Brett Battles - No Return

“You bitch,” Wes said.

“I wasn’t the one who started the killings. You were.” She raised her gun. “Now move it. You know where I want you.”

Yes. He did.

Lars was doing eighty without a helmet as he passed the city limits east of town. It was another mile before he saw the flashing lights in his side-view mirror. But while the cop car was slowly gaining, it wasn’t going fast enough to catch up anytime soon.

Lars eased off the throttle. The bike had more to give, but losing the cop was not something he wanted to do. If he was right about where Wes was, it would take the cops a good twenty minutes to get there after he called them. At least this way there would be one squad car with him already. The trick was to remain a tantalizing target. So far, so good.

The problem was he had never personally driven out to the Rocks. The few times he’d gone had all been back in high school, and on each trip Wes had been driving. So it wasn’t surprising he almost overshot the turnoff. As it was, he ended up leaving a long skid mark on the highway to keep from missing it. Once he’d finished the turn, he stopped on the dirt road, engine idling.

Lars knew he had a decision to make. Guess, and chance being wrong, or wait until he was sure, and chance being too late. Hell, I could already be too late .

He pulled out his phone and saw that the reception indicator was down to two bars. If he went much farther, the signal would be gone altogether. It looked like he didn’t have a choice, after all.

He was halfway through his phone call when the police cruiser pulled to a stop across the mouth of the road. There was only one man in the car. He immediately jumped out, his hand hovering above his gun.

“Step away from your vehicle!” the officer ordered.

“Have you got my location?” Lars said into the phone.

“Got it,” Janice said.

“You know what to do,” he said. “I’ve gotta go.”

“Sir, I’ll tell you only one more time,” the cop said, stepping toward Lars.

Lars stuffed the phone in his pocket.

The cop was only ten feet away now. “Get off the motorcycle.”

“No time,” Lars said. “We’ve got to get out there.” He pointed in the direction of the Rocks.

“Sir, keep your hands where I can see them,” the cop ordered, his own hand now resting on the butt of his gun.

“Listen, Officer. My name is Lieutenant Commander Lars Andersen. There is a crime happening out-”

“I don’t care who you are. Get off the motorcycle now!”

“Listen to me,” Lars said. “There’s been a kidnapping. There are people in serious trouble. I need you to follow me.”

“Sir. Don’t-”

“Call the station, they’re already expecting to hear from me. Tell them to send everyone they can to the Drama Rocks.”

Lars put the bike into gear and took off, not waiting to see what the cop decided to do.

Wes moved out onto the flattop rock where he and Jack had fought, and from where Jack had fallen to his death years before. It resembled a wide plank, and now it was his turn to walk it.

In his head he had been keeping count. He was up to forty-six. In less than sixty seconds, Anna should be making her move. He couldn’t think about what had happened to Mandy, or Jack Rice, or, dear God, his father. He needed to keep Dori’s and Michael’s attention fully on him long enough for Anna to get away. Once she was safe, he’d be able to relax. It wouldn’t matter what they did to him. At least Anna would have a chance.

“Move to the edge,” Dori said.

Wes held his position.

“I said move.” She raised her gun to emphasize her point.

“Shoot me and you ruin your whole I-killed-the-commander scenario,” Wes said.

“I shoot you, it just looks like you guys got into a gunfight.”

Fifty-nine .

Wes took a small step toward the drop-off. “You really think people are going to believe I did this?”

“You’re already having problems with the cops. You told me that yourself.”

Sixty-five .

“My friends will know it’s not true. They won’t let it go.”

“Your friends will be back in Los Angeles before the end of the week. And in a month, they’ll have forgotten all about you.”

Michael Dillman was still too close to Anna.

Wes took a step in his direction. “You willing to go to jail for this?”

“Get back,” Dori said.

Wes stared at Dori’s husband. “Well?”

“She said get back,” Dillman told him.

Wes didn’t budge.

Eighty . Almost time.

Dillman moved the barrel of his gun a couple of inches back and forth.

“Is that supposed to scare me?” Wes asked.

“I don’t care what it does.”

Ninety-four .

“Now get back.”

Then, to drive the point home, Dillman took three large steps toward Wes.

One hundred .

Wes held up his hands and moved back to where he’d been before. “Better?”

Behind Dillman, Anna stirred. First she turned her head a few inches and opened her eyes. Then she pushed up and got silently to her feet.

“So after I jump, then what?” Wes said.

“What then doesn’t matter,” Dori said. “Not to you.”

Anna was leaning a little to the side, still unsteady from whatever she had been given.

Run , Wes thought. Get out of here .

She righted herself and looked like she was about to do just that.

“Two ways to do this,” Dori said. “You jump or we shoot you. I’ll let you choose.”

Dillman smiled. “Bet we have to shoot him.”

Anna had stopped.

Get out of here!

“I’ll … I’ll jump,” Wes said.

A look of horror swept across Anna’s face.

“You’ve got ten seconds, then we shoot,” Dori said.

“I’ll go, I’ll go,” Wes said, hoping Anna would get his hint to move it.

“I don’t see you falling,” Dori said.

Wes took a step back to the very edge of the rock.

“No!” Anna screamed.

Both Dori and Dillman whipped around.

Without thinking, Wes charged forward, crashing into Dillman. They fell to the ground, the man’s head knocking against the surface of the boulder. Wes pushed Dillman hard, grinding his head into the stone.

Dori’s attention had been on Anna, so she didn’t react until she heard the two men hit the rock. Training her gun on Anna, she swiveled her head to see what had happened.

But by then Wes was already on his feet and headed her way.

Dori tried to bring the gun around, but he got there first, and he wrapped his arms around her, going for the weapon. The impact caused her finger to twitch. The gun fired, the sound near deafening at such a close range.

Dori screamed out in anger as Wes grabbed at her wrist, fighting for control of her pistol. She twisted and turned under his arms, trying to force him to let go, but he held on tight.

Another gunshot. Not quite as loud, and not quite as near.

Wes twisted around, looking in the direction of the noise.

Swaying slightly, face bloodied, Dillman was aiming his weapon at the rocks where Anna had been standing. For half a second Wes thought she’d been hit, but her body wasn’t lying on the ground. In fact, he couldn’t see her at all.

Dori took advantage of his distraction and slammed her shoulder into his chin. One of his hands slipped, and she rocked to her left, nearly freeing herself. But he quickly regained his grip and pulled her back against his chest.

“Michael, goddammit!” she yelled. “Help me!”

Dillman swiveled around and fired a shot.

Wes felt a hot, searing pain a split second before Dori winced. He knew instantly he’d been hit, the bullet entering through the fleshy part of his back on the lower left.