Heartbeat to Hell, crime fiction by BJ Bourg, Web Mystery Magazine Summer 2005

Heartbeat to Hell

"Joe," Susan said, "is that the place?"

I strained to see through the darkness. The headlights from the Explorer cast shadows on the restaurant sign and made it hard to read. "No, that's not it. Lester said it's near the intersection of the Bourg-Larose Highway."

Susan sighed. "How much further?"

I felt for her hand and squeezed it. "We're getting close."

"You said that two hours ago." She leaned over the console and rested her tired head on my shoulder.

"I know it's a long ride, but it'll all be worth it. I promise. This'll be our best anniversary yet."

"I wish you'd just tell me where we're going."

"I can't. I want it to be a surprise."

Susan rubbed my arm. "You don't have to do all this. I'm just happy you didn't have to work."

"I gave you my word." I had returned home the day after our last anniversary and found Susan balled up on the sofa – in tears. I vowed to never go out of town on our anniversary again.

I pointed to a caution light that blinked in the distance. "I think that's it." As we neared the intersection, I saw the restaurant off to the left. I turned the Explorer into the parking lot and killed the engine. A sign over the door with faded blue letters declared that the place was Rita's Seafood Diner. It was just as Lester had described. "Lester claims this place serves the best seafood in south Louisiana."

Susan straightened in her seat and pushed her coal black hair out of her eyes. "You can't tell by all the business."

I looked around the dark parking lot. No cars. "I hope they're still cooking."

"What town is this anyway?"

"Bourg. This road will take us to Highway One in Larose. After that, a straight shot south."

"Straight shot to where?" Susan's smile was seductive and her brown eyes sparkled.

"Nice try." It took everything within me to keep from telling her we were spending the weekend at Lester's camp on Grand Isle. Scuba diving, deep-sea fishing, Margaritas, all the seafood we could eat, long walks on the moonlit beach – an anniversary to write home about.

I opened the car door for Susan and we crunched through the oyster shells to the front door of the diner. I grabbed the doorknob and immediately let go.

"What's wrong?" Susan asked.

"Greasy." I wiped my sticky hand on my jeans and then grabbed the doorknob with my T-shirt. The door creaked when I opened it. The smell of fried seafood met my nostrils. My stomach growled. The room was empty. A long, oak counter stood guard over the gray, metal door that led to the kitchen. Two of the walls were lined with booths. The center of the room was cluttered with tables and chairs.

Susan sidled up to me and clutched my hand. "Where is everyone?"

I shrugged. "Hello, anybody here?"

"Be with you in a minute," said an impatient voice from the kitchen.

I led the way through the maze of tables and chairs to a corner booth.

"What's that?" Susan pointed to a dried, alien-like creature attached to a large fishnet that hung from the wall above them. There were crabs, lobsters and different types of fish strung out over the length of the net.

"I guess it's some sort of fish."

Susan shuddered. "It doesn't look like a fish."

We both jumped when a booming voice asked what we wanted to drink. I looked up. A robust waitress loomed over us. Her dirty apron didn't cover much of her overstuffed belly. Her pitted face…hairy. Her arms…tree trunks. A platoon of sweat marched down her forehead. With a flick of her rough and cracked hand, she sent them airborne. "Come on kids, I ain't got all night."

"Dr Peppers," I said. "Two of them."

Susan gasped when the waitress waddled off. "What is this place?"

I shrugged. "It ain't Cracker Barrel, but what do you expect? We're in the middle of nowhere."

Susan slid out of her seat. "Watch my purse. I'm going to the bathroom."

I leaned back and closed my eyes. Ten hours on the road. I was whipped. It felt good to finally relax. I started to doze off when a loud shriek brought me back. It was Susan. I bolted to the bathroom and shoved open the door. Susan cowered in the corner. Her porcelain face was paler than virgin snow. She pointed to the floor and in a weak voice said, "Roach…a big one."

I smashed the roach and laughed.

Susan pouted. "It's not funny." We returned to our table and Susan insisted on sitting beside me. The waitress brought our drinks and scribbled our order on a piece of napkin. Susan rolled her eyes when the waitress walked away, but those same eyes sparkled when the waitress returned with a steaming tray of freshly cooked seafood.

After we ate, we walked to the counter. "Ma'am, that was the best soft-shelled crabs I've ever eaten."

The waitress nodded. "Don't mean to brag, but nobody serves it like us."

I asked the waitress how long it would take to get to Highway One.

She shook her head. "You won't be getting there tonight."

"What do you mean?"

"No one drives the Bourg-Larose Highway at night."

"Why not?"

"People disappear on that road. Eleven in the last year."

I laughed. "You're joking."

The waitress' face tightened. She reached beneath the counter and came up with a newspaper. She threw it on the counter in front of me. It was dated two weeks prior. The headline read, "Car found, couple missing." I scanned down the page to the final paragraph and read it aloud. "This brings the total to eleven missing along this long stretch of lonely highway that cuts through the thick Louisiana woods. Police say four vehicles have been recovered, but no traces have been found of the missing persons. An intensive search of the area netted no clues."

I pushed the paper back to the waitress. "Thanks for the warning."

We waved good-bye to the waitress and as we walked to the Explorer, Susan stopped abruptly. She bent over and vomited.

I rushed to her side. "Are you okay?"

She nodded. "Must be something I ate." When we were back in the SUV, she said, "What will we do?"

"We're sticking to our schedule."

"But we can't drive on that road. You heard what the lady said."

"Baby, there's nothing to worry about. I'm with you. I'm your dragon slayer."

Susan fidgeted around in her seat. "I don't know…"

Despite Susan's protests, I turned onto the dark road. The woods on both sides were dense. The tree branches embraced above the road and formed a leafy umbrella that blocked the light from the moon and stars. The darkness was so black it seemed to sap the brightness from the headlights.

Susan shuddered. "This is creepy. Let's go back."

"We're in a car. We're going seventy miles per hour. There's nothing to worry about."

"I don't know." Susan's voice shook. "I want to go back home. Besides, I'm not feeling good."

"We'll be there soon."

"Please," Susan said, "let's just turn around."

"Baby, I'd never let anything bad happen to you. You've got an overactive imagination. Jesus, you're scared to death of roaches and they can't do a thing to you."

Susan was quiet for several minutes. When she spoke I knew her feelings were hurt. "I can't help it if I'm scared."

I looked at my beautiful wife. Her brow was furrowed and the concern was evident in her eyes. "I know, I know. I'm sorry – "

"Oh, my God! What's that?"

I jerked my head around. Just ahead of us there was a car parked on the shoulder of the road. The hazards flashed. I started to slow.

"No, no, don't stop." Susan was terrified. "What if that's the car of another missing person?"

When we drove past the car, I saw that someone stood beside the car. It was a woman and she was on a cell phone. "I've got to turn around. It's a woman."

"No, please don't!" Susan was almost in tears. "Just keep driving. I have a bad feeling about this!"

"Baby, I can't leave a woman out here alone. You heard what the waitress said. This area is dangerous at night."

"Let's just drive. We can call the police from the cell and they can come."

"It might be too late. What if you were stranded out here alone?" I smashed the brakes and turned the Explorer around. I stopped on the opposite shoulder of the road. The woman wore a business suit. She had short, blonde hair and she looked nervous. "Sit tight and lock the doors."

Susan clutched my arm. "Don't leave me."

"I'll just be a minute." I stepped out and stood by the Explorer. The night was graveyard quiet. I started across the highway. "Is everything okay?"

The woman had moved to the door of her car. "I caught a blowout."

"Would you like a ride?"

The woman looked up and down the road. She clutched her cell phone. "I'll be fine. Thank you."

"My name's Joe Everett. My wife's with me. We're on our way to the coast. If you'd like, we can take you to the next town."

The woman chewed on her lower lip. "I don't know."

"It's better than staying here."

"I can't leave my car."

I walked around to the passenger's side of her car. The front tire was flat. The wind howled through the trees. A twig snapped somewhere deep in the woods. "This place ain't safe. It'd be better if you came with us."

"My dad is on his way." Her smile exposed a row of perfect teeth. "I'll be fine. Thanks for stopping."

I walked back to the Explorer. Susan hit the power locks to let me in. "She's got a flat," I said, "and she won't come with us."

Susan chewed her fingernails. "How long would it take you to change her tire?"

"Five minutes max."

"Make it three."

I jogged back across the road. "Open your trunk. I'll change your tire."

The woman looked relieved. She bent into her car to pop the trunk. I couldn't help but notice her tanned, muscular legs. "Thank you so much," she said. "I'll grab my flashlight."

I snatched the spare tire and jack and went to work. The woman held the light for me. I had just pulled the flat tire off when I heard leaves rustle somewhere behind me. The woman shrieked and shined the light into the trees. "What was that?"

I clutched the tire tool and strained to see through the underbrush. I picked up a shell and threw it toward the sound. The leaves erupted and something darted toward us. The woman clutched my arm. I cocked the tire tool, but relaxed when a raccoon appeared from the underbrush and ran across the road. "Jesus," I said, "that waitress has me – "

Suddenly, a loud crash and a piercing scream turned my blood to ice. Still clutching the tire tool, I spun around. In the backsplash from the headlights, I saw a large, dark figure wearing a ski mask dragging Susan by the neck through the passenger's side window of the Explorer. I let out a battle yell and ran toward her. Susan kicked and screamed but her attacker didn't release her.

I rounded the corner of the Explorer and reared back with the tire tool. The attacker dragged Susan free from the window and turned her toward me. I hesitated and was tackled hard from behind me. When I hit the ground, the wind was knocked out of me. Susan screamed my name over and over. Adrenaline surged through me. I smashed at my attacker with my elbow and scrambled out from under him. I pushed off the rocks, straight toward Susan's attacker. Something smashed into my back and I collapsed in mid-lunge. My muscles locked up and I convulsed violently. My breathing felt constricted. The convulsions continued. I tried to fight through the pain and electric current that coursed through my body, but it was useless. Through a haze, I saw two shadowy figures above me. They kicked and stomped me. My muscles were so locked up I couldn't even cover my face. Susan's screams started to fade, my vision blurred, I felt myself slipping….

I lay face down on a carpeted floor that reeked of mildew. We were moving. My guess was a van. I heard a whimper and recognized it to be Susan. I tried to sit up and noticed two wires hanging from my back. I pulled at the wires and felt a sharp pain in my back. "What the hell?" The convulsions started again. A TASER! Someone laughed. Susan screamed. Something hard slammed against my temple….

The inside of my skull pounded like a boxer hitting a heavy bag. The van bounced as it roared through the night. After what seemed like hours, and without warning, the van screeched to a stop. I lay still as the van door slid open. Someone grabbed my ankles and jerked me out of the van. I fell hard, but didn't make a sound. I peeked through slits in my eyes. There were three of them.

A man with a gruff voice said, "Is he dead?"

"He's still breathing," said a burly man with a thick Cajun accent, "but not much."

"Let's get him inside." Gruff Voice grabbed my arms and someone grabbed my feet.

I saw Burly Man ahead of us. He pushed Susan toward an old shack. Susan stumbled and fell. Burly Man grabbed her by the hair and jerked her to her feet. He slapped her hard and said, "If you fall again, I'll bury you here!"

I kicked out as hard as I could. My feet fell to the ground and I struggled free from Gruff Voice's grasp. "I'll kill you – "

Burly Man kicked me square in the solar plexus. I gasped and sank to the ground.

"Go easy with the merchandise," Gruff Voice said. "You almost killed him." He grabbed my left leg and someone grabbed my arms. They carried me toward the shack.

Inside, they dumped me on the floor. I glanced up and saw that Gruff Voice was tall and skinny. His face was leather and pitted, hair long and greasy, and his eyes, pure evil. He wore tattered jeans and a blue, flannel shirt. Burly Man wore blue slacks and a dark trench coat. A ski mask covered his face.

Gruff Voice helped Burly Man strap Susan to a metal table. My heart began to race. It looked like the autopsy tables on HBO's American Undercover. Without turning my head, I scanned the room. In the corner of the room opposite the metal table were two lengths of chain hanging from the wall. Metal leg shackles and handcuffs were attached to the ends of the chain. Once I was shackled, Susan and I would have no chance at escape. Burly Man and Gruff Voice's backs were to me. The other attacker was somewhere behind me, but this was my only chance. If I took Burly Man and Gruff Voice out quickly, I could turn and concentrate on the third attacker.

I took a deep breath, lunged from the floor and punched Burly Man in the back of his neck with every ounce of my strength. He collapsed immediately and I tackled Gruff Voice to the ground. Susan screamed as we struggled. Boots echoed on the wooden floor as the third attacker approached quickly from behind. Just as I turned, two barbs spat from the TASER and smashed into me – one to my neck and one to my stomach. I convulsed again. The electric current ripped at my muscles. My teeth chattered and I tried to move, but couldn't.

Gruff Voice dragged my helpless, convulsing body to the corner of the room and placed the metal shackles on my arms and legs. He stomped me several times for good measure. His boot heels must have cracked my ribs, because every subsequent breath pierced my insides.

Burly Man peeled himself from the floor and adjusted his ski mask. With a roar, he grabbed me by the neck and pulled me to my feet. I don't know if it was from him squeezing my throat or from his sour breath, but I began to gag. I slammed my shackled wrists against his forearms. He squeezed harder. I placed my right thumb up under his jaw and buried it as deep as I could. His skin ripped, but it didn't seem to affect him. I plunged my fingers through the eyeholes in the ski mask. He shook his head until I lost my hold on his face. His death grip tightened. My eyes bulged and my vision started to blur.

"That's enough!" Gruff Voice said.

Burly Man slammed me to the ground. He ran his finger over the deep scratch on his neck and licked the blood. "I ought to kill him right now!"

"He'll die soon enough." Gruff Voice threw a set of keys to Burly Man. "Go to the office and call the buyers."

Burly Man spat in my face and stormed out the door.

"Do you want me to draw their blood?" a female asked.

Through a haze, my eyes followed the sound of the familiar voice. It was the blonde with the flat tire!

"Quickly," Gruff Voice said.

Susan screamed when the syringe pierced her skin. She couldn't help it, she was deadly afraid of needles. Blondie punched her right in the face. "Don't move, bitch!"

I jerked on my shackles and Blondie smiled in my direction. "Patience, Sweetie. Your turn's coming." She withdrew two vials of blood from Susan and then approached me. I stiffened. She called Gruff Voice.

"Give her trouble and she'll shoot you again with the TASER."

I sat still while she filled the vials. She wrote something across the seal and then perched herself in my lap. "You know," she said, "you're not so bad looking." She leaned toward me and I backed away from her. She grabbed the back of my hair and forced my face toward her. She snaked her tongue out and licked my face. "Yummy."

"Let's get the doctor," Gruff Voice said.

Blondie started to slide off of me. "Maybe when I get back we can have some real fun."

I shoved hard with my hips, but Blondie simply stepped away. She laughed as she followed Gruff Voice outside and slammed the door shut. I waited until the van drove off and then sat up. I glanced at Susan. Her eyes were closed and she cried softly.

"Baby," I whispered, "are you okay?"

She looked at me. Her eyes were red and swollen. There was blood on her mouth. "Why did you have to stop?"

My heart exploded. This was my fault. I had gotten us into this mess. I tugged on the shackles. They were anchored solid. I scanned the room. It looked like a hospital. There were several machines along one wall, with hoses and wires extended everywhere. An assortment of scalpels and needles cluttered a stainless steel tray that topped a rolling cart. It was too far to reach. There were no windows in the place and only one door. It looked like a solid steel door.

Susan wailed. "What do they want with us?"

"I don't know, but we have to escape. Can you move?"

"No. I can't even feel my hands. The straps are too tight." She cried uncontrollably. "Oh, God, we're gonna die!"

"Don't say that. Can you reach that cart with your foot?"

She lifted her head. "No. It's too far."

"Try."

"I can't reach it!"

"Come on, Baby, you can do it!"

Susan strained against the shackles. After several seconds, she sank back and began to gag.

"Are you okay?"

She shook her head. Tears streamed down her face. "I have to tell you something."

"What is it?"

"I wanted it to be a surprise. I thought our anniversary would be the perfect time to tell you – "

"What? What are you saying?" A lump started to form in my throat.

"I … we … we're gonna have a baby."

"Oh, God, you mean, you're pregnant?"

Susan nodded.

"But, when?"

"I've known for two weeks. I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I wanted it to be perfect. I'm so sorry."

I started to tremble as I stared around the room. I couldn't let these animals kill my wife and unborn child. I fought my shackles, but my tired and beaten body was no match. Susan struggled, too, but the straps bound her to the table. I knew she blamed me for this. Hell, I blamed me for this. I just wished there was some way I could do it all over again.

Hours later, the silence of the room was shattered by a loud chirp that emitted from my back pocket. My Nextel! I had shoved it there when I stepped out of the Explorer. I squirmed around and dug it out. I mashed the transmitter button. Before I could talk, Susan began screaming for help. Her voice displayed a renewed sense of confidence that had been absent since we turned onto the Bourg-Larose Highway.

"Joe? What's going on?" It was my boss.

"Lester, you gotta help us, call the cops, we're being held hostage."

"Is this a joke?"

Susan let out a scream that reverberated like thunder within the small shack.

"No joke. Call the cops, get them here quick."

"Where? What's going on?"

I stared around the room. The sun must have been rising, because there was light coming from the crack under the door. I pressed my face against the floor and tried to see outside, but couldn't. "I'm not sure where. We're in a shack. You've gotta hurry!"

"But I need to know where you are, what town, something …. "

"We're somewhere on the Bourg-Larose Highway. We're in some kind of shack. It's set up like a hospital room. The Explorer's on the road. You can't miss it. Get the cops, get the army, get somebody!"

"Sheriff ... buddy ... back."

"Lester, you're breaking up, just call the cops." There was no response. I stared in horror at the battery indicator on my phone. It was nearly dead. I slammed the phone against my head. "I forgot to charge the batteries before we left!"

I sank to the ground. If we were lucky, Lester would get help. If not … I didn't even want to think about it. Minutes later my phone chirped. There was too much static. I couldn't make out what Lester said. "I can't hear you, Lester. Come back."

"… cops … they … location … en route … "

Outside, a car door slammed. Susan's head jerked around. "Cops?"

"Impossible." I shoved the phone down my waistband. Susan was frozen in fear. I was scared, too. I didn't know what to expect. The door opened and the bright sunlight blinded me. When the door closed, I saw Blondie. She had traded her business suit for loose sweats.

"Why are you doing this?" Susan cried.

When Blondie smiled I swear the temperature in the room dropped forty degrees. She walked to the autopsy table and brushed dried blood from Susan's lip. "Nothing personal, Sweetie. All business."

"What kind of business kidnaps innocent people?" I wanted to know.

Blondie turned her icy stare my way. "The kind that pays top dollar."

"I'll double whatever they're paying you, just let us go, please, I'm begging you."

Blondie laughed. "You're a pathetic excuse for a man."

"Please, ma'am, at least let my wife go. I have fifty-thousand dollars in my savings account. It's yours. Every penny. Just let Susan go."

Blondie's wicked laugh made me shudder. "I could get more than 50g for your pinkie toe."

"Please. She's pregnant."

"Wow," Blondie slapped Susan hard in the stomach. "I wonder what I can get for a fetus?"

"Listen to me, I swear, if you hurt her I'll kill you!"

In one deft motion, Blondie snatched a scalpel from the tray and dropped into my lap. She put the scalpel to my throat and scooted close. She opened her mouth to speak and then froze. Her hand darted into my waistband and came up with my cell phone. She quickly dismounted me. "What's this? Who'd you call?"

I stared into her wild eyes and said nothing. Her gaze fixed on Susan. She walked to the autopsy table and placed the tip of the scalpel against Susan's eyelid. "You have one chance to get this right." Her voice was deathly calm. "Who'd you call?"

"Okay, okay, don't hurt her! I didn't call anyone. My battery died. You can see for yourself."

"Please don't hurt my baby," Susan whispered.

Blondie cocked her head. I heard it, too…a vehicle. This had to be the cops. I moved closer to the corner. If gunfire erupted, I didn't want to be on the receiving end of it. I checked Susan's position. It was out of line with the doorway.

Doors slammed, boots echoed on the wooden porch, the door burst open. My heart sank to my gut when I realized it was Gruff Voice and a man dressed like a doctor.

The doctor walked immediately to Susan. He tossed a blue and white, plastic cooler and a satchel on the cart and rolled it beside the autopsy table. "We can't waste any time. Our buyers are waiting."

"That was quick." Blondie tossed my cell phone to Gruff Voice. "He claims he didn't use it. The battery's dead."

"So, what if he did? This is a secure location." He turned to the doctor. "What do we do with him?"

"Get rid of him." The doctor pulled a syringe from his bag and injected something into Susan's arm. She screamed and struggled against the straps that bound her.

I jumped up and jerked on the shackles. "What is that? Get away from her!"

Susan's eyes rolled back in her head and she slowly sank back onto the table. The doctor pulled a large scalpel from his bag and cut Susan's shirt open. He cut the front of her bra and pulled it off.

"What the hell are you doing to her?" I strained and pulled with every ounce of strength in my body. I glanced at Susan. Her breathing was steady. It looked as though she was asleep.

The doctor placed the scalpel against Susan's flesh, just above her left breast, and buried it deep into her chest. I screamed and cursed and jerked violently on the shackles. Blood oozed from my wrists and ankles, but I didn't notice. I was insane with anger.

The doctor spun and pointed the bloody scalpel at me. "Get him out of here so I can work!"

Gruff Voice pulled a black, semiautomatic pistol from his waistband and smashed it against my head. I went limp. I felt the shackles fall free. I heard Gruff Voice tell Blondie to help him. I was dragged across the floor, out the door, and across the yard. They dropped me. I took a deep breath and pulled myself to hands and knees. I stared up at Gruff Voice. The pistol was trained at my face. He smiled and turned to say something to Blondie.

I lunged forward and grabbed the pistol. I buried my teeth deep into Gruff Voice's hand. He screamed. Blood gushed into my mouth. I choked on it and swallowed some, but I bit harder and pumped my legs forward. Gruff Voice lost his balance and fell. The pistol came free. I turned it around and shoved it deep into his mouth. I pulled the trigger and the pistol bucked in my hand. He went limp.

Something slammed into my back. Nails clawed at my face. My face burned as the flesh was ripped away. I reached back and grabbed a handful of hair. I pulled Blondie off my back and pinned her under me. I stuck the gun in her face and pulled the trigger. Nothing happened. I punched her with the pistol. She gasped. I noticed that a bullet casing was stuck in the ejection port. I worked the slide and freed the casing. Without thought, I shot Blondie three times in the face.

I broke into a run – my legs threatened to fold beneath me--until at last I burst through the door of the shack. What I saw brought me to my knees and made me vomit. The front of Susan's torso was sliced open and peeled back. Her chest plate was on the floor. Her internal organs were exposed. Tears and blood streamed down my face. I screamed until I thought my lungs would explode.

The doctor stared wide-eyed at me. He dropped the scalpel and raised his hands. "Okay, son," he said. "It's over."

I pointed the gun in the doctor's direction and squeezed the trigger. He jerked and grabbed his chest. I shot again. And again. The doctor collapsed. I crawled to him. I put the gun against his chest. I squeezed the trigger until it was empty and dropped the gun.

With hands that shook, I grabbed the table and pulled myself to my feet. I stared in horror at Susan's lifeless body. Her heart had been cut out and submerged in the ice within the cooler.

I don't know how long I stared. It felt like days. Eventually, my body began to move. I found the keys to the van in Gruff Voice's pockets. I followed the dirt road for nearly twenty miles through a dense wooded area before it intersected with the Bourg-Larose Highway. I sped along the highway, hoping, praying to see a town around the next curve in the road. I saw it for a full minute before I realized what it was … a cop car. It was headed toward me – lights flashed and the siren blared. I jerked the van into the cop's lane of traffic and smashed the brakes. I threw the door open, fell from the seat and staggered to the front of the van.

The cop car screeched to a halt. A cop in a black uniform rushed to my side. "What the hell happened to you?"

"My wife … they killed her … they stole her heart – "

"Slow down. What happened?"

"They killed my wife. She's dead … Susan's dead."

"Are you the one who called 9-1-1?"

"My boss did."

"Where's your wife?"

"I don't know where … but … but I can show you."

The cop helped me into his car and sped toward the location. He grabbed the police radio and called for detectives and an ambulance. "You're lucky to be alive," he said. "Where're the suspects?"

"I killed them." I wiped blood from my face. I asked the cop if he had napkins.

"Check the glove compartment."

I opened the glove compartment and found a stack of Popeyes napkins inside.

As we neared the dirt road, I pointed to it. The cop turned sharply and mashed the gas pedal. The trees blurred by and the woods swallowed us as we raced ahead. The road was rough and it didn't take long for the dust to billow into the car. I coughed uncontrollably. The fit of coughs sent a piercing pain through my ribs. I clutched at my side and dropped the napkins to the floorboard.

The cop apologized and closed his window.

I fumbled with the fallen napkins and something black caught my eye. It was stuffed under the seat. I winced when I bent over, but managed to pull it out. "What's this?"

"Don't touch that," he said. When he spoke, a cloud of sour stench spat from his mouth. I gagged. That was a familiar stench. It smelled like –

I choked on my heart when I realized I was holding a ski mask. I jerked around to look at the cop – I stared into the muzzle of a .357 revolver. It was then that I noticed the large cut under his jaw ….