No Return (29 page)

This party was their third trip.

But since Mandy was a Rocks virgin, everything was new and exciting to her. She found out about the party from her older sister, who offered to act as guide, but had gotten sick the day before and couldn’t go. Mandy had then begged Wes and Lars to come with her instead.

Music wafted down the path—R.E.M., Springsteen, Nirvana—growing louder and louder the closer they got. They passed a group of stoners who were laughing at some unknown joke and sharing a joint, and three guys Wes recognized from history class, drinking beer and throwing rocks at the stars.

“Slow down a little,” Lars said. He’d fallen behind, already winded.

“Come on, Pudge,” Wes said, channeling his father. “Pick it up.”

“Don’t call me that!”

A few moments later a voice off to the side said, “What are you looking at?”

Wes turned and saw two people tucked into a nook. It was too dark there to see their faces, but he could tell one was a girl, her shirt opened to her waist.

“Nothing,” Lars said quickly.

“Pervert,” she sneered, then turned back to her friend.

Lars double-timed it up to Wes and Anna. “Well, this should be fun.”

The path narrowed, forcing them to shuffle through single file. Then the miniature canyon opened onto the clearing. At the far end, flames shot upward against the backdrop of the tear-shaped boulder. Surrounding the bonfire on the remaining three sides had to be over a hundred teenagers—drinking and laughing and talking, and some even dancing to the blaring music.

“There’s more people here than I thought there’d be,” Mandy said.

“Definitely bigger than the last party we were at,” Lars said.

They stood where they were for a moment, suddenly intimidated.

“Come on,” Wes finally said, taking a step forward.

As they neared the fire a voice called out, “Wes Stewart?”

A tall, thin teenager pulled himself out of the crowd at the flames. In his hand was a bottle of Jack Daniel’s.

“Hey, Dodson,” Wes said.

Slightly unstable, Gary Dodson negotiated his way over to them. “Never thought I’d see you at one of these.”

“It’s not my first time,” Wes said defensively.

Gary thrust the bottle of Jack forward. “Drink?”

“No, thanks.”

Gary offered it to Lars and Mandy; both declined.

“Ain’t no fun if you’re going to stand around sober all night,” he said.

Lars held up the six-pack of beer. “Not planning on it.”

Gary laughed. “Splitting that between the three of you, you won’t even get buzzed.” He stumbled off, chuckling to himself.

They soon found themselves standing near the fire, each holding a beer. Occasionally a partygoer would fall down, but since it was relatively early, most were still sober enough to get back up again.

Two beers and a few boring hours later, Wes walked out into the desert to relieve himself. As he was heading back to the fire, Carly Jones, a girl from his journalism class, cornered him. “Have a joint?”

“Uh … no,” Wes said. “Sorry.”

“No problem. I have one.” She pulled a half-smoked roach out of her pocket and held it near her mouth. “Please tell me you have a light at least.”

Wes shrugged apologetically. “I don’t.”

“Damn.” She took a step closer, crossing into his personal space. “How are you going to make it up to me?”

He countered with a step back. “See if someone has a lighter?”

She reached out and touched him on the chest, her finger slipping through the gap between buttons and touching his skin. “That’s not what I was hoping for.” Carly had never been shy about making her interest in him clear. It was a one-way infatuation.

Wes half moved, half slapped her hand away. “Let me get that match.” He flashed a smile and dodged past her.

Back at the fire, he found Lars in nearly the same spot where he left him, and immediately said, “I think I see a shooting star.”

Lars shot a look at the sky. “Where?”

“No, moron. I think I see a
shooting star
,” Wes repeated their exit code phrase.

“Oh,
right
.” Lars nodded. “Thank God. I’ve been ready to leave for thirty minutes.”

“Why didn’t you say something before?”

“I thought you were having fun.”

Wes rolled his eyes. “Where’s Mandy?”

“I … uh … thought she was right here.”

“That’s just great.”

They couldn’t leave without her, so Wes began asking people if they knew where she was, but got nothing better than shrugs in response. Finally a girl named Cheri Knight pointed into the darkness to the east. “Think I saw her go that way. Probably taking a pee.”

They found a spot against one of the rocks and waited. But when Mandy didn’t show up after several minutes, Wes got restless. “I’ll go check and see if she’s really out there. You stay here in case I miss her.”

Wes turned down the path and began calling out her name. But the only thing he heard in response was the music and the rumble of the party behind him.

He kept walking. “Mandy?”

Still nothing.

He figured she couldn’t have gone much farther than he already was, so he was beginning to think Cheri had been wrong.

Somewhere ahead he heard a noise. It had been brief, so he wasn’t sure if it had been a voice or just the breeze through the bushes.

He hesitated a moment, and was about to turn back to the party when he heard it again. Only longer this time. A cry. At least he thought it was a cry.

Wes began to run toward it. Ahead, there was a small ridge lined with boulders along the crest. As he neared the top he heard another sound. Different this time. Definitely a voice, but deeper than the first.

Then the original voice screamed.

Wes raced to the top, pulling himself quickly over the rocks to see what was happening. But the deep darkness of the desert hid more than it revealed.

A grunt, and a muffled cry, both from somewhere below and to the left.

Wes looked around, trying to find a way down the hill. He spotted a narrow trail about ten feet to his left and leapt toward it. Going faster than he knew he should, he all but stumbled down the hill. As he neared the bottom he threw his hands out toward a boulder to slow his progress, and barely avoided tumbling to the ground.

He paused for a second, took a deep breath, then pushed himself around a pile of rocks.

Mandy was lying on the ground ten feet away, terrified. One arm was trying to cover her exposed breasts, while the other was pulling down what was left of her shirt toward her bare waist. Her pants were lying on the ground off to the side.

And she wasn’t alone.

Jack Rice was kneeling between her legs, his pants pulled down. “Turn over and get on your knees. We’re not done.”

“What the hell’s going on?” Wes said.

Jack whipped around. “Get out of here, Stewart.”

Wes took a couple steps forward. “Mandy, are you okay?”

“She’s fine,” Jack said. “Now leave us alone, asshole.”

Mandy turned away from Wes and began to sob.

“What did you do to her?” Wes demanded.

Jack got to his feet and pulled his pants up. “I said get out of here!” Mandy started to push herself up and away from Jack. But as soon as she was on her feet, he grabbed her and pulled her against him. “Where you going, baby?”

“Let her go!” Wes said.

Jack sneered. “We’re having some alone time, Stewart. So this is none of your goddamn business.”

Wes took another step forward, his hands clenching into fists at his side. “Let! Her! Go!”

Jack had a good four inches on Wes, and at least fifty pounds. But Wes wasn’t thinking about any of that. The only thing on his mind was Mandy.

“Leave right now, Stewart,” Jack said, “and maybe I won’t beat the crap out of you.”

Wes held his ground. “Right now, Jack!”

Mandy let out a loud cry as Jack tightened his grip. Looking at Wes, he said, “You’re not very smart, are you?”

“I’m not leaving,” Wes said.

“Your choice.” Jack pushed Mandy to the ground, then glared at her. “You move and you’re dead.”

She pulled her legs to her chest and tried to curl up into a ball.

“What did you do to her?” Wes said.

Jack laughed, his alcohol-infused breath reaching Wes a second later. “Do to her? You think she didn’t want it? Hell, she was begging me for more just before you got here.”

“Begging you? That’s not what it looked like to me!”

Jack lunged at Wes, telegraphing his move a half second before he stepped. Wes easily jumped out of Jack’s line of fire, but what he didn’t anticipate was Jack’s arm flailing out as he passed by.

A meaty fist caught Wes just above his hip. Pain reverberated in an electric shock across his pelvis as he spun backward, tripped, and fell into a sage bush.

Wes tried to push himself up as Jack swung back in his direction. But he was unable to get to his feet before Jack was on him.

“You’re screwed now!” Jack yelled in Wes’s ear.

Blows began landing against Wes’s sides and arms. Wild blows, made sloppy by beer and rage.

Wes did his best to absorb the onslaught, twisting and turning each time he was struck, but even unfocused, Jack was strong, and each hit was more and more painful.

Thwap
.

Jack yelled out, one of his hands grabbing the side of his face as blood trickled down his cheek.

Not wasting the opportunity, Wes pushed up on Jack’s chest, then slid to the left as Jack tumbled over and hit the ground. Freed, Wes scrambled to his feet again. He aimed a kick at Jack’s ribs, but Jack twisted to the side and regained his footing. Wes braced himself to be rushed again, but Jack, his palm pressed against his bloody face, stared past him at something else.

“You bitch!” he yelled.

Wes glanced over his shoulder.

Mandy was standing a dozen feet away. She had pulled her pants back on, and was holding a rock in her hand. The sound he’d heard must have been a similar stone connecting with Jack’s face.

“Run, Mandy! Get out of here!” Wes yelled.

She hesitated a moment, then sprinted into the brush. Wes pivoted to follow her, but Jack slammed a fist into Wes’s back, knocking him sideways, then took off after Mandy.

Wes knew he couldn’t give in to the pain. He forced himself forward, slowly for a few steps, but soon gained speed.

He couldn’t see Mandy, but he could see Jack’s silhouette moving up the slope between rocks and brush. He tried to close the gap, but the terrain made it difficult.

As he neared the top he heard Mandy scream, “Leave me alone!”

Wes scaled a boulder like it wasn’t even there, then spotted Mandy and Jack just off to the left on top of a flat slab of stone. Jack was standing a few feet in front of Mandy, his back to Wes. As scared as she must have been, she was still holding on to her stone, ready to throw.

“Put the goddamn rock down,” Jack ordered.

She raised the rock a few inches. “Get away from me!”

“I said put it down!”

Wes moved as quietly as he could across the rocks, staying out of Jack’s line of sight.

“You don’t want to mess with me,” Jack told Mandy. “Put it down and I’ll let you go back to the party.”

She shook her head.

“Drop the rock, or I swear I’ll—”

Wes, head lowered, raced forward and slammed into Jack’s back. A loud expulsion of air escaped Jack’s mouth as he was knocked off his feet.

Mandy leapt to her right, just barely getting out of his way.

As soon as Jack got back up, he whirled around, his eyes wild with rage.

But this time Wes was ready. As Jack made a run at him, Wes dodged to the side, then swung a fist as hard as he could into Jack’s ear.

Jack cried out in pain and grabbed the side of his head. “You’re dead, Stewart!”

He took a step toward Wes and swung with a right. Wes leaned back enough so that the blow glanced off his arm, then he moved in, landing two quick jabs to Jack’s stomach. He immediately stepped back out of range as Jack’s next swing caught only air.

Jack roared in frustration. He swung and missed again.

Wes attempted another blow, but this time Jack threw his arm up, blocking it, then hit Wes hard in the gut.

Staggering backward, Wes tried to get out of the way of the next punch, but was only partially successful as the blow meant for his chin found his shoulder instead. He winced as pain shot across his chest. When he was able to focus again, Jack was standing in front of him, grinning as if the fight was over and he’d won.

“Once I’m done with you, I’m going to make sure your girlfriend never forgets me,” Jack said, sneering.

A ball of heat deep inside Wes’s chest began to pulsate. A heat that remembered Jack the bully hitting kids in junior high for no reason, remembered Jack and his buddies throwing milkshakes at Wes’s friends during lunch, remembered Jack groping Mandy’s chest, her shirt in tatters.

The sound that came out of Wes’s mouth began as a rumble and turned into a roar as he lunged toward Jack and began swinging.

Stomach.

Arm.

Face.

Arm.

Chest.

Face.

Stomach.

He kept throwing punches as fast as he could. Jack first tried to counter, but quickly moved his arms up to protect himself.

More blows, one after another after another.

Jack tried to move back out of range, but Wes matched him step for step.

“Watch out!” Mandy yelled.

Wes wasn’t listening. He continued to hit Jack, oblivious to everything else.

“What the hell’s going on?”

Lars’s voice. Nearby, but unimportant.

Shoulder.

Face.

Ribs.

“Wes, the edge!” Mandy called.

“Stop! Goddammit! Stop!” Jack yelled. “I give. All right? I give.”

That got through.

Wes dropped his arms to the side, panting. He realized that he had backed Jack up to within inches of the rock’s edge. Beyond was a drop of at least two dozen feet.

“What the hell’s wrong with you?” Jack asked moving his arms away from his face.

Wes breathed deeply several times. “You should have … never … touched her.”