Page 96 of Going Once

Instead, his eyes narrowed and then he burst out laughing.

“That’s what they told me at the hospital. ‘You’re crazy, Hershel.’ That’s what they said.”

Her heart skipped a beat. “I thought your name was Bill Carter. So you’re not only crazy, but you’re also a liar? Well, that’s just perfect.”

Hershel yanked her to her feet, then slapped her.

“Shut the hell up,” he snapped, then threw her over his shoulder and carried her to the boat. He dropped her unceremoniously into the standing water that had collected in the hull.

She screamed as something slithered beside her arm.

He glanced down at her and frowned.

“There’s a snake in here. Get me out! Get me out or you can’t make it right!” she screamed.

Hershel panicked, and before he realized it, he was following her orders. He dragged her out of the boat, then used an oar to find and flip the snake out into the river.

“You better make sure there aren’t any more in there or you’ll die out here, too,” she said.

Hershel stirred the paddle through the water several times, and then went back to the truck and began digging around in the junk in the truck bed for a bucket. As he did, he realized there was a bag of garbage from the Red Cross center still in there that he’d missed dumping in the bins. All of a sudden the sudden appearance of the vulture made sense. It had smelled the rotting food. He laughed again, relieved to have deciphered the mystery, and threw the trash out into the woods.

“You were wrong, Louise! That vulture wasn’t an omen. It just wanted the garbage in the back of my truck.”

He found the bucket, then went back to the boat and began bailing out the water until he was certain there was nothing else in it. Then he tossed the bucket into the boat and Nola after it.

She was lying in several inches of water, which was stretching the cotton even more, and pulling as hard as she could as Hershel crawled into the boat. He took the oar and pushed them out into the current, then started the engine. The moment it roared to life, Nola could feel her life grow shorter.

She could see very little from where she was lying other than birds, blue sky and the occasional jet trail. With no way to judge where they were, she didn’t know how much longer she had left to try to get free. Besides, she realized, even if she’d been sitting up in the boat, whatever landmarks she might have recognized were either washed away or under water.

The outboard motor was a roar in her ears, blocking out all other sounds, and the floor of the boat was vibrating against her back as it sped through the water. She glanced at his face, trying to judge his demeanor. He didn’t appear panicked or particularly deadly. If it wasn’t for the pistol on his hip and the Taser beside him, she might have thought they were simply out for a leisurely ride.

Knowing she might never see Tate again was heartbreaking. They’d lost precious years of their past because of his father, and now they were going to lose their future because of a madman.

Although she couldn’t hear him, when she realized the man was talking to himself again, her panic increased. Despite the raw and bleeding flesh around her wrists, she continued to struggle with the cords, pushing and pulling, pushing and pulling, repeating the process over and over until all of a sudden one hand slipped free. Relief was physical, but brief. Now if she could only get her ankles free, she would have a fighting chance.

When he began to slow down, she panicked. They must be getting close. If she was going to make a move, it was now or never. She began working her ankles as hard as she had her wrists.

He saw her moving around in the boat and yelled at her, but she couldn’t hear what he said. To hide what all her movement was about, she raised herself up to a sitting position and screamed a curse at him.

He laughed and pointed the Taser at her again, and when he did, she finally noticed it wasn’t ready to fire. Seconds later she felt the cords beginning to give around her ankles. It wouldn’t take much more than a kick or two and her legs would be free, as well, so she stopped, waiting for the right moment to make her break.

* * *

Hershel eased off on the gas and began scanning the area, looking for landmarks. He remembered what the water had looked like before, but everything had changed. After the second round of storms that had fed into already flooded areas, even trees that had been there before were gone. He remembered coming around a bend and seeing the three people on the roof of a house, and then about a hundred yards or so farther down there had been a stand of trees, which was where Nola Landry had taken refuge, and where she’d witnessed what he’d done.

“They’re gone,” he muttered. “Everything is gone.”

It’s a sign, Hershel. It’s a sign from God that you need to stop. You have to turn back and let her go.

“Louise, can’t you see I’m busy? I’ll talk to you later, after I’m done with her.”

I’m telling you, stop! Stop now!

Hershel began hitting his fist against the side of his head, trying to pound the sound of her voice out of his ears. “Shut up! Quit yelling!”

Nola could see he was freaking out. If Louise was yelling at him, then it was now or never. She kicked the cords loose from around her ankles and jumped up.

Hershel was so shocked to see her untied and upright that he froze, and when he did, she leaped at him, grabbing for the gun around his waist. All of a sudden the boat was rocking from side to side, and he was struggling to keep from falling out.

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