar for it, so I replied without turning back. “Because I’m gonna go get the keys.”
Chapter 18
They went one way. I went the other. If you drew it in the dirt, you’d have a diagram that looked like a badly written V. Actually, a curvy V. Like a bird, sort of.
I didn’t want to turn around to look. I was denying finality, and looking back meant capturing a mental image that I couldn’t afford to fixate on.
But several minutes later I couldn’t stop myself.
They were a half mile away from me, my poor, slow-moving duo.
I teared up. I knew I would.
They put their entire trust in me and were doing the impossible. Against medical wisdom, and self-preserving instinct, they limped along.
I watched them disappear. And then I started bawling. Hard.
Suck up the tears, babe. No jeopardizing the mission now. I had my agenda and my work cut out for me.
The plan was to get to the SUV driver’s body. Hopefully they hadn’t moved it, hopefully his keys were still in his pocket. Get the keys and run like I have never run to get back.
It was still lying where he died, at the bottom of the grade, surrounded by the rocks that had ended his life. I felt horrible all over again, but was relieved to see that animals hadn’t found him—yet.
I had a tremendous, unintentional shiver as I patted his pockets, doing everything I could not to look at him, not to breathe in.
“Looking for these?”
My heart stopped.
Clay Hobson stood there, keys held out, jingling slightly.
I had to think. Fast. I stood up, held my hands up to show I meant no harm. “I’m just trying to get my daughter and get out of here. I know my husband did things! I know that now! I wanted the keys to drive me and my daughter to the police station!”
They stayed still. I expected more smooth talking from Clay, but he was simply standing there, staring at me.
It was the other guy who spoke first. Which was odd. He was odd. Agitated.
He turned to Clay and said, “She’s lying.” Then he turned to me and said, “You’re lying!” He aimed his rifle right at me.
But Clay chimed in. “Terrence!” I hoped, his way of saying don’t.
“Get on your knees!” he shouted at me, his rifle emphasizing his fury. He was thrusting it toward me, like a jab with an invisible bayonet. “On! Your! Knees!”
While Terrence kept his gun aimed, Clay made a show of slinging his rifle onto his back. I kept my hands halfway up. I absolutely did not want to provoke unnecessary bullets in my direction. No, thank you. My hands were going to remain very visible.
“Don’t shoot her, Terrence,” said Clay, calmly, authoritatively.
“Then tell her not to move.”
“Miranda?” said Clay. “Nice to meet you face-to-face. Please don’t move.”
“I won’t,” I said, beginning to kneel. “My husband is mortally wounded. I’m here to negotiate. In fact…” I cleared my throat. “I already have a proposition that you won’t want to refuse.”
“Liar!” said Terrence, who was clearly on edge.
“Relax, Terrence,” said Clay.
“I’m on your team, Miranda,” he said. “I’m willing to compromise in every way possible. But I need you to take me to Aaron first. That’s the only condition on my end.
“The reason is timing. We don’t have time,” Clay continued. “No, wait, let me rephrase that. Your husband doesn’t have time. As you said, he’s mortally wounded. I need him to be alive to fight the good fight. And you need him alive because he’s the father of your child.”
There was no way I could take Clay with me to Aaron. I’d be powerless if something went wrong.
“He needs a doctor,” I said.
“She doesn’t trust you, Clayton,” murmured Terrence.
“She’s a wise woman,” said Clay, looking directly at me. Talking about me while talking to me. “She needs me to convince her.”
He held his knife outward for me to see it. It looked like he was going to lay it down as a peace offering.
He raised his knife. He was behind Terrence, so it almost looked like he was going to poke him with it. For just a half second, I wondered if he would, a delirious thought. Because that would make no sense at all.
Yet that is exactly what he did.
Clay Hobson plunged his knife into the neck of his partner.
Chapter 19
Terrence slumped forward onto his knees. I didn’t move. I didn’t scream. All I could do was stare as a large stream of dark red liquid began to cascade down his chest, shining in the sunlight.
I was still down, so now the two of us were kneeling mere yards away, facing each other, like some sort of bizarre warrior ritual. The blade was lodged. As Terrence reached back to grab the handle, he found that he couldn’t even raise his arms. All he could do was look at me. Toward me.
Why?
Clay must have seen it on my face. Why did you stab your friend?
“To protect you,” answered Clay without my asking.
He stepped forward and withdrew the blade from Terrence’s neck. I was watching close, petrified. He looked up and held my gaze. Then he seemed to recognize my fear and tossed it on the ground, seemingly in demonstration of a truce.
“I never wanted it to come to this,” he said. He was about to bare his soul. I could feel it. “Sadly, these are the forces we’re up against.”
Exhibit A. He gestured toward Terrence’s body. Exhibit B. The body of the SUV driver. Exhibit C. The body floating down the river.
“Aaron and I…” he said. “We’re facing powers well beyond our control. I had to find the right moment. Terrence wanted to kill you, and I desperately needed to protect Aaron.”
I was trembling. “W-what
