Truck Stop (13 page)

Kat’s mind raced as her eyes took in the creations all around her. She was thinking about this too rationally. There couldn’t be a reason any sane, thinking mind could ascribe to it. His disconnect with reality had to be so far afield that she could never begin to comprehend. No. It was madness. Not art. It was not understandable. It was mutilation and insanity.

The time Kat and Roger remained frozen felt like an eternity. But, in fact, it had been only seconds. Kat’s thoughts had raced so quickly, she had lost track.

Roger had moved up to the edge of the door, and he was now holding the wrench up high, waiting to make a desperate attempt at clubbing Kincaid if he came through that door.

Then, as if the monster instinctively knew there was a threat awaiting him, the shadow on the other side of the door crack moved away. They heard his footsteps retreat back into the garage.

Roger lowered the wrench. “Let’s get out of here,” he whispered as he pushed past Kat, who remained frozen and near shock.

He squinted down into the darkness below the window and could barely make out a toolbox. He carefully placed his foot on it, tested it, and then stepped up onto it. He quietly opened the latch at the bottom of the window frame and pushed outward. Thunk! The frame hit something.

Roger wiped away the heavy film of dirt on the glass and revealed the reason: There were metal bars on the outside of the window.

“Shit,” Roger whispered. They were stuck. No way out.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Kat sank to her knees in the corner, trembling, tears welling in her eyes. “We’re dead. We’re dead,” she whispered shakily.

Roger turned and saw the broken and vulnerable woman as she wrapped her arms around her legs and pulled them close to herself. He felt everything she was feeling; there wasn’t a way out of this that he could see, but he knew it wouldn’t do anyone any good to give up.

He crossed over, kneeled down next to her. “No, it’s not over yet. We’ll get out.”

They sat a moment in silence, and Kat rested her head on his shoulder. Roger felt her against him, and he reached out and put his arm around her.

Kat took a trembling breath as tears spilled over and ran down her cheeks. “Where the fuck are we going to go? He knows we didn’t leave. It’s only a matter of time before he comes back here. He’ll find us. He’s going to kill us.”

Roger looked down at the heavy wrench in his hand. “Not without a fight.”

“Against a shotgun? He’s got a fucking shotgun.”

Roger didn’t have an answer to that. He pulled her a little closer, and they settled into silence again.

Kat wiped her eyes, took a deep breath, and stared off into the darkness, avoiding the grisly sculptures that filled the room. How had she gotten here? She tried to trace everything that had happened, looking for the answer, and trying to find someone to blame. But there was no one. She had been working all this time with this hell all around her. Roger had only discovered it. In the end, Kincaid would have probably come for her the way he had for her mother.

Her mother.

The guilt Kat felt for being so angry at her mother for leaving again, when, in fact, she had been so brutally murdered, ate away at Kat; it was worse than knowing she now faced certain death.

Kat spoke softly, breaking the silence. “Did you see her? Did you see my mother when you went over?”

Roger looked down at her searching, desperate eyes. He could tell she needed something to hold onto right now. And he was willing to do anything he could to ease her pain. So he lied.

“Yeah. I did.”

A sad smile appeared on Kat’s tear-streaked face and Roger could see that his lie was a comfort to her. “She wanted to tell you that she was sorry,” he continued. “She wanted you to know she didn’t just leave you again. She wanted you to know she…” Roger paused, swallowed dryly, and added, “She wanted you to know she loved you very much.”

Kat closed her eyes, letting his words touch her deeply. “I always knew it. I mean I just…I don’t know, I just felt it. Even after she left the second time, somehow I knew there had to be a reason.”

Roger looked down at the fragile woman in his arms and knew he had said the right thing. But he also knew she wasn’t lying to herself. She probably had felt those things from her mother; it was entirely possible that her mother had reached out to her from the other side.

Roger had met several other sensitives in his life, some stronger than others, but he also realized that most people had the ability to feel things from the other side if they allowed themselves.

They sat for another moment without saying anything. But the very reason they could sit there in the darkness as the minutes ticked by was starting to make Roger restless. Was this going to be how it ended for them? Were they going to sit here until Kincaid came back and found them? There had to be a way they wouldn’t both die.

Roger’s thoughts started to magnify themselves along with a newfound anger. He found himself shaking his head. “I’m not going to do this,” he said.

Kat looked over at him, not understanding.

Roger felt his resolve solidifying. “I’m not going to sit here and wait for him.” He pulled away from Kat. “One way or another, I’m going out there.” He got to his feet and looked back down at her. “Stay here. If you hear something, run. I’ll do what I can to distract him.”

Kat wiped her eyes as she looked up at Roger. She knew what he was suggesting; he was willing to sacrifice himself so that she could escape. But there was no way she was going to let him.

“No,” she said firmly. “I don’t want to stay here alone.”

She meant it. She would rather die trying to escape with him than have him leave her alone to fend for herself.

But Roger pushed his point. “Kat, as long as he’s busy with me, you might have a chance.”

“I don’t care. I don’t want to be here alone. I’m going with you.”

Roger looked down at her and saw the determination on her frightened face; he knew he wouldn’t be able to change her mind. And he was right.

Moments later, the storeroom door opened a crack. Roger carefully peered out. The garage was silent. There was no sign of Kincaid.

Roger opened the door a little further and stepped out, brandishing the heavy wrench. He looked back at Kat and signaled. She came out behind him.

“I don’t see him,” Roger whispered.

They both scanned the dark maze of shadows between them and the open front door. A glimmer of hope. Maybe they would be okay after all.

“Let’s get out before he comes back,” Kat whispered urgently, and nudged Roger.

They started tentatively toward the open door across the large garage. They reached the repair bay and carefully crept around the side to the dangling engine-hoist chains. Roger looked back at Kat and pointed out the chains so that she would be careful not to disturb them. Kat nodded silently, and Roger squeezed carefully around them.

Kat started to follow him, and her foot slipped on the oily floor. She recoiled to catch her balance, and her arm brushed against the chains. They rattled as they swayed back and forth.

They both froze in their tracks.

Roger frantically searched the shadows around them. The garage remained quiet. No sign of Kincaid.

Another lucky break. They pressed onward. The open door was straight in front of them now, about ten yards away. They picked up their pace. Seven yards to go… then six… five… four… then it was just a few steps, and they were there. Roger paused and carefully peered outside.

The dark truck stop was quiet. There was no sign of anyone. Roger adjusted his angle so that he could see around the side of the main building to the parking lot. They had a clear path all the way to his car at the front of the diner.

Roger allowed himself to feel a glimmer of hope. They were close now. The end was in sight.

He turned back to Kat, and that was when the shadows came alive behind her. Kincaid stepped out and leveled his shotgun at them.

Roger tackled Kat. BOOM! The shotgun blasted over their heads.

They tumbled back into the garage. Kincaid racked his gun again and cut in front of the open door, blocking their escape.

“Kat! Up! Get up!” Roger yelled as he dragged Kat to her feet. They frantically stumbled back deeper into the garage.

Kincaid started after them, his shotgun leveled and ready. Roger and Kat pushed their way through the dangling hoist chains.

Kincaid took aim at Roger. It was close range, no way he could miss. Roger desperately hurled the heavy wrench at Kincaid. It glanced off his shoulder—BOOM! It was a wild shot.

Roger backed into the chains, looking frantically all around for any possible way out of this. Kincaid racked the shotgun again, bearing down on Roger. His finger moved to the trigger. Finally. The last, fatal shot.

In that split second, Roger saw a way out. He reached up, yanked the lock lever on the hoist chain, and it sprung free. The massive truck engine suspended above plunged downward.

Kincaid leaped back, but not far enough to get out of the way of the heavy engine as it rattled downward. The massive motor crashed down on Kincaid’s leg, pinning him to the greasy floor. The shotgun clattered into the bottom of the repair pit.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

The loud noise echoed into silence. Roger and Kat took a moment to assess their new situation. Kincaid was trapped; the massive engine was lodged on his leg.

Roger reached down, retrieved the heavy wrench he had thrown at Kincaid, and staggered over to him.

“Where is she?” Roger said, catching his breath.

Kincaid grimaced in agony, blood pooled around his crushed leg. But Roger wasn’t going to sit around and wait for an answer; this was his show now. Roger reared back and kicked Kincaid hard in the ribs.

Kincaid coughed and spit up blood. “Wh…who?” He growled in pain.

“You know who. My daughter. You took her from my car.”

Kincaid shook his head “I…I didn’t.”

Roger kicked him hard again. “Don’t fuck with me. You saw her in my car when I got here. You waited until I went into the diner. Where the fuck is she?”

A strange, twisted smile crossed Kincaid’s bloody lips. He coughed, sputtered and started to laugh. “You…you’re crazier…than I am.”

Roger boiled over; he crushed his foot down onto Kincaid’s shoulder. “Tell me!”

Kincaid grimaced in pain and gasped, “Okay, okay. Just get this…engine off my…leg.”

“Not a fucking chance. Not until you tell me.”

Kincaid’s steely eyes shot a look up at Roger as he tried to catch his breath. “You…you really want to know?”

“Talk!”

Kincaid coughed, spit up more blood, and a crooked smile twisted his thin lips. “I…cut off her head, and then I…I fucked her skull.”

Kat gasped, horrified, and turned away. This was too much.

Kincaid continued, “Then I…I plowed through her little cunt with a…chainsaw.”

Roger trembled with rage, overwhelmed by the vile monster.

Kincaid’s eyes lit up, enjoying Roger’s hell; his gasping laughter swelled. “Finally, I…I tore her little titties off with pliers and took a shit all over her.”

Roger let out an enraged roar and slammed the heavy wrench down onto Kincaid’s shoulder. The demon bellowed in agony.

“Liar! She’s not dead! I know she’s not dead! I didn’t see her on the other side! I would have seen her!” Roger exploded.

Kincaid gasped for air, his breathing was ragged and shallow. “And…I told you I didn’t…see her either.” He shook his head. “Man, there was no one…in your…car when you got here.”

Roger glared down at the monster, and a dark determination overwhelmed him. “You want to play it this way? I can play it this way. I’ll do this all night until you….“

Then he heard it. A faint voice calling out from the distance. “Daddy! Daddy?”

Roger froze instantly. He stopped breathing. His heart stopped. He heard it again. A faint, small, far-away little voice. “Daddy! Where are you?”

Roger looked toward the open garage door. It was her.

“Lilly!” He dropped the wrench, looked over at Kat. “It’s her. It’s Lilly.” He bolted away.

“Roger! Wait!” Kat yelled after him, but he was already out the door.

Roger raced outside the garage and paused. He scanned the dark junkyard in the distance. “Lilly!”

“Daddy!” her little voice called back. Roger locked on the direction. It was coming from the parking lot in front.

“Lilly, where are you?”

“I’m here, Daddy. I’m here!”

Roger took off up the side of the truck stop and cut into the parking lot. He paused, catching his breath. There was no sign of her. “Honey! Where are you?”

“Daddy!” she called back. Then he zeroed in on the direction. It was coming from inside his car.

Roger raced over, splashing through the mud puddles. “Oh God, Lilly.” He peered in the wet window on the passenger side.

Lilly was right there, under the blanket in back, her pink rabbit in her arms.

A flood of relief and joy overwhelmed Roger. He trembled ecstatically as he tried the door handle, but it was locked. “Open the door, honey. It’s me. I’m right here.”

“I can’t, Daddy, I can’t,” Lilly’s muffled little voice replied.

Roger frantically searched his pockets and dug out his keys. “It’s okay, it’s all right. Hold on. Just hold on.”

He flipped through the ring for his car key; his shaking fingers fumbled them. They splashed into the mud puddle below the door. “Shit!” he cursed.

Roger dropped to his knees and started frantically feeling for the keys under the murky water.

Kat appeared around the corner of the truck stop, out of breath. She saw him searching the mud puddle. “Roger?” she called out, puzzled.

Roger looked up at her, smiling. “She’s here! She’s in my car!”

Kat started toward Roger; this was all happening so fast it was hard for Kat to figure out what was going on. “What? What did you say?”

“She found her way back. Somehow she found her way back,” Roger explained.

Kat reached the car as Roger found his keys under the water. He yanked them out. “Got ‘em!”

Roger looked up at Kat triumphantly. Then everything went horribly wrong.

Kincaid was hobbling on a bleeding leg into the parking lot behind Kat; his shotgun was aimed and ready.

“NO!” Roger leaped up and shoved Kat out of the way just as….

BOOM!

The slug meant for Kat slammed into Roger’s chest. He plunged to the wet pavement.

“Roger!” Kat yelled, horrified.

Kincaid racked his shotgun, took aim at Kat.

BOOM BOOM BOOM! New gunfire erupted from somewhere else in the parking lot. The bullets pelted Kincaid. He crumpled to the ground, revealing two newly arrived policemen behind him. They moved in, covering him.

Kat crawled over to Roger. She reached down and cradled his head in her hands. Blood oozed from his chest. “Roger,” she said. “Roger, can you hear me?”

Roger looked up at her desperately. “She…she’s in the back seat. She’s there. Help her.” He weakly raised his hand, holding the keys.

Kat took them and hesitated.

“Get her out of there,” he insisted.

Kat lowered Roger’s head back to the ground. She pulled herself to her feet and turned to the car. She carefully slipped the key in the lock, gave it a turn and pulled open the door.

The back seat was empty except for a rumpled blanket.

Lilly wasn’t there.

Kat searched the front seat. Nothing. No sign of the little girl.

Kat turned back, kneeled at Roger’s side. “Roger? Roger, what did you see? There’s no one there. There’s no one in the car.”

Dear God, no. Roger felt a bleak darkness begin to swallow him up. Of all the times he had been cruelly tortured by his visions, this was the cruelest.

“Roger?” Kat could see Roger’s expression become distant and lost, and he didn’t answer her.

One of the policemen who had just arrived ran up, barking into his radio. “I need emergency services. Stat! I’ve got a gunshot wound to the chest.” He clicked off. “Ma’am. Are you all right?” he asked Kat.

Kat could only nod vaguely as she held Roger.

“This is Dalton, isn’t it? Roger Dalton?”

Kat nodded again “Yeah.”

The policeman pulled out a satellite phone and punched a number.

Zoe’s street in the aging tract home development in Las Vegas was lit up with the flickering lights from the emergency vehicles. There were several police cars, a forensics truck, an ambulance, and a morgue van. Uniformed police and detectives swarmed the walkway up to Zoe’s condo.

The evidence from the firefight inside the condo was everywhere. Bullet holes in the walls, shattered lamps and tables.

A homicide detective in his early 60s was on his satellite phone, talking to the policeman at Cedar Mountain Truck Stop. “Dalton? Are you sure? This is one weird fucking night. All right, it’s gonna take a while to sort all of this out. Anything changes, let me know.”

He punched off the phone and looked down at the bullet-riddled body of Roger’s ex-wife, Zoe. Next to her was Jack, her drug-dealing boyfriend.

But this wasn’t a fresh crime scene.

Both bodies were starting to smell and decay; they were pale, and the dark blood had pooled on the bottom of their torsos, arms and legs.

Another detective approached. “The condo next door is vacant,” he said to his colleague. “No one heard the shots. If we hadn’t come looking for the daughter, who knows how long before this would’ve been found.”

The detective looked down at Zoe’s boyfriend. “Jack Murphy, that piece of shit. Let’s hope this puts an end to the fucking drug war he started.”

The detective wasn’t surprised that he had found Jack this way—he knew it would happen some day. Jack had pissed off a lot of low level mobsters in Las Vegas.

A uniformed policeman called from the hallway. “Detective! We’ve got something else in here.”

The detective crossed to the hallway and approached an officer who was standing at an open bedroom door; the officer was pale and shaken.

“Oh, Jesus.” The detective stopped cold, choking back a reaction. He’d seen a lot through his years on the force, but things like this never got easier.

Lilly’s body was under the bloodstained bed covers.

The detective looked away, sickened. “Get forensics in here.”

The policeman nodded and started away. The detective hesitated a moment, then looked back into the room. The details. It was always the details of things like this that made it so hard. He could see Lilly’s little hand still clutching her favorite stuffed animal, its pink fur soaked with dried blood. The detective had bought one just like it for his granddaughter.

It was a popular toy, and it looked similar to the muddy remains that Roger had found in the junkyard; it was understandable how he had been mistaken.

The detective looked away again; he would read the forensics report and learn more than he ever wanted to learn about this little girl’s last moments on earth.

But he still wouldn’t know everything. He’d never know that two nights ago Lilly had waited for her daddy to come. She never got his message that he was going to be a couple of days late; her mother was too strung out to remember to tell her. Lilly had told Jimmie Jerry that her daddy was coming, and he would take her away from all this soon. It hadn’t been soon enough.

Lilly had just kissed Jimmie Jerry goodnight when she heard the arguing and the gunshots in the living room. She called out for her mother, but there was no answer. Before she could get out of bed, the man appeared in her doorway.

The last thing Lilly saw was the flash from the pistol barrel that took her life-.

The night
before
Roger arrived to pick her up.