Chapter Five

My lungs were burning and it took me a minute to realize I wasn’t breathing. If I had to bet on what I’d just listened to, I’d say it was the sound of Kevin’s head being cut off. At least that’s what it was supposed to sound like. That carving sound, the hissing of air, the waterworks, the rolling of the head.

It had to be a prank. There was no better explanation. No way had it been real. Yet, if that were true – and it must be, it must – then it meant my friends were master organizers, and Kevin had missed his calling as a Hollywood star. I had never before heard such terror in a man’s voice. Such genuine, primal fear.

I have heard it since, however. My own.

There were no streetlights on this backwoods highway. Utter darkness pressed against the windows. I pulled out my phone and almost crushed it in my hand as the battery icon flashed once, twice, and then went blank. It had been fully charged at the bar. I’m sure of it.

At least it had been before Caspian confiscated it. He must have drained it somehow, the mischievous prick. He was probably faking sleep right now.

“Hey, asshole.” I was not in the mood to be fucked with anymore. I grabbed his shoulder and started shaking him. His body rocked lifelessly. I shook him harder, rocking him against the side door. Harder, banging his head against the window. “Caspian. Wake the fuck up!”

He mumbled, blew air through rubbery lips. Paused, inhaled a snore.

Tiny pinpricks of light flashed in the rearview mirror. Headlights on the horizon, coming our way.

I slumped back against my seat, suddenly relieved. This whole setup must have something to do with that stupid goddamn book Solomon had gotten me to read. Right, okay. That’s what this was all about. He had even offered some cheese-dick warning when I was leaving the bar; I had just been too distracted to pay attention. He had been tipping his hand.

Christ, how long had they been putting this together? Was that the point of the whole reunion, just to fuck with me? Why?

Because I was the domesticated one, that’s why. The one in most need of a little thrill.

“This is good, Caspian,” I said, still unsure whether or not he was pretending to be asleep. “I don’t know whether to be pissed or impressed. I think both.”

I could now hear the hum of the engine from the approaching car. The headlights were growing brighter.

“So, what now? We just sit here?”

Caspian continued to quietly snore. These bozos must have gone to Martin Scorsese’s acting school.