Critical Incident, Prologue

~Prologue~

Corinne West pulled away from the Starbucks drive-up window with her sugar-free vanilla latte and turned westward, away from Interstate 35. Rather than continue on the crowded Interstate through San Marcos to the Texas State Capitol, at this point in her daily routine she always left the freeway for the winding back roads of the Texas Hill Country. She liked the way the rural journey relaxed her in preparation for another grueling day of investment banking at Evans and White, the small Austin firm where she worked.

Though it happened rarely, today Corinne was wondering if giving up her cushy flight attendant job for a finance career had been the right move. Slinging drinks as a sky goddess took a lot less brain power and produced a lot less stress than trying to save a dying dot-com corporation. But, she admitted, she liked the prestige that came with being a thirty year-old female power-broker in the male dominated world of high finance. That prestige hadn’t come from her striking good looks, however—she was just plain good at it. The only thing she missed from the airline job was the travel, and that wasn’t really gone—her husband was still in the business; an airline pilot with Liberty Air. She had all the free travel she wanted.

Corinne raced west down the winding Rural Route 12 in her Solstice convertible, slowed through the tiny hamlet of Wimberley, and then resumed her course northward. Her auburn hair jostled in the cool spring breeze that swirled around the open car. She loved the rush of the wind and for the thousandth time thanked her husband Trey out loud for giving her the convertible for her 30th birthday. She hugged the curves as the sun began peeking over the live oaks along the east side of the road. The brightening sky began to reveal reds and blues in the fields of Bluebonnets and Indian paintbrush that splashed the roadside. Corinne took in a deep breath and savored the cool, fragrant air. She couldn’t help but smile. She loved mornings like this.

Fifteen miles north of Wimberley, rounding another curve on a road that saw sparse traffic this early in the morning, Corinne was a little startled to see a petite young woman in a white blouse and flowered skirt standing in the middle of the road trying to flag her down. Corinne downshifted and slowed as she took in the scene. Off to the side of the road was the woman’s beat up gold Chrysler, hood up, steam pouring out from the radiator. The woman was obviously in trouble. Corinne never usually stopped for hitchhikers, but this was different; the woman was alone and in trouble. Corinne could imagine herself in a similar situation. She pulled over and watched in her left side mirror as the woman ran up to her car.

“Thanks for stopping,” the stranded motorist panted, a little out of breath. “Daddy’s gonna be mad if I don’t get home soon with these groceries!”

The girl had short dark curls and was in her mid-twenties. She was wearing sandals, several gaudy necklaces and hemp string bracelets, and had rings on all fingers. She had a purse on her right shoulder that looked like it had been made from an old pair of jeans. Corinne thought the white peasant shirt made the girl look like one of those tree hugging granola types. She was probably a student at Texas State.

“My car overheated on the way back from picking up some stuff at the store. Could give me a lift? I live just a few miles up the road. Please?”

“Sure, I’m headed that way. Hop in.” Corinne leaned over and opened the passenger door as the woman ran back to her car, and then returned with a bag of groceries that she threw on the floorboards as she hopped in. As soon as the girl had her seat belt on, Corinne headed out.

“I can’t thank you enough,” the girl gushed with relief. “There’s not a lot of traffic on the road this early, and even less chance of seeing a woman driver. I didn’t want to have to ride with a strange man, but I wasn’t sure I’d have a choice. I’m so glad you stopped! By the way, I’m Summer. Summer Wayne.”

The girl smiled as she spoke, and then reached out and patted Corinne’s arm. Corinne couldn’t help but smile. She relaxed a little. The poor girl was so innocent!

“Corinne West.” Corinne offered her hand, but the girl just looked out the right side of the car and didn’t take it. Corinne turned to concentrate on the shadowy road.

“Gosh, I just can’t thank you enough,” Summer blurted out again. “This is so gonna help me out.” She had a distant look in her eye and a half-smile on her smooth face, as is she was thinking about something else.

“I’m just glad I could help.” Corinne thought the girl looked as if she had been smoking pot in the last few hours. She seemed a little out of it. “If I had been you, though,” Corinne added, “I probably would have just stayed in my car and used my cell phone to call for help.”

“Oh, I don’t own a cell phone.”

Corinne couldn’t think of anyone who didn’t own a cell phone. She guessed the woman to be pretty financially strapped, and her suspicion was confirmed when, about ten miles after picking the girl up, the girl directed Corinne to turn left down a two-track dirt road where, a few hundred yards from the road, lay what looked like an abandoned trailer.

“Here we are,” the girl said happily.

The house didn’t even look lived in. Live oak limbs hung low over the dilapidated structure, and the rusty metal roof was covered in leaves and debris. One of the windows in the trailer was broken out, and the grass surrounding the place was mostly weeds, very overgrown. If not for the late model F-250 parked by the trailer, Corinne would have guessed the place to be deserted.

“Thanks again for the ride,” Summer gushed. “Let me pay you for your trouble.” She fumbled for some money in her denim purse.

“Hey, don’t worry about it. I’m just glad to have been able to help—”

Corinne was staring down the barrel of a large caliber handgun that had come from the girl’s purse.

“Turn the fuckin’ car off and get out. Slowly.”

“Okay, sure, anything you say. I’ve got money, whatever you want, just take it.” Corinne felt a knot in her stomach, felt the saliva disappear from her mouth. She was scared.

“Get out of the car,” the girl said again. “Do it slowly. Don’t try to run. My daddy has a high-powered rifle aimed at you from inside the trailer, so if you try to run you’re dead meat.” Summer’s voice sounded cold, calculated. All trace of innocence was gone. “Get out,” she screamed, and waved the gun toward the driver’s door.

“Okay, okay, take it easy.” Corinne slowly got out while staring at the broken window in the trailer. She didn’t see anyone in the darkness behind the jagged glass, but she couldn’t take any chances. She tried to swallow, but her mouth felt filled with cotton. This girl probably just wants my money, Corinne thought, trying to reassure herself. She tried to calm down as the girl came around from the other side of the Solstice.

“Now head for the trailer.”

Corinne felt the gun pointed at her back as she walked quickly to the dilapidated shack. Her mind was racing. She thought briefly about turning on the girl, but the hippie was hanging back just far enough so that Corinne would never reach the gun before the first shot went off. Corinne chose to obey the girl for now.

“Don’t shoot, Daddy,” Summer shouted toward the window. “We’re comin’ in.”

The door to the trailer was unlocked. Corinne opened the door and stepped inside. The gloom, rot and stench almost overpowered her.

“Keep moving,” the girl snarled behind her.

As her eyes adjusted to the gloom, Corinne saw that they were in a living room. The place was a mess. The furniture looked twenty years old, mildewed and rotted, and it looked like wild animals were nesting in the stuffing. There was trash and filth everywhere. She didn’t see the girl’s daddy.

“Left, down the hall,” Summer motioned with the barrel of the gun.

Corinne walked slowly down the hall, past a small bathroom that reeked of sewage. Glancing in, she saw that something had stained the toilet brown, and the vinyl floor was curling up in all the corners. A shower curtain covered with gray mildew hung halfway off of a plastic rod.

When Corinne entered the bedroom, her heart stopped. It was no bedroom. There was a bed in it, but it was obviously not used for sleeping. Apparently, the woman behind her had no intention of letting her go unharmed. The bed was just a dirty mattress, but there were restraints at all four corners. On the floor along one wall was a leather satchel that had been unrolled to reveal knives and tools that Corinne guessed were for things that could only result in pain and death. Corinne had walked into a torture chamber.

“Keep moving,” the girl ordered, and jabbed Corinne in the back with the tip of her weapon.

Corinne moved further into the bedroom, and began to understand what was in store for her. Her eyes began to tear up. “Please. Take the car. Take everything. Just don’t do this.” Corinne feared for her very life.

“Lie down on the bed on your back, and spread your arms and legs out toward the four corners. DO IT!”

Corinne turned to crawl up on the bed. She saw at its foot a strange dildo-like instrument that was mounted at the end of a shortened broom stick. Corinne’s mind formed a desperate plan. Even if it worked, she would still have to get past the man lurking somewhere in the trailer, but she was determined to go down fighting. Her hands shook with fear, but she knew she was going to die anyway, so it was now or never.

As she turned to sit on the bed, her right hand grasped the dildo apparatus and she whipped around and slashed at the girl’s hand holding the gun. The gun fired wildly as it flew out of the girl’s hand, slamming against the wall of the room and bouncing down somewhere on the floor.
Summer Wayne screamed in anger and pain. She started, just for a second, to go for the gun, but then stopped, realizing that she was going to have to fight her captive to keep her from escaping the room. She started shouting for her daddy, and her moment of inaction allowed Corinne another blow.

The broomstick cracked hard against the side of the girl’s head, and she staggered back in the direction the gun had gone. Corinne dropped the stick as she raced out of the room and down the hall to the front door of the trailer. She couldn’t breathe, expecting at any minute now to run squarely into the arms of the girl’s father. She reached the door unhindered, flung the door open and ran outside, screaming in the hopes that someone would hear her. She flew to her car, waiting for the high-powered rifle shot. It didn’t come, and she began to think that the hippie girl had lied about her dad being in the trailer.

She didn’t even stop to open the door, just vaulted into the driver’s seat of the convertible. Oh God. Corinne didn’t have her car keys; Summer must have taken them from the car.

Corinne was functioning on pure adrenaline. She shoved open the driver’s door and rolled out onto the ground beside the car and, in the blink of an eye, pulled out the hide-a-key that was stuck to the frame underneath. She watched the door to the trailer as she fumbled to get the key out of the metal box. Summer didn’t appear. Maybe I killed her, Corinne thought as she got the spare key out, tossed the metal box aside, opened the door to her Solstice and dove in. She frantically tried to get the key into the ignition. She couldn’t get it; her hands were shaking violently. She breathed for what felt like the first time as the car finally roared to life. Then her heart froze. Summer came staggering out of the trailer with the gun, blood running down the side of her head.

“Stop, you bitch!”

Corinne stomped the gas pedal and spun the wheel, and the car pulled a hard one-eighty, spitting dirt and grass as it roared around and headed back toward the highway. Corinne heard one shot from the pistol, but nothing hit the car. As she tore down the path, she saw in her rearview mirror her captor going for the pickup parked at the trailer. Before Corinne could round the curve she saw the pickup racing after her.

Out onto RR 12 she raced, and without thinking, turned right, toward home. Had she gone left, ten miles down the road she’d have reached Dripping Springs. But, her rush of adrenaline was wearing off, and she couldn’t think straight. She began to scream, driving with reckless abandon. She peeled down the asphalt, the pickup right on her bumper. She heard no more shots, and for a second, wondered why. She raced down the highway, her heart beating as fast as her car was going. She couldn’t see ahead because of the blinding glare of the sun as it rose over the trees. She realized then that Summer probably couldn’t see well enough to shoot at her because of the glare.

“Oh, God,” she prayed, “please help me. Let me see Trey again.” She tried to shield the sun’s glare with one hand and ended up in the gravel on the shoulder of the road. Lurching back on the roadway, she changed her prayer, hoping to see another car, any car, from which she might be able to get help. Behind her, the crazy hippie woman was right on her tail in the beat up 4x4.

A car!

Corinne began to feel she might be saved, and then her hope was overcome by terror. The car she had spotted and started to slow down for was the gold Chrysler belonging to Summer Wayne. Its hood was still up, but the steam that the girl had conjured up to fake car trouble had long since dissipated.

Corinne had already started to pull over before realizing whose car it was. When she recognized it, she panicked. She jerked the wheel away from the disabled car that had originally lured her into this deadly trap. Corinne looked back and saw that her pursuer was as close as ever. Corinne thought she could see the woman laughing. She guessed the woman had recognized Corinne’s attempt to get help from the abandoned Chrysler. Corinne was mortified by the pure evil in the woman chasing her. She forgot to look where she was going.

There was a sudden thump under Corinne’s car. It was a reflector pole the Solstice took out as it missed the left hand curve and ran off the right side edge of the road. Several more thumps came in the next instant as Corinne fought to regain control of the car. She jerked the wheel back to the left, and the front tires clawed at the pavement while the rear tires began to slip on the gravel edge. The car was sliding sideways!

In the next instant, Corinne found her mind clear, and a single thought was present. Trey had always teased her that a convertible was not safe to drive; but God how she loved this car.
As that thought lingered, the car flipped, and rolled six times before coming to rest upside down in the middle of the road. Corinne wasn’t under it; she had been thrown from the car and now lay in the road about ninety feet back from where the car came to rest.

Summer Wayne slowed when she saw the car going over, and now braked as she pulled up alongside the broken body of her prey. She saw the impossibly twisted neck and the blood and brain matter. “Please don’t be mad, Daddy,” she cried aloud, “I didn’t mean for her to get away.” Her look of unhappiness changed into a wicked grin as she focused on the crumpled woman in the road. “You should be happy,” she cried at her victim as she passed, “you died a lot quicker than if I’d gotten my way with you.”

She started to spit on the girl, and then stopped herself. “Nah, nah, nah, you won’t get me to leave evidence that easily.” The girl sped up, steered around the overturned Solstice that sat smoldering and steaming as fluids ran onto the blacktop, and then accelerated off into the sunrise, toward Wimberley.

“It’s okay Daddy,” Summer laughed out loud as she pulled off the short brown wig and stuffed it into the glove box. “There’ll be plenty more girls for you to have your way with.” And she was gone.