JACK KILBORN ~ AFRAID (20 page)

Just a little longer, just a little longer, just
…

Mrs. Montague stopped struggling.

Jessie Lee shook with effort not to breathe. Bright motes appeared before her eyes even though they were closed.

The footsteps receded, out the shower entrance, back into the boys’ locker room.

Jessie Lee sucked in a breath, then removed her hand from Mrs. Montague.

Her teacher’s lifeless eyes stared, accusing.

I … killed her.

Jessie Lee told herself she didn’t have a choice. They both would have died if they’d been found. Plus, Mrs. Montague was practically dead anyway.

Right?

A sob erupted from Jessie Lee, a long, hard sob that gained in volume until it became a scream.

She continued to scream until the footsteps came rushing back. And it turned out they didn’t belong to Taylor, after all.

“Hello, missy.”

“Oh, please … please help me …”

Jessie Lee reached for the figure over the wall of the dead.

The figure reached back—with a stun gun.

J
osh pushed the Roadmaster to 50 mph, which was as fast as he dared on County Road JJ, the only road in and out of Safe Haven. Like many northern Wisconsin roads it boasted knots of turns and hills, all penned in by the woods. Deer leapt out of the tree line on a regular basis, and hitting one bigger than a hundred pounds could prove fatal to more than just the animal.

Josh snatched a look sideways. Duncan and Fran sat in the front seat with him. Fran now wore jeans and a sweater, both too large for her, and her thick blond hair had been tied back with a bright red scrunchie. Duncan’s attire fit better—jeans and a T-shirt from a boy his age. The clothes were loaners from a neighbor down the street. They hadn’t been home, but Fran watched their house when they went on vacation and knew they kept a spare key under the doormat. She was sure they’d understand.

Prior to dressing, Josh had bandaged Duncan’s leg wound. A pellet had stung him, leaving a bleeding welt. Josh didn’t think there were any lodged inside, but an x-ray would show for sure.

Fran’s injuries were harder to dress, especially without anesthetic. That psychopath Taylor had bitten off one of her toes and chewed much of the skin off another. Josh cleaned the wounds, taped gauze around them, and recommended Fran leave her foot shoeless. Fran met him halfway; she wore borrowed open-toe sandals.

Josh tried his cell again. Still no signal. He should be getting one soon, as he got closer to Shell Lake. They’d attempted to use the neighbor’s phone to call 911, but repeated attempts resulted only in a busy signal. It didn’t matter. Josh estimated they were ten minutes away from the hospital.

Though the evening had dished up countless horrors for all of them, the mood in the car was upbeat. As if they were heading for a carnival, or on vacation, rather than to a hospital and the authorities. Josh guessed their spirits were high because each of them felt ridiculously lucky to be alive.

“There’s Mystery Lake,” Duncan said, pointing as they passed. “Dad and I used to go there to catch bass. Do you know why it’s called Mystery Lake?”

Josh shook his head. “Tell me.”

“Because when they first named it, they couldn’t tell how deep it was. This was before depth finders. It’s deeper than Big Lake McDonald, even though it’s only thirty acres big.”

“How deep is it?”

“Over eighty feet. I bet there are some really big walleye and bass in there. Do you fish?”

“Only every single day I can.”

“Baitcast or spincast?”

Josh smiled. The kid knew his stuff. “Spincast, mostly. I use baitcast for muskie.”

“How big was your biggest muskie?”

“Thirty-two pounds, twelve ounces.”

“Wow! You use a spinner? Bucktail?”

“Muskie Jitterbug, frog color. The old wooden one. I think muskies like wood instead of plastic because it isn’t as hard to chomp down on. That gives you an extra fraction of a second to set the hook before they spit it out.”

Duncan leaned closer to Josh, pulling out of his mother’s protective hug.

“Will you take me muskie fishing?”

“Sure. I’ll take you and your mom.”

Duncan made a face. “Mom doesn’t like to fish.”

“Mom
does
like to fish.” Fran tousled Duncan’s hair. “She likes sitting on a boat, casting into the water. Mom just doesn’t like to
catch
fish.”

“It freaks her out,” Duncan explained. “Whenever she gets a bite she screams and hands me or Dad the pole. But we haven’t gone fishing since Dad died. When will you take us?”

“We can talk about that later.” Fran suddenly became cool. “Josh is a busy man. Very busy.”

Josh winced. Fran was giving him a dig because he never called her for another date. They’d gone out only a few times, but Josh had fled from the casual relationship before it developed into something deeper.

“Fran, about that. I owe you an explanation.”

He waited for Fran to say,
“No, you don’t.”
She didn’t. He went on.

“I told you about Annie before.”

“Who’s Annie?” Duncan had shuffled even closer to Josh, their legs now touching.

“She was the woman I was going to marry, but she got really sick. Before she died, she made me promise something.”

“What was it?”

“She made me promise that I’d live a long life.”

Josh pictured the hospital scene in his mind, holding Annie’s hand, her last wish that he wouldn’t die young like she had. He felt his eyes well up.

“That sounds like a big promise,” Duncan said.

Josh cleared his throat. “It was. And I took it very seriously. But then I became a fireman and planned on becoming a paramedic. I wanted to move to Madison, or Milwaukee. Someplace where I could make a difference.”

“But you make a difference here in Safe Haven,” Duncan said.

“How many fires have there been in Safe Haven? Well, before tonight?”

“None.”

“Exactly, none. So I wanted to go to a bigger city, where I could really help people. Save some lives. But because I made that promise, I decided I would stay here.”

“When was this?”

“About a year before I met you and your mom. And I kept my promise to Annie, I didn’t go to the big city. But I realized that was wrong. I wasn’t happy. I needed to go someplace else, someplace where I could do some good. So I started taking paramedic classes, and as soon as I finish I’m going to move out of Safe Haven.”

“Is that why you stopped dating Mom? Because you were leaving?”

“That’s why.”

“Mom said it was because you didn’t know a good thing when you saw it.”

Josh glanced at Fran, who was trying to control a smirk. He said, “Sometimes we know good things, Duncan, but we run away from them anyway.”

“I think—JOSH!”

Josh reacted instantly, slamming on the brakes, his hand shooting out in front of Duncan so the child didn’t pitch forward. The Roadmaster fishtailed, tires screeching, and then skidded to a stop on the gravel shoulder. Josh stared at the road, wondering what animal he’d almost hit. A possum? Raccoon?

Whatever it was, it hopped onto the hood and screeched, making all three of the car’s occupants jump in their seats.

“It’s … a monkey!” Duncan said.

A small, cinnamon-colored monkey, no more than a few pounds. It walked up to the windshield, knocked on it, and waved.

Duncan clapped his hands together. “That is so cool!”

Woof stuck his head over the back of Josh’s seat and woofed at the monkey. The monkey began to hoot, sounding a lot like an owl. Woof’s ears went up, and he began to howl, low-pitched and earnest. The animals continued this off-tune duet until Fran told Woof to sit down. The dog licked her face and complied, curling up into a ball on the back seat. The monkey clapped its hands, apparently pleased with the performance.

Duncan scooted forward, putting his hands on the dashboard. “We need to catch him.”

“That’s not a good idea, Duncan.” Fran rolled up her side window, even though it was barely open a crack. “Monkeys bite. And they carry diseases.”

“But look, Mom! He’s got a collar! He belongs to someone. I bet he’s lost.”

The monkey nodded his head, like he was agreeing with the boy. Duncan poked Josh on the shoulder.

“What do you think, Josh? Should we help him?”

Josh didn’t know of anyone in town who kept a monkey or any place in the area that sold them. Perhaps some tourist had lost him during summer vacation. Ultimately, it didn’t matter where the monkey came from. They had more pressing things to do than chase someone’s missing pet.

“I think we should leave him here, Duncan. Maybe his owner is nearby, looking for him.”

“But you said you wanted to help people. He needs our help. He’s all alone out here.”

Josh looked at Duncan and felt his will bend.

“Okay, we’ll help. I’ll check to see if he’s tame. Wait in the car.”

If the evening hadn’t been surreal enough, chasing a monkey put a nice capper on everything. Josh exited the vehicle and closed the door behind him, gently to avoid the loud noise. He smiled at the monkey and slowly held out his hand, feeling more than a little ridiculous.

“Hey, little fella. My name is Josh. I’m not going to hurt you.”

The monkey walked up to Josh, stuck out his own hand, and gripped Josh’s finger.

He wants to shake hands,
Josh thought, amazed. He complied, keeping the motion easy and deliberate. The monkey then hopped onto Josh’s arm.

Josh stiffened. His first inclination was to shake the creature off, as he would any strange animal that latched on to him. But this monkey didn’t appear hostile. If anything, it seemed completely at ease. Josh kept still while it climbed up to his shoulder. Then it sat there, tiny hands running through Josh’s hair.

“I think he’s tame!” Josh heard Duncan yell through the car door.

Josh stood there for a moment. The monkey made no attempt to bite his ear off and didn’t seem sick or lethargic. Josh glanced at Duncan’s face, which had lit up to 120 watts.

“He seems safe,” Josh said to Fran. “But I won’t bring him in the car unless you say it’s okay.”

Duncan spun on Fran and began hitting her with mile-a-minute begging. Josh watched Fran sigh.

“Okay. But only until we locate his owner. And if he gets uppity, he goes.”

Fran received a big hug from her son, and then Duncan was opening up Josh’s door.

Josh sat down carefully, trying not to jostle the primate. Before he’d gotten halfway into the car, the monkey had leapt off his shoulder and into Duncan’s lap.

“Easy, Duncan,” Josh warned. “Don’t try to grab him. Let him get comfortable with you.”

The monkey held out a hand, just as he had with Josh. Duncan took it.

“Pleased to meet you. I’m Duncan.”

After a customary shake the monkey reached out for Fran. She grasped his tiny monkey paw with two fingers and introduced herself. He pumped her hand up and down. Fran’s laughter filled the car, sweet and musical. Josh grinned.

“He’s got a tag on his collar,” Duncan said. “His name is Mathison.”

Upon hearing his name, Mathison chattered in an obviously social manner. It sounded like a bird chirping. This prompted Woof to stick his nose over the seat for a sniff.

“Be good, Woof,” Duncan commanded. “He’s our friend.”

Mathison extended a hand to the dog. When it wasn’t shaken, he patted Woof on the head. Woof apparently decided the proceedings weren’t that interesting, because he withdrew and went back to sleep.

“Mathison is a New World monkey,” Duncan said. “We studied them in school. They come from South America. You can tell because he has a tail. I think he’s a cappuccino.”

“That’s capuchin,” Fran gently corrected. “And it looks like he’s got a scar on his head.”

Fran moved to touch it, and Mathison screeched at her, batting her hand away.

“Sensitive little guy.”

“I bet he’s hungry,” Duncan said. “Capuchin monkeys eat fruit and bugs. We should stop someplace.”

Josh marveled at Duncan’s resilience. Earlier he’d been shot at by his babysitter and almost burned alive. Children were remarkable. Josh and Annie had talked about having kids. If things had turned out differently, he would have wanted one like Duncan.

Josh started the car, checked his rearview, and then pulled back onto JJ. The turnoff onto the main highway was in a mile or two. Then, on to the ER. Josh wondered what would be open this late where he could get some monkey food. A gas station, probably. Pick up some peanuts, or raisins, or maybe fresh fruit. There was a Farm and Fleet that sold livestock feed. Maybe they would have—

“Thank God.”

Fran pointed to the road ahead. Josh saw the blinking red and blue lights in the distance. Lots of them. He cut his speed, waiting for them to approach.

Oddly, they stayed still.

“Why aren’t they coming?” Duncan asked.

Josh didn’t know, and he didn’t like it. He slowed down even further, then had to brake. Both lanes were blocked off with orange traffic cones and neon-yellow barrels. Josh pulled up to them and noticed two rows of steel stinger spikes on the asphalt, extending out into the woods on either side of the road. Josh had watched enough TV to know that police used the spikes to blow tires during high-speed chases.

Josh gazed beyond the roadblock. Parked fifty yards ahead were four police cars, several army Humvees, and an honest-to-God tank.

“DO NOT GET OUT OF YOUR VEHICLE! TURN AROUND AND HEAD BACK IN THE DIRECTION YOU CAME FROM!”

“Why do they want us to go back?” Duncan asked. He scooted closer to Josh again.

“I have no idea, Duncan.”

Josh reached for the door handle. Fran grabbed his arm.

“Maybe you shouldn’t do that, Josh.”

“What are they going to do? Shoot me?”

He opened the door and three shots punched through his driver’s-side window. The megaphone boomed again.

“STAY IN YOUR VEHICLE AND TURN AROUND!”

Josh’s pants were peppered with tiny square bits of glass. He noticed his hands were shaking. Next to him Fran and Duncan were ducking down, covering their heads. Mathison had jumped into the back seat, where he and Woof huddled together on the car floor.