Try Not to Breathe, page 33
“Sit down,” Hogan said.
Avery and Hank sat on the edge of the cot, their bodies close to each other. Hank’s hands rested on the edge of the mattress, his fingers hooked like he was holding on for dear life. Hogan and Collins remained standing, their bodies looming over Avery and Hank. There was simply no way out.
“We’re in a tough spot here,” Hogan said. He placed the lamp on a small table next to the cot. It lit his face from below. “We feel pretty certain you’re a cop. And we know you’re a former cop. From a line of cops. You’d have to understand that just about anybody would feel uncomfortable with the police sniffing around their business, not saying what they were doing there. Or even identifying themselves.”
“He’s not a cop,” Avery said. “We met here.”
“Is that so? Was it love at first sight?”
“Let Avery go,” Hank said. “She came here only to find her sister. And she did. She didn’t come here in any law enforcement capacity.”
“Now, how do I know that?” Hogan asked. “Better yet, how do you know it? Now, tell me. What are you? FBI? KSP? DEA?”
“Just let her go, okay? I’ll make a deal with you.”
“Oh, he’s making deals,” Collins said from where he stood by the cabin door. He was farther from the lamp and harder to see in the half-light.
“Let her go and I’ll tell you whatever you want to know. Okay? She has nothing to do with any of it. She’s not a cop. And she wants nothing to do with the family.”
“She’s just going to leave her here, the one she thinks is her sister?” Collins said. “She came a long way to find her. She doesn’t seem like the type to let go easily.”
“I tried to leave, remember?” Avery asked. “You wouldn’t let me.”
“Things keep getting more complicated,” Hogan said.
For the first time, Avery detected an undercurrent of uncertainty in his voice. It made her more nervous, more scared. If he wasn’t sure what to do, then how might he react?
Hank moved slightly next to her, gripping the mattress with greater force. Why didn’t he sit still?
Avery tried to stall.
“I just want to see my—see Anna. I haven’t seen her in a day. I have to go back and talk to my parents, and they’re going to want to know if she’s okay. And I want to be able to tell them the truth. Since you kept me away from her, I’d like to make sure she’s all right.”
“That’s not going to happen,” Hogan said.
“Besides,” Collins said, “she doesn’t want to see you. I saw her up at the house earlier and told her you were still here, and she said she didn’t want anything to do with you. Said the whole family lied to her and now she’s moved on. So . . .” He shrugged like he was dismissing the most minor matter in the world.
Avery suspected he was lying. She couldn’t imagine Anna would have shared her feelings with Collins. And it was easy for them to guess that telling her that Anna wanted nothing to do with her would be a sharp verbal slap.
On the other hand, Anna had told her to get lost. Avery wasn’t going to win any sister-of-the-year prizes. Maybe Anna had really had enough? Maybe she was ready to push her family away once and for all?
How did a family ever come back from that?
They all heard a noise outside. Collins turned, stepped to the door, and placed his hand on it. Avery tilted her head, tried to listen. Had one of the others heard the shots and now the talk in Hank’s cabin and stuck their head out to see what was going on?
“Avery?”
She knew the voice. Anna.
Collins pushed the cabin door open, moved halfway outside to see what was going on. Hogan turned toward the door as well.
Hank made his move. His hand slid farther under the mattress and came out, holding an object that flashed briefly as the lamp flame reflected off it.
Hank brought it down, striking a blow in the upper part of Hogan’s back.
The man howled with pain, his body contorting. Hank brought his hand back, the blade bloody in his hand. He brought it down again, burying it in Hogan’s back one more time.
Avery jumped off the cot and went for Collins.
83
Anna ran from the house and down the trail in the dark.
She had no phone, no light. Her hoodie barely protected her against the cool night air. Her heart pounded. She was in terrible shape for someone her age. She regretted all the nights drinking. The pot and the cigarettes in bars and the days sitting around the apartment instead of exercising like Kayla.
Oh, Kayla. Fuck.
But she ran on anyway, her sneakers slapping the trail. Avery was out there—where someone was shooting. The family hadn’t let Avery leave the farm. Something was wrong.
She went through the first group of cabins. They were closed up, quiet. A fire smoldered, and as Anna passed, she thought she heard the crying of a baby from behind one of the closed doors.
She looked in Avery’s cabin—and it was empty, the blankets dumped on the floor in a heap.
She ran farther down the trail, in the direction she and Avery had walked just the night before. She passed the log where they had sat when Anna told Avery the truth about their family.
The second set of cabins came into view, and she slowed. Her breath came in heaving gasps. In high school she could run the mile as fast as anybody. Now she felt like she was fifty.
Voices came from behind the closed doors of one of the cabins.
Anna could barely form words, but she tried. Her mouth was cottony and dry. She swallowed, almost choked. Then the word came out.
“Avery?”
She waited. Something stirred behind the door.
“Avery? Is that you?”
The door opened, revealing Collins. The despicable guard. The guy who walked around acting like he owned the place, bullying the workers. He pushed the door open, sticking his head out cautiously like he might get shot. He spotted Anna, and a little grin spread across his face.
“Well, well, the princess of the castle.”
He took one step her way, and then a commotion erupted behind him. Bodies slammed into each other. And a man grunted and then gasped in pain inside the cabin.
Collins stopped, turned his head back to look inside the cabin—and as he did, Avery came charging out. She lifted her arms to chest level like a football player throwing a block, and she plowed into Collins, taking him by surprise and knocking him to the ground. He tumbled like an out-of-control acrobat.
Avery stepped over him and extended her hand toward Anna.
Their hands clasped.
“Anna, let’s go.”
She let Avery lead her—and they ran. Down the path and in the direction of the river and the crops.
Anna didn’t know why—they were moving too fast for her to think. But it felt right to trust Avery, to let her sister lead her someplace that—she hoped—was safe.
Avery was clearly in better shape, and Anna tried to keep up with her. Avery slowed to allow Anna to stay with her. And Avery kept looking back, making sure no one was gaining on them.
Anna ran with every muscle in her body tense. Her thighs and calves burned. She expected gunshots to go flying over their heads at any moment. How had her life come to that point?
They pounded across the crappy wooden bridge and kept on.
“Where are we going, Avery?”
“Out. I know the way.”
Just past the bridge, Anna saw a man-sized lump off in the low weeds. They both stopped.
Anna was grateful for the break. She tried to catch her breath, knew she couldn’t. Not without a good fifteen minutes of rest.
Avery went to the man. The body?
“Is that . . . ?” Anna huffed and puffed. “Who is that?”
“It’s Yates.”
“Is he . . . ?”
“He’s dead, Anna. Somebody shot him. Let’s get the fuck out of here before they do the same to us.”
“But why?”
“Let’s go, Anna.”
Avery took her hand again. Grabbed it so tightly, it felt like she’d never let go.
It took Anna back to childhood, to the times Avery had grabbed her hand and guided her across a street or through a parking lot. It felt good to once again feel certain of something, to know the order of things. Big sister taking care of little sister. That was the way it was supposed to be.
Avery yanked Anna down the trail, and they kept going, leaving the dead man and everything else behind them.
84
The pain seared Hogan’s body.
He stumbled forward, catching himself against the front wall of the cabin, the rough boards scraping his palm.
Then Avery Rogers rushed past him, plowing into Collins and then out into the night.
Hogan’s immediate concerns were more pressing. Whatever he’d been stabbed with—knife, screwdriver, shank—remained buried in his back. He felt it there, a foreign object lighting up his nerves with pain that radiated down his arms to the tips of his fingers. Like he was on fire.
The fucking bastard had stabbed him in the back.
And if Hogan didn’t do something, things would get worse.
Hogan lumbered through the cabin door. Like Frankenstein. An ungraceful parody of a man.
Collins lay on the ground, knocked over by Avery Rogers, who had hit him like a charging bull. The two women—the two Rogers women—had run off into the darkness, in the direction of Yates’ body, which Collins and Hogan had failed to get out of sight in time.
“Get them,” he said through pain-gritted teeth. “Get them, damn you.”
Collins rose to his feet, started off.
Hogan managed to reach inside his coat. His hand shook as he wrapped it around the grip of his gun. He hoped he could manage to hold it steady with the pain and the impending loss of blood from the two wounds in his back. The man—James, the cop, whoever the fuck he was—came closer and closer. Ready with the finishing blow.
Hogan drew the gun, held on to it as best he could.
He turned, saw the man coming toward him. He aimed at the center of the man’s chest and fired once and then again.
85
Avery led the way across the fields that lay between the end of the trail through the woods and the one on the far side that Hank had told her about.
She tried to balance moving quickly with being careful. The only light came from the distant moon and the faint stars. The ground was uneven, and the possibility of turning an ankle in a hole or falling hard was very real. Avery also knew Collins would be right behind them. And possibly Hogan, depending on how deep the knife Hank had driven into his back went.
Avery replayed that a few times. Hank off the cot. Wielding the knife he’d clearly hidden. Jamming it into Hogan’s back once and then again, allowing her to escape.
“Fuck,” she said out loud as the images replayed.
“What’s wrong?” Anna kept up but breathed heavily.
“Nothing. I was just thinking about the cabin back there. And how I got out.”
“How did you get out? Besides that baller move of running Collins over. It sounded like there was a fight. Did you have to kick somebody’s ass?”
Avery watched the ground, picking her way carefully. “It wasn’t me. It was Hank.”
“Hank? You mean, Hank Hank? Your ex-boyfriend?”
“Yeah.”
“What’s he doing here? Is that why you came? To see him?”
“No, I came for you. But Hank was here. He’s undercover, I guess. I didn’t know about it.” She considered not telling her sister any more but went ahead. Anna was old enough now, after everything they’d all been through. “He . . . stabbed Hogan in the back. Twice. And that’s how I got out.”
Anna remained quiet for a minute. “He did that? Fuck.”
“He’s a cop. Sometimes cops have to make life-and-death decisions. Dad had to. I did a few times. That’s the job.”
“Shit.”
“Just watch your step.”
“Avery, where are we going?”
“There’s a way out on the far side of this bottomland. Hank told me to head this way. A trail that leads out to Highway Nine. And then help.”
“Won’t it be guarded?”
“Hank says he took care of it. Let’s hope he did. . . .”
“How did this become our lives?”
“I don’t know, Anna. I’m not sure what we’re dealing with. But I just want to get out of here and then figure it all out.”
Avery looked back a few times, making sure no one was following them. But it was so dark, the distance so great, she’d never have been able to see anyone unless they were right on top of her. The only thing they could do was keep moving. Avery worried about shots being fired their way. But if Anna was really related to the Combs family, and Hogan and Collins worked for them, she doubted they would fire randomly in her direction.
Anna’s presence might keep them safe from that.
She hoped.
Ahead, she made out the tree line, the one that the path Hank told her about would cut through. She silently willed them on, holding on to a wish that they’d make it that far before Collins or Hogan—if he could—reached them.
She also carried a thought for those back on the farm. The migrant workers confined to their cabins. They had likely heard the shots, heard the scrum between her and Hank and Collins and Hogan. One man was already dead, killed by Hogan and Collins. Hank’s time might be limited, if he wasn’t dead already. She’d seen the treatment of the workers, Hank’s concerns about them.
What was going to happen if everything blew up? If those who ran the farm feared exposure?
Avery and Anna reached the trees. But in the dark it wouldn’t be easy to find the path. They couldn’t just plunge into the pitch-dark woods without knowing the right way to go. It would be too easy to get lost, to wander in circles and end up right back on the farm and in deeper trouble than before.
If there really was a path that led to the highway, that was the only way to get out without a compass or a light or anything else.
“I’m so tired, Avery. I don’t— You’re in way better shape than I am.”
“And I’m so much older, right?”
“I didn’t say that. I’m just . . . I’m impressed . . . with you and Hank. . . .”
“That’s the second time he saved my life.”
They walked along, parallel to the trees, trying to find an opening. Avery kept one ear trained behind them in case someone came up. Sound would carry well across the open, flat bottomland. Unless Collins was good at sneaking up on people, they’d know he was coming.
Finally, they came to an opening.
Avery studied it, took a few steps into the trees with Anna behind her. Avery made sure it really was a path. And it was. Not too wide but clearly there. Easy to follow. And it headed north, through the Combs property and—hopefully—out onto Highway 9. From there it would be easy to flag down a passing car, find a driver with a phone that worked. Get into the nearest town.
“You’re sure this is it?” Anna asked.
“I don’t see any other options.”
“Then let’s go. I’m feeling better. I can make it.”
Avery hesitated, stood in the middle of the path. She looked forward and then back.
“Avery?”
Something moved behind her. A rustling of the tall grass louder than the other night sounds. The crickets and the birds—
“Avery?”
“Shhh.”
A man emerged from the left side of the trail, his arms extended. He lurched at them, and Anna screamed.
86
He was the guard. The one Hank was supposed to have taken out.
But he was on his feet, coming right toward them.
Avery had never seen him. His face was contorted with anger. His mouth snarled like an angry dog’s. His giant hands groped the air before them.
Avery stepped forward, put herself between Anna and the man. She prepared to strike, to lash out with her fist and do whatever she could to stop the man and let Anna run away.
But before she swung, the man dropped to his knees. He stared straight ahead, eyes unfocused. His gnarled facial features relaxed. His mouth grew loose and slack, his chin falling to his chest. He tipped forward, going flat onto the ground, his face mashing into the dirt.
Avery saw the sticky mess on the back of his head. The blood where someone—Hank—had struck him.
He lay still. A single low moan escaped from his mouth, and then he grew silent.
“Oh, God, Avery. Is he dead?”
“I doubt it.” Avery looked over, saw the hoodie Anna wore. She grabbed the drawstring and gave it a good yank, pulling it all the way free.
“Ow. Avery.”
“Shhh.”
Avery dropped to one knee next to the man and pulled his hands together behind his back. She quickly tied the man with a constrictor knot, making sure he couldn’t do much even if he did manage to stand again.
“How do you know how to do that?” Anna asked.
“Dad taught me.”
“Why bother with that? He can’t catch us. Let’s go.”
“No.” Avery stood up. “You’re going on without me.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m going back,” she said. “There are too many people in danger. Look at this place. I can’t just leave them.”
“No, Avery. We’re going to go out this trail. We’ll get the police. That will help everybody.”
Avery walked to her sister, placed her hands on her shoulders. “I can’t. You go. Just follow the path. Get out to the highway and get ahold of the police. Tell them—tell them there’s a KSP officer here and he’s in danger. Probably hurt. And a man’s been killed, and there’s human trafficking and every kind of illegal activity. They won’t be surprised. They know what goes on here—they’re just turning a blind eye until they can’t anymore.”
