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Kali
With my back to the cruiser, I sit in the shaded part on the driver’s side and wait. The keys to the car were nowhere to be seen, and I wasn’t about to go inside and see if they were in Chip’s pocket. I stare at the open front door and mourn the man that I would memorize a dad joke for every morning to make him smile. To the man, that would bring me yellow roses for my birthday every year.
Say goodbye to the man who buried me alive.
Still, a half hour later, I’m praying he’ll walk out. But he’s not and never will. My hatred for Pearl grows tenfold. Her game has spiraled out of control, now leaving two people dead and another one missing, if not dead already, and a madman on the loose.
I muffle my sobs with my hand, not sure why. There isn’t anyone around. Maybe it’s because I’m mad at myself for feeling sympathy for Chip. He doesn’t deserve it. He didn’t deserve to be driven to death, either.
He was desperate.
Desperate for Pearl’s love.
At the sound of tires on gravel, I stand, dusting off my jeans, relieved that Paxton found me. I stare at an old beat-up blue Chevy pulling up the long driveway. Not Paxton. Or the police. Shit.
The truck comes to a stop, and I have to squint my eyes to see who it is, the sun bright overhead. I stare at the older man as he slinks out of his truck. There’s a moment of vague familiarity before I’m thrown back to the plane. To seat 55B. The haunted eyes bore into me, his expression still as flat as a deflated balloon.
It’s him.
Carl.
I grab the gun in the front seat and point it at him. He laughs, a bitter sound that echoes around the trees as he shakes his head and opens the back door. Come on, Paxton, where are you? I don’t want to shoot someone. My heart sinks when he yanks Ari from the back seat, holding a gun to her hip. Duct tape covers her mouth, and her red eyes widen when they see me. Her hands are taped together in front of her. Thank God she’s alive.
“Let her go!” I scream, keeping the gun pointed at him.
“Put your gun down, Kali,” he says, almost put out. I shake my head. Ari’s muffled cries get louder when he puts the gun to her head. “I’ll kill her before you ever pull the trigger.”
Countless scenarios run through my head like a quick film reel. She dies. I die. We both die. The cops get here. He dies. Paxton dies. My hands tremble, and my mind races with fear and desperation.
What am I supposed to do?
Ari’s eyes plead with mine, begging me to find a solution. I’m trying! Carl smirks, the twisted satisfaction clear in his eyes, knowing he has us trapped and I don’t have any options. I jerk my head around to the house, the front door at least twenty feet away.
“You can run. But your friend here dies if you do.”
“Chip is inside,” I say, trying to deter him.
He leans to the left, looking at the wide-open door past me, and then glances at the windows. “You sure? Is he alive?” His eyes drop to the gun in my hand.
“I didn’t kill him,” I scream in defense, but then bite my tongue. That was dumb. I might have scared him if he knew I could use this thing.
“But he’s dead.” He tilts his head when I don’t reply. “That doesn’t surprise me. He’s always let his feelings get under his skin. He couldn’t handle the guilt.” Unlike the madman in front of me. Carl has zero remorse for killing that woman.
Just like he won’t for us.
I lower the gun in painful realization; I’m no match for him. I’m not going to choose to live so Ari can die. Time would never erase that pain. “I have money. Lots of it. If you let us go, you’ll be set for life.” He contemplates it for a moment, but then narrows his eyes.
“If you had money, you wouldn’t be working. Especially as a glorified airline waitress. Put the gun on the ground.” It’d be pointless to explain everything. He won’t believe it.
What would Zander do? Evaluate the threat. Can you use anything for self-defense? Memorize your surroundings. Is there a place to hide?
I squat down, placing the gun on the ground. In my other hand, I grab a fist full of dirt and gravel. I could throw it in his eyes when I get close.
When I stand, Carl gives me a knowing glare, as if looking at a petulant child. “Drop the dirt, Kali.” I groan, releasing my fist. “That’s it. Now, walk over here.”
I do as he says but keep my steps as slow as possible. I’m not sure what his plans are, but the longer I can keep him here, the better our odds are. Paxton and the police are on their way. They have to be close.
“Faster, you little bitch.” The rushed emotion in his voice surprises me, but when he looks over his shoulder toward the street, I wonder if he already knows that the cavalry is on their way.
