13

Bryce was terribly uncomfortable crunched up in the trunk of Clyde’s car. His long lean frame was contorted over a now-full bladder. His mind raced until he hit upon something a former girlfriend once babbled about. What was it she’d said? She saw it on Oprah, or got it in a forwarded e-mail, something like that. It was about if you are ever stuffed into a trunk of a car, what to do. Ah! He remembered. Kick out the taillight. Someone would notice. Hopefully the police.

Bryce kicked and kicked. He had no idea if he was anywhere close to the taillight area, but his foot was hitting on something. He struck out again and again until his heel popped some kind of latch. What was that? Had he popped open the trunk? Yes, the road noise and the rush of air confirmed it. He was free!

He was not bound, gagged, or restrained in any way. Clyde had simply pushed him into the trunk, held him down, and slammed the lid over him. Nothing hurt really, except for his pride. All he needed to do now was climb up and jump out, and hope he could get far enough away before Clyde noticed the trunk lid was open. His opportunity for escape came right away, when Clyde slowed for a four-way stop.

Bryce didn’t wait for the car to stop. He hoisted himself up onto his knees, then, as quickly as he could, he climbed out of the trunk and jumped onto the road. He didn’t look behind him, but ran on nearly-numb legs, hoping the adrenaline would give him the strength and speed he needed to slip away before Clyde could get to him.

Clyde, confident that Bryce wouldn’t be able to get out of the trunk, was unaware of his escape. Not a big fan of defensive driving, Clyde didn’t make much use of mirrors or overall attentiveness. His driving time was his down time for personal recreation. He was currently snacking from a new bag of Peanut Butter Bugles while quoting along with “The Notebook”. He didn’t notice the trunk was open until he parked the car in the garage.

“What’s that?” asked Tom.

Paul froze. He could hear Clyde slamming around in the garage, cursing, throwing things. “That would be my brother in a foul mood. I better go see what’s going on.” As he headed out to the garage, using the door located in the back of the kitchen, Serena returned to the kitchen.

With Paul gone, she could speak freely, but she whispered to be safe: “Tom, he has the e-mail, the one from Karen’s friend in Iran.”

“The kids are in the car.”

“I know, we have to get them out of here.”

Tom rose to leave just as Paul and Clyde came in. Clyde snarled, “Where do you think you’re going?”

“Clyde, calm down, he just finished his coffee. I haven’t talked with him yet…” Paul placed himself between Tom and his brother.

Clyde pushed Paul out of the way and grabbed Tom’s arm. He pulled him back into the chair. “Toss me some duct tape. It’s in the junk drawer.”

“I don’t think this is—“

“Necessary? Necessary Paul? That’s what you were going to say? Well I didn’t restrain that idiot Bryce and now he’s gone. Won’t make that mistake twice. Give me the tape!”

Paul rooted around in the drawer, found the tape, and handed it to Clyde. “There’s not much left.”

Clyde secured Tom to the chair by wrapping the tape around Tom’s middle and the back of the chair, over and over again until the tape was almost gone. He gave Paul the rest of the roll. “Tape his ankles to the chair legs. I’m getting more tape.”

As soon as Clyde left the room and Paul was bent over, working on the ankle taping, Serena leaned close to Tom. “Hang in there honey, it will be ok,” she said. She tried to give him a meaningful glance but his eyes reflected puzzlement. What was his wife up to? Whatever the secret code was, he didn’t get it.

Paul looked up. “Sit down, Serena. You’re going to be next.”

“I guessed as much. I want to put my chair next to Tom’s.” She slid her chair near him.

“No, put it back. I don’t want you to try to get him out.” Paul bent over to work on the second ankle.

“Okay, I’ll put it back,” she said, and made sliding noises with her chair while slipping her hand under Tom’s waistband. Fortunately Clyde’s duct tape was above his belly button, nowhere near the handle of the gun. The gun slid out easily. and before she knew it, she was holding a gun, a real loaded gun. If she had time to digest that information she would have been intimidated, but she was reacting on auto-pilot now, feeling nothing, just doing what she needed to do.

Serena held the gun to Paul’s head. He looked up at her from his kneeling position near Tom’s legs. His eyes registered surprise, but surprise was quickly replaced by mirth. He snickered. “You wouldn’t shoot me.”

Serena cocked the gun. “I’m Momma Bear and my babies are threatened. You have no idea.”

Clyde entered the kitchen from behind Serena, sized up the situation and grabbed a large cast iron skillet. Tom saw him and yelled “Look out!”

Serena whirled around, firing the gun without thinking twice. The bullet hit Clyde’s arm. He dropped the skillet. Serena dropped the gun.

Then they both started screaming. Clyde sounded like a wounded animal, Serena hit an octave she normally reserved for when she saw a mouse. The two screamed and screamed, the guttural strangled scream conjoined with the shrill siren scream. The combination shook up the kids in the car.

Carrie called 911. So did a couple of the neighbors. No one knew what was going on, but whatever it was, it sounded like a bloodbath, and then suddenly it was quiet. They thought they heard a gunshot, but weren’t sure. The kids were terrified but did not get out of the car. The neighbors locked their doors and stayed away from the windows. Everyone waited for the police to arrive. As they waited, the foursome inside the house took stock of the situation.

Serena broke the silence. She also picked the gun up from the floor and waved it at Paul. “Go stand next to your brother.”

Paul didn’t move. He looked at her, stunned.

“Now! Go, go! Or I’ll shoot you too.”

Paul did as she wanted. He moved close to Clyde and stared at his brother’s arm. The wound did not look life threatening, but it did look ugly, and painful. Clyde examined it scornfully.

“What’s your plan, lady? I bet you don’t know what to do now that you’ve shot me,” said Clyde. He spat into the sink from his position a couple feet away. “Do you even know why we have you? We weren’t the ones who were going to kill you. They won’t care if you’ve shot me or not. They want me dead too.”

Serena looked at Tom. “Paul, I want you to let my husband out. And then he is going to drive our kids somewhere safe.”

“I’m not leaving you here, Serena!” said Tom.

“Then let’s make this fast so I can go too. Paul, get that tape off of him. Start talking. What did you want with us? Why do you have that e-mail from Iran? How do you know Bryce?” Serena held the gun with both hands. She was struggling to hold her arms steady. She also realized that Paul was not in her line of fire anymore. “Clyde, go stand next to Paul. Go!”

Clyde moved a few steps in that direction.

“Okay, good enough, stay there, don’t move.” Serena adjusted her stance so that both men were covered by the gun.

Paul took his time cutting the duct tape, stalling. The sooner he freed Tom, the sooner Tom could take over. If there was a reason to shoot, he didn’t think Tom would stop at a flesh wound. “I have the e-mail because Bryce sent it to me. He works for President Williams. Williams knew about everything before the Big War. There’s a cover up. They want to get rid of anyone who knows about it. You’re the target. So am I, and Clyde. We were planning to help you. You shot the wrong guy.”

“I don’t trust you. What aren’t you telling me?” Serena asked, looking from one man to the another.

“What he’s not saying is that we planned to give you to Williams to save our own skin. You’d have done the same,” said Clyde.

“What about Bryce?” asked Tom. He flexed his ankles, the first part of him that Paul had freed. Paul worked on the duct tape girdle next.

“Bryce escaped. I had him in the trunk. He got out. It’s just down to you now,” said Clyde.

Paul added, “Now we have nothing. With him gone and you with the gun, we have no leverage. You might as well shoot us -- it would be better than whatever they’ll do to me after they put me in prison.”

“Would they have killed you anyway, even if you had me and Bryce?” asked Serena.

“We have that e-mail. I’ve sent it to several safe places,” said Clyde. “And we had a plan to record our meeting with them. We’d have enough incriminating evidence to keep us alive. It would have worked. It still can if you play along.”

“No thanks. I don’t need your plan. You have enough proof with the e-mail. All I have to do is tell the FBI,” said Serena.

“That didn’t help your friend much, did it?” said Paul. “What protection do you expect from them? William’s team found you even when you joined Off Ghost. We’re better than witness protection. If we couldn’t hide you, they can’t.”

“I’ll go to the top,” said Serena.

“He is the top,” said Clyde.

“You’re forgetting about President Kinji. She has just as much power as Williams,” said Serena.

“Theoretically,” said Clyde with contempt.

“The police are here,” said Tom.

“What are you going to do? Press charges? You’ll kill us all. William’s people will find us,” said Paul.

“The police are already at the door,” said Serena.