The Slip

I walked out of the Glass Box with a gun in my hand and an accomplice in the passenger seat.

The car was a 2015 Honda Civic. Sasha's car. It smelled like cherry air freshener and nervous sweat.

"Where are we going?" Sasha asked. She was driving. Her hands were gripping the wheel so hard her knuckles were white.

"The police station," I said. "The one in the city. Downtown. Precinct 4."

"Why that one?"

"Because Julian doesn't donate to their bake sale."

We hit the highway. The lights of Aerie Point faded in the rearview mirror, but the feeling of being watched didn't.

I checked my burner phone.

No new messages.

The unknown ally—Sarah—had gone silent.

"Did you really see a mannequin?" Sasha asked. Her voice was small. Scared.

"Yes," I said. "In the sub-basement. It was wearing my clothes."

"And Julian was... talking to it?"

"He was practicing," I said. "He was rehearsing the scene where he saves me. Or kills me. I'm not sure which."

Sasha shuddered. "He's a monster."

"He's a director," I corrected. "And his show just got cancelled."

We drove in silence for ten minutes. The rain started again, drumming against the roof of the car.

Then, my main phone rang.

It was in my pocket. I had grabbed it from the nightstand before I went into the vent.

I stared at the screen.

*Caller ID: Julian Vance.*

"Don't answer it," Sasha said.

"I have to."

"Elena, no!"

I swiped green. I put it on speaker.

"Hello, Julian," I said.

*"You left without saying goodbye,"* he said. His voice was calm. Smooth. Like he was calling to ask what I wanted for dinner. *"That's rude, Elena."*

"I'm going to the police," I said. "I have the tablet. I have the script. I have a witness."

*"Sasha?"* He laughed. *"Sasha is a lovely girl, but she's not a witness. She's a participant."*

"What are you talking about?"

*"Ask her,"* he said. *"Ask her about the sponsorship deal."*

I looked at Sasha. She kept her eyes on the road.

"Sasha?"

"He's lying," she whispered.

*"Am I?"* Julian asked. *"Check her bank account, Elena. Check the wire transfer from Aerie Global Holdings. Fifty thousand dollars. A consulting fee."*

"Sasha," I said, raising the gun slightly. "Is that true?"

Sasha started to cry. "I didn't know he was going to hurt you! He said he just wanted to document the stress test! He said it was for the insurance company!"

I stared at her. My best friend. My only ally.

"You sold me out," I whispered.

"I needed the money," she sobbed. "My podcast was tanking. The rent was due. Elena, I'm sorry."

*"See?"* Julian said. *"Everyone has a price. Even the people who say they love you."*

"You're sick," I said.

*"I'm realistic,"* he countered. *"Now, pull over. Let's talk."*

"Go to hell."

*"Elena,"* he said, his voice dropping. *"Look in the backseat."*

I froze.

I turned around.

The backseat was empty. Just a gym bag and a yoga mat.

"There's nothing there," I said.

*"Look closer,"* he said. *"Under the mat."*

I reached back. I lifted the corner of the yoga mat.

And I saw it.

A small, black box. With a blinking red light.

And a timer.

*00:30.*

"What is that?" Sasha screamed.

"A bomb," I said.

*"It's a shaped charge,"* Julian corrected. *"Enough to turn that Civic into a convertible. You have thirty seconds, Elena. Pull over. Get out. And get in the car behind you."*

I looked in the side mirror.

A black SUV was following us. High beams on.

It was him.

"He's going to kill us," Sasha wailed.

"No," I said. "He wants me alive. He needs me to sign the contract."

"What about me?" Sasha asked.

I didn't answer.

*00:20.*

"Pull over," I said.

"What?"

"Pull over! Now!"

Sasha slammed on the brakes. We skidded to the shoulder.

"Get out!" I yelled.

We scrambled out of the car. The rain hit us instantly.

The black SUV pulled up behind us.

The window rolled down.

Julian was driving. He was wearing his tactical gear. He looked like a SWAT team leader.

"Get in," he said.

I looked at Sasha. She was shaking.

"Run," I told her.

"What?"

"Run into the woods. He won't follow you. He wants me."

"Elena..."

"Go!"

Sasha turned and ran. She disappeared into the tree line.

I stood there on the side of the highway. Just me and Julian.

And the bomb in the Honda.

*00:10.*

"Get in the car, Elena," Julian said. "Or I detonate it now."

"It's on a timer," I said. "You can't stop it."

"I can pause it," he said. He held up a remote.

I looked at the Honda. I looked at the remote.

I walked toward the SUV.

I opened the passenger door.

I climbed in.

Julian smiled. "Good choice."

He pressed a button on the remote.

*BOOM.*

The Honda Civic exploded.

It wasn't a huge fireball. It was a sharp, concussive blast that blew out the windows and buckled the roof.

If we had been inside, we would be dead.

"See?" Julian said, putting the car in gear. "I saved you."

He merged back onto the highway.

"Where are we going?" I asked.

"Home," he said.

"My house burned down."

"Not that home," he said. "Our home. The one I built for us."

"What are you talking about?"

"I bought a place," he said. "In the mountains. Off grid. No neighbors. No cell service. Just us."

He reached over and took my hand.

"It's perfect, El. You'll love it. It has a panic room."

I stared at him. He was insane. Completely, utterly insane.

And he had a gun on his lap.

I looked out the window. The world was passing by in a blur of rain and lights.

I needed a weapon.

I still had the Glock. It was tucked into the back of my jeans.

But if I moved, he would see.

I needed a distraction.

My phone buzzed. My main phone.

Julian glanced at it. It was sitting in the cup holder.

*New Message from Unknown Number.*

"Who is that?" he asked.

"I don't know."

He picked up the phone.

"Unlock it."

I hesitated.

"Unlock it, Elena."

I used my face ID.

He opened the message.

His face went pale.

"What is it?" I asked.

He showed me the screen.

It was a video.

A live feed.

Of the SUV we were sitting in.

From the backseat.

"There's a camera in the car," I whispered.

"I didn't put it there," Julian said.

He turned around.

There was no one in the backseat.

But on the headrest...

A small, black camera lens.

And next to it...

A speaker.

*"Hello, Julian,"* a voice said.

It was Sarah.

*"Did you miss me?"*

Julian slammed on the brakes. The SUV fishtailed.

"Where are you?" he screamed.

*"I'm close,"* she said. *"Very close."*

"I killed you!"

*"You tried,"* she said. *"But you missed the water. Remember?"*

The video feed switched.

Now it showed the road ahead.

A set of headlights appeared in the distance. Coming toward us.

Fast.

It was a beat-up Subaru.

Sarah's car.

"She's going to ram us," I said.

Julian swore. He floored the gas.

The SUV surged forward.

"She's in the wrong lane!" he yelled.

The Subaru swerved into our lane. Head on.

"She's crazy!" Julian shouted.

He yanked the wheel to the right.

We went off the road.

We hit the ditch. The SUV rolled.

Glass shattered. Metal screamed. The world became a kaleidoscope of mud and trees.

We landed upside down.

I hung in my seatbelt, gasping for air.

"Julian?"

He groaned. He was slumped over the steering wheel. Blood dripped from his forehead.

The gun had fallen to the roof of the car.

I unbuckled my belt. I dropped down.

I grabbed the gun.

I kicked the door open.

I crawled out into the mud.

The Subaru had stopped on the road.

The door opened.

Sarah stepped out.

She was limping. She was bleeding. But she was holding a shotgun.

She walked down the embankment toward me.

"Elena," she said. "Are you okay?"

"I think so."

She looked at the overturned SUV.

"Is he dead?"

"I don't know."

She racked the shotgun.

*Click-clack.*

"Let's make sure."

She walked to the driver's side. She leaned down.

"Hello, darling," she said.

Julian groaned. He lifted his head.

"Sarah," he rasped. "You look... terrible."

"You look like roadkill," she said.

She raised the shotgun.

"Don't," I said.

Sarah looked at me. "Why not? He deserves it."

"He does," I said. "But not like this."

I walked over to her. I held out my hand.

"Give me the gun."

"Elena..."

"Give it to me. This is my story. I get to write the ending."

She hesitated. Then she handed me the shotgun.

I looked down at Julian. He was trapped. Broken.

"Please," he whispered. "El. Help me."

"I am helping you," I said. "I'm setting you free."

"What?"

"You wanted control," I said. "You wanted to be the Director. Well... cut."

I didn't shoot him.

I shot the gas tank.

Fuel sprayed onto the hot engine block.

"Run!" I yelled to Sarah.

We scrambled up the embankment.

Behind us, the SUV exploded.

It wasn't a movie explosion. It was a dirty, loud, violent *whump* that shook the ground.

We stood on the road, watching the fire consume the wreck.

"Is it over?" Sarah asked.

I looked at the flames.

"Yes," I said. "It's over."

We got into her Subaru. We drove away.

We didn't go to the police. We didn't go to the hospital.

We drove to the coast.

We sat on the beach, watching the sun come up over the water.

"So," Sarah said. "What now?"

"Now," I said, "we disappear."

"How?"

"I have a burner phone," I said. "And I have a lot of crypto."

She laughed. "Leo?"

"Leo taught me well."

I pulled out the burner phone.

One new message.

From Unknown Number.

*Nice ending, Architect. But you missed a plot hole.*

I stared at the screen.

*Who is this?* I typed.

Three dots.

*Check the news.*

I opened the browser. I went to CNN.

*BREAKING NEWS: Body found in wreckage of luxury SUV near Seattle.*

*Police identify the victim as Julian Vance, CEO of Vance Crisis Management.*

*However...*

I scrolled down.

*Medical examiners report that the body found in the driver's seat... was already dead before the crash.*

*Cause of death: gunshot wound to the back of the head.*

I looked at Sarah.

"You shot him," I whispered.

"No," she said. "I didn't."

"Then who did?"

I looked at the text again.

*The body in the car wasn't Julian.*

*It was the man with the limp.*

*Julian wasn't driving.*

*He was in the trunk.*

I dropped the phone.

"He's alive," I whispered.

Sarah grabbed the phone. She read the text.

"Oh god."

We looked around the empty beach.

The fog was rolling in.

And in the distance...

The sound of whistling.

*Hush, little baby