Kail is scary as fuck, but he’s also my best bet to go forward with this investigation into Dad’s death. Calling it an investigation is pompous. More like poking about and seeing what moves. FAFO? I think…I think, tonight has been the FO phase.
So, am I just going to let him go wherever he’s going and do nothing but stay?
My neck is sore to touch, I’ve aches in my back, and bruising will no doubt come. A shotgun waits in the car. Wherever Kail is going to bury those guys, it won’t be nearby.
Adrenalin is riding me, and I hold up one visibly trembling hand. I’m. If I’m doinganything, then I need to go do it, right now. Suck it up, Buttercup. Your prince is not riding down the hill on a stallion.
Prince? I giggle.Subconscious, was that supposed to mean Kail? I mean WTF.
I roll my shoulders to test what bits are still functioning, heave in a deeper breath, then I hear him return, going in the direction of where body two awaits. After sneaking into the garage and wriggling back the sliding window, I spy on Kail as he leaps the rear fence easily, despite carrying the body, then sprints…fucking sprints up the slope toward the forested part of the mountain.
That’s difficult terrain. I chew over the notion of following him.
One year, my friends and I roamed through there on weekends when our parents thought we were elsewhere. We did stupid things and had fun, and succeeded, mostly, in not getting lost.
I can do this.
I go to the car, retrieve the shotgun, and thank my luck that I’m already wearing long pants with shoes I can hike in. The light is still good enough to follow him, if I’m quick and careful. I just need to make sure I don’t trip and blow my head off.
Wherever he aims to take them, he must shuttle two bodies, and that will slow him down.
Doable.
I stop to grab a flashlight as I jog through the house, then exit out the back, carefully climb over my fence, and head upslope, following his trail. It’s not difficult because he’s doubling back constantly, and I catch flashes of him above me,though as night creeps in under the tall trees, I’m feeling in dire need of that flashlight.
I stop to text the McCluskers, then muse on what to say. If I say nothing they might come looking and see signs of a struggle. I’m not comfortable getting the cops involved. Not yet.
HAILEY: Got home OK. See you tomorrow.
I hope that is the right thing to do.
In another twenty minutes the need for light is even more crucial. How far is he going?
Falling down a hole or a slope is possible. If I use the light, he might see he’s being followed. How is he still running? Does he have night vision?
“Maybe the fucker is a bat,” I murmur and fumble the small LED light from my pocket, looping the lanyard over my wrist. This thing is super bright and might light up the mountain enough to show half the town someone is up here. “Should I?” I whisper, finger toying with the switch.
“No.”
The voice is male and behind me. I gasp, swinging to see if it’s?—
He pushes me forward onto a large tree trunk, plucks away the shotgun, and holds me there. His strength is impossible to fight; it’s like resisting a truck. The hand splayed on my back is swapped for a knee wedging onto me. He pulls the flashlight from my fingers. I can move my arms, but reaching backward to try to grab his leg only gets my wrists trapped. Something is looped on them and tightened. My face is sideways, my cheek pressed onto bark. Luckily, the branches are higher.
I blink, groaning in the hope that’ll get me a less rough treatment.
“Kail? Kail!”
Hasto be Kail. He says nothing. A cloth is placed over my head and tied there. Then I’m spun to sit on my ass and one ankle is zip tied to what must be a tree root.
“I’ll be back.”
“Oh fuck. It is you.” Relief swoops in on me. Thank god. I was getting worried it was not my frankenstruct…whatever he is. Tying me up does not say friend.
Twigs snap as he departs, leaving me helpless and fastened to a tree, in the middle of the forest on a mountain above Revenant, at night. With a bag on my head.
My inhalation sucks it onto my mouth, so I spit it out. “You douchebag asshole…”
More crunching occurs, coming closer.
