Dirty Secrets

Part 86

"IED. I got that goin' for me," Packer said dabbing his forehead wound with two fingers.

Lyla shrugged. "I don't know what that is."

He paused, examining the coagulated blood on his fingertips.

As the truck rounded the curve, the headlights revealed that the rocky walls which had bordered the side of the road for miles had finally transitioned into hilly stretches of field grass. The mountainous winding asphalt pathway, with edges softened by a gathering mist, gently descended into farmland.

Packer enunciated. "Intermit...tent... Explosive... Disorder."

"That's not even a real thing, is it?" she asked.

"I got the receipts. That's... that's my diagnosis."

She kept her eyes on the road.

"I blackout for no reason," he continued. "Mostly it's... it's related to stress."

"Stress? You're like the most chill person I ever met."

"When I'm on my meds."

Through the windshield, Lyla saw the city lights dotting the horizon. She felt a little more comfortable at the wheel of the truck on the widening suburban streets, gray shapes of buildings not far ahead.

"What's the explosive part?" she asked, not sure if she really wanted to hear his explanation.

"When I come out of it, I'm like super... super angry and aggressive."

"You?"

He nodded. "Used to be a lot... a lot worse. The meds and counseling got it... got it under control."

"For real? You're not making this up?"

"It totally... sucks. But awesome cover, right?

Lyla wasn't sure where he was going with this. "Cover?" she asked.

"I had a blackout. I don't remember any... remember anything about putting on the exo... Taking the truck. Nothing. Total... blackout."

She raised an eyebrow. "You think anybody's gonna buy that?"

"I'm gonna sell it... hard." He grinned.

He seemed to be facing the evolving dark chain of events with equanimity, or perhaps he wasn't contemplating the full extent of their circumstances.

"Things always work out," he said. "Usually."

She stopped the truck behind Jack's car at a traffic signal then let out a defeated sigh.

"And how are you gonna explain what you and me and Jack were doing up on that hill?"

"Who's gonna know?" he asked.

"They're gonna find out, don't you think?"

Packer continued. "You said you... you disabled the camera, right?"

She nodded. "I totally smashed the hell out of it."

"Awesome. So the only... the only people that saw... that saw us there..."

"They're all dead." She thought for a minute. "Except for Junebug."

"He's probably still running." Packer grinned at the thought of it. "We'll never... never see him again."

"Hope not."

"Would you... would you come back if you... you were him?"

"That's a hard no," she said.

Propelled by a gust, road debris tap-tap-tapped Lyla's window. The light changed and she followed Jack through the intersection. When she steered through the curve she choked at the sight of the devilish little girl standing at the side of the road, her tattered dress fluttering in the wind. Lyla hit the brakes, the truck lurching forward.

Packer grabbed the door handle. "What? What happened?" 

A renegade length of soiled fabric caught in the fingers of a naked bush flapped in the breeze, conjuring images of the chalky-faced creature in her well-worn dress.

"I thought it... I'm okay." Lyla took her foot off the brake pedal and followed Jack's car.

He studied her. "You sure?" he asked.

She nodded, then continued on.

"The only thing," Packer said. "Only... is the cops."

"Cops?" She didn't like the sound of that."

He glanced into the side view mirror. "My mom definitely called... the cops by now. And she... she definitely called your dad."

Not expecting to return, Lyla never considered what she'd say to her dad when she got home.

"So... so the thing is..." Packer said. "I need to get this truck back... back before the cops... cops find us. Or it's all over." 

"So we just gotta power through," she said and accelerated. With the truck closing in on his bumper, Jack sped up.

"Look," Packer said. "You guys can't come... can't come into my plan." He shook his head. "The whole neighborhood has... has security cameras. They're... everywhere."

The sound of a siren coming up from behind the truck clamped her throat.

He leaned back to get a better look at the side view mirror.

Her heart sank. An ambulance with flashing lights and a blaring siren roared past. She exhaled a sigh of relief. "Didn't need that," she said.

"So..." he said. "You and Jack..."

"No, no. It's not like that."

"I mean tonight. You and Jack. You work out... you got your own story. But I'm not... I'm not in it."

Her brow furrowed as she ran it through her mind.

"I never..." he began. "I never saw you tonight. You didn't see me, either. Right?"

She shrugged. "So, wait a minute," she said. "How do we..."

"We stop at the bottom... the bottom of the hill. You get out. And I... I drive up to my house."

"How can you drive?" Her eyes grew misty at the thought of it.

He pushed the button on the control band around his wrist. A green light pulsed.

"Looks like it's still... still gotta charge. Enough to... to get me up... up, up to my house. I can't walk but... I can move... move my feet."

"But technically, you're not supposed to operate heavy machinery." She smiled through watery eyes. "Says so right on the label."

He cracked up. 

She flashed her headlights at Jack, signaling for him to pull over. She steered the truck to the shoulder of the road.

"I can't let you take the blame," she said. "That's just not the happy ending I was going for."

"Come 'ere," he said and pulled her closer. "It's gonna work out okay." He kissed her, Lyla kissed back. "We did it," he said.

"You did it," she replied.

"No. We did it. You are, without a... without a doubt, the bravest person... I ever knew."

She kissed him again, reveling in the warmth of his embrace.