Brightside (32 page)

The Boots are trying to tread lightly, just like I told Becky, but those hard heels can’t be silenced.

I clear out my thoughts, focus on the sounds. There’s at least three, maybe four. I assumed there’d be a lot more, but I bet half of them took the other path when the tunnel split. I just wish I could tell if they are walking single file or side by side.

My hand slips into my pocket. I’ve got four more shells. The only problem is there isn’t any cover, so the first round can’t miss.

Inhale slowly. Exhale slowly. Inhale and…hold.

The first Boot comes out. He’s not even looking at me, just marveling at the stars. I wait an extra second to see if another one is going to follow. Sure enough, one Boot does. They’re standing so close I’ll hit them both even if I only aim at one.

I crack off the shot and the kickback slams me into the wall. It fucking kills. I should’ve given myself space, but at least both Boots are on the ground. One’s dead, and the other’s well on his way. I click open the barrel and load two more shells when a bullet rips into the rock by my head. Little jagged shards cut into my neck. My eyes are closed when I start to take aim at the third Boot, but they’re wide open by the time I get the gun parallel to the ground. The next shot tears right through his neck. It looks like his whole head might come clean off, but it stays intact as he falls onto his dead partners.

I load another round and try to be as quiet as possible. I don’t hear any more
bootsteps
. I don’t hear breathing or even someone cocking the hammer. It’s just silent.

I take a quick look back over the edge, see everyone waiting inside the truck. I know they aren’t going to wait much longer so I get down on my knees and crawl towards the ladder. I keep the shotgun aimed for another twenty seconds or so, just in case the last Boot has more patience than the others.

But there’s not a sound. I need to go.

I slide the shotgun down my back, inside my coat, and I use one hand to shove it in the back of my pants and into the crack of my ass. The rungs are cold on my fingers. I start to back up. The rungs are getting slippery, but I know it’s just my sweat. My heart is thumping in my chest. I realize that in the last hour I’ve stood on a high rooftop and jumped out a window, but there’s just something about facing the fall backwards that throws my guts up towards my throat. I keep telling myself just don’t look down.

My ankle throbs, but I keep moving. I’m almost halfway down when the rock next to my face explodes, spraying bits into my eyes and mouth.

Another bullet. But not from above. It came from somewhere off to the left in the distance. My cheeks and eyelids feel like I just dove into a pool of needles. I grip the rung with my right hand, while my left wipes away the little shards in the corner of my eye.

I hear Sara and Danny screaming from below, but I still can’t look down. I turn left and see this twenty-something Ranger
posted up on the hill, the muzzle of his rifle aimed right at me. Palmer, the dickhead Boot, gets out of his car, stands beside him, hands behind his back like he’s watching a tennis match.

Melvin fires his revolver, which has no chance of doing anything except add to the noise, because he’s too far away.

Danny screams for me to hurry and I’m trying, but my ankle keeps giving out and I can only come down with my right foot. I’m halfway down. A hundred feet from the ground.

The next crack of the rifle is almost as loud as the crunching sound the bullet makes as it blasts through my clavicle. My left hand just flies off the rung so now I’m holding on with only my right. I finally look down.

Fuck me…

I force myself to look up, which isn’t any better. The Ranger takes aim, the barrel of that rifle pointed right at my skull. If I don’t move, I won’t even hear the crack. My brains and blood
will just rain down on Sharon’s chosen few.

I try to swing my left arm up to a rung to give me some stability, but all I feel is red-hot pain searing through my shoulder. I can’t even squeeze a fist.

Palmer smiles and cocks his finger at me. The Ranger fires off a shot and I curl my body back under the ladder. The bullet zips by my neck as I slam into the rock. The ladder is all twisted now and I try to flip it back before the Ranger reloads, but my right hand slips. I don’t know how many rungs I try to grab on the way down before I finally get one, my legs wrapping around
the ladder. Everything’s tangled and the shotgun falls and cracks against the rocks below. I force myself to look. Need to know exactly how far I have to fall. It’s at least another fifty feet. I have to drop if he fires again, even if I shatter my legs.

I look out and see the Ranger and Palmer enjoying themselves. But I’m enjoying something, too. Melvin has moved into position.

They don’t see him. The Ranger reloads. Palmer gives him the signal. I see my left leg is over the rung, meaning even if I let go, I’m just going to flip upside down. I try to pull out my leg, but it’s impossible with only one hand. My left is just hanging at my side.

Another shot fired. Then another.

I squeeze my eyes, wait for death, but it never comes. I finally peek and see Palmer and his Ranger both slumped over, both dead.

Sheriff Melvin is making his way back towards the truck.

My right hand is starting to lose its grip, but my left leg is still over the rung. I pull up with everything I’ve got and jerk my leg up and free myself. I take a second to catch my breath. It’s just fifty feet. I can do this. It’s slow and painful, but I’m coming down rung by rung. Only twenty feet to go.

I take a small break, look out at Danny and Sara, expecting to see smiles or them running towards me, but everyone is just staring up. It’s not good.

Six Boots all poised at the edge of the mineshaft. Each one armed and pointing at a different target. Sheriff Melvin is running, but he’s still too far away.

I just start to laugh. Why I thought the worst was over, I haven’t a clue.

“Fucking do it!” I yell. “Just fucking shoot me!”

Then comes a low rumble. A stampede of a hundred feet mixed with wild howls. It just keeps getting louder and louder until the entire night is filled with this primal roar.

The Boots come flying off the ledge. Arms and legs flail against the laws of nature. They pass me one by one, each smacking like slabs of meat on the rocks below.

I look out at Danny and Sara. I’ve never seen them so happy. Then the ladder starts to shake and I look up, see a pair of feet coming down. I lean out and see more feet following.

Brightsiders
climbing down from hell above.

I have no choice but to get moving. I drop two rungs at a time, knowing if I don’t I’m going to get kicked off because they’re all coming. I drop the last few feet and rip more tendons in my ankle, but Danny and Sara are there to help me to the truck. Sharon’s yelling at the driver to go, but he gets out and runs over to us.

I finally see his face, and I can’t decide whether to hug him or punch him. He smiles and thinks,
We’ll have time for both, Joe.

Dad tells Danny to grab my legs. “Come on, we have to get him in.” They fling me into the back of the truck, crammed in with the others.

Brightsiders
run for the truck, but the roll-up door clangs down. They bang on the back and beg to be let in, but their cries fade as we pull away. Their chances aren’t good on foot, but they have ten hours of darkness. If they split up and hide, some should slip away.

Sara eases me into her arms, careful of my shoulder. She kisses my head and tells me not to close my eyes, that I have to stay awake.

I think about the ones we left behind, lost and wandering this desert valley. Most are probably cursing us, but as I look around, I know we couldn’t have fit more than one or two. The others would have flipped the truck, torn us to shreds.

I pray they see the sunrise, that they live long enough to tell the tale to their grandkids. I pray the
Brightsiders
that stayed behind aren’t punished for our sins. I hear my prayers echoing in the minds of everyone around me. We’re the lucky ones. Sharon’s special club.

But I realize it’s my club too as Becky slides her foot against mine and Sara pulls me into her arms.

Sara whispers, “You did good.”

I nod and try to tell myself she’s right, but I can’t stop thinking about Rachel and Wendell and Krystal and...

“
Shh
,” Sara says. She’s pointing at Danny, sitting by the door, eyes closed, humming along to the sound of the tires. He’s not thinking about anything, just humming. His mind as tranquil as the farthest reaches of space.

I don’t even realize I’m laughing, but I can’t stop. My head flops back and Sara has to move out of the way.

The others stare at me like I’ve lost my mind. Maybe I have, I don’t know, but I’m not alone.

Sara’s chest is shaking into my back. She’s trying to control it, but I hear her giggle. It spreads around the truck.

Becky starts to ask what’s so funny, but it takes her too. She covers her face and throws her head into Danny’s arm. He snorts and what started as a little stream is now a raging river. All of us doubled-over, wiping our tears. Cackling like maniacs. And no one has any idea why. All we know is that right now there’s not one single thought in this truck.

For once, we’re actually free.

A
CKNOWLEDGMENTS

I owe special thanks to the following people
:

Tom Spanbauer and Michael Sage R
icci, who
taught me to believe in my writing and embrace my true voi
ce. I will forever be grateful.

Anthony Szpak, the genius editor I plan on working with for as long as he’ll have me. Every
time someone tells me they ca
n’t put down
Brightside,
I feel the need to credit Anthony. He’s g
reat at understanding what I’m
attempting to do then working his mag
ic until that’s what I’m doing.

My classmates at UCLA Extension Writers
’
program an
d the dedicated readers who
suffered through early versions of
Brightside
. Your input has been invaluable and I h
ope the wait has been worth it.

My wonderful wife, Jen, for her constant support and unwavering love.

To all of the people who showed support early on and let me know what Brightside meant to them.

“Wow!!!! I was gripping the couch as I read the last chapter...I felt like I couldn't read fast enough. Brightside is absolutely amazing!!!!” Olivia Hillcoat

“My faith has been restored, great story tellers are still alive! Brightside grabbed me from the first page and kept me to the end.” Laura L.C. Williams

“It was an amazing exhilarating book that I was not able to put down. Filled with twists and turns and horrible sadistic things…” Gerardo Aguirre “Jerry”

“I'd recommend this book to anyone! Amazing thriller that will keep you engaged to the very end!” Shari Lindsay

“The tension builds with every risky encounter with another thought thief until you're frantically churning through pages to reach the ending - which comes not with a whimper but a wailing scream.” Stephanie Heath Price

“An excellent book on all levels. It tapped into many feelings and emotions… so many real truths pertaining to real life.”  Marie
Hensche

“Truly couldn’t put it down and didn’t want it to end. Page after page of suspense.” Suzette Morris

"I really enjoyed not only the story but the idea of thought readers and how that would change communication and life." Rolando Delgado III

“I couldn't put it down, I always had to read it no matter what." Zachary King

“All I can say is INCREDIBLE!!! The style and flare make the material impossible to put down.” Liz Ann Levesque

“Darker than Dean Koontz.” Nancy White

“Most exciting, thrilling conclusion of any book I’ve ever read. I found myself racing to the finish.” Michael Tullius – (My dad. The coolest review I’ll ever get.)

The entire Tullius clan.

Jason Stanley

Eugene Inozemcev

Ian Vollmer

Andy Birskeugh

John Holland

Glenn
Cantillo

Krisserin Canary

Karl Dominey

Anthony Caso

Brian Esquivel

Dan Wills

Mattie
Leto

Lorraine Gonzalez

Evan Scott

Richard King

Cheyann Reagan

Houston Stout

Monique Johnson

Brandie Light

Sabrina Lee

Chris
Zanderholm

Joe Worden

Darryl
MarcAurele