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Except for a thin line of trees, the hillside was a steep rock ledge. Above us, the
Furnace Brook Trail ended. From the top of that mountain a person would have a
perfect lookout. You could see all the way to the New York line. It d be easy to watch
for signs of police along the Housatonic far below.
Shannon prodded me. Right. So where s the guy we hit?
I took a breath, and spit the harsh truth out. After he fell from the ledge and we
rolled over him, we dragged him with us he never exited. My guess is he s stuck to
something, you know? A sleeve or arm or leg hooked around the axle. He s under the
Jeep. It makes sense. He didn t wander off; he s skewered to that pine tree.
Shannon stared into the ravine. His throat clicked. Seriously?
We saw the blood and the tire tracks, but no body, right? He s trapped. We
couldn t see him in the brush. Honestly? I hadn t looked. I didn t check under the
Jeep because of all the branches, and& I wouldn t because I was afraid of what I d find.
A severed head. Body parts. Guts. Gore. That s what my Hollywood fueled
imagination conjured the real thing would be more horrific because we were
responsible.
You think he s dead? Then who made all that noise earlier? That scream.
Because if there s a third guy wandering around, I m going to be really pissed.
You re already pissed. And I didn t say he was dead or that if he was, we
killed him right away. He probably came to and that s what we heard. He s had a
traumatic injury cubed. I mean look at Ricky. He only hit the steering wheel once and
he doesn t know what day it is. He still thinks that Phelps guy is a cop. That dude we
hit, he s either bleeding to death or he s attracting wildlife.
It took him a second and then, Shannon shuddered. Aw, shit.
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Dudleytown
Sorry to be graphic, but it s better to be honest. I could shoot myself for sounding
exactly like my parents. You need to prepare because it s going to be extreme.
Right on cue from the ravine, the coyotes quit squabbling and snapping.
Only a few yards from the scene of our accident, the Caddy s brakes sent a bright
warning and Shannon and I jumped the gulley and hid in the trees. He dropped the
bags on the ground and squatting, wrapped a hand around my wrist and yanked me
down beside him. What sport were you best at in high school?
I blinked at him. What?
Sport. I swam and rowed my hand-eye coordination sucks. He said this wryly
as if I d judge him or something. I thought his hand skills were unmatched, but I
didn t say anything as he unzipped the bags and took stock of our supplies. Allie.
What sport?
Really? This is our conversation? There are wild dogs eating a half dead felon and
you want to talk sports? Shannon had finally succumbed to the mad curse of
Dudleytown. Are you sick?
Just answer the question.
The car idled. I could only imagine the conversation Ricky and that dickhead were
having about the length of the skid marks gouging the gravel. And the quantity of dried
blood splattering everything. Somehow I felt they were more on task than we were.
Squash.
Shannon stopped in the process of sorting things and he actually choked on a
laugh. You never told me that.
I frowned back at him. It s a very competitive sport. And professionally, my
parents felt it would be a good social skill for my future. Or something. Doctors play
squash, golf, and racquetball. At least, that s what they told me when they locked me
inside that little glass room with a towering guy in blinding white shorts. I learned the
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hard way just how stressful a sport named after a vegetable could be. And I played
Ultimate Frisbee which is really awesome.
Probably where you smoked weed, too.
Not probably. Certainly. Do you have a point?
Yes. Shannon placed a rock in my hand. It was as big as my fist hardball sized. I
stared at it while he explained. Here s what I think and if you can think of something
better, you need to tell me right now.
See what I mean? He actually asked for my opinion. That s hot. Unfortunately, all I
could say was, I got nothing.
Okay. So you re going to peg that fucker with a rock and I m going to take him
down. We ll get one shot to do this because we need to surprise him, and "
This is your plan? This? I hissed and added sarcastically, Although, it s so crazy
it just might work.
Don t be an asshole. We need to rely on our individual strengths "
Did you get that from a leadership text book? Because I don t think "
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