Freak (32 page)

“But, still, you—”

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about it, okay? What happens to me is not your concern.”

“Can you at least tell me where we’re going?”

Abby turned up the radio. They were done talking for now.

*     *     *

The drive was long and bumpy, and it wasn’t long before Sheila’s back was aching from whatever sharp object was digging into her. She was nauseated from breathing recycled hot air over and over again. Beside her in the dark, Marianne’s raspy breathing had turned even more shallow. It didn’t sound good. In fact, it was beginning to slow down. And her friend had stopped responding. She wasn’t even moaning anymore.

Sheila screamed as loud as she could.

The van slowed down and Sheila felt them move from a smooth, paved road over to a gravel shoulder. They came to a full stop. The music shut off.

She heard Abby get out of the van, slamming the door behind her. The crunch of footsteps, again on gravel. A second
later, the back door flew open and the blanket was ripped off Sheila’s face. The cool night air felt glorious, and Sheila inhaled deeply while she could.

“Seriously, what the
fuck
is wrong with you?” Abby said, standing over them, her beautiful face the picture of exasperation.

Now that the van’s back door was open, Sheila could see there were no other lights around them. No passing cars, no streetlamps, no lights from houses, nothing. In the silence, she heard the faint chirping of crickets. They were in the middle of nowhere.

“Marianne isn’t doing well.” Sheila did her best to sound stern.

“And I care about this why?”

“She’s not part of this. She’s sick. You need to let her go.”

Abby took a seat on the back edge of the van’s floor, sitting so that her legs were stretched out onto the road’s shoulder. She used one hand to massage the side of her neck. “She’s Jerry’s wife,” she said dismissively. “And I have a bone to pick with Jerry. He is, after all, the reason I got thrown in jail in the first place.”

“You slit his throat.”

“He left me no choice.” Abby’s voice was getting loud.

“Abby, please.” Sheila softened her tone. “Please. Marianne hasn’t done anything to you. She’s not even with Jerry anymore. They split up. There’s no reason to keep her here.”

“Not like you, right?” Abby’s eyes bored into Sheila’s face. “Not like you, who got Ethan killed?”

Sheila closed her eyes briefly, thinking rapidly. “Let’s just drop Marianne off at a hospital. Or at least somewhere where someone can find her and call nine-one-one. If you do that for
her, I promise I will be quiet, I will stop yelling, and I will go wherever you want me to go. But just help her. Please.”

“Aw.” Abby cocked her head, her blue-violet eyes filled with icy amusement. “You guys are BFFs. I don’t think I realized that till just now. How fucking adorable.” She leaned into the van so that her face was directly in front of Sheila’s. The blond hairs from her wig tickled Sheila’s face. “First, let’s be clear about something. You’re coming with me whether you want to or not. This is not a negotiation.”

“Yes, but—”

“I’m still talking.” Abby’s eyes searched Sheila’s face. “You seem to like this chick, God knows why. She’s been nothing but a whiny, crying little bitch since we met. Not like you, who’s been through this before and has stayed pretty calm, I’ll give you that. But clearly you’re worried about your friend and she’s distracting you, and we can’t have that, can we? So here’s an idea. How about I leave her
here
?” Abby gestured at the emptiness around them. “We’re out in the middle of nowhere, in between two bum-fuck towns I can’t even remember the names of. She can stay here, and maybe someone will find her. I’ll do that for you, since you asked so nicely.”

“She won’t make it,” Sheila said, desperate. “She’s going to stop breathing soon, Abby. She won’t be found in time. She needs a hospital.”

“All right then. You’ve made your choice.” Abby pulled something long and black out of the inside of her jacket. It looked like a skinny leather case, and Sheila stared at it in confusion, unable to make sense of exactly what it was. It wasn’t until Abby pulled out something else from
inside
the case that Sheila finally recognized it.

It was fierce, like something out of a movie. Long, slim, supersharp. The blade was perfectly smooth and it gleamed in
the dim light of the van. Abby held it up, caressing it with her finger.

Before Sheila could react, Abby reached forward and stabbed Marianne in the stomach. The motion was quicker and more violent than Sheila had ever imagined it could be. Blood spilled out, some of it landing on Sheila’s hands and torso, and it was horrifically warm. The copper tang of it immediately filled the air.

“There.” Abby wiped her knife on a patch of the van’s carpet before sliding it smoothly back into its case. “Now it’s no longer an issue. Now she’ll die and you’ll have nothing to worry about, and we can move forward. No more screaming or whining or begging, just like you promised.”

Sheila cried silently, hot tears flowing down her temples. She opened her mouth to shriek, but nothing came out. Nothing at all, like in one of those nightmares. The van was a vacuum, sucking the air out of everything.

Abby leaned forward, directly into Sheila’s line of sight. “Are you getting it now, Sheila? I’m not Ethan. I don’t hesitate, and I don’t fuck around. You feeling me now?”

Beside her, Sheila could feel her friend’s body going slack. Abby moved away and reached to close the back door. With all her might, Sheila planted her feet on Marianne’s thighs and kicked out. Marianne rolled out of the van and landed on the gravel shoulder with a sickening thud.

“Dumping the body already?” Abby smiled. “You don’t like getting blood on you? I personally don’t mind it, but of course I understand. Shall we just leave her on the road, then?”

Abby slammed the rear door shut and locked it. A few seconds later she had maneuvered the van off the shoulder and back onto the road. Sheila could hear her humming as she drove.

The air finally came back. Sheila screamed.

Unfazed, Abby turned the music up. A few seconds later, Sheila could hear the younger woman singing again. It was another song Sheila liked, and one she’d no longer be listening to. Assuming, of course, that she somehow survived this, which she no longer believed she would.

The song was an old eighties tune that Sheila had chair-danced to many times while listening to Internet radio in her office.

“Psycho Killer” by the Talking Heads.

As if Abby needed a soundtrack.

“THERE’S NO WAY
to know where they’d be,” Jerry said to Morris on the phone. “The house we thought they’d be in was a dead end.”

“You sonofabitch,” Morris spat in his ear. “This whole thing is your goddamned fault. I hold you personally responsible—”

“I know you do, and so do I,” Jerry said quietly. “And I’m paying for it, okay? So is Annie.”

Morris stopped huffing and puffing long enough to say, “What?”

“Annie’s gone, too.” Jerry couldn’t keep the misery out of his voice. “Maddox has her, too.”

Long silence. Then finally Morris said, “As angry as I might be with you right now—and trust me, I’d kick the shit out of you if I could—I wouldn’t wish this on anybody. I’m sorry.”

“Thank you.”

“Find them.” Morris ended the call.

In the dark car, Jerry turned to Torrance, who was once again driving. They were heading back to Seattle PD, having been called in by the chief of detectives herself. Jerry already knew what was going to happen—they were going to strip him of his temporary consultant’s ID. They were going to pull him away from all this.

Jerry didn’t know how to feel about it. On the one hand,
it was his wife, his Annie, who was somewhere out there, and nobody wanted her found more than he did. But on the other hand, he knew he was too close to the situation. His hysteria would not make for good police work.

“You know I’ll keep you posted about everything. You’ll hear it from me, I promise,” Torrance said, as if reading Jerry’s thoughts.

A helicopter buzzed overhead, its huge searchlights scanning the fields around them. It was one of theirs, looking for Abby. They didn’t think she’d be on foot, and there was clear indication at Cavanaugh’s family house that another vehicle had been there recently. The tire tracks were fresh.

“We’ll find them,” Torrance said as the lights of the helicopter faded into the dark.

“I’m sure we will.” Jerry’s voice was tight. “But the important question is, will we find them before she kills them? She won’t hesitate to do it, Mike. I know this bitch, remember. She’ll just do it, she won’t pause to think it over, she’ll just fucking do it. That’s what I’m scared of.”
Ha
.
Scared
was such a small word to describe what he was feeling right now.

“We’ll find them,” Torrance said again. “Also, maybe you should warn Danny.”

“Why?”

“Maddox liked her, didn’t she? You’d better make sure she doesn’t pay your girl a visit.”

Jerry hadn’t even thought about the potential danger to Danny with Maddox out of prison, and he mentally slapped himself. Reaching for his phone, he pressed five on his speed dial to call Danny’s iPhone. It rang three times before his assistant picked up.

“Hey,” he said, trying not to sound tense. He didn’t want her freaking out. “Just checking in.”

“Everything okay at work?” She sounded breathless, as if she’d run for the phone. “I was surprised to see your number. Are the computers okay? I left a sticky with all the passwords on your—”

“Listen, Abby Maddox has escaped from prison.”

A long silence on the other end. Finally Danny said, “That’s funny. I could have sworn you just said that Abby Maddox escaped from prison.”

“I did. Because she did.”

“Holy shit!”

Jerry couldn’t tell whether it was fear or amazement in Danny’s voice, but he suspected it was a lot of both. “Where are you right now?”

“I’m at home—”

“Alone?”

“No, I’ve got a study group here.”

“Stay home, okay?” Jerry said. “And make sure your friends stay with you. At least until we find out where the hell she is.”

“Jerry. You don’t think . . .”

“I don’t think you’re in any danger.” Jerry’s attempt to sound reassuring was pathetic and he knew it, but he had to try. “Maddox has no reason to come looking for you. You were friends, yes?”

Danny hedged. “Well, I wouldn’t go that far. She seemed to think I was okay.”

“Just watch your back, is all I’m saying.” He kept his voice neutral. “I just wanted to let you know the situation. If, by some small chance, you do hear from her, call the police immediately. Go grab a baseball bat. And then call me. You got that?” He didn’t say anything to her about Annie or Sheila being snatched. What was the point? It would only scare her, and there was nothing she could do about it, anyway.

“Yes,” Danny said.

“Repeat it back to me.”

“Nine-one-one, baseball bat, call you.”

“Good girl.”

“Hey, Jerry,” Danny said. Her voice was shaky now. She sounded spooked. “Be careful, okay? Abby Maddox . . . she’s not one to fuck with, dude.”

“Preaching to the choir, dude,” Jerry said, and disconnected.

THE VAN FINALLY
stopped.

A moment later, Abby’s face loomed over her in the back of the Jeep. White, ethereal, angelic. Angel Face, the media sometimes called her. Ha, right. More like the Angel of Death. There was a syringe in her hand.

“I’m moving you, so I’m going to knock you out.” Abby said. She plunged the needle into the side of Sheila’s neck before she could protest.

By the time Sheila registered the sting, she was out.

*     *     *

She woke up strapped to a gurney. Wait, no, it wasn’t a gurney, it was a portable massage therapy table. There was a doughnut-like cushion underneath the back of her head. And she was freezing because she was completely naked. Abby had stripped her down.

The smell hit her next. Blood, urine, and body odor, all melding together like a disgusting stew. It took her a moment to realize that the smell was emanating from herself, because she’d wet herself. She looked down and saw bloodstains on her chest and legs that had obviously seeped through her clothing. Marianne’s blood. She screamed.

“Enough enough enough,” said Abby’s voice from somewhere behind her. “It’s so annoying, you must realize that. You’re going to give us both a headache.”

Sheila craned her neck to see where Abby was, and finally spotted her. She was approaching the table with a small smile.

“Don’t say it,” Abby said.

“Say what?” Sheila’s voice was raspy.

“You know, the typical cliché question all victims ask when they wake up somewhere strange, otherwise known as,
‘Where am I?
’” Abby sighed. “God, I hate that question.”

“It’s a cliché because most people want to know.” Sheila squirmed but the straps wouldn’t give.

Abby leaned toward her. “Does it really matter?” Her breath was soft and sweet on Sheila’s face.

If I can figure out a way to get out of here, it will definitely matter
, Sheila thought. “Yes, it matters to me.”

“Well, guess what?” Abby’s voice turned flat as she stepped back. “What matters to you doesn’t matter to me. Because I’m not Ethan, you useless cunt. I’m not keeping you alive. I’m not torn by my feelings for you. I’m not
confused
. So let’s be very clear, shall we? I hate you. I’ve always hated you, and you’re in the place where you’re going to die a very painful death.”

Abby’s face loomed over her once again. Sheila twisted violently as the younger woman moved closer. Then she let out another curdling scream.

Abby winced. “Wow. Quite the lungs you’ve got on you. Really, Sheila, the screaming is so irritating. Do I need to stick something in your mouth, or are you going to stay quiet?”

“I’m sorry,” Sheila gasped, her back aching from the strain of pushing against the straps. They were made of canvas and very strong. “I can’t help it.”