One Year Later.
The Road to no-where and everywhere stretched out into the shimmering distance. I halted my Harley Nightster at the top of a rise and gazed at the Mountains in the distance. The heat of an eternal Sun beat down unabashed onto the tarnished blacktop. There was silence all around except for the whisper of wind across the prehistoric looking desert landscape.
I took a bottle of water from the pannier on the side of my bike and glugged some down. A year had passed since that night in Hastings but it seemed like forever. We had taken the sixty million pounds from the safe then I had taken Jamie Lee to a friendly Doctor. He sorted out her foot and through other contacts obtained false Passports. From then on it had been one whirlwind ride of places and faces, never knowing where we were going to end up night after night. We never thought of the future just experiencing the present and everything it held. From England we travelled to Spain then up into France, never staying in one place for long.
The Police had discovered the bodies at my Dad’s pub and the massacre at the Mansion houses. Some brain box of a plod derived a conclusion from the evidence and information received and came up with our names. Left with no choice Jamie and I fled the country. Even though half of the most serious criminals in London had been wiped out and their firms in splinters, do you think we got any thanks? Nah, an international manhunt was launched for us. Some people can be so ungrateful. For the first couple of months we celebrated at the best hotels, taking in the sights and partying until dawn, not the behavior of people on the run I know. We were careful, not staying in one place too long, change of hairstyles and I grew a rather fetching goatee.
Eventually we both got bored with the lifestyle, so after a narrow escape in Paris where the long arm of British Justice nearly caught up with us, when Gendarmes stormed our Hotel room. Fortunately, we had popped down to the bar so saw plod storm upstairs. We both decided to lose ourselves in the only Country in the world to do it. The good old U.S. of A.
Through contacts, we had made along the way, we greased palms and obtained new identities and papers transforming us into American citizens.
My name is now Jimmy Doyle and Jamie is now Jamie Lee O’Hara, apparently, she is a big fan of Gone With the Wind. I still have nightmares, although not as bad. Telling everything to Jamie helped a lot. Slowly, we are moving on, the wounds are healing.
Before we left, I visited Paulie’s grave and left a single white Rose, sentimental I know but it was my way of saying sorry and goodbye.
There are no doubts in my mind that the law will catch up with us someday but for now, we are free and rich.
Jamie had gone off, two weeks ago, with some friends she had made and we were all meeting up in Las Vegas on the weekend. That gave me some time to go sight-seeing, I had just been to Roswell and the land around what they call Area 51, always wanted to check out that place. Was a bit wild, the Camo dudes guarding the joint chased me off when I strayed too far into their territory.
Anyway enough of the reminiscing makes my head ache. I gunned the Harley and headed towards the heat haze of the mountains. The irony was not lost on me that I was headed to a city created by gangsters for gangsters; you would have thought I would have had a gut full of anything to do with that lifestyle but hey there is nothing like losing a bit of money to blow away those blues.
The End.
About the Author
Andrew Scorah is an Indie author who lives in Swansea in the U.K, with his fiancée Lisa Elphick and their two children Tammie and Steffan. He has one other book published. Eastern Fury and Other Tales, He also has a story included in the anthology, ACTION: Pulse Pounding Tales Vol 1, which can be found on Amazon in both paperback and E format. You can find his internet presence on Facebook and his blog is Andy Scorah’s Writing World- https://andyscorah.blogspot.co.uk/2012_06_01_archive.html
Homecoming Blues Page 7