Already Gone

– 25 –



I look down at my hands. They’re covered in blood. There’s blood on my clothes and in my hair. I can feel it on my skin and taste it in my mouth.

My heart is slamming against my ribs, and my legs are burning under me. Every instinct I have is telling me to run, but I can’t do it.

I take a step back from the blood, then see a dark shape duck behind one of the trees in front of me.

A shadow moving between shadows.

Coming closer.

I drop down next to Nolan’s body and try to focus. The wind is loud, but my breathing is louder. I hold it and listen for footsteps crossing the parking lot toward the car, but there’s nothing.

That scares me the most.

I feel something wet under me, and when I look down I notice I’m kneeling in Nolan’s blood. I start to get up, then stop and lean over and search his jacket pockets. I find his cigarettes and lighter, and I toss them aside and keep looking.

Eventually, my hand closes around a cold metal key ring. I pull it out, then step over him and climb into the driver’s seat of his car.

My hands are shaking, and it takes a minute for me to find the key. Every few seconds I look up and scan the park for movement, but all I see are trees and shadows.

When I find the right key, I start the engine, shift into drive, and hit the gas.

The car lurches forward.

I turn the wheel hard, spraying rocks and dirt into the air, then head toward the exit, fast. I clip the side of a tree, and the branches slap against the window. I yell and try to force myself to slow down, but I can’t.

The adrenaline makes it impossible.

Once I’m out of the park, I watch the mirrors to see if I’m being followed. I’m not, and the farther away I get from the park, the more I feel myself start to relax.

Out of habit, I turn south toward the university and home. After several blocks, I remember I’m covered in blood and driving a stolen police car.

Going home is a bad idea.

I pull off onto one of the side streets and park in an alley, away from any lights. I lean forward and rest my head against the steering wheel. My stomach is spinning, rising up into my throat. I swallow hard and try to push it back, but it doesn’t help.

I reach for the door handle and lean out.

Nothing comes up but bitter strings of spit.

I leave the door open, feeling the cold air on my skin, and try to figure out my next move. All I know is that I have to get off the street, but I can’t go home, and I definitely can’t go to the police.

That leaves one choice.

I feel my pulse radiating through my jaw and realize I’m clenching my teeth. I open my mouth slow, then lean my head back and stretch the tension away before pulling out of the alley and heading west, back to the warehouse district.





The gate is closed, so I park in the lot across the street and shut off the engine. I don’t get out of the car right away. Instead, I look up at the light coming through the second floor windows and think about what I’m going to say to Gabby. I’ll tell him the truth, but after our discussion earlier, I doubt he’ll believe me, and I’m sure he won’t be happy.

I cross the street to Gabby’s front door and press the black buzzer on the wall.

I wait.

No one answers, so I step back onto the sidewalk and look up at the windows on the second floor. The lights are still on, so he’s home. He has to be.

I press the buzzer again then knock, hard, and I keep knocking until I hear footsteps inside. When I don’t hear the latch, I knock again.

This time there’s a metal click and the door opens a few inches. I see half a face staring at me.

“Who the f*ck are you?”

“Where’s Gabby?”

“I said, who the f*ck are you?”

I start to tell him that I’ve had a shitty night and I’m not in the mood, but I figure that’s obvious from looking at me. Instead, I say, “Go get Gabby.”

At first I don’t think he’s going to move. Then the face disappears and the door swings open.

I step inside.

The face turns out to be one of the guys I saw in the basement when I came out of the elevator. He’s wearing the same shoulder holster, but this time the gun is in his hand, hanging at his side.

“You were here earlier.”

I tell him I was and that I need to talk to Gabby.

I tell him it’s important.

He looks at my face, then down at my shirt and says, “Is that your blood?”

“Some of it.”

He seems to think about this. Then he slides the gun back into the shoulder holster and says, “You know you don’t just show up over here like this.”

“I know,” I say. “Is he here?”

The kid motions to the stairs on the other side of the workshop. “Everyone is here. There’s been a lot of excitement tonight.”

I walk past him, through the workshop and up the stairs. I make it halfway before the door at the top opens and Gabby looks down at me.

“What happened to you?”

“Nolan.”

Gabby’s eyes go wide, and I can almost see the tension building inside him. I talk fast.

“He was in my house when I got home. He was waiting for me.”

I’m expecting him to explode, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t even look surprised.

“Where is he now?”

“Dead.”

This time, he is surprised.

He steps back from the door and looks down at his feet. When he comes back to me, he says, “Just tell me it wasn’t you.”

“It wasn’t me.”

I don’t think he’s convinced, so I start at the beginning. I tell him about finding Nolan in my house and him breaking my nose and driving me out to the park. I tell him what he said about the two men in the basement, how it was all an act, then about him unlocking the cuffs and letting me go. Finally, I tell him about the gunshot and seeing Nolan fall.

“You didn’t see who it was?”

“I saw a shadow, that’s it.”

Gabby looks at my nose, one side to the other, then he moves away from the door and lets me inside.

I walk into the hall. There are several people sitting in the living room. None of them look familiar. A few are talking, but they all stop when they see me.

I figure I must look pretty bad.

I ask Gabby, “What’s going on?”

He closes the door, says, “I want to hear everything Nolan said, especially about those two f*cks we had in the basement.”

There’s an edge to his voice that I don’t like, and I wonder if I made the right decision coming back.

I tell him everything.

As I go over my conversation with Nolan, everyone in the other room is quiet. They’re all listening.

Gabby waits for me to finish then says, “An act?”

“He said they only told us what they wanted us to know, but I don’t believe it.”

Gabby is quiet for a moment. Then he waves toward the hallway and says, “Go get cleaned up. We’ll find you some clothes, then we’ll figure out what we’re going to do next.” He takes Nolan’s keys from my hand. “Did you park across the street?”

I nod.

Gabby tosses the keys to one of the men in the living room and says, “The lot across the street. Get it and pull it around back.”

The man turns and is gone.

“What’s going on?” I ask. “Who are all these people?”

“Friends,” Gabby says. “I asked for their help.”

“What happened?”

“Kevin’s missing. He left to drop those two friends of yours at the hospital and never came back. We’ve got people out looking for him, but I haven’t heard a word.”

I feel a pinprick of ice form in my chest.

It starts to grow.

Gabby looks at me. “Do you know anything else about those two? Anything you’re not telling me?”

“No,” I say. “Nothing.”

Gabby nods. “There are a lot of eyes out looking for Kevin. If he doesn’t show up soon, they’re going to start looking for your friends.” He stares at me. “If I bring them back here, they won’t leave.”

“I thought you wouldn’t cross that line anymore.”

“Yeah,” Gabby says. “Me too.”