The Wildman (35 page)

“
I thought you said you weren’t going to beg,” Ben said with derisive snort.

“
I’m not begging. I’m just telling you … there was nothing any of us could have done. Christ, Ben. We were kids. You can’t—”

A flash of light filled the night, followed a split second later by the report of the gun. The bullet ricocheted off the ground with a loud whine inches from Jeff’s left foot.

Jeff flinched, thinking for an instant he’d been hit, but then he realized he hadn’t …

Not yet … He’s toying with me.

He looked left and right, desperate to find someplace to hide, but he knew he didn’t have the strength to run. His only sliver of hope was the thought that Ben wasn’t immortal, either. He must be nearly as exhausted as Jeff. If he could just get away somehow …

But there was no cover within fifty feet on either side. He’d be gunned down before he took three steps.

“
I know it won’t change anything if I tell you I’m sor—”

Another shot split the night. The bullet zipped past Jeff’s ear, sounding like an angry hornet before it plunked into the lake behind him.

Jeff turned to one side, hoping to make a smaller target. Maybe Ben hadn’t reloaded recently … maybe he’d run out of bullets, teasing him like this.

“
It’s way fuckin’ too late for apologies, Jeff.” Ben said, still using a low, even tone of voice that sounded perfectly rational. “When my brother died, do you know it killed my mother, too?”

“
No, I—”

Another shot rang out. The bullet grazed Jeff’s left shoulder, tugging on his raincoat like someone behind him trying to get his attention.

“
Shut up! I’m talking!” Ben screamed, and again his voice echoed in the night. Then he continued in his low, perfectly calm voice again. “She went into a really bad depression. Can’t you fuckin’ blame her? Her son was dead! She started drinking heavily, and then … then she killed herself a year later. On the anniversary of Jimmy’s death, actually.”

“
I didn’t know th—”

Another shot, and this one hit Jeff’s right arm, just above the elbow. He spun to one side thinking the bullet hadn’t hit him. Either that, or he had gone into immediate shock and couldn’t feel a thing. His left hand was shaking as he reached up and felt
the tear in his raincoat, but there was no blood … no wound.

Good,
he thought as a sour taste flooded his mouth.
I don’t want to feel it when I die.

“
I got Mike and Tyler and Fred and that bastard Evan because I couldn’t get that son of a whore Mark Bloomberg before he fucking died.”

Jeff started to say something but caught himself, knowing all it would earn him would be another shot that—this time—might not miss this time. He stared at Ben.

“
A heart attack!” Ben said. “He died of a fucking heart attack! At his age?” Again, his voice rose to a high pitch, but then it immediately dropped low again. “So it’s down to you and me, and if I’ve counted right, there are two bullets left in my gun. One for you … and one for me.”

“
You don’t want to do this.”

“
How do you know?”

Ben stopped his slow, steady advance and raised the gun, this time taking careful aim at Jeff. His hand was steady as he drew a bead, but before he fired—from behind Ben—Jeff saw a flurry of motion. He cringed, waiting for the muzzle flash and the sound that would reach his ears only after he was dead. But the motion at the top of the hill became clearer. For a flickering second, Jeff felt a surge of hope.

A car had appeared at the top of the hill. Its headlights were off, but it was rolling slowly forward, its tires crunching on the gravel as it came.

“
You don’t want to kill me, Ben,” Jeff said, hoping to distract Ben. “Honest to God. You don’t.”

“
No. Honest to God I
do
,” Ben said, his flat tone of voice now sounding all but dead. Nothing was going to stop him … nothing except … maybe … that car at the top of the hill.

Jeff froze where he stood. It was too late to run or hide, but he shifted his weight to one side and dropped to his knees, looking past Ben just as the car reached the crest and started rolling down the slope toward them.

Jeff narrowed his eyes, praying that Ben wouldn’t hear the tires on the gravel until it was too late. He coiled up, getting ready to leap to the side and make a run for it.

The car grew huge against the night sky as it reached the tipping point and then, moving forward, started to gather momentum on the down slope. Jeff wanted to keep talking as loud as he could to keep Ben distracted, but Ben suddenly wheeled around when the car was less than twenty feet from him.

The night exploded with two flashes as Ben fired twice at the oncoming car. There was a shattering of glass and a loud buzzing sound as the bullets ricocheted off into the night.

It didn’t do any good.

The car was moving too fast now, and Ben didn’t have enough time to get out of its path. Jeff heard and felt a loud snap in his knees when he jumped out of the car’s path. He hit the ground hard, twisting his ankle on the uneven ground. Then he went down, wincing with pain, but he watched what happened next, seeing every detail as if the world was moving in slow motion.

The car’s headlights came on, filling the night with a blinding, white glare. The twin beams pegged like searchlights Ben as he scrambled to get out of the way. Before he could, Jeff heard a loud thump and then saw Ben go down underneath the front bumper. The car heaved heavily to one side as it rolled over him, and there was a loud crunching sound of bones breaking punctuated by a short yelp that ended with a short, watery gurgle.

Jeff watched as the headlights shined out across the lake, lighting up the swirling mist with a near-supernatural glow. In the twisted strands of fog, indistinct figures shimmered and weaved above the headlight beams.

The car reached the end of the ramp, slowing down only when it plunged into the water. With a huge splash, fans of foam flew up into the sky from both sides of the car. Then, still rolling forward on the launch ramp, it went under. The headlights glowed for a moment under the water and then winked out silently, plunging the night into a dense darkness that v
ibrated with weird energy.

He’s dead! … He’s gotta be dead!

Jeff got up stiffly and hobbled over to the motionless figure
sprawled on the ground. He pried the gun from the dead hand and tossed it aside. Then he knelt down, leaning close to check the damage.

The tires had flattened Ben’s chest. His eyes bulged from his head, two huge orbs that glistened with a weird iridescence. Thick streams of blood, as black as ink, ran from his mouth and nose. A wheezing, bubbling sound of air escaped from his crushed lungs. His left leg was twitching so badly the sneaker he was wearing flipped off.

Down by the lake, the car was still moving forward, much slower now as it sank off the end of the launch ramp. It took a long time before it registered on Jeff that someone must be in that car.

* * *

Jeff hardly noticed the stinging cold as he ran down to the lake and dove in. A stream of bubbles was rising and breaking on the surface as waves lapped against the shore. In the dark, it was all but impossible to see who—if anyone—was in the car. After treading water for a second or two, Jeff took a deep breath and dove.

He couldn’t see a thing underwater, and he found the car only by accident when he slammed into it. His hands were so numb they were almost useless as he felt around for the driver’s door. It wasn’t long before his lungs were starved for oxygen. Feeling as though it was a cowardly thing to do, he placed both feet underneath him on the roof of the car and kicked off, propelling himself back to the surface.

I’m gonna die if I go back down there,
he th
ought, but an instant later, he drew in another breath and dove.

This time he landed on the hood of the car. From there, it was easy enough to find the driver’s door. The car was still sending out streams of bubbles that broke across his face. He hoped there was an air pocket inside the car where he could get more air before he tried to drag the driver—whoever he was—out of the car and up to the surface.

One of Ben’s shots had shattered the windshield, and the car was filling up fast with water. If the person in there was still alive—if one of the bullets hadn’t already killed him—they just might have a chance.

Jeff found the door. Bracing both feet on the car frame, he triggered the latch and pulled back as hard as he could. There was an amazing amount of resistance, almost too much for him. He was about to give up and swim back to the surface when the door slowly yielded. Just about out of air, he reached inside and felt around until the driver’s hand brushed against his face. For a terrifying instant, he thought the person was already dead, but then the fingers clasped onto his forearm and squeezed.

Jesus! … He’s alive!

Reaching into the pitch-black interior of the car, Jeff wound his arms around the person. The body flopped in his arms without resistance, feeling much lighter than he’d expected. Jeff panicked when the grip on his forearm relaxed, but he got his feet beneath him, pushed off the car, and kicked hard, swimming for the surface.

His lungs were on fire. The weight of body was weighing him down, but he struggled until his head broke the surface. The rain was still pouring down, and when he threw back his head and inhaled, his mouth filled with as much water as air. Rolling onto his side, he angled his body so the driver’s head was also above the surface. White-capped waves washed over them. By the way the body hung loosely in his arms, Jeff
was positive his rescue attempt had been in vain.

Maybe I’m a goner, too,
he thought as he looked at the shore.

It wasn’t far away, but Jeff was convinced he cou
ldn’t make it back to land. His strength was fading fast, but as much as he tried to prepare himself mentally for death, his body fought against the waves as he struggled toward shore. His grip on the person kept slipping, and he had to readjust it time and again, but he kept swimming until—-somehow … miraculously—his foot scraped the bottom of the lake.

He couldn’t believe he’d made it. Had he imagined feeling solid ground under his feet? He didn’t know or care. He just kept moving forward until his other foot touched something solid. It was the underwater portion of the cement launch ramp.

Sputtering and shivering, Jeff dragged the all but lifeless body out of the water and lowered him gently to the ground. He turned the unconscious man’s head to one side to keep the rain off it, and as he did, he saw who it was.

“
Jesus,” he whispered.

He had no idea how Evan Pike had made it back to the mainland or into the car. He was too far gone to think about it or care.

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, after a tremendous struggle to carry the unconscious man up the hill, Jeff and Evan were sitting in Evan’s car with the engine running and the heater on full blast. Evan sat behind the steering wheel, and Jeff was slumped in the passenger’s seat. Rain rattled against the roof and bounced off the hood.

Jeff had no idea how long it had taken him to get Evan to his car and get him inside. The night h
ad an elastic quality that kept stretching and bending.

Shouldn’t it be dawn by now?
he a
sked himself as he rolled his head to the right and looked out the side window.

Maybe this storm’s so intense it’s blocking out any hint of daylight.

He glanced at the illuminated dial of the clock on the dashboard but couldn’t believe it was accurate.

How could it be only one o’clock in the morning?

No goddamned way!

Both he and Evan were shivering in spite of the blast of warm air that filled the car and steamed the windows, erasing the night outside.

“
You gonna live?” Jeff asked, rolling his head against the headrest and looking at his friend.

Evan’s eyes were closed, and he looked for all the world like he was dead. The only hint of life was the faint stirring of his chest, rising and falling as he breathed. His face was as white as bone; his lips were a bruised purple that made him look like he’d been drinking grape juice. Jeff had not doubt he didn’t look any better than Evan.

“
You with me, bud?” he asked, giving Evan a feeble poke that made his head loll from side to side. “Don’t punk out on me now. Not after what I’ve been through to save your sorry ass.”

“
My sorry ass?” Evan said in a low, choking gargle. “Who saved … whose … sorry ass?”

“
Okay. Maybe you got me there.”

Jeff chuckled and then took a deep breath as he settled his head against the headrest again. He tried to ignore the pain that made every muscle and joint ache at the slightest motion. It felt like he was being torn apart by some incredible torture device that was grinding his bones to powder.

“
I can’t believe you ran my car into the lake,” Jeff said after a while. “It’s gotta be fuckin’ destroyed.”

“
Yours was closest to the ramp,” Evan said weakly, not bothering to open his eyes. “I’m surprised neither one of you heard me when I broke the side window to get inside. That’ll teach you to lock your car.”