Jodi Thomas - Twisted Creek

Flipping on his light, he saw the younger agent lying on his back, almost as if he were asleep. Only sleeping men don’t have blood dripping out of them.

Luke knelt and moved his hands over Nathan’s chest, smearing warm, sticky blood as he checked for wounds.

One bullet had caught Nathan high on his left arm. By the time Luke tied a handkerchief around it, blood had completely stained the white cotton red.

Nathan had taken another hit on the vest dead center of his chest. He’d be bruised, but the vest saved his life.

The third bullet had clipped his neck, brushing along the skin just deep enough to cause bleeding.

Groaning, Nathan opened his eyes and tried to sit up. “I’m all right,” he lied as he touched his bandaged shoulder.

“I got the shooter.” Luke helped him to his feet. “He’s tied up.”

“And the third guy out by the road?”

“He disappeared.”

“Go after him. I can make it back to the SUV.” As Nathan said the words, his knees buckled and he was out cold. Luke grabbed him before he tumbled to the ground.

“Nathan?” he tried.

The young agent didn’t move, but his breathing came in a steady rate and his heart pounded a solid beat.

Luke lifted him over one shoulder. “I’ll get Skidder later. Right now, I’m getting you help.”

He plowed a wide path through the trees to where they’d left the canoe. The fastest way out would be across the water, then he’d get Allie to drive Nathan to the hospital and he’d go back after Skidder.

For a moment, he thought he’d gone to the wrong place. The canoe was missing.

Luke backtracked along the beach, breathing heavy with the load he carried. No canoe. He left it in the same spot every time he crossed to this site and he made sure it was well out of the water.

So, where was it now?

A slow dread crawled into his heart. He looked out over the water and saw Skidder trying to paddle.

Panic shot through him. He had to get Nathan to safety. An agent was down, bleeding enough for it to be life-threatening. That had to be his first priority.

But the drugged-out criminal was heading across the lake to Jefferson’s Crossing. By the way he paddled, Skidder wouldn’t make good time. It would be midnight by the time he reached the far shore.

Midnight.

Allie would be standing there waiting. The only person between him and freedom.

I leaned back on my elbows and watched the moon. Funny how when you live in the city you don’t really notice the moon-it’s like an accent or a painting stuffed in a corner. But out here, where there were no artificial lights to destroy the view, the moon became a centerpiece of the night.

I’d built a fire when I’d first wandered out after Nana went up to bed. The flames had turned to mostly smoke and crackle. It didn’t matter, Luke knew his way.

All day I’d thought about what tonight might be like. Tonight, when we didn’t have to worry about someone interrupting us. What would happen when we had time for more than a stolen kiss?

I had been holding back passion all my adult life, thinking it was something I’d never express. When he touched me, Luke made me want to taste it fully.

Giggling, I decided that Luke didn’t have to even flirt. I was ready. I’d probably frighten him. Part of me felt like a fish trying to jump into the boat.

Closing my eyes, I listened to the faint sounds of a paddle hitting the water. Luke was coming, just as he’d promised.

Jefferson must have stopped renting canoes years ago. I couldn’t help but wonder if Luke’s was the last survivor. It was the only canoe I saw regularly on the lake. Most of the fishermen preferred to row, or use a motor.

Smiling, I wondered if he’d notice that I wasn’t wearing pink underwear. I’d made a trip to town before supper just to buy new black panties and a small bottle of the perfume I used to love in college. Now the smell of it vanished into the smells of the lake. I’d wasted my money.

I laughed, realizing I didn’t care. It had felt so good to be able to buy one thing that wasn’t a necessity. I’d bought Nana a white shawl so she could sit on the porch these cool nights and watch the sunset. She told me it made her feel like a queen.

The sound of the paddle grew closer and I tried to think of what I’d say to Luke. That I was still mad? That I missed him all day? Maybe I wouldn’t say anything at all. We seemed to be progressing nicely in our current pattern of not talking.

When the canoe hit one of the dock’s poles beneath me, I jumped. Even in the dark I would have thought Luke had more skill. Many more knocks like that and the sole surviving canoe would be at the bottom of the lake.

Standing, I walked over to the edge and waited for him to swing himself up. But he didn’t.

I waited, then thinking he must be walking beneath the dock, I searched along the line of planks for him to appear. It was far too dark and too late for him to be playing games. Besides, Luke wasn’t the kind of man who’d try to scare me.

Five inches from my tennis shoe one blackened hand flapped onto the dock. Then another. The one lamp threw enough light for me to see that the hands were thin and scabbed.

“Dirty kind of, black but not oily,” I whispered Dillon’s description of the drug dealer’s hands.

I backed away. Luke was not below. He hadn’t been in the canoe. Someone else had. Someone I didn’t want to see out here alone at this time of night.

The dock squeaked beneath my steps as I moved backward. I searched the lake, looking for another boat. Praying I’d see Luke heading toward me.

The hands disappeared. I froze, listening to every sound. I hoped whoever crawled beneath the dock would stay there. Every muscle in my body wanted me to run, but if I ran, I might be heading right toward him.

I heard only the lapping of the water against the boards below. He could be anywhere below. Footsteps in the sand wouldn’t make a sound.

I forced a slow breath, telling myself I’d fallen asleep waiting for Luke. The hands had been nothing but the remnants of a nightmare.

Just as I turned to walk back to the house, my nightmare reappeared. A black, scabbed hand shot up and grabbed my ankle, pulling me down hard on the wet dock with one violent jerk.

I scrambled and kicked as the grip tightened and a fiend of a man worse than any of my under-the-bed monsters appeared. He dragged me across the dock as he used my leg to pull himself up.

His hands and arms were gross with blackened, burned skin that was healing at different rates. In the light I saw pink new underflesh and hanging dead skin that hadn’t yet let go. The rest of him was thin, bony, reminding me of a deformed crawdad as he crawled up on the dock.

If his body hadn’t frightened me, his face would have. His eyes were wide and hollow, his mouth twisted from his effort. Brown hair grew across his chin in patches. Madness flooded his stare.

“Let go of me!” I screamed, kicking at his hands with my free leg.

I connected, my tennis shoes landing hard against the side of his face.

His eyes registered no pain, only fright-like a wild animal gone mad.

His grip tightened, dragging me to him.

I braced to kick him again but his free hand caught my arm and pulled me against him. His body felt fever-hot against me and jerked in tiny panicky movements.

“Help!” I yelled, knowing no one would hear. “Someone help!”

His grip was stronger than I’d expected and I couldn’t break free. As he struggled to his feet, he planted his knee on my captured arm and pulled a knife from his belt.

The cold blade slid beside my throat deep enough to cut into the first layer of skin.

“Be still. Be still, lady. You got to be still,” he rambled, his rank breath polluting the air. “I don’t want to hurt you. I just want to borrow a car. I ain’t going to hurt nobody. I didn’t shoot nobody. I just got to have a car. A car.” He pushed the knife a fraction deeper into my neck. “You got a car?”

His hand was unsteady. I tried not to breathe for fear he’d jerk slightly and cut into an artery.

He stood, pulling me up to him, then pressing his body behind me. “Take me to it, lady, and I’ll leave you be. I just got to go. Got to have a car.”

We walked like Siamese penguins down the dock. I could feel his body shaking. If possible he seemed more nervous than I was. Frantically I tried to think of something, anything to say. Nothing.

I thought of saying, “Don’t kill me,” but I didn’t want to give him any ideas. If I turned around and looked at him, he’d probably think he had to kill me. He was the one with the knife. He should have been the one in control, but he didn’t seem to know it.

We moved slowly toward the porch. His grip eased a bit, but the knife remained. “Are you here alone?” he hissed in my ear. “Where’s the car? You got a car. Anyone else here?”

“Yes,” I lied. I wouldn’t put Nana in danger. “I’m alone and I have a car. You can have it. I’ll just have to reach inside the door and get the key.”

“Good.” He seemed to think for a moment, then asked, “Why are you here? I’ve been here before once. This ain’t your place. Why were you out by the dock?”

“I’m Jefferson’s niece.”

We stopped at the first step. “Jefferson’s that old guy who used to own the store? I seen him once. He didn’t look like he liked me. You his kin?”

“Yes.” I started to nod, then remembered the knife. “Did you know him?”

“No, but I heard he was a nosy old guy.” He removed the knife and pointed with it to the van. “That your van?”

His grip on my arm warned me not to move. “Yes.”

He poked the point of the knife against my back. “Give me the keys. I don’t mean you no harm. I just got to get away from here.”