“I’m still not sure this is a good idea,” I said.

Turning around, I hesitated to go over his statements to the press about the case. If it were me, I would have quit and kept it to myself.

What worried me was how influential these people were. If they were a piece of the justice system, I wondered how many others there were.

“I’m turning my statement in with the badge,” Marcus announced. “And then, I’m issuing my resignation.”

“Don’t do it, kid,” Theo said from the couch, eyes barely even open. Matthew was next to him, drooling on the armrest.

“Yeah, Marcus. What about your benefits? You’ve worked hard for those,” I said.

He glanced down, but his face remained firm. “This has to happen,” he said.

“Okay,” I said, giving in. “But you need to be careful. I need you safe.”

Marcus kissed me but quickly pulled away. A confused look twisted on his face. “Sawyer, there’s something I need to tell you.”

But just as I could register what he said, there was a series of knocks against the flat door, rising with velocity.

“What the fuck is going on?” Matthew jumped up and threw his hands in front of him.

“New York Police Department. Open up the door, sir.”

“Matthew,” I whispered. “Get into the pantry. Now.”

Matthew quickly followed orders. I kept the other two back as I looked through the peephole. Sure enough, officer Fulton stood in front of the door. He knocked three more times before I could open the door a crack.

“Sir, open the door. We have reason to believe you’re involved in the abduction of Matthew Mckinnon,” he said.

I didn’t let him through. I wouldn’t because I was innocent. “Abduction? You’re mistaken. My brother wasn’t abducted.”

“Sir, I have probable cause to gain entrance into the building. We saw you exit the household weeks ago via CTV security cameras,” he said.

I heard the pantry door slide open. My brother walked out with his hands over his head. “Matthew, what are you doing?” I asked.

“It’s the only way,” he said. Then, raising his voice to Fulton, he said, “I’m here. Come and get me.”

I turned around, but as soon as I registered the sight of the officer raising his knee into the air, he kicked the door open, knocking me to the floor.

Everything turned to black.

* * *

When I opened my eyes, I felt the searing pain shoot in the center of my forehead. “Fuck.” I blinked rapidly, trying to see where I was. Soon enough, I realized I was in a police car, headed somewhere way off target.

Officer Fulton stared at me through the rearview mirror. “Good. You’re awake,” he said. “You’ve been out for twenty minutes.”

A chill ran through my stomach when I saw the sign for the 95 freeway. Fulton merged onto it, headed away from the city. “This isn’t the right direction. Where are we going?” I said.

“Just a slight detour,” he murmured.

But as my senses crept back to me, I felt the rope behind my wrists, tied tight over my forearms. A pair handcuffs latched around the wrist. I was doubly fucked.

“Take me back,” I said.

Fulton remained silent as we drove further and further out of the way. My heart raced, and my brain searched for answers, but there were none to be found. The only thing I could do was try and get out of the handcuffs. If I could manage that, I could escape the ropes with ease.

Menacingly covering the moon, the dark purple clouds had already started to roll in, pining for rain. As we drove further, I looked out to the dark blue ocean. The quick ripples from the strong current were pulling a branch into the cold deep. Is that where I was going to die?

No, I wasn’t going to die here. I was going to figure a way out of this. I raised my feet into the air and started kicking at the door as hard as I could. Round after round, my feet slammed against the glass, but it didn’t budge.

Fulton swerved the car to the right and raised his handgun back at me. “Sit the fuck down,” he commanded.

“Or what? You’ll kill me in this car? That doesn’t seem like such a smart move,” I said.

“Have you ever taken a bullet in the leg? Hurts more than anything, but it won’t kill you if it doesn’t hit the artery,” he said.

I stopped struggling, but as he turned off of the freeway, I jerked my wrist to the left and right, hoping I could bend it enough to get it through. Of course, when I couldn’t, I felt the thread of fear take me under like a log floating into oblivion. There was nowhere to go, but down.

That’s when I felt the gravity of the situation sink in. He was taking me somewhere nobody would look for me. And once he found the right stretch of land, he’d gun me down.

We exited the freeway, and the first sign I saw said: “Pottersville.” Eerily, Fulton started to whistle an old show tune. Every so often, he’d turn back to get a good look at me, eyes always severe in nature.

“You killed those doctors,” I said. More silence filled the car, but I didn’t stop talking. I figured if I kept my voice going, maybe I could talk him down. “You did kill them, didn’t you?”

“We’re just going somewhere safe to talk,” he said.

We were a ways out and headed even closer to the woods. We were near North Hudson. Another sign read: “Schroon Lake.”

When I saw the vast body of water, I jerked my wrists back and tried one more time to escape the cuffs. The sharp metal edged against my skin. Little by little, the handcuffs dug in and cut away the exterior flesh.

My attempts at escaping were of no use. I was going to be forgotten out here and thrown away like a piece of garbage.

As we pulled off of the side of the road, I closed my eyes and thought of Marcus. If this was going to be it, I just wanted to be able to hold him, to smell him, to taste him one more time. I felt sick to my stomach.

For a moment, we sat in silence with the car running. “There’s an order to how things should go,” he suddenly said.

I didn’t dare speak. I just kept focusing on twisting my wrists against the cuffs, a useless game.

Fulton stretched his arms over his gut and sighed as if he had just experienced the longest workday of his life. “Being a cop is a thankless job. Everybody thinks they can do it better. ‘Course, when it comes down to it, no man is better than the next. We all fall in line, don’t we?”

That time, I spoke up. “There are good cops out there,” I said. “You’re just not one of them.”

A chuckle escaped from his belly. Fulton made sure to keep his gun held tightly in his left hand, drawing it back toward the armrest whenever he turned to face me. “I know what you’re going to say. You’re going to tell me that Marcus is one of the good guys, but he ain’t. The kid can’t even shoot a target,” he said.

He continued as I worked my wrist against the hold of the cuffs. “No, he was never destined to rise in the ranks. He did some good, though.”

Quickly glancing back at my wrists, I noticed the blood trickling down my palms, but I was getting closer to my goal. I had to buy some time.

“I don’t think really buy what you’re saying,” I said.

The rain started to crash outside our window. Quite quickly, the wind picked up. Fulton turned around to face me. “There’s no such thing has good and evil, Sawyer,” he said. “There is only the powerful and the weak. The weak, my friend, always lose. Now, come. It’s time we take a walk.”

Fulton put on a tall, flimsy hat. He opened the door and took a step outside with a dark and twisted grin tightening across on his face.

“Don’t do this. Wait.” I backed up against the opposite door, legs in front of me. The rain was dropping against his hat, protecting his face. His grin furthered until he issued a loud cackle.

Anxiously, I waited for the slithering of his grasp, the control of his hands, tight like the ropes I had mastered so long ago. I was powerless here.

When he heaved the door open, I took a deep breath and focused my energy on him. Huddling back against the door, I threw my entire weight at his body, knocking Fulton to the asphalt. I dug my heel into his solar plexus before running as fast as I could into that forest without looking back.

His loud coughing stopped, and suddenly, I was lost in the darkness of the woods, shrouded by the towering trees. When I turned to see Fulton, he was gone.

I fell back against a tree trunk and slowly lowered my body to the earth’s floor. Maybe he lost me, I thought. Of course, for all I knew, he could have been hunting me.

I couldn’t waste time. I had to find a way out of these handcuffs. Falling to my knees, I saw the reflection gleam off of the water like a distant diamond, pulling me toward it.

The lake was close; I could feel the breeze and see the lights from the small dock. Maybe I could find someone or something over there.

As I moved, I could hear Fulton’s footsteps again. My pulse ramped up. He was to the left of me, at least twenty meters away, but he was gaining some ground.

“Where did you run off to?” he called out.

With no ability to use my hands, I pushed myself forward by sliding my thighs in rhythmic motions. The lights were getting closer, and soon, the trees gave way to a sight of distant familiarity.

Fuck. I knew where I was now. Looking out at the water, I remembered how it felt to come here to swim during the summer heat. Back when we were a real family. Back when everything made sense.

But on this edge of the lake, there were no cabins. The dock was isolated. There were no exits. If I wanted to escape, I’d have to swim to the other side.

I whipped my body around and felt a strange energy run through me. No. Please not yet. Fulton was waiting for me to make a sound. I could feel his eyes scoping the area.

I froze. All of my energy was poised to react, but I couldn’t hear his movements anymore. It was as if he had left the forest entirely, but I knew better than to move.

After a few long minutes of waiting, I knew what I had to do. I took a deep breath in and focused on the air leaving my lungs. This was going to hurt.

I leaned forward and picked up a thick twig from the ground. Biting down against it, I started to breath fast through my nose. Eventually, I found the energy to sit up against the trunk of a large tree.

Here goes nothing, I thought.

I pushed my left arm as far to the right as possible. While rotating my right wrist until it faced the outside of the cuff, I brought it upward until my bicep curled.

This, of course, put me in an odd position with my left arm tugging upward at the same time. Next, my right arm scraped up the shoulder blade until… pop.

Biting down on that fucking twig didn’t help ease the pain one bit. I let out a sharp cry of agony, falling to the floor again and swaying backward, stunned.

“Fuck!” I screamed.

I didn’t have time to acknowledge the pain. I just had to keep going. So, I tucked my chin into my chest and twisted both arms over my head until my arms were in stretched out in front of me.

That’s when I saw his shadow drape over me like the boogeyman from my nightmares. His arms stretched in front of him. I heard the cold, metal click of his fingers tightening against the trigger. But I wouldn’t let him beat me.

Marcus. The thought of him gave me strength.

I did a barrel roll down the large hill, feeling my weight carry me until the side of my ribcage hit a tree, effectively knocking the wind out of me. Fulton ran after me, fingers tightening around the trigger of the pistol. I dove behind a set of bushes and heard a crack ring out.

He missed the shot.

A heavy fog started to roll in across the water, ominous and worrying. Through my pain and growing delirium, I found myself running toward the docks, running without any aim in sight, running until I saw another person, a man wearing a long trench coat.

“Alright, Mr. McKinnon. You’ve been an entertaining subject, but every show comes to an end,” he said, placing his hand on a sawed-off shotgun resting on the edge of his hip.

His face was stark, but what I first noticed were the massive scars that lined across his left ear, reducing it to a mash of skin. They were fresh incisions.

My eyes scrolled down to his stomach. He was wounded from what looked to be from a gunshot. We were equal opponents.

I collapsed against the dock, shoulder throbbing with pain. The emotional turmoil of being hunted had pushed me to my breaking point, and I was at a loss. The only option I had was jumping into that cold water, but I knew that with no function from my arm, I’d float to the bottom.

“Chief,” I muttered. “It’s you.”

He limped forward through the fog, his left boot clamping against the damp wood. He was weak. “I’m afraid I’m not your white knight,” he said, only wincing slightly.

“Your stomach… You’ll die out here,” I said.

A second set of footsteps resonated behind me. When they stopped, I could see his shadow once again. Of course, it was Fulton. He aimed his pistol directly at my temple.

“And so will you, Sawyer McKinnon,” he said.

As soon as I heard the kickback from the gun, I knew it was over. I fell to the ground, slumped over in a pool of blood.