White Hot Pistol. Eric Beetner
Читать онлайн.| Название | White Hot Pistol |
|---|---|
| Автор произведения | Eric Beetner |
| Жанр | Ужасы и Мистика |
| Серия | |
| Издательство | Ужасы и Мистика |
| Год выпуска | 0 |
| isbn | 9780989212946 |
WHITE HOT PISTOL
Stark Raving Group LLC – Publishers
P.O. Box 1451
Beverly Hills, CA 90213
Copyright © 2014 Eric Beetner
First Stark Raving Group edition 2014
Cover Design and Illustration: Eric Sasso
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in whole or in part without written permission from the publisher, except by reviewers who may quote brief excerpts in connection with a review in a newspaper, magazine or electronic publication; nor may any part of this book be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording , or other, without written permission from the publisher.
All the characters in this book are fictitious, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
ISBN: 978-0-9892129-1-5, 978-0-9892129-4-6
Electronically printed in the United States of America
Distributed by Consortium Book Sales and Distribution and Bookxy
Contents
CHAPTER 1
Nash remembered the first time he escaped this town. Six years ago, he drove the same stretch of highway, only then he didn’t have his little sister asleep in the passenger seat. Back then, Jacy was only eleven.
She needed to escape for many of the same reasons. This town, a speck on a map, a town full of nothing but dead ends, it bled you dry. And then there was Brian.
The Stepdad.
Technically Jacy was Nash’s stepsister, and neither was Brian’s blood child. He was Mom’s third attempt at happily ever after, and the third time was decidedly not the charm.
Nash never had to deal with what Jacy had to from Brian, though. Nobody should have to deal with what she did.
The dashboard clock was in the single digits of the morning. He’d waited for hours outside the house, waiting for her to make her escape. He fought to stay awake, and now he was jealous of her snoring in the seat next to him. She’d gone to sleep so fast, so easy. Probably the unwinding of the noose around her neck as they cleared town limits. They could feel the rope loosen, even though Noirville is so gnat-shit small there’s no sign telling you that you’ve left. It’s such an unremarkable feat, why waste the paint?
He couldn’t be too mad at her deep slumber. He knew the feeling of freeing himself from the bonds of this town, these people. Still, his head nodded, searching for sleep, and the steady rhythm of the highway made it worse.
Nash reached into Jacy’s purse for a smoke. He’d quit years ago, but after breaking his stepsister free from the gates of hell, he felt he’d earned it. Plus, the buzz would keep him awake.
He kept his eyes on the road as his hand swam inside the bag. Everything felt the same, like rooting through a garbage can, until he settled on the gun.
Nash lifted it out of the purse to confirm he was right. A small, snub-nosed .38.
Yeah, he thought, not a bad idea. He couldn’t be angry at Jacy, not after what she told him. A gun seemed like a damn good idea. But no cigarettes.
He saw a sign for a rest area ahead. They hadn’t cleared very many miles, but a short stop for a Coke out of the machine wouldn’t be a risk. Unless something unusual happened, Brian wouldn’t know Jacy was gone until morning, and by then, they’d be in another state, tracing Nash’s old escape route to safety.
Nash folded the top flap of her purse over to close it enough so the gun wouldn’t slide out. He felt grateful he hadn’t come up with a glass pipe out of her purse. Crystal meth seemed to be the number one high school sport in town lately. A far cry from the occasional pot and stolen beers of his own youth.
He knew she’d tried it but didn’t know how truthful she’d been about how many times. Not that a little bump of crank wouldn’t get him across state lines in record time. He’d settle for a caffeine jolt instead.
The rest area showed up as a glow on the horizon a half mile away. With no other lights around and a flat midwestern landscape, the tall light posts had nowhere to hide. There were no secrets on the Great Plains. Not outdoors anyway.
Nash still couldn’t believe he’d come back. He’d turned around and never looked back the day he left. He thought of Jacy, now and then, but it wasn’t like they were all that close growing up. He was already ten when she was born. When she turned seven, her father was out, and Brian was in. By eighteen, Nash was gone, and her nightmare was about to begin.
When she told him the timeline of when it all began with Brian, Nash couldn’t help feeling a little responsible. With him out of the house, the green light was lit for Brian to begin his late night visits to her bedroom. To her bed.
She begged Nash to come home, to help her get out the way he had done before. He couldn’t say no.
Escape was the best