The Loop by Nicholas Holloway

Author:Nicholas Holloway [Holloway, Nicholas]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781733229111
Publisher: JPM Publishing Co.
Published: 2019-09-27T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

Green

Adull pain thudded within his skull.

Gal opened bloodshot green eyes, and the world began to spin. Bright sunlight blinded him through broken glass. His cheek rested against the firm support of an airbag. The burn of stomach acid seared his esophagus on the way up. He closed his eyes, opened the driver side door, and vomited. Wiping his mouth, he squinted through the brightness.

The front of the jeep was smashed against the trunk of a large Jeffrey pine.

He groaned, sidled out of the driver seat, and nearly slipped in his own sick. The engine was smoking. Judging by the irregular inward tilt of his front tires, he could only assume that the front axle was irreparably bent.

Forcing himself to focus, Gal looked around to gauge his surroundings.

His boots scuffed against an unpaved dirt road. Tall Jeffrey pines surrounded him, sunlight filtering through bright green canopies. Swaying on jelly legs, he choked back a dry-heave and wobbled up the road to higher ground.

He found the summit of a small hillock and breathed in a fresh blast of cool mountain air. The snow-capped peaks of The Loop towered all around him.

To his right rose a broad cliff face, red rock covered in lichen. It reminded Gal of copper peppered in green oxidation. He knew the cliff face well, having climbed it in his youth alongside his older brothers – the backside of Reversed Peak.

To his left, a dirt road swung down about a quarter mile until the pine trees met soft yellow sand. The wind shifted. He could just make out the faint rumble of a boat engine and the giggling of children splashing in the water.

The beach at June Lake.

In that moment, Gal knew exactly where he was, but couldn’t remember why he was there. He bit back the throbbing hangover constricting his brain. He closed his eyes and took in another lungful of sweet, crisp summer air.

The last thing he remembered was a mouthful of mud. He had been running and he had slipped. He had been running… from what? He remembered the taste of whiskey and coke, remembered the taste of ice water, remembered the taste of Amber’s lips.

The Tiger Bar.

He remembered Amber’s voice, not sweet and soft, but firm and cruel. Get out, he remembered her yelling. He remembered the swing of her hand. Gal touched his cheek and felt the slight sting of a raised welt.

She hit me.

He remembered the feel of her body as he brushed past. He remembered a very large bar tab, remembered rifling through his wallet. And then he remembered…

The eyes.

All the eyes staring at him. Reprimanding him. Accusing him. He remembered the television. He remembered the four o’clock news. He remembered seeing her face, remembered that a family from out of town had found her, remembered seeing the tarp. Remembered that it was labeled with his last name.

Gal’s eyes snapped open.

A fresh wave of nausea rippled through his core like a violent tide constrained by an unstable levy. The levy suddenly cracked, broke, and a tidal wave of panic flooded his entire world.

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