Chapter 53: Chapter 53: Mind Melt

CARTER

The steady thumping of his heart reminded him he was running. Tall shadows formed to block him, and in that moment he remembered where he was. His cleats tore grass as each breath roared in his chest. He sidestepped to look behind him and to the sky.

He clutched the ball tightly to his chest. Moves and countermoves shifted through his brain as he mentally reviewed the position of other players, the angles of their bodies, and the direction they would move. He went low to shrug off a tackle, rolled right, and turned to spot the Man in Black they’d sent to cover him charging from ahead.

He leaned right then dashed left, throwing the Man in Black off to slip past him with another spin. His gaze flashed to the in zone as enemies encroached from all sides. As someone tackled him from behind and he slammed down, clutching the ball, the phone rang.

“Carter!” His mother called from the next room. “Could you get the phone?”

He pushed up off the kitchen floor and took stock. The phone dock was still here in the kitchen, but where was the phone? He couldn’t remember where he had put it last, but maybe the backyard? The damn thing always seemed to get left in the rain.

There was a pepperoni pizza in the living room. It called his name. Carter walked in there and turned to his locker, which bore the name “Reed”. It was standing ajar.

Damn it all. He’d left his locker unlocked when he went out to practice. He hoped no one had slipped any lizards in there.

The phone rang again, this time behind him. He spun and looked for it on the bench, but the only thing on the bench was his Subway prep containers, most of which were empty. Had he dropped the phone in the olives by mistake? It was going to smell horrible now.

He needed to refill those containers before more customers came in, but he didn’t have anyone to watch the door while he went in the back. What if someone stole something? He needed this stupid job, and Subway John hated it when ingredients went missing.

Coach Haskell stepped out of the prep room. “Carter! The hell are you doing back here, son? We need you on the field!”

Carter snatched up his helmet and slapped it on. He fiddled with the chin guard as he hurried toward the cheering crowd beyond. “Sorry, coach. Thought there was a lizard in here.”

He jogged out onto the field to find he was too late. The game was already over, but at least his team had won. Andy and Elliot and a bunch of others were all tossing Rick, their kicker, up in the air to celebrate his winning field goal. At least that idiot was good for something.

Why had he been in such a hurry? His team hadn’t needed him at all. He was going to be in so much trouble when Subway John found out he hadn’t refilled the olive container.

Coach Haskell tapped him on the shoulder. “There’s a call for you.”

Carter took the old style flip phone from his coach and popped it open, then remembered he couldn’t listen to it with his helmet on. He pulled his helmet off and then glanced at Barb, who lounged in the passenger seat of his truck.

His high school sweetheart was a beautiful as she’d ever been, with shoulder-length brown hair, cute glasses, and her booted feet up on the dash. An open book labeled “Astrophysics” was sitting in her lap. She seemed intent, but all he could look at right now was the way her sexy little skirt slid up her thighs. She loved showing off her legs for him.

At the feel of his gaze upon her, she glanced at him and smiled. “What’s up?”

“Your grades.” He grinned. “How do you have time to fit all that stuff in your head?”

“Someone has to make contact with the aliens,” Barb said. “Might as well be me.”

He scooted across the cab. “There’s no aliens out there, Barb.”

“Oh really?” As she sat up and her brown hair cascaded down her shoulders, she blinked and turned her eyes bright green. “How do you explain me?”

Carter blinked as he fumbled about for the towel he’d used yesterday.

His phone rang before Barb could answer. He slapped his pants pocket for it and found it at last, the same flip phone he’d bought off Coach Haskell the last time they had a pizza party.

That’s what he got for losing a bet. He flipped off the TV, leaned back in his lounger, and put the phone to his ear. “Hello?” Hazy daylight poured in through the living room windows.

“Carter?” his Uncle Eli said. “Thank God.”

Fresh fear gripped his chest so hard he sat up so fast the footrest of his lounger seat. That sent a lizard scurrying for cover. “What’s wrong?”

He knew. He already knew what was wrong. Why was he even asking this?

“I just got word from my office,” Uncle Eli said. “They served Steven the papers this morning, and he apparently didn’t take it well.”

Carter stood and kicked the bench away. “They weren’t supposed to do that until tomorrow. You said that’s when we’d move Jenna to the lake house!”

“Apparently, there was a miscommunication.” Uncle Eli sighed. “There’s something else. I asked Steven’s manager to inform me if Steven did anything out of the ordinary, and he called me this morning as well. Steven left his shift early. He also gave his flask with Matt.”

“He loves that fucking flask,” Carter said. “Why would he...” His heart stopped. “Oh shit. He’s finally going to kill her, isn’t he?”

“We can’t know anything for sure, but I’m an hour away in another county and your parents are still on their anniversary trip. You need to get Jenna somewhere safe.”

Carter was already out the door and running for his truck. The once bright red paint had faded to brown over the years. His baby still had more dents and scrapes than vehicles that had been through a demolition derby, but he’d just put new tires on her and changed the oil.

She was still his truck. His baby, the first truck he’d owned and the one he’d fixed up right. She might look like he’d driven her in a tornado, but she still ran fine. With her as his ride, he could save his baby sister.

He hopped into the driver’s side, then remembered he didn’t have the keys. Fuck! How was he going to start his truck up with the keys? He had to get to Jenna.

“Carter!”

He jumped in his seat and glanced outside. There, Barb held the phone he’d tossed out the door. She banged impatiently on the raised glass. “We need to talk!”

Was she about to break up with him? He knew and she knew that she was going to go far west after they both graduated high school, while he was going to stay in Texas. No matter how much they loved each other, a long distance relationship wouldn’t work. He wouldn’t force her to hurt herself like that. He’d break up with her instead, but later.

He started up the truck and shifted her into reverse. “I have to get to Jenna!”

As he backed up he heard Barb shouting something about him driving off where he shouldn’t go, but he didn’t have time to worry about that now. How far was Steven’s house from their parent’s place? That was where Jenna was staying today, alone. His parents had wanted to stay with her, but she’d insisted they go take their anniversary trip.

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Carter shifted up a gear and hit the gas. His baby roared as she struggled to make up the missing time on these bumpy Texas roads. He had to get to his parents’ place before Steven rolled up and shot Jenna in the face. If he could get there first, they could run together.

He was just approaching the crossroads at the center of town when he spotted Steven’s bright red truck. Unlike his battered baby, Steven’s cherry monster was less than a year old. It was also lifted so high Jenna needed a stepladder to get up in it, which was stupid, because Steven never even took the damn thing off road.

The cherry-red truck pulled through the intersection before Carter could reach it, so he shifted up another gear and floored the accelerator. He visualized the angle he’d need to make the turn and screeched through the red light without flipping his truck, though from the way his baby rattled, he was all but certain he was going to put her up on two wheels.

His damn phone rang again—hadn’t he put the thing on silent?—so he picked it off and chucked it into the glove box. It stuck like a wet lollipop. Ahead, Steven and his lifted truck sped down the lonely two lane road toward his parent’s house past mile marker 14.

Carter chased after him. “No you don’t, you motherfucker!”

The glovebox popped open. His phone tumbled out, and he caught a glimpse of a woman with long dark hair waving frantically from the side of the road. He damn near broke his neck as he drove past—she was gorgeous in that corset top—but he didn’t have time to gawk at hot ladies now. Ahead, Steven slowed to make the turn up their drive.

The bastard wasn’t going to stop beating on Jenna. He also wasn’t going to let Jenna take their baby, little Steven Jr, away from him. As Steven’s truck took its right turn to cruise onto their driveway, Carter remembered how to stop him.

He also remembered he didn’t have a choice.

He thumped his dash and braced himself. “I’m so sorry about this, baby.”

They T-boned Steven’s truck had enough the whole truck slid down and cracked into the mailbox. Carter’s vision swam as dots danced before his eyes. He felt like he’d just taken a hit from a linebacker twice his size. Still, he managed to unbuckle his seatbelt.

He got the door open and stumbled out. He had to get around the back of Steven’s truck and get to him. First, to see if he was still breathing, and second, to get his gun.

Steven stumbled out holding his hunting rifle. This man could drop a buck from much further than the distance from his wrecked truck to their kitchen window, and Carter knew because they’d hunted together several times. Now, this man was hunting his little sister.

Jenna stood in the kitchen window of their parent’s sprawling one-story rancher, gawking at the scene and holding her baby. Steven’s baby. He wouldn’t let them leave...

Yet Steven wasn’t aiming at Jenna. He was aiming at Carter, and instinct honed from years of dodging tacklers whispered to him to dive right. That murderous motherfucker.

The report deafened him as the bullet zipped by his ear, and then he slammed into Steven like an opposing player who’d picked up a fumble on their twenty yard line. Steven was just as big as he was, though, and unlike that little cornerback he still felt bad about accidentally knocking unconscious when he hit him during the play, Steven could hold his ground.

They wrestled for the rifle as Jenna shouted to stop from the windows and, behind him, feet thumped on the road. “Stop it!” Barb shouted. “Carter, don’t do this to yourself!”

Carter wrenched the rifle away from Steven only to open himself up for a sucker punch. As he stumbled back and barely kept his balance, he had the good sense to toss the rifle into the yard. Before Steven could run for it, Carter shook off the stars and rushed.

He ducked Steven’s next punch and drove a blow into the man’s ribs. That sent the man flying into the side of his own truck. They both remained winded from the crash. As he turned to go for the rifle he’d foolishly tossed away, Steven hit him from behind.

“Stop it!” Barb shouted from his other side. “You don’t need to experience this again!”

They almost knocked her over as they grappled and kicked at each other’s legs, doing what they could to get an opening. Carter realized then Steven even stronger than he looked, and this man was real mean after he got a few beers in him. Carter took one punch to the ribs and another off the cheek that left stars dancing before his eyes.

Jenna, now running down the driveway with the baby, screamed for them to stop.

Steven shoved Jenna away and turned on them. He looked at the wife he’d put in the hospital two weeks ago, a woman with the nerve to serve him divorce papers, and stumbled toward the yard. That, Carter remembered, was where Carter had tossed his rifle.

Carter went after Steven and snaked an arm around his neck. The man gasped and struggled as Carter literally dragged him down the driveway. His vision was little more than red, his mind consumed with rage.

“No you don’t, motherfucker! You leave her alone!”

Steven finally tossed an elbow into his ribs, broke free, and spun around just in time to get a set of Carter’s knuckles straight into the bottom of his jaw. Carter felt he damn near broke his hand—you didn’t hit someone with a closed fist like that—but he’d been so full of adrenaline, fear, and rage he’d let instinct take over.

Steven managed one weak swing that Carter blocked easily, and then it was open season. A left hook rocked Steven backward and left him wide open for the blow Carter drove into his solar plexus. As Steven stumbled backward, he wheezed and raised one hand.

“Wait!” Steven managed, blinking through one swollen eye. “Just wait!”

As that wife-beating piece of shit stood there, pleading for mercy from the backside of his stupidly lifted truck, Carter found himself visualizing how Jenna must have cowered in the corner of their kitchen. She’d cowered just like this as Steven stood over her with one fist raised. He’d been full of booze and pissed she’d let the chicken get cold.

“Wait,” Jenna pleaded. “Just wait.”

Carter drove into Steven with a roar that deafened even his own eardrums. He tackled the asshole hard enough to send him flying straight into the back of the raised truck, where his back cracked loudly as it impacted the trailer hitch. The bumper was as high as Steven’s hips.

Steven dropped like he’d lost all will to fight and sat, blinking stupidly. He raised one arm as if to wave, but it wasn’t a friendly wave. He also wouldn’t stop hurting Jenna.

Carter marched forward and grabbed the release on the tailgate.

“Stop,” Barb ordered. Her round glasses gleamed in the bright Texas sun.

Barb’s strong hand gripped his and kept him from moving any further. He glanced her way in fury and tried to wrench his hand away. “Let go. Let me go!”

“You’re dreaming, Carter. I’m Allison, and I’m in your mind right now. I’m not your Barbara, and you’ve already saved Jenna. You don’t have to go through all of this again.”

Carter blinked as he struggled to free his hand. He struggled to make sure the man who wanted to shoot his sister couldn’t do so. Barb reached into her pocket and handed him his dropped phone. The moment Carter took it, it rang immediately.

“Answer it,” Barb ordered. “If you really do love me, answer the phone, Carter.”

Numbly, looking for the truck and for Steven and finding only an empty football field after all the fans had gone home, Carter flipped the phone open and put it to his ear.

“You can stop running now,” Allison said softly in his ear. She sounded a bit frustrated with him. “And next time, please answer your phone.”

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