Swiped: A Romance Thriller

Chapter 6 (scene break)

The phone lay under cool shade up against the rocky wall face. Bank sat in the same position next to his phone. He continued to press at his neck. For now, there was no blood, but an infection was almost inevitable. He checked the phone every minute. To the touch it was cooling off. It was taking longer because hot airy winds blew across the face of the cliff.

He knew what to do when the phone did come alive.

Call his wife.

Kayla's tracking skills were matched by none. Okay, maybe a few had the skills, but she chose to leave the FBI as they never made use of her as they should have. She always complained about that, that she could have been doing more—much much more.

She'd locate him, rescue him from this place burning inferno.

For Kayla to do that though Bank knew his battery would have to last. He'd have to turn the sucker off as soon as it turned back on from the warning advisory. But first he'd have to call his wife, the police. And if none answered, he'd call Iris, who just got a phone for her 16th birthday. That would leave safe measures so that at least someone knew about his predicament.

His job came to mind. Christopher, his boss, would be throwing a massive fit. Not showing up to the meeting this morning. But whose to say it hasn't been several mornings. Bank couldn't even think. Why the hell was he worrying about work. Screw that Christopher. It all seemed so little now that he was stuck in the middle of nowhere, bleeding out, and naked.

He whistled to himself. Waiting. What could be going on back in Brawley? Had there been more news on the killer? What was new at work? Was he fired? His wife and little girls? How were they?

Again, why was he worried about work. The heat was suffocating. Of course his family was worried sick for him. They all missed him by now.

Wherever this place was, Bank felt safer than those in California who were fenced-in with a psycho serial killer. Two men were found in Brawley, or near Brawley. One of those two was found in the middle of the Glamis Dunes, his body was left in a sitting position for anyone to find. And some dune riders did. News broke out and everyone hid away from the Glamis. The criminal still running lose.

Bank mulled it over, taking a glance over to his phone.

His whistling stuttered, slowing down to a stop. Holy shit.

He was a victim. Probably the first to survive.

Bank knew the most talked about person in California: that girl. He summed it up easily now. He had his eyes closed, enjoying her body. Taking in all the curves while he pumped her insides.

But would she really let him do that? Go so far if her goal was predetermined.

Recalling more vividly he did realize that it didn't last long before something struck him from the side. He clutched his neck just then, feeling the pain that erupted that particular evening. The sand irritating it back to life. He had blacked out, but he was not dead. That girl screwed up. Big time.

On the day he sees her again, he will...

A chime tickled his ear. He looked down. It was powering on. Finally. The screen was sprinkled with damaged pixels. One bright green line lit a portion of the screen. He tracked his finger to the dialer and pressed it. One call to Kayla and all this would be over. However, the phone would not respond to his touch. He pressed it again. Nothing. He thumbed the contacts list: nothing. The touch sensor was inoperable. It was useless.

No. Please no. Come on. He tapped other icons. They all stayed put, not reacting to his touch. Come on, come on.

...

It was a joke. They knew the phone wasn't working! They knew. Everything was gone, and just then he felt embarrassed to think that whoever hauled him out here would leave such a critical device that could save his life. Someone was having a great laugh on his part. Perhaps even watching him from a distance. He looked around just then. His back was blocked by nothing but cliff rock. Around, the heat in the distance surfaced in waves, nothing but a vast land of tan rock and sand.

Where the fuck was he? Where!

Bank rested his eyes, leaning back. He tossed the phone to the side. The little movement of tilting his head back left him lightheaded. He's running low on food energy and blood loss was unknown. "This is bullshit," Bank whispered.

It was only minutes, but he thought he dosed off, unless it was his snoring that startled him back. He listened closely. Was it his snoring he heard? He heard something, right? There it was again. A whistle from a turbo. A heavy duty diesel truck. Something was hauling a heavy load and it was coming from atop. The cliff face was impossible, but a long walk around but reveal more. He could risk it, walk the burning distance until he found location to climb. His feet would burn. He'd might even passed out with no water. What choice did he have. With a sore throat he would never yell loudly enough to be heard.

Bank started walking, following the cliff face. Eventually he'd turn a point where he could climb up at a reasonable incline.

This was it. He already beat the odds of survival. He wouldn't die out here. And for that girl, she would get what's coming.

Whatever was up there meant home. If he died trying, he'd haunt that girl from deep under.