Page 31

Special Agent Fallon Baxter

The world swims back into focus, a blurry mess of darkness and confusion.

“What?” I moan as my eyes struggle to open.

My head throbs with a piercing ache, and then I remember it’s the aftermath of the sharp object that greeted my temple.

A gasp evicts from me.

My eyes spring open as I struggle to see.

Darkness surrounds me.

I’m moving; it’s moving.

It takes less than a second to register that I’m in the trunk of a car.

Panic seizes me as I realize my hands are zip-tied behind my back, the plastic biting into my skin.

With a surge of desperation, I contort my body, managing to slip my bound hands beneath my feet and bringing them to the front. It’s a small victory, but it grants me a sliver of control in a situation that’s spiraled way the hell out of my grasp.

The car hits a bump and my body jumps hard, causing me to groan.

The confines of the trunk feel like a coffin, suffocating with the air tinged with the scent of metal and gasoline.

I rub my elbow against the left side of my ribs, only to discover my gun is missing.

It all comes back to me. The reunion. Chasing down Vanessa. Standing in front of the car she was about to jump into, and then the building blowing up, then the whack to the side of my head.

I’m shocked she didn’t leave me there to die.

Why would she take me?

It was one heck of a spontaneous decision on her part, I’ll give her that.

I’m guessing she had the zip ties handy. And tossing me into the trunk was no easy feat, but a good adrenaline rush could move a mountain. And perhaps cause you to kidnap someone and then go out and kill someone else in the same afternoon.

A thought comes to me.

I must be leverage of some kind.

I shake my head, still unable to piece together the logic. She confessed to everyone in that building, even if they had no idea what she was trying to say. Jack and I saw those poppies light up under the luminol as if they were hardwired to glow into the night.

There’s no doubt she’s guilty.

There is certainly no doubt she’s a killer.

I pat my cardigan down and there’s no sign of my phone either. I can only hope she has it with her in the front. Jack and Nikki can track me down that way. That is, if they’re looking for me at all.

That ball of fire comes back to mind and I squeeze my eyes shut.

This is all Erin’s fault.

I burn with anger at the thought. If my sister wasn’t selfish enough to run off, then I wouldn’t have joined the FBI, and I certainly wouldn’t be locked in the trunk of a car while a lunatic speeds me off to who knows where.

Our bumpy journey continues for another ten minutes or so before we stop abruptly, sending me rolling toward the front a few feet and landing my face into the felt interior.

The sound of a car door slams and then nothing.

It’s a waiting game now. Waiting for her to open the trunk. Waiting to see if my own gun will be aimed right at me. Waiting to see just how long Vanessa Copeland thinks I should live.

A dull laugh thumps through me. She has no idea who she’s messing with. A part of me died a long time ago along with my father, along with my sister who took it upon herself to turn into a ghost.

A decent spate of time has gone by, so I feel for the emergency release latch and the trunk springs open as if it were innocent of ever holding me hostage.

Unfortunately, not a lot of people know that since 2001 the release latch has been a mandatory staple in the trunk of every car. If the manufacturers would do more to educate the general public, then more tragedies could be averted. Brittney might have had a fighting chance at an escape for all we know.

The cool night air welcomes me and I look past the pines to see the dark tapestry of the night sky, speckled with a plethora of stars.

Wherever we are, we’re nowhere near city life. The stars don’t shine this bright in Pine Ridge Falls either and that’s saying a lot.

I tumble out onto the ground, taking a moment to feel the cool earth as I assess my surroundings.

The woods.

No signs of life.

No signs of anything, save for the silhouette of the cabin before me. Its shape looks ominous in the night, and yet I know deep down that there’s a chance Brittney might be in there someplace.

It’s a two-story wonder of a log cabin. It has a luxurious feel even from this foreboding vantage point. I glance down to the left and a chill runs down my spine as I notice the boarded-up basement windows. And just like that, it confirms my fears.

I place my hands on the ground and try to separate them out as much as possible before stepping onto the plastic binding them together until I hear a satisfying snap as it breaks in two.

My wrists are raw, but I quickly rub the feeling out of them as I try to find the best entry point into that hellhole.

My gun is usually my lifeline in situations like these, but Vanessa decided to throw an obstacle my way.

Challenge accepted.

Adrenaline courses through me as I make my way toward the cabin with every step cautious and measured.

The night is oddly silent, and it’s the kind of silence that has the power to suffocate you, broken up only by the occasional rustle of leaves or the distant call of an owl.

My heart hammers against my chest as I slink onto the porch, adhere my body to the wall, and peer in through the window.

The lights are on.

The living room is quaint and cozy, no signs of life, so I try the door and, sure enough, it’s unlocked.

I let myself in and proceed with caution, hoping against hope there’s not a dog around to give away my presence.

Buddy comes to mind. Buddy who was lucky enough to stay home and watch animals running wild on television while I sauntered off to a slaughter with a true beast.

Lucky me.

But then again, the fact I run toward a slaughter is the reason we’re keeping the lights on and his kibble bowl brimming with goodness.

The sound of shouting comes from below and I quickly locate a set of stairs near the kitchen and head on down.

“You should have seen their faces,” a female riots. “It was a thing of beauty. For a second, I thought I might just die along with them. It seemed almost poetic. But the winds of fortune were blowing my way and I made it back to you. I can finally finish you off just the way I dreamed. It’s time to close your eyes forever, Brittney. It’s time for you to join your friends, the other rats. Say hello to Robin and Sophie for me.”

It’s dimly lit in the room. Most of the light seems to be flooding from one location near the floor, a nightlight I’m guessing.

I peer in just in time to see the faint image of Vanessa pointing a gun at a woman shivering on a bed and I leap onto Vanessa’s back as the gun goes off with a blast.