Excerpt: Internal Affairs

Charlie raced the car down the lonely stretch of state highway on his way home. Staying with his sister had sounded like a good idea. Quiet, rural. Nights filled with crickets and hoot owls not sirens and traffic.

Unfortunately, his nightmares were still with him. Lisa had tried to wake him and got a fist to the jaw as her reward. He left. He didn’t want to lose the only family he had left. Or at least who still talked to him. His dad didn’t count.

Although he’d have almost welcomed the threatened beating from his brother-in-law. Lisa had done well in her choice of husband. Bo was very protective of his wife and two daughters. One less thing for Charlie to worry about.

Other things kept crowding his mind these days.

The crack and echo of a gunshot.

Flinching at the memory, Charlie gripped the steering wheel harder. The sound stayed in his head, like a song he couldn’t shake. Even now, pain radiated through his chest from his wound. Across the side of his scalp. He gasped for air as the sensation took him back to that day. A collapsed lung, punctured by a bullet, had felt as if he were drowning.

Dizziness started again. The panic attack the department shrink kept droning on about. Logically, Charlie knew what it was. He refused to let it win.

The car swerved into the shadows of trees lining the road. Charlie slammed on the brakes, skidding off the road into loose gravel. Momentum carried the car farther into dirt and overgrown weeds.

When the car finally bumped to a stop, Charlie rested his forehead on the steering wheel. The smell of gunpowder filled his nostrils. The burst of gunfire, screams, orders yelled… The taste of blood.

The flashback hit hard. His body tensed, muscles twisting in painful cords, as he struggled with hands that weren’t there, pulling him back, holding him down.

His fingers went numb as he clutched the steering wheel like a life jacket in a tidal wave. Sweat made his hands slick, trickled down his forehead and back.

“Control.” Charlie drew a breath. A half-assed attempt. Small gasp, no oxygen. Again. A deeper one this time, maybe half a breath. A little more.

His foot held tight on the car’s brake. Muscles in his leg cramped from the exertion. Freeing one hand, he slammed the car into park then killed the engine.

Leaning back into the seat, Charlie closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Let it go. Let it go. Let it go. His mind whispered the words over and over like a prayer.

Six weeks. How much longer?

Forever.

The hostage died. A rookie cop near Charlie did too. Two other cops injured. All because Charlie’s smart ass attitude set off a killer.

Sounds of impending sunset echoed through the woods. Bullfrogs croaked a counterpoint to the high-pitched chirp of crickets. At one time in his life, Charlie thought the sounds of nature were as close to celestial choirs as he’d ever get. Now, even lowly creatures taunted his failure with their chattering noise.

Charlie popped open the door hoping for a breeze. Fresh air emphasized the acrid odor of sweat and fear locked up in the car. Slow breaths, each a little deeper than the last. His racing heartbeat began to slow to something closer to normal.

The orange glow of the sunset eased into darker shades of red, purple, then gray. Twilight settled on the day as Charlie drew a deep breath.

Time to get back on the road.

With a final deep breath, Charlie turned the key. The grinding and clicking wasn’t what he expected. The car had been running after he came to a stop. If something were wrong, the engine would have died.

Climbing out of the car, he examined the damage. The front bumper had grazed over a couple of bumps that didn’t really qualify as a ditch. No real damage. Popping the hood, he checked connections to the battery. Nothing wrong there.

He tried to start the car again. Nothing.

“Well, fuck.” Almost halfway home, he was still about fifteen miles from the outskirts of Memphis. He punched up the number for the department motor pool. They could find a tow truck to send.

His phone chirped the failure to connect sound. “Shit.” Checking the signal, he had no bars. “Great.”

He walked down the road a little ways, watching a bar jump up then disappear. Each time, he paused and changed direction. All he needed was one bar for a couple of minutes.

Stumbling off the road, the signal led him into a copse of trees. Dusk made the ground difficult to follow. The moon was rising but not enough light filtered through the trees. A clearing ahead brightened, as did his signal.

“Yes.” Holding the phone up toward the sky, he punched redial. Another step forward—

His right foot hit something rock solid. His left already lifting threw him off balance. Flailing arms didn’t save him. He hit the ground hard. His breath whooshed out of his lungs. Hands and knees stung against gravel-laden earth. His cell phone flew forward, hitting an upright stone.

Upright stone? Crawling forward, he grabbed his phone. Pointing the cell’s face forward, the light revealed a monument. The year—eighteen-twenty-five—was barely readable in the weathered headstone.

“Shit.” Charlie scrambled to his feet. Not that he was superstitious or anything but his luck lately sucked. Clambering around on someone’s grave wasn’t an offense he wanted to add to his long list of karmic fuck-ups.

Heading out of the clearing using the light on his phone, he realized he had been in the middle of an old cemetery.

His shoulder scrunched up as a shudder whipped down his spine. His late granny’s words flashed in his mind.

Someone walking on my grave.

He’d never understood the concept but it seemed to fit. A nervous laugh escaped as he returned to his car. He sat down in the driver’s seat with his legs still out of the car. Dead car, dead phone and a cemetery full of dead people. “Great.”

As a last ditch effort, he turned the key again. The engine revved into life.

“Yes!” Charlie twisted into the seat, ignoring the minor aches and pains from his fall. He’d survived a bullet in the chest. He would survive a skinned knee.