Part 4:

We Are So Screwed

Time flashed backwards and then forwards, stopping on the important points. The shopping trip on Rodeo drive, the search for the Mountain Dew and beef jerky… Nick leaving with the car and the strange call at midnight… The long drive to the middle of nowhere, the stop at the seedy motel with the nasty desk clerk, the warehouse coming into view… And finally, there was Nick, pulling Brian into the darkness, the long run from two unseen evils to freedom, and the gun shots… Brian’s mind hit on each one until he was snapped harshly back into the reality of what was happening now. Nick had been shot, and the two men who were chasing them were only steps away.

Brian looked up, making eye contact with the man holding the gun. He shuddered at the dark, blazing eyes and large strides as the man advanced on them, his arm out straight, the gun pointed right between Brian’s eyes.

"Don’t fucking look at me!” the man screamed in a voice full of adrenaline and anger. "Don’t you even fucking look at me!"

Brian carefully lifted Nick’s head out of his lap and lay it down on the ground, never breaking eye contact with the man with the gun. He tried to speak. Tried to plead his case, to beg for the life of himself and his friend. But before he could say a word, he was slammed upside his head with the barrel of the gun. When that didn’t knock Brian down, the guy made sure that the next one did. With a second smack, the barrel cracked against Brian’s face, and he spun right and crumpled on the ground beside Nick.

His head was foggy, but Brian was aware that one of the men had him by the ankles and that he was being dragged across the gravel, back in the direction from where he and Nick had come. Sharp pains burst in his temple, and he could have sworn that a few of his back teeth were missing as the taste of blood filled his mouth. He was also aware that Nick was being dragged along the ground beside him. Squinting through the darkness, he could just make out Nick’s body, arms outstretched, chin tilted towards the sky, his whole body still.

He listened to the conversation between the two men. His head was getting cloudy, and it would feel so good to just sleep…

"These two fucking idiots piss me off. Everything could have been so simple if they would have just followed the plan.”

"What does it matter anyway, Mo? So you killed St. Nick. We were going to kill them both anyway, weren’t we? But hey, at least St. Nick made it interesting,” Gus said with a deep, rough laugh. "He made you hunt him down instead of just shooting him like a dog.”

The last song Brian had heard on the radio, as he pulled up to the warehouse, now filled his head. It was "Alive" by Pearl Jam. How ironic that a song called "Alive" would be playing loudly in his mind when he knew that he and Nick were most certainly dead.

***

Nick was having the most beautiful dream. He was on a beach with pure, white sand as far as the eye could see and incredible, turquoise blue waves lapping at the shore. A beautiful, dark-haired girl held him tightly by the hand, running in front of him, looking back over her shoulder every so often to make sure he was keeping up. Her smile was wide, and her eyes dancing, and when she giggled, it reminded him of the sound of wind chimes.

Nick threw his head back in laughter as the girl began to run faster and faster, his feet tripping in the deep, soft sand as he stumbled and then regained his balance. And then, suddenly, he felt a strange pain. A deep stinging in his gut that made him stop running and drop the girl’s hand. She stopped as well, turning to face him, taking his hand back into hers as she squeezed it tightly with reassuring eyes.

"Who are you?" he asked, his voice barely audible over the crashing waves.

She just giggled at him, her eyes trailing down his chest to his stomach. Then, stepping back from him, she dropped his hand and began shaking her head over and over, her once dancing eyes becoming cloudy and full of fear. Nick followed her gaze, looking down to his bare, tanned stomach. It was covered in thick, red blood.

"What the fuck happened to me?" he gasped, his voice lost somewhere in the air. "Why am I bleeding?"

When he looked back up, the sky had turned a dark, threatening swirl of black and gray, and the once calming, turquoise waves were pale and raging.

The girl was gone.

Looking back down again to his stomach, he tried to stop the blood that was now flowing. But it wouldn’t stop. Why wouldn’t it stop? As fear overcame him and his body began to shake, Nick looked anywhere for comfort and felt his eyes drawn towards the sea.

So, doing the only thing that seemed right, he slowly walked out into the angry waves and let them swallow him whole…

***

7:30 a.m. New York

Leighanne woke with a start, her eyes blinking open, her heart pounding in her chest. She had been having a horrible nightmare, the details of which she couldn’t now recall. Throwing the covers back, she stretched and sat up, looking over to the other side of the bed, still not quite used to it being empty.

Her acting workshop had been the best thing she had ever done. It had brought new life into her stale world and had made her feel like she was "somebody" again instead of a Backstreet Boy’s wife. She was renting a wonderful loft in the heart of New York City, where life was fast-paced and invigorating and so much more exciting than married life had become.

Walking out of the bedroom, across the open space where the TV and sofas were, she stopped to put on a pot of coffee and then went to retrieve the newspaper from the front stoop. Locking the door behind her, she leaned against it, clutching the paper to her chest and thinking back to the last conversation she and Brian had had the day before.

He had been angry and defiant, accusing her of having an affair before finally slamming the phone down in her ear. She had merely called to warn him of the separation papers so that he wouldn’t be surprised when they arrived. She felt it was the least she could do. And she was glad that she had been able to get the divorce idea out in the open before he cut her off.

Leighanne had known that she and Brian weren’t a good match from the beginning. She wanted fame and glory, and he was already experiencing that and was looking forward to a future where he could take a break and just relax. But she had allowed herself to get swept up in his southern charm and sweet disposition. She loved seeing her name linked to his in all of the magazines as well as her face beaming on Entertainment Tonight while she gave them a sneak peek at her wedding preparations. And she had to admit, it had been exciting to be with a guy that millions of girls had pinned up on their bedroom walls and wept over while he sang on stage. Someone that so many other women wanted, but could not have. But over the last year, she had begun to admit to herself that no matter how hard she tried to mold and shape Brian, they would never be that kind of classy Hollywood couple that she longed for them to be. No matter what she did, Brian would always be that down home kid from Kentucky. A guy who was happy to be in a t-shirt and jeans, surrounded by little kids in a big house with a white picket fence and a boring old porch swing. When what she wanted was a penthouse in New York, surrounded by grand furnishings and gorgeous jewelry that she could wear while they attended plays and premieres, decked head to toe in Armani, while photographers screamed their names.

Spreading the paper out in front of her, she grabbed a mug from the counter and poured herself a cup of steaming, black coffee, and then she reached for the phone. Every few days, she checked the messages at both of their homes to keep up on what was going on. They often traveled back and forth so much that their friends and family had a hard time keeping up with them, so it wasn’t unusual for them to have a dozen or so messages at both houses with people trying to track them down. She first dialed the phone number to the Florida home, waiting for the beep to punch in her four digit code to retrieve messages…

"Hi Leigh, it’s Mom. I’ve been trying to get a hold of you, but you must not be leaving your cell phone on. Sweetie, I hope that the workshop is going well, and I know that you and Brian will work things out. If you get this message…”

Beep. Leighanne hit the star button to move on to the next message

"Hey guys, it’s Kevin, just checking in to make sure everything is okay. I haven’t heard from you in awhile, Bri, and we need to all get together to hammer out the recording schedule for the…”

Beep. Hitting the star button again, she yawned. She was surprised that Brian hadn’t already called Kevin to let him know how awful she was being and that their marriage was all but over. But then again, she guessed it didn’t surprise her, since Brian looked up to Kevin and would probably not want to admit to his cousin that he wasn’t able to make his marriage work. Knowing Brian, he wouldn’t tell anybody until months after the divorce was final, hoping that he would be able to still put the pieces together.

"Hey Leigh, it’s me. I just wanted you to know that… well, I just wanted you to know how much… I love you, Leighanne. I always will, and if anything happens to me, I want you to know that I don’t blame you for what happened to the marriage. Some things are just not meant to be…”

It was Brian. Leighanne sighed at the sorrowful sound of his voice, a part of her wondering if she was making a mistake.

"I also wanted you to know that Nick and I are in trouble…"

Oh great, he was with Nick. The one guy she didn’t want him to be with. Where Nick was, there seemed to always be trouble lately, and she had explained to Brian more than once that being with Nick was like living next door to a trash dump. It brought your property value down.

"I was told not to call the police, so I am going to try and fix things on my own. If you don’t hear from me again, have the police go to this address… I love you, baby. Don’t ever forget that.”

Leighanne quickly hit the pound key to rewind Brian’s message again. What the hell was he talking about? Was this some kind of stupid prank dreamed up by Nick to get her to come back to Brian? Listening to the message again, she was even more confused the second time. Hitting the pound key one last time, she walked to the kitchen and grabbed a pen and piece of paper and jotted down the address that Brian read off twice and then hung up the phone, forgetting to listen to the rest of the messages.

Tapping the pen on the kitchen counter, she tried to make sense of what Brian had said. Her first instinct was to call Brian and ask him what was going on, and why he would play such a stupid game with her? But she thought better of it when she recalled their last conversation and how angry they had gotten with one another. So instead, she decided she would call Howie.

The day before yesterday, she had run into Howie coming out of Barneys, his hands full of shopping bags, a tall exotic woman on his arm that he introduced as Collette. Leighanne knew that she had caught him off-guard when he asked where Brian was and she had replied “Beverly Hills,” moving onto the next topic without much explanation.

She and Howie had always been polite with each other, but never very close. He asked her to join them for lunch, but Leighanne had declined, and then he had told her that he was going to California for a few days and would be staying at the Beverly Wilshire. He said he would give Brian a call, although she doubted it, since Howie never really hung out with any of the other guys when they were on break. They had exchanged a friendly hug and kiss on the cheek before he and Collette climbed in a chauffeur-driven town car and headed uptown.

Looking at the clock now, with the phone in her hand, Leighanne debated what to do. Knowing that Brian and Nick were together, she realized that this could be some drunken stunt on their part that Brian would regret in the morning as he slept off a hangover. Or something could really be wrong. It was still early in California, so, tossing the notepad with the address to the countertop, she decided that she would finish her coffee, take a shower, and then give Howie a call. Maybe she would ask him to give Brian and Nick a call and see what kind of trouble they were up to so that she herself could avoid any more problems with Brian until the separation papers arrived on his doorstep.

***

Mo and Gus worked quickly, dragging the two boys’ bodies into the warehouse and shutting the heavy, metal garage door with a bang. Gus walked down along the front of the warehouse, making sure that all of the padlocks on the doors were secure so there wouldn’t be any more escape plans, although it didn’t look like St. Nick would be doing much escaping his current condition.

While he was busy doing that, Mo pushed his lighter out in front of him, flicking it on, and made his way over to the Excursion. He opened the passenger door, the interior lights turning on, and dropped his lighter back into his shirt pocket. Climbing in, he pulled himself over to the driver’s side and made himself comfortable.

First, he looked around the inside of the car, running his hand along the dash, flipping down the visors, and checking the seats. The only thing he found of any interest was a faded, blue baseball cap with a white K sitting in the passenger seat. Plopping it on his head, he moved to the glove compartment, where he found a bunch of rental agreement papers, a box of Altoids, and a pair of expensive-looking sunglasses. Taking the sunglasses, he stuffed the rest back in the glove box and shut the door. Looking around, his attention was drawn toward the console between the seat. Jackpot.

Smiling to himself, Mo reached down and retrieved a gold wedding band, an incredible watch with the word Rolex gleaming up at him from the cobalt blue face, and a worn leather wallet.

"Son of a bitch,” he murmured to himself as he flipped open the billfold to reveal a thick wad of bills that made his mouth water. Pulling the money out, he could see that it was mainly one-hundred-dollar bills, crisp and clean as if they had just come from the bank. "Who the fuck are these kids?" Putting the bills back in the wallet, he also saw that there was one platinum card, an ATM card, a video rental card, and a driver’s license.

He pulled the license from behind the plastic window and, holding it up to the map light above him, he clicked it on and studied the face in the picture. He realized that he had only talked to the kid on the phone; he had never actually seen his face. Even when he had hit him in the head with the gun and dragged him back to the warehouse, Mo had never really looked at his face.

The license said his name was Brian and that he, like St. Nick, lived in Florida. From his birth date, he was a little older than he looked in the photo, and for some reason, he reminded Mo of his kid brother, who had died when they were teenagers.

As he went to put the license back in the wallet, he noticed a picture beneath it. A small photograph of a woman with blonde hair and a not-so-innocent smile. Mo wondered why her picture was in the wallet. Was she his sister, girlfriend, wife?

What the hell did he care. In another few hours, he wouldn’t have to worry about St. Nick and Brian from Florida. In a couple of hours, this would all be over. He and Gus would have some cash and goods to sell for even more cash and everything that they had done to achieve it would all be a faint memory.

Gus worked quickly, flipping Brian over on his stomach as he tugged his arms behind him and tied them with some rope. The warehouse filled with light as Mo turned on the headlights to the Excursion, slid out of the car, and walked back towards them. He stood above Gus, watching as he planted a knee in Brian’s back to give him leverage to secure the rope tighter before he tied the knot. Then Gus stood up and walked down to Brian’s legs. Pulling them together at the ankles, he looped another length of rope around them and tied another knot.

Brian lay there still, his body exhausted and in pain, his mind fading in and out of reality, as white shooting stars went off in his eyes from the earlier blow to his head. He knew that he was being tied up and that he was facedown on the cold concrete of the warehouse floor. He could not see Nick, but the stench of blood was heavy in the air, so he knew he must be near by.

"You don’t need to tie up St. Nick,” Mo said, as Gus moved to grab another piece of rope. "He isn’t going anywhere. Look at him. At the rate he’s bleeding, he’ll be dead in an hour.” He nudged Nick with the toe of his boot, then knelt down beside him. The kid’s breathing was shallow and raspy, and his skin had gone a strange shade of grayish white. One of his blue eyes was open slightly and turned up towards the sky. Mo reached out and placed a finger over Nick’s eyelid, shutting it so that he could have some peace.

"How do we know that he won’t get away?" Gus asked over Mo’s shoulder.

"How do we know he isn’t going to get away? Well, we know that because he has been shot twice in the gut and he is barely breathing. Plus, in a half an hour, there will be more blood on this fucking floor then there will be in his body. And you sort of need your blood to live, asshole.”

"That’s going to be one big goddamned mess to clean up,” Gus moaned in a whiny sort of voice. Mo turned to look up at him, a look of irritation on his face. "What?" Gus asked, twirling a piece of rope around his hand.

Ignoring him, Mo stood up and walked away. "Follow me. I need to talk to you outside.”

***

Brian waited as the two men walked in the direction of the Excursion. He heard one of the garage doors being lifted and then lowered shut, and then there was silence. He waited for a split second and then rolled onto his back, his hands bound beneath him, his ankles tied with two pieces of rope. They had taken just long enough tying him up and debating over what to do with Nick that Brian was able to clear his head and regroup. He had prayed for a miracle, and one had finally come.

There was no telling how long they would be outside or what they would be talking about. Kicking his feet, he thrust his legs out over and over, working the sloppy knot that Gus had tied around his ankles. Obviously, Gus had not been a boy scout, because even in Brian’s state, he could feel that the knot that Gus was tying was not going to be strong enough to hold. As he was kicking, he also worked his hands behind his back. Gus had tied that knot slightly tighter, and his hands would not budge. "Shit,” he hissed, flailing around, his forehead covered in perspiration that ran down his face and stung his eyes.

He could see Nick lying on his back only a few feet away. Blood was still seeping from his wounds, pooling around his body, and Brian could hear his raspy, slow breathing. The vision motivated him to try even harder to break the ties that bound him.

And then it happened.

With a final thrust of his legs, he could feel the ropes go slack and slip down his ankles. Pulling his right leg up, it came loose from the ropes that now dangled freely around his left ankle.

Sitting up, Brian kicked the ropes off of his ankle to the ground and rolled over onto his knees. Crawling over towards Nick with his hands still behind his back, he leaned down and whispered into Nick’s ear.

"Nicky… Nicky, it’s me. If you can hear me, I want you to know that I am going to get you help. I swear to God, I am not going to let you die. You just have to believe in me.”

The whole time he spoke, he continued to work the knot at his wrists with his fingers. It was getting larger and easier to manipulate, and he knew it would only be matter of seconds and he would be free.

"Listen buddy, I know that I am taking a big chance, but if I don’t try, we are dead anyway. Do you know what I am saying? Everything is going to be okay, Nick. I’m going to make sure of it. You just need to hang on. You saved me back there, and I’m going to pay you back.”

Slipping the middle finger of his right hand under the now loose knot, Brian pulled as hard as he could and, finally, the knot gave away just enough that he was able to wriggle his sweaty hands out from between the circle of rope that bound his wrists together.

Pride in himself was put to the side, as he stayed focused on what he needed to do. Dropping the rope to the ground beside Nick, he wiped the sweat from his forehead and rubbed his watering eyes. Looking down, he smiled at Nick, wondering if it would be for the last time.

"If we don’t get out of this alive, Nick, I’ll see you in Heaven, buddy,” he whispered, standing up. "I’ll be the one wearing the Kentucky hat and holding the Carter sign at the pearly gates.”

Crouching down low, Brian ran towards the Excursion, his eyes glued on the boarded up window that he had first noticed when he pulled in the warehouse. He knew that time was of the essence, and he was going to make every second count.

***

Nick lay on the floor of the warehouse, listening to the steady rhythm of Brian’s shoes on the pavement as he ran away. He couldn’t move his arms or legs, and he was so cold. He wanted to return to that raging sea in his dream. At least there, the water was warm, and he wasn’t in pain. Letting himself relax, he began to slip back into his dreamlike state, Brian’s last words echoing in his head.

"Everything is going to be okay, Nick…”

And while he wanted desperately to believe the words that his friend had said, all Nick could think was, We are so screwed.

***

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