Chapter Fourteen
Dallas
I’m living the day of the bank robbery all over again. I’m paralyzed with fear, the scene before me just as unreal, but infinitely more terrifying because my child’s life is in danger. I want to scream, launch myself at this horrible monster, dig his eyeballs out with my fingernails to defend my baby. But all I can do is blubber and cry, hide behind the solid wall of my unlikely mountain man, desperately wishing this was all a nightmare and that I’d wake up any second.
But it’s all too real. My baby’s cries stab through me as painfully as knives. They are all I can hear, even as I strain to comprehend what Levi is saying.
“Let her take the baby and go.”
The man tilts his head as if weighing the pros and cons, an amused grin on his face. “Tell you what. You hand over the keys to that nice truck along with that bag of money, and I’ll consider it.”
“The keys are in it,” Levi says. “Go. Now. You can sell it for the same amount of money I’ve got in the bag.”
He clucks his tongue. “They aren’t. I checked. I could have stolen it from you days ago if they were.” He’s right. Levi keeps the keys on him at all times. But I’ve never seen the duffel bag of money since I’ve been here. “And I figure it’s my turn to be a little greedy. I want both, the truck and the money.”
“Do what he says, Levi. Please. Then he’ll leave,” I say, my voice hoarse from crying, screaming, and coughing.
“That’s right. I’ll leave. Listen to pretty mama there, He-man. I think she’s a whole lot smarter than you. In fact, I think she and junior will both be better off without you.”
“Fine. But let them go first. Put the gun down so she can get the baby and take him outside. They don’t need to see what happens next. You wouldn’t wish that on them, would you?”
“I suppose not. Poor little fella might be traumatized for life. Alright,” he says, setting the rifle down on the mantel. “C’mon over, pretty mama. Take your bundle of joy and go. Can’t stand his caterwauling another minute anyways.”
“Step away from the basket,” Levi says as he grips my hand behind his back, guiding it slowly to his jean pocket. I can feel the outline of his key fob inside it, and know what he wants me to do. “Dally. Walk slowly. Take the basket and go outside, get as far away as you can.”
Unseen behind Levi’s broad silhouette, I slip the keys into my jacket pocket, then step out in plain sight. I stare down the man and walk purposefully toward the basket, holding my hands away from my body to show I have nothing on me. Mason is gasping for breath in the wake of his escalating cries. The man stands aside a pace. Just one more step and I’ve got my hands around the carry handle of the bassinet, lifting it from the floor.
“Thank you,” I whisper, not to this crazy asshole, but to whatever serendipity that has allowed me to rescue my son, and to the hope that his father will still be alive by sunset.
I turn and nod silently at Levi, then make for the door. Please God. Let Levi live. I can’t lose him again. I cross the porch and step onto the soft, sweet-smelling earth. I walk away, into the forest where I gather Mason in my arms to comfort him. As his cries subside, I double back behind the cabin where the truck is parked. He’ll never let bullet-guy have it; he only promised it as a bargaining chip, to buy us time to make our escape. One that Levi might pay for with his life.
As soon as I start the engine, bullet-guy will know he’s been duped, and I don’t want to imagine what he’ll do after that, but the choice has been made. I slide Mason noiselessly onto the passenger seat and click the seat belt closed around him before climbing in. I keep my head down, almost below the steering wheel. I barely give the ignition a chance to turn over before I slam the truck into gear and hit the gas. Thank Christ he’d chosen an automatic transmission.
We’re away from the building and heading into the hidden lane that leads to the nearest road within seconds, the truck’s heavy frame bulldozing over roots and rocks, clipping off branches as we fly through the narrow passage. I can’t hear anything over the engine’s roar and my baby’s cries, and I’m glad. The sound of a single shot from a gun in my lifetime was enough, the day of the robbery. I can’t bear to think the next one I hear might be passing through the heart of the man I love.
As I round a bend in the path, I hit the brakes hard, nearly colliding with the dark bulk blocking the road. The dirty gray van sits there like a menacing gatekeeper, daring us to get by. Damn him! There’s a few feet of clearance to one side, but hardly the width of the Chevy. Forgive me, Levi. I back up, steer to the open side and barrel through, scraping one side of the truck against the van and the other against a clump of willows. With an agonizing screech of metal against metal, I’m past the van and on my way to the junction with the dirt road. I turn onto it, trusting my instincts that I’m going in the right direction back to the 101. Levi didn’t say where I was to go, other than as far away as possible; how could he have? But I can’t just take off for parts unknown, leaving him to whatever fate he’s met up there with that criminal. Is that my fate, to once again leave my son fatherless, never knowing what became of him? Surely fate wouldn’t do that to me twice.
I have to know. I have to wait for him. He’ll know we’ve gone toward town. If he escapes, he’ll come down this road, too. I pull off the rutted dirt tracks and back the truck in between a copse of trees where I can see out, but no one can see in unless they are really looking. I doubt there’s much traffic on this backwoods trail anyway. If he’s not here in an hour, I’ll carry on toward Beaver. Maybe wait at the Hungry Bear. I glance around the cab of the truck, and my heart leaps as I notice Levi’s radio handset is still here. I turn the unit on, but what if bullet-guy has gotten hold of the other one? I might be hailing my own killer if I try to call. Shit.
I unbuckle Mason and hold him in my lap. I have nothing for him except the comfort of my presence. I wrap my arms around him, rock him gently, and begin to sing. It’s all I can think of. The tune isn’t even a lullaby, just an old folk song I remember from my own childhood. My voice is weak and reedy, and my breathing ragged, but it seems to calm him anyway. In a few minutes he’s dozing off. I try not to cough, though my chest feels like it wants to explode. Mason won’t be the only patient calling on Doc Halpert when we get back to Forks. If we make it back to Forks.
As I watch the shadows lengthening in the waning daylight, silent tears fill my eyes and spill out over my cheeks. How did all this craziness happen? Life was so golden and filled with promise two years ago; now look at it. Families broken and dreams dashed; killers on the loose, and the father of my child probably lying dead in a run-down mountain shack. It isn’t fair. We never did anything to deserve this; yeah, Levi shot a man. But it was in self-defense. We’re good people. Suddenly I find myself laughing in a giddy, maniacal way borne of too much stress and too little sleep. I guess the old saying is true. Bad things happen to good people.
I wipe my eyes and look out the windows of the cab. The sun has nearly disappeared behind the mountains, and no sign of Levi. I resign myself to having to move on toward town. I’ll call my parents and let them know where we are. God. What am I going to say to them? I can’t fake having just been laying low at a motel for the last week. I look like crap; I don’t have any of the stuff I left with. Hell, I don’t even know if my car is still there. My keys, wallet, and everything else is still up at the cabin. I’m not ready to tell them about Levi. Not until I know if he’s alive or dead. I take a deep breath. I’m going to have to drive back up there.
I shift Mason from my lap back onto the passenger seat and buckle him in again. If a cop were to drive by, I could get a ticket for not having a proper safety seat, but I doubt that will happen way out here, and it’s the least of my worries. As I reach to start the truck’s engine, the radio handset crackles to life.
“Dally. Where are you?”
I nearly crumple in relief at the sound of his voice, like every bone in my body has turned to mush. I grab for the handset and push the button. “Levi! I’m on the cut-line road, not far from the lane turnoff. Where are you? Are you alright?”
“Wait there. I’m on my way down the lane on foot. We have to get to the ranger station, fast.”
“I’ll come get you…”
“Don’t come back up here,” he shouts. He’s breathing heavily, like he’s running. “The cabin’s on fire.”