Save Me: A dark romantic thriller (Novel) (5 page)

Now she suddenly spied a glimpse of the leader’s face. Before Ashley had not gotten a clear look at him. This time, however, after the other guy had bent down to pick up the flashlight, the beam had temporarily put Craig‘s identity into focus. With his grungy black beard and cruel eyes, Ashley thought the leader looked like the Helter Skelter version of Charles Manson.

“I don’t see it,” Buck announced disappointedly, now anxiously searching the ground. He shined the flashlight in numerous directions, the way investigators do when exploring a crime scene.

“Keep looking.”

“Maybe it’s underneath her.”

“Could be,” Craig decided. Then to Ashley he said, “Roll over.”

She did. Although she had no idea what they were searching for. They seemed desperate. Whatever it was they had lost must have been extremely important.

“I still don’t see it.”

“Neither do I. But it has to be around here somewhere. This is really pissing me off.”

“Maybe the dairy dude has it.”

“You think?”

“You never know. He might have put the bracelet in his pocket. He might have thought it belonged to her.”

“You could be right,” said Craig, contemplating the situation. “Then pat him down. And be thorough. Pull every pocket all the way out. Coat, shirt, and pants. And while you‘re at it check his socks as well.”

“Sure. I’ll pat him down. Except I’m hoping that that other guy who came out here didn’t walk off with it.”

Following a pressure-filled minute, the leader impatiently asked, “Well?” He kicked at the dirt.

“Nah. This lame ass pussy doesn’t have anything on him. All he has is some loose change, paper clips, and what looks like a pack of Bubble Yum chewing gum. He doesn‘t even have a wallet. I’m telling you Craig; I have an itchy suspicion that that other guy from the supermarket who went to get help has your bracelet.”

It turned out not to be true.

The bracelet, just as Buck had previously speculated, was underneath Ashley, it had sunk into the folds of her shirt. Craig was the one who had spotted it. Relieved, he immediately held the shiny silver chain up in the air so that Stumpy could see it. “Bingo!”

“You found it?”

“Yep.”

“Cool beans bro! I thought that chain was history.”

“It’s a good thing we came back. And now that we found it, we need to take care of something else.”

“Craig, are you thinking what I think you’re thinking?”

“I am.” The leader looked at Ashley. The stare seemed purely sinister, Manson-like. What little compassion may have been in his dark eyes before, had now completely disappeared.

“Why though? I thought we weren’t going to resort to that.”

“Let’s just say I don’t feel confident anymore leaving evidence behind. Especially evidence that can talk, like people.”

“But dawg-”

“No buts.” The leader promptly rebuffed the idea of reconsidering. “Yeah. I have to admit, Stump, I really don’t have anything against women. After all, my mother, daughter, aunts, and three of my cousins are female. Though I do believe our gal here saw something she shouldn’t have.”

Suddenly, from the Crown Jewel supermarket, a voice came over a loudspeaker and called out to them. This person, stood next to the Farmland Dairies truck. The tractor-trailer’s headlights had abruptly switched on, sending, across part of the field, a long path of artificial sunshine. The headlights, however, were not strong enough to reach the trees in the forest.

“No way!” Buck yipped, taken aback. “Who the hell is that?”

“Hmn. It’s either gotta be the truck driver,” Craig deduced, while absentmindedly tugging at his beard. “Or, it might be another supermarket employee.”

“What do you want to do?”

“Sssh. Just shut up for a minute so we can hear what this moron is saying.”

“TROY,” the voice echoed across the grassy terrain. “THE POLICE AND PARAMEDICS SHOULD BE HERE ANY MINUTE NOW. IT’S TAKING THEM LONGER TO GET HERE BECAUSE THERE’S A FIRE OVER NEAR THE BOWLING ALLEY . . . THAT’S WHERE ALL THAT SMOKE IS COMING FROM. IF YOU CAN HEAR ME, CLICK THE FLASHLIGHT OFF FOR A SECOND.”

“Turn it off,” Craig instructed.

Buck did as he was told.

“ALL RIGHT. I’M GONNA GO WAIT FOR THEM OUT IN FRONT OF THE STORE. BY THE WAY, TROY, HOW’S THE GIRL DOING? GIVE ME AN UPDATE . . . FLICK THE FLASHLIGHT BACK ON IF SHE’S STILL HANGING IN THERE.”

Again, Buck sent the appropriate signal.

When the person speaking over the loudspeaker had gone back inside the market, Craig crouched down behind Ashley. Then, like a python, he proceeded to wrap his arms around her neck.

“Hey. Don’t you worry now,” he whispered fiendishly, beginning to strangle her. “I’ll try to make this as quick and painless as possible.”

In front of the Crown Jewel supermarket, two Wichita patrol cars, with their red & blue beacons flashings, had pulled up near the glass entrance, beside the long row of shopping carts. Dairy employee, Adam Campbell, who had been waiting there with the store security guard Eli Hill, promptly flagged them down.

“Sorry for the delay,” one of the officers apologized. “That large fire across town at the Langley Motel is causing a lot of havoc. The roof caved in and there’s displaced people standing in the street. Luckily no one got hurt, but it’s taking the fire department a long time to get the blaze under control . . . So what seems to be the problem?”

“Someone beat up a girl!” Adam quickly explained. He had poked his head in the car window. “And she’s concerned that her baby might be hurt.”

“Whoa whoa! Hold on a second,” the female cop in the passenger seat interrupted. “Baby? Someone assaulted a girl and a child?”

“No, no!” Adam spoke so hurriedly, in order to continue, he had to stop and take a deep, restorative breath. “The girl who was assaulted is pregnant. At least that’s what she said. I don’t know. It was hard to tell. Anyway, my dairy manager and I think she works here at the shopping center, at BVX. We‘re pretty sure she‘s one of the cashiers.”

“And where is this young lady now?”

“Behind the building. In the field near the woods. We had to leave her out there because she has an injured leg and can‘t walk.”

“What happened to her leg?”

“I don‘t know. All I know is she can’t put any pressure on it. When we tried to help her up, she was in so much pain; she had to immediately sit back down. We didn‘t want to force her to walk.”

“That doesn’t sound good.”

Adam nodded. “No.”

Once the female officer had relayed the information to the dispatcher, the male cop, who had a double chin and a thin black mustache, asked Adam to be more specific in terms of the victim‘s present location.

“If you want, I can show you where she is.”

“Okay.” With static and broken voices coming from the police radio, the male officer got out of the car and opened the back door. An industrial scent of new vinyl wafted out. “Hop in.”

“You’ve got it.”

“Which way?”

“They’re behind Crown Jewel, so swing around to the right.”

The police cruiser, with Adam now in the backseat, rolled around to the rear of the strip mall. The other patrol car slowly followed.

Near the Farmland Dairies tractor-trailer, a handful of curious employees that must have been on a late dinner break, stood on the loading dock, including the supervisor of the market Chet Comchelli. He wore glasses, had his hands on his hips, and looked extremely troubled. Adam decided that the supervisor’s main concern was likely that he and Troy had left their posts without consulting him. Chet had a mean streak in him and didn’t tolerate, what he often referred to as his crew stealing company time.

“Me and my department manager were unloading that delivery truck in front of us,” Adam, through the steel mesh, provided more details. “When out of nowhere we heard a loud scream. We grabbed a flashlight and when we finally found the girl, who’s probably about my age, whoever it was that jumped her had already taken off. I figure whoever attacked her ran into the woods. They probably saw us coming.”

“And you said you didn‘t see anyone?” the lady cop wanted to confirm.

“No. No one.” Both officers inquired as to his manager’s whereabouts. Adam told them that Troy had stayed behind to tend to the injured woman. “All right,” he pointed. “You can stop! They’re off to the left there. A little more than a hundred yards out.”

“Is that them there?” the male officer asked, noticing the dim light. He had stopped the patrol car near the edge of the weedy grass.

“Yes. That’s our flashlight.”

“It looks like it’s on the ground tipped over,” the lady cop noted. Then she got back on the radio to dispatch to let them know what was going on. “We might need back up. I’ll let you know in a few minutes. Okay. Great. The ambulance is here. Thank you.”

Desperately gasping for oxygen, and feeling her life slip away, Ashley heard the man who looked like Charles Manson utter, “That’s it,” as he continued to strangle her. “Don’t fight it. Just close your eyes. It’s almost over.”

“You’re crazy,” Buck said, shaking his head. “Craig, I can’t believe you’re doing that.”

“Hey,” the leader retaliated. “If she didn’t see my face I wouldn’t have to do this. So shut up!”

“How do you know she really did?”

“Because, I could tell by the look in her eyes.”

***

As dairy manager Troy Young gradually regained consciousness, he put his hand on his head and felt the big bump. What the hell? he thought, struggling to shake the wooziness from his mind.

Then, as Troy gingerly rolled over onto his side and tried to formulate logic out of what had transpired; he became aware that someone was choking Ashley Ferguson. He could hear her wheezing and coughing.

“Christ Stumpy! She just bit my hand. This kicking kangaroo might have given me rabies.”

“It probably serves you right.”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

Troy had to do something. He could not allow Ashley Ferguson to be murdered in cold blood. It took every trace of resolve he had within himself to get back up to his feet. Then, like a livid bull, he charged at the guy responsible for the chokehold and aggressively tackled him.

Once he had the man down on the ground, Troy, with heavy jackhammer fists, began to pummel him. “How does that feel?” he shouted. This was an ingredient to his personality he didn’t even know existed.

“Get off me!”

“No! See, you’re nobody without that stick!” Blood and saliva sprayed from the leader’s mouth the way it sometimes does when a boxer is being flattened in a corner.

“Stump!”

“Need help?”

“I do. Get this animal off me!”

Suddenly the weightlifter seized Troy from behind, and then picked him up and body slammed him. Troy struck the slick turf exceptionally hard, and in the process, damaged his neck.

Then, frantic and disorientated, he remembered the pocketknife he had in a holster, attached to his belt. Troy used the knife at work to cut cardboard boxes open. He pulled the sharp blade free, and then savagely slashed the weightlifter‘s arm.

“Ouuuuchhh!” the bodybuilder wailed, looking down.

“Come on!” Troy threatened, creeping forward. “You want more?”

“This freak has a knife!” Buck told Craig. “I think he cut a vein on my wrist!”

“How badly are you bleeding?”

“I don’t know. I can’t tell.”

“Where’d he get the knife? I thought you said he was clean.”

“I guess I didn‘t pat him down as well as I thought.”

“You drunken idiot. What kind of knife does he have, is it a switchblade?”

“No. It’s like a folding-knife.”

“I said bring it!” Troy again threatened. “Both of you. I‘m gonna cut your Adam‘s apple out.” Adrenalin had kicked in.

“I don’t think so,” the leader sneered, now standing up. “You’ve got that backwards, we’re gonna cut your Adams apple out!”

“That a fact?”

“Yeah. It is; you lousy Rambo-wannabe.”

“I don‘t know how badly I‘m cut,” Buck said. “But now I’m completely pissed off.” He approached Troy slowly, carefully, preparing to pounce. “Come on sissy, try that again.”

“See, now you’re dead meat,” Craig mocked. “You made my boy mad. You don‘t want to make my boy mad. He turns into the devil when he‘s mad.”

With the knife, Troy swiped ragingly at the air.

“If you’re so bad,” he hissed. “Then make your move. I’ll slice you again.”

Before any more violence could develop, they heard Adam Campbell’s voice boom from the Farmland Dairies truck’s loudspeaker: “TROY, TURN THE FLASHLIGHT BACK ON. THE COPS NEED TO KNOW WHERE YOU ARE. THEY’RE GONNA DRIVE OUT THERE. THE AMBULANCE IS HERE AS WELL.”

“Shit!” the guy who’d been cut said to the leader. “Bro, screw this loser. We have the bracelet. Let‘s get out of here!” Like a sprinter who had just heard the starting gun, he bolted.

Realizing he had better do the same, the leader followed.

Troy could hear the offenders panting restlessly, as they dashed back into the forest. Initially, he wanted to chase them. Then he thought about Ashley, and realized if she had any chance at survival, every second was crucial. She lay there on the ground not moving or making any sound. Troy feared that she was dead.

As soon as he located the flashlight, Troy immediately pointed the beam toward the strip mall, to signal their location. It only took the cops and the ambulance a few seconds to reach his position.

More tears formed in Troy’s eyes. He felt psychologically lost. Earlier, his life had been uncomplicated. Now he may have just witnessed a homicide. What would happen? Would those maniacs come back one day and try to murder him, finish the job? Or if they were apprehended, would he have to spend the next year of his life in court, testifying? The depressing thing was Troy knew if it came to a court trial, he would not be able to identify the criminals.

***

After the police had transported him back to the shopping center, Troy met up with Adam. His blond-haired co-worker stood next to the loading dock, among a deluge of red & blue flashers.