The Ties That Bind (41 page)

"Nes--" River started.

I smacked him on the arm, preventing him from tipping either Monroe or Surano off, if they were in the truck.

"Ow."

"No names," I said in a voice just loud enough for him to hear.

"Anybody?" He called.

Another groan, this one louder.

I clenched my jaw and glanced back at Sage, who was silhouetted in the headlights of River's truck, watching.
Please don't let anything else happen
, I thought. I re-focused on the truck and River and I walked toward our right so that I could shine the flashlight into the cab. The beam picked up what looked like a crumpled heap of clothing in what would have been the passenger side, except now it was lying on top of the passenger side window, given the position of the truck.

The clothing moved and I suppressed an urge to run. And then the clothing grew a head. Or rather, the person wearing the clothes moved a little and in the flashlight's beam, I recognized the yellow tee. Surano. I shined the flashlight on the truck's steering wheel. No driver. Maybe Surano had been the driver and he wasn't wearing a seatbelt. No sign of Nestor, either.

"Hey," I said, moving a little closer, ignoring the growing urge I had to pee. And flee. Kara called it the "pee and flee response." I had it now. In spades. "Can you hear me?"

Surano groaned. "I'm hurt," he said.

"Can you move?" River pushed past me and squatted outside the windshield, trying to get a better look at Surano's position.

He groaned again and untangled his arms. Blood smeared his forehead and splotched his shirt. Not a good day for Mr. Surano.

"Does the truck have a back slider window?" River asked me.

"I think so..." I checked anyway, in case my memory was off. "Yeah."

"We can bring him out that way." River handed me his rifle and assessed the back window. "It's open," he said aloud.

I tried not to freak out, the smooth wood of the gun's stock in my palm. I held it by the butt end, my right fingers looped through the cocking lever and I had it pointing at the ground, which only made me feel marginally better. Had River cocked it? Jesus, I hoped the safety was on. My stomach lurched and I breathed through my mouth, positioning myself so I could shine the light on the window so River could see what he was doing. Why was it open? Would Monroe have been driving down this road with that window open? It was a new truck. He'd use air conditioning, and he wouldn't want Nestor yelling for help. Had Monroe been driving and bailed through the window?

River put his head and shoulders through the opening and tried to help Surano maneuver into a different position. Somebody else had to be in the truck with him when it crashed. My money was on Monroe, who seemed to have extricated himself and...and what? Where the hell did he go? Keeping the light trained on the back of the truck, I surveyed the darkness around the vehicle. And if he did get out, why would he keep quiet?

Carefully, and with a whole lot of grunting on Surano's part, River pulled him out the back window, his hands under Surano's arms, crossed over his chest.

"Shit," Surano swore. "Fuckin' hurts." River lowered him to the ground. They both rested a moment and I shined the light on Surano's chest, just underneath his left shoulder, where I suspected Tonya had shot him. The bloodstain on his shirt glistened. "Hit the goddamn windshield," he said, touching his forehead.

River stood and I handed the gun back to him, like it was a live snake.

"Thanks." Surano was sitting down, legs in front of him, leaning against the truck's cab. He tried to get up, winced, and settled back down. "Gotta get out of here," he managed. "Might need some help walking."

"Help's on the way," I said, not relishing the idea of Surano draped either on me or River. Or both of us.

"Still gotta get away from here," he insisted, trying to get up again. "Before it comes back."

It? I looked at River, but he was focused on Surano. "Was there somebody in the truck with you?" he asked.

"Yeah."

"Where'd they go?"

Surano braced himself on the cab and with a mighty effort, gained his feet. He stood now, but he still leaned against the truck. "Don't know."

"He's shocky," River suggested, sounding uncertain.

"Who was driving?" I pressed.

Surano touched the blood on his head again before responding. "Clint. Bastard. Left me with that...
thing
runnin' around out here. Ran us off the road. Fast fucker, that's for sure."

The hairs on the back of my neck stood up again, but I did not want to pursue any line of questioning that dealt with a fast
thing
running around in the desert. So instead, I asked, "Where's Clint?"

"Don't know. Doesn't matter. I'm not going out there to find him."

River adjusted the rifle's weight.

"That won't do much good against whatever it was back there." Surano pointed at the gun then slumped back against the truck.

"Against what?" I had another Very Bad Feeling.

"Fuckin'
thing
. Chased us..." his voice faltered. "Not feelin' so good. Fuckin' Clint."

River stepped closer until he was a foot from Surano. "Where's Nestor?"

"Back there." Surano gestured in the direction of the wash. Then he seemed to realize what River had said. "Wait. Who the fuck are you?" He glared at River and in the beam of the flashlight, Surano's face appeared downright malevolent all of a sudden. I looked around, even more nervous.

"What the hell did you do to Nestor?" River asked again as he took a step closer, and Surano drew himself up a bit.

"He's okay," he said, defensive. "We just wanted to scare him a little."

"Like what you did to Bill?"

"River." I grabbed his arm.

"What the fuck? Who are you?" Surano's tone had turned belligerent.

"I'm about to be your worst goddamn nightmare," River said in a tone that I'd never heard him use, and he shoved the barrel of his rifle under Surano's chin.

Holy shit.
"Hey--" I put my hand on River's forearm. "Don't." I turned, looking for Sage. Maybe she could calm him down. I couldn't see her, though. She must've been standing between the two vehicles on the road.

"Hey, hold on, man." Surano said through clenched teeth. "I swear, we just wanted to scare Nestor. He's back at the wash, probably on his way here now."

"Funny guy, aren't you, considering Nestor can't walk too well. What about Bill?" River must have pushed on the gun, because Surano's head moved back a little. "Just wanted to scare him, too?"

Surano didn't respond.

"River, knock it off," I said, this time with more force.

"Fuck that," he said between clenched teeth. "This asshole is the reason I'm here, the reason you're here, the reason we're all fucking here." He got right up in Surano's face. "You like hitting guys from behind? Big man, aren't you, when you're behind the wheel." He leveraged Surano harder. "You like running people off the road?"

"Don't know what you're talking about." He was staring straight up now.

"Not such a big man now." River's teeth were still clenched and in his tone, I heard years-old rage and frustration and childhood wounds torn open, and I knew that if I couldn't get him to stop this, River would be in as much trouble as Surano. "Not so big now, are you?" River asked softly, dangerously.

"C'mon, man. This is bullshit," Surano said, but he was straining to talk from the pressure of River's rifle barrel.

"Bullshit? Running people off the road is bullshit? I know that was you. Wanna know how?"

Surano's head was all the way back now.

"River," I repeated, trying to stay calm. "Back off." The last thing we needed was River losing his temper and doing something really, really stupid.

He ignored me. "That was my sister's car, you son of a bitch."

Surano said something unintelligible.

"It's different, isn't it, when you're on the receiving end? Are you scared now? Like Bill was? Or Nestor?" River put more weight on the gun and Surano made a little noise that sounded like a squeak mixed with an exhalation.

"Enough." I didn't have any love for Surano, but I wasn't going to let River create more problems than we already had. "Simmons is going to be here any minute. Let her handle this."

River shook my arm off.

"Dammit, stop it." I gripped the barrel of the gun and pulled and as it cleared Surano's chin, he surged forward, knocking River off balance. I let go of the rifle just as Surano's left elbow caught me in the jaw, rattling my teeth and right eyeball. Pain shot through my skull as I staggered backward, dropping the flashlight. I thought I heard Sage yelling, but I wasn't sure. I tasted blood and hoped my teeth were intact.

The flashlight had fallen so that it pointed at Monroe's truck, casting enough light over the scene to lend it an extra eerie veneer. Surano and River were both standing, grappling for the rifle, pushing and pulling like a couple of bull elk, horns locked in battle, clouds of dust suspended in the flashlight's beam, their shadows shifting like demons on the truck's dark metal. Surano outweighed River by a good fifty pounds, and even injured, he was pretty strong. Plus, the realization that he'd been busted made for good incentive to try to kick somebody's ass, grab the gun, and bail. None of which were appealing scenarios. I had to help River. Head still swimming with pain, I did the one thing that entered my mind. I hurled myself onto Jimmy Surano's back and was immensely surprised when I stuck there. He grunted when my weight hit him but didn't release the rifle. I might as well have been a jacket, for all the impact I made.

"Get the hell out of here," River ordered, through his teeth.

I'd love to. Fat chance now, though.
I wasn't positioned correctly to pound on Surano's wounded pectoral where Tonya had shot him, so I instead grabbed his hair near his forehead and pulled. He howled and let go of the gun. Mission accomplished. Except now he focused on me. He gripped my hand in one meaty palm and squeezed. "Let go," he said menacingly. "Or I'll break your fuckin' hand."

He meant it. The bones in my fingers started screaming.

"Let go," he repeated.

"No,
you
let go," River said, and surprisingly, Surano released my hand. I slid off his back in relief and stumbled out of the way, River holding him at bay with his rifle. "Fuck," he muttered and the three of us stood staring at each other, panting. My jaw, head, and hand throbbed. I touched my lower lip. It felt like a couple of marbles had been shoved into it. My fingertips came away with blood.

"K.C.--" Sage was at my side. "Oh, my god. What are you doing?"

"Not sure," I said, and whatever else I was going to offer froze in my mouth as a long scream split the desert air, a cross between a wild animal and a man in pain. Every hair on my body tried to run, but my body itself remained in place. Nobody moved or spoke for a few seconds, not even to pick up the flashlight. Kara was closest, but she, too, remained immobile. Whatever had made the sound, it wasn't very far away. Past the overturned truck, out there in the desert. Maybe it was Monroe, I thought, going through the possibilities and avoiding the memory of a strange, feral human-like creature dressed in jeans and a light-colored shirt. Maybe Monroe fell on a cactus out there. I hope it hurt like hell.

Another sound, like someone running. Panting and footfalls on dirt, coming closer. River pointed the rifle at Surano and Kara picked up the flashlight. "Who's there?" River hollered, keeping his attention on Surano.

Kara stood near the rear of Monroe's truck with Sage, sweeping the desert with the flashlight's beam. "Monroe," she announced. Surano glanced at her. He must've been wondering how she knew his name.

"Get down," River commanded Surano, who laced his fingers behind his head but did nothing else.

A flash of red in my peripheral vision caught my attention. "Simmons is here," I said to nobody in particular. Surano turned and at the sight of the approaching vehicles, lights but no sirens, he deflated. "Give it up," he shouted into the night. "They're armed."

River started to say something in response, but thought better of it, maintaining his stony glare.

"Don't shoot," Monroe said as he materialized from the darkness. He was panting from exertion and his T-shirt was splotched with blood and dirt. He had his hands up. "I'm hurt."

"How bad?" Sage asked, like she was going to perform surgery on him right there. Or maybe she just wanted to know so she could torture him later. My head hurt and I closed my eyes.

"Don't know. Bashed up in the wreck..." he eased himself into a sitting position on the ground, back against the roof of his truck. "Some kind of animal out there," he continued. "Jumped me."

I opened my eyes and looked over at Sage. Her expression was inscrutable and she moved closer to me, placing her hand on my shoulder. For some reason, the feel of her palm seemed to ease the throbbing in my jaw and head.

Surano licked his lips and looked around, nervous. "What kind of animal?"

"Don't know. Didn't get a good look at it. Coyote, maybe." Monroe didn't sound convinced of that. He braced his elbows on his knees and held his head in his hands. "Pretty big, though. Never even heard it coming."

I leaned over again, my hands on my thighs. Would a skinwalker attack a group of people like this? Or would it just watch and do things to scare us? Damn, I thought. That must've been a good whack on the head, to make me assume it's a skinwalker. Sage tightened her grip on my shoulder just as Simmons approached, carrying her own flashlight.

"Looks like I missed all the excitement," she said. "Clint Monroe, I presume?"

He nodded.

"James Surano?" she looked at him in turn, but he didn't respond. She half-shrugged. "We'll find out soon enough." She stopped a couple feet from River, her demeanor expectant but patient. He lowered his rifle and handed it to her. "Thanks," she said. "Ambulance'll be here in a bit." She directed the comment to all of us as a couple more police officers arrived, both male. "Mr
.
Monroe, where is Nestor Bodie?"