Shadow Creek (28 page)

“I don’t know. I always assumed I’d have a whole bunch,” Jennifer confided. “But Evan …” She stopped abruptly. “Sorry.” She hugged her knees, stared at the ground.

Val finished the sentence for her. “Evan doesn’t want more kids.”

“I can understand his reluctance,” Jennifer said quickly. “I really can. He’s older, and he’s been there, done that.”

“But
you
haven’t.”

“No, but … Well, we’ll see. Maybe he’ll change his mind.”

Don’t count on it, Val thought but didn’t say out loud, sensing she didn’t have to. Evan had always been very adamant about not wanting more children. “I like to be your baby,” he’d told her every time she’d broached the subject.

“I probably wouldn’t be a very good mother anyway,” Jennifer said.

“What makes you say that?”

“I don’t have a lot of patience.”

“Really? You strike me as someone who has quite a lot of patience.”

Jennifer laughed, although the sound was far from joyful. “Not according to my sister. She says I’m always on her about something.”

“Well, sisters aren’t necessarily our kindest judges.”

“Do you have any?” Jennifer asked.

“One. Younger. Allison.”

“Mine’s older. Cameron.”

“Are the two of you close?” Val thought she was asking the question as a way of passing the time, time she wouldn’t have to spend worrying about Brianne, so she was surprised to discover she was actually interested in Jennifer’s answer.

“No. We never were. I’m not sure why exactly. We’re just so different, I guess. We always seem to piss each other off. What about you and Allison?”

“We used to be close when we were growing up. Things changed after my father left.”

“Why did he leave?”

“Another woman,” Val said with a wry smile. “Sound familiar?”

Jennifer stared at the ground. “My father has Alzheimer’s,” she said after a pause.

“I’m sorry.” Again Val was surprised to realize that she was.

“So, I guess, in a way, he kind of left us, too.”

Val nodded. “That must be very hard.”

“It is.”

“What about your mom?”

“She’s dead. Yours?”

“She’s working on it.”

Jennifer’s eyes connected with Val’s through the darkness, although she said nothing.

“She drinks,” Val explained without prompting. “A lot. Pretty much all the time, actually.”

“Because of your dad?”

“Maybe in the beginning. But I think it’s too easy to put all the blame on him. It’s a disease. And she had choices. We all have choices.”

Again, the women’s eyes connected.

Which was when they heard the footsteps and saw the figure emerging from the shadows and lurching toward them.

“Hayden?” Val jumped to her feet and rushed toward him, catching him just before he collapsed in her arms. “My God, what happened to you?”

“Is he okay?” Jennifer asked.

“Go get Gary.” Val heard the incipient hysteria in her voice, which pitched it several octaves higher than usual. Even in the dark she could see that Hayden’s cheek was cut and bruised and that his clothes were soaked through and covered with mud. “What happened? Where’s Brianne?”

“What’s going on?” Melissa asked, emerging from her tent.

“Is Brianne back?” asked James, appearing at the same time.

“Can someone please get me some water?” Val asked, brushing flecks of stone and matted hair away from Hayden’s face.

James immediately ducked back into his tent, returning seconds later with a bottle of mineral water. Val lifted it to the boy’s lips, watching him intently as he tried to take a sip.

“Hayden, please, sweetheart, where is Brianne?” Val urged.

“Hayden! Hayden!” his father called as he scrambled toward them, tripping over his feet and almost falling. He collapsed to the ground, taking his son in his arms. “Are you all right? My God, what happened? Who did this to you?”

Hayden stared at his father for several seconds without speaking.

“Is Brianne all right?” Gary spun around. “Where is she?”

“We don’t know. Hayden came back alone,” Val told him. “Please, Hayden. Can you tell us where she is?”

“She’s with that guy,” Hayden finally managed to spit out.

“What guy? You mean Tyler?”

He nodded.

“Tell us what happened,” Gary said as the others drew closer.

Hayden obliged, telling them of Brianne’s attempts to reach Tyler when they were out for their walk. “The connection was bad and she wasn’t sure if she’d gotten through to him. But I overheard her tell him to meet her at the camp’s entrance at midnight. I didn’t want her going out there alone—she doesn’t
have the best sense of direction—so I followed her. I know I should have said something to you,” he told his father.

“What happened then?” Val asked. There was no point in discussing what could have or should have been. All that was important was what had actually taken place.

“He was really late, and I almost had her convinced to come back to the camp when he finally showed up. He’d obviously been drinking …”

“Oh, God.”

“We got into an argument, and that’s when he hit me.”

“He hit you?”

“Next thing I knew, I was waking up by the side of the road.”

“And Brianne?”

“Gone.”

“They left you out there alone?” Jennifer asked.

“Oh, God,” Val said to both father and son. “I’m so sorry.”

“Wait. She’s not back yet?” Hayden asked, the full reality of the situation starting to sink in.

“No. She didn’t say anything to you at all about where they might be going?”

Hayden shook his head, gingerly at first, and then with more conviction. “I don’t think they really had a plan.”

“They probably found a place to park,” Melissa said, “and then it started thundering and lightning, and they decided they’d better stay put and wait it out.”

“The storm stopped an hour ago,” Val reminded her.

“Maybe common sense prevailed and they’re waiting till the moron sobers up before driving back,” James offered.

“Common sense was never Brianne’s strong suit,” Val said. “Oh, God. What if they were in an accident? What if …?”

“Let’s not speculate,” Gary advised.

“But what if …?”
What if … what if … what if?

“It’s okay,” Jennifer said, taking Val in her arms and holding her until she stopped shaking. “She’s okay, Val. Brianne’s a tough cookie. She’s your daughter, isn’t she? Wherever she is, whatever’s happened, she’s going to be fine.”

“SHOULDN’T WE HAVE found the road by now?” Brianne asked, pushing another branch away from her face as she half hopped, half limped after Tyler.

“We’ve only been walking for ten minutes,” Tyler reminded her.

Even with his back to her, she could read the expression on his face. And it wasn’t pretty. He was fed up, and to be honest, she couldn’t blame him. She was being a pain in the ass, and she knew it. The sound of her voice had become as irritating to her own ears as it undoubtedly was to his. But damn it, she was wet, she was cold, she was in considerable pain. And it was all his fault.

No, not just his fault, she amended immediately. Don’t forget that this whole thing was your brilliant idea. And remember—nobody forced you to get into his car. How could she have allowed him to drive off, leaving Hayden unconscious by the side of the road? Please let him be all right, she prayed silently. Please let him have woken up and made his way back to the camp. Damn the consequences. All that mattered was that Hayden was okay. That they would all be okay.

“Surely we’ve gone a mile by now,” she said after several more minutes.

“Are you kidding me? Maybe a quarter of a mile at best.”

“What? Are you joking?”

“Believe me, I’m in no mood for jokes.”

“We’re not even halfway?”

“That’s right.”

“At this rate, we won’t get there till morning.”

“Maybe if you tried walking faster …”

“Maybe if you tried carrying me again …”

He glared at her over his shoulder.

“What? You think I’m too heavy?”

“Under the circumstances, Tinker Bell would be too heavy.”

“You’re saying you think I’m too fat?”

“That’s not what I’m saying.”

“Then what
are
you saying?”

“I’m saying you talk too much.”

“Well, you drink too much,” Brianne countered immediately.

“In case you hadn’t noticed, I sobered up a long time ago.”

“You’re right. I didn’t notice.”

Tyler stopped, spun toward her. “You think you could give me a break? For just a couple of minutes? That’s all I’m asking. It’s not like I’m asking for a little gratitude or anything.”

“Gratitude? You expect me to be grateful? For what, exactly?”

“For coming back, for starters. I didn’t have to, you know.”

“So why did you?”

“I don’t know. I guess because I’m a dickhead. I believe that was the expression you used.” He resumed walking.

“I’m sorry about that,” she said quietly, not moving.

He stopped again, turned back toward her. “What did you say?”

“Nothing.”

“Did I actually hear you apologize?”

“Only for calling you a dickhead.”

“Of course.”

“Not for anything else.”

“Of course not.”

“Everything else was your fault.”

“Of course,” he said again, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Anyway, no biggie. What is it they say? ‘Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.’ ”

“I don’t think that’s true,” Brianne said. “Words do hurt. Sometimes even worse than sticks and stones.”

“Well, I’ve been called a lot worse things than dickhead.”

“Yeah? Like what?”

He laughed. “Oh, no. No way I’m giving you any more ammunition. Come on.” He reached for her hand.

To Brianne’s surprise, she took it, and they proceeded at a snail’s pace for another five minutes. “Are we there yet?” she asked, hoping to sound wistful, maybe even endearing. But what came out was more petulant than playful.

“Probably about halfway.”

Brianne let go of Tyler’s hand, sinking to the ground in defeat.

“What the hell are you doing now?”

“I can’t go any farther. My ankle …”

“It hurts, I know. But you’ve got to at least try, Brianne.”

“I’ve
been
trying. I
am
trying.”

Tyler shook his head, any hint of a smile long gone. “Yeah. You’re trying, all right.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. It doesn’t mean a damn thing. Look. Can we just give it one more go?”

“No. I can’t walk. There’s no way I can manage another half a mile.”

“So, what are you suggesting? That we just stay here and hope somebody stumbles across us?”

“No,” Brianne said. What
was
she suggesting? Did she think her mother was going to magically find and rescue her?

“Then what? There aren’t a lot of alternatives here, Brianne. Either you get up or I go on alone.”

There followed a moment of silence. Then, “I can’t get up. I just can’t.”

Tyler sank down to the wet ground beside her. “Okay, listen. Maybe it’s not such a bad idea if I go on alone. I should be able to reach the road pretty fast from here on my own.”

“Assuming you don’t get lost,” Brianne interrupted.

“Assuming I don’t get lost,” Tyler repeated. “Thank you for that vote of confidence, by the way.”

“Any time.”

“Anyway, hopefully somebody lives in that cottage and I won’t scare them half to death by waking them up in the middle of the night …”

“And you’ll tell them what happened …”

“And they’ll call the authorities …”

“And then you’ll come back for me.”

“And then we’ll come back for you,” Tyler repeated.

“What if there’s nobody home?”

“Then I’ll break in, use the phone, get help …”

“What if you can’t break in? What if there
is
no phone?”

“What if I run into the big bad wolf?” Tyler joked in response.

“This isn’t funny, Tyler.”

“Look. What’s the worst that can happen? Nobody will be home; I won’t be able to break in; I’ll break in and they won’t have a phone. Worst-case scenario: I’ll have hiked there for nothing. So I turn around and come back.”

“You promise? You won’t just leave me here?”

“If I was going to do that, I wouldn’t have come back the first time.”

“Why did you? I’ve been such a bitch.”

“I kind of had it coming, I guess.”

“Yeah, you definitely had it coming.”

He laughed. “I think I should quit while I’m ahead.” He pushed himself up to his full height.

Immediately Brianne started having second thoughts. “I don’t know. Maybe you should just stay here with me.”

“It’s your call,” he told her. “But I can be there and back in less than half an hour.”

“That fast?”

“Okay, maybe an hour, tops.”

“Okay.”

“Okay? As in …?”

“Okay, as in, okay, go before I change my mind.”

“Okay,” he repeated, pushing himself back to his feet. “I’ll be back soon.”

“Hurry,” she called after him, dismayed to realize she’d lost sight of him already. “Shit.” I shouldn’t have let him leave, she thought. “Tyler!” she called out. “Tyler, I changed my mind! Come back!”

But if he heard her, he gave no sign. Nor did he come back.

“Shit,” Brianne said again, sitting absolutely still for what felt like an eternity but was probably closer to five minutes. Finally, exhausted by both the hour and her ordeal, she lay down, curling into a tight fetal ball and closing her eyes against the night, pretending she was wrapped in the safety of her mother’s warm arms, and listening to the leftover drops of rain as they fell from the leaves rustling nearby.

Minutes later, her hand curling around a clump of wet earth, she fell asleep.

N
IKKI WAS LYING IN bed, eyes closed but wide awake, reliving the night’s events and listening to Kenny singing in the shower, when she heard the tapping at her window. At first, she dismissed the noise as the last dying remnants of the storm, helpless branches being buffeted by hostile winds and scratching at the glass in a doomed effort to find shelter. No shelter here, she thought, and smiled, luxuriating in the memory of the final, frantic efforts of their latest victims. Except in those cases, they’d been trying desperately to get out, not in. Still, the results had been the same. There’d been no escape. There’d been no mercy.