Her Broken Wings by D.K. Hood

Eight

Before dawn Wednesday morning

The morning frost sat in the corners of the windshield of Parker Louis’ truck as he waited for his friend, Tim Addams, to slip out to meet him. It was the darkest before dawn, and only a sliver of light escaped from the front door before Tim was in the seat beside him. Parker looked at Tim and grinned. “We should be able to get in and out before the first shift arrives for work.”

“Yeah, but we don’t want to be noticed driving around so early.” Tim chucked his backpack onto the back seat and then turned to look at him. “Drive nice and slow.” He looked around. “Good you left your rifle behind. If the boss shows early and catches us, we don’t want the cops saying we were armed.” A puff of steam came out of his mouth, surrounding him like cigarette smoke. “It’s freezing in here. Can I turn up the heat?”

“Sure.” Parker moved his truck away from the curb and drove away in stealth.

Excitement welled up inside him. The idea of sneaking onto a building site and stealing appliances before the installers arrived for work had been pure genius. The site boss left the cabins unlocked rather than risk giving the casual labor a set of keys. This lack of judgment made it easier for someone to rob them, and they’d be able to outfit their own places for nothing.

In the early morning, the blacktop glistened with small patches of ice reflecting in the headlights. Once out of town, Parker took the forest road and accelerated. He headed in the direction of the on-ramp to the highway. If the roads stayed clear, they’d make it to the new ski resort cabins within twenty minutes.

Ahead an old truck chugged along, the exhaust blowing a stream of smoke into the pristine alpine air. He passed it, honking his horn and giving the finger to the driver. The vehicle slowed and then pulled to one side. “He’s scared of us. Let’s have some fun.”

Parker drove for a few moments before taking his foot off the gas and coasting down to thirty miles per hour. He glanced in the mirror, waiting for the truck to pull out and pass him. He chuckled. He loved this game and allowed the vehicle to come alongside before he sped. The old truck accelerated and Parker floored the gas pedal. He whooped with excitement. “Man, look at the old fool, he’s figuring on racing us.”

Laughing at the sight of an oncoming eighteen-wheeler, he met the old truck’s speed, trapping the vehicle beside him. Air horns blared and the other driver braked hard. Parker looked in his mirror as the truck fishtailed and plumes of smoke poured from the tires as it tucked in behind him, narrowly missing the oncoming vehicle.

“Oh man, I figured the eighteen-wheeler would spread him all over the highway.” Tim laughed and turned around in his seat. “What a clown. He was determined to pass when all he needed to do was slow down.”

Parker peered in the mirror and slowed down again. “Here he comes. Do you think he’ll try to pass us again?” He gave Tim a slow grin. “Or is he chicken?”

“Forget him or we won’t get to the ski resort before the workers arrive—that was the plan, right?” Tim glanced over one shoulder. “I don’t think he’s gonna try passing us again.”

“I’ll make him.” Parker slowed his vehicle to a crawl and then waited for the truck to attempt to pass before speeding up again. Rather than play his game, the other driver dropped back. “Ha, told you he was chicken. Man, I think I saw smoke coming out his ears.”

“Maybe not, he’s coming fast. Step on the gas.” Tim hung onto the back of the seat. “Shit! He’s not gonna stop.”

A jolt from behind and the grinding of metal shot Parker forward. His seatbelt pulled him up and came close to strangling him as his truck slid across the blacktop. “What the hell?”

He jammed his foot down on the gas pedal and his truck jumped forward with a roar but fishtailed on a patch of ice. He wrestled with the steering wheel and tried to accelerate out of the slide. The old truck slammed into them again and like a battering ram pushed them off the road. As his vehicle bounced over the dead undergrowth, Parker aimed his truck between two tall pines. He let out a breath in a puff of steam as his prized possession came to a jarring halt in the dim light. He glanced in the mirror and gaped in terror.

The truck’s headlights lit up the highway with its twin beams. As the driver stepped from his truck, an eerie mist rose up and drifted across the blacktop, swirling like dancing ghosts. Dressed all in black, the stranger walked into the light, but his cowboy hat pulled low concealed his face. He carried a powerful hunting rifle in one hand and headed purposely toward them. Parker cursed under his breath. “Dammit, I left my rifle at home.”

They were defenseless. Parker stared in horror as the man slowly raised the rifle to his shoulder. Panic shuddered through him. “He’s not mad, he’s batshit crazy, and I’m not taking a bullet.” He pushed Tim hard on one shoulder. “Get out. He’ll never find us in the forest.”

He switched off the interior light then dropped out the door and, keeping low to the ground, headed between the tall pines, jumping blindly over the dry winter undergrowth. Behind him, Tim was breathing heavily. It was so dark, he collided with a tree and Tim crashed into him. Pain shot through his knee as he collided with a log and sprawled, tangled with Tim, on the ground. Under him, pine needles covering the forest floor dug into his jeans like shards of glass. He reached up for a low bough and dragged up his aching body to stand on one leg. Biting down in agony, he pushed on into the darkness. Low branches slashed at his bare cheeks, flinging icy water down his neck, but he kept moving.

“Slow down, you’re making too much noise.” Tim pulled on the back of his jacket. “Hide behind a tree and wait; he may have had his fun and be on his way.”

Trembling with fear, Parker stood with his back against the rough trunk of a pine and bent over, hands on knees, trying to suck the freezing air into his lungs. He could just make out Tim beside him, staring back the way they’d come. He lowered his voice to a whisper. “See anything?”

“No. Listen.” Tim’s pale face turned to him. “He’s coming after us.”

Parker shivered and every hair on his body stood to attention. The steady footsteps of the stranger crunched through the forest, and then a shape with green glowing eyes loomed out of the darkness. “Shit, he’s wearing night-vision goggles. Run!”

As he turned, a shot, earsplittingly loud in the quiet, connected with his left shoulder, red-hot pain searing in a thunderbolt of agony. He fell to his knees just as a second shot exploded in his head, and his sight blinked out like a candle in the wind.