Felt hotter. Maybe they weren’t far from California now?
The air smelled of pine.
Boots shuffled her butt until she sat almost looking back at Dee-Dee. Her piggy eyes kept sweeping up and down Dee-Dee’s slender bod.
‘Had enough of nursing?’ Boots asked.
‘Not really.’
‘Why come with us, then?’
‘Heat of the moment.’
‘Must have been a hot moment.’
‘I was sick of the motel. It was my salary that kept it going.’
‘Sounds like a major responsibility,’ Duke observed.
‘It was.’
‘So you decided to skip?’
‘Yes.’
Duke glanced back at her. ‘How do you propose to pay for the ride?’
‘Pay?’
‘Gas don’t come free, y’know.’
‘You stole the car in the first place.’
‘’S mine now.’
‘There’s a kind of logic there,’ Dee-Dee said with a sigh.
‘So how you gonna pay your fare?’
‘You’ve got something in mind?’
‘Sure do.’
‘Okay, then. Let’s get it over with.’ Dee-Dee sighed again and rolled her eyes. ‘Here will do.’
‘Hey . . .’ Norman protested. ‘She can ride with us if she wants.’
‘Course she can,’ Boots said. ‘Gotta pay the driver, though. It’s only right.’
Duke pulled over to the side of the road, then ran the car onto the dirt and under some overhanging bushes.
‘Shit,’ Norman said. ‘I don’t believe this.’
‘Jealous, Norm?’
‘No, but—’
Dee-Dee hissed, ‘Deal with it. I’ve been screwed over the motel for years.’ Norman saw impatience in her eyes at his slowness when she added a weary ‘Figuratively.’
‘Oh.’
‘So taking a porking in return for my freedom from a whole heap of debt isn’t going to hurt, is it now?’
‘Oh, I . . . Ah . . .’ Norman didn’t know what to say.
They were out of sight of any passing traffic here. Duke opened the driver’s door.
‘My apologies, ma’am, for there not bein’ a bed or nothin’.’
‘It’s okay by me.’
Norman felt his face burning as he opened the back door.
‘Where ya goin’, Normy?’
‘I thought you . . . well . . . thought you might want to make use of the back seat.’
‘Very considerate of you, Norman,’ Duke said politely. ‘But we haven’t got time for that.’
‘Your call,’ Dee-Dee said. ‘You’re doing me a favor taking me to a new life, so name your pleasure.’
Dear God, Norman thought. Dee-Dee’s beautiful. It should have been me.
Duke unbuckled his belt. ‘You just pop yourself round here. No time for a regular screwin’ so I thought you could practice your microphone technique.’
Norman frowned. Microphone technique? Oh, my dear Lord. Does Duke mean what I think he means?
Norman watched Dee-Dee get out of the car. She smoothed the crisp uniform down over the swell of her breasts and her hips.
Jeez, that dress is short.
He looked at her slender bare legs. Wow . . . her delicate fingers. The swanlike neck.
Boots leaned forward. Her piggy face was a picture of excitement.
She was gonna watch?
Duke was gonna let her watch?
Norman gave a polite cough. ‘Uh, Boots. Maybe we should step out of the car and give these two some privacy.’
‘Shit, man.’ Duke shook his head. ‘No time for that. If the pair of you wanna watch, then watch. Don’t bother me.’
Boots’s eyes flashed as an erotic burn flamed through her. ‘Hey, Norman, lean forward next to me. You can see better.’
‘I don’t want to see better.’ His voice rose in a protesting squeal.
Norman closed his eyes and clamped the palms of his hands over his ears. See nothing. Hear nothing.
Norman felt sick.
Am I revolted that Duke’s demanded sex for driving Dee-Dee to California?
Or am I sick with jealousy?
He loosened his hands a little . . . just enough to hear Boots breathe, ‘Normy. You gotta watch this. You won’t believe your eyes.’
Norman couldn’t bear it. He pressed his hands back so hard against his ears that all he could hear was the sound of his own blood pumping through the arteries to his brain.
He tried not to picture what Dee-Dee might be doing to Duke. Even so . . .
Norman had to adjust himself. His shorts were binding. His heart beat faster.
Then, moments later . . .
The whole car shuddered.
‘Sweet Lord on high!’ Duke’s sudden shout made it through Norman’s hands clamped against his ears. Dear God, what’s happened there in the front seat?
It was a while before Norman could bring himself to uncover his ears, open his eyes.
Dazed, Norman saw that Dee-Dee was now standing by the car. Her skin was flushed.
‘Thank you, ma’am.’ Duke zippered up.
‘Pleasure’s all mine.’ She licked her lips. ‘I could use a drink of soda.’
‘Sure didn’t look like thirsty work,’ Boots said, grinning.
Dee-Dee ran her tongue round inside her mouth as if checking that her teeth were all still in place. Then she said, ‘All the same, a drink would be nice.’
Duke pulled his door shut, then nodded back through the open window. ‘There’s some sodas in the trunk. Grab one before we go.’
He pulled the trunk-release lever. Watched Dee-Dee in the rearview mirror as she pulled out a can of orangeade. She slammed down the trunk lid.
That was when Duke started the motor. Floored the pedal.
Left Dee-Dee staring at a cloud of dust preceded by a departing sedan.
‘Hey!’ Norman shouted. ‘Wait! What’re you leaving her behind for?’
Boots laughed a wet gurgling laugh.
Duke made one shoulder shrug. ‘Didn’t she look wacky to you?’
‘No!’
Boots was still laughing as she looked back through the rear window at the diminishing figure of Dee-Dee. ‘Aw, no fair. I thought she’d try and run after us.’
Norman glanced back to catch one last look at Dee-Dee as she stood there with a can of orange soda in her hand.
‘Cooee! Bye-bye, Dee-Dee!’ Boots waved.
Duke said, ‘Good mouth.’
Norman groaned, ‘Oh, God.’
An hour later they traded the sedan for a yellow SUV. Driving along a twisting backwoods road, they came across a solitary guy fishing by a lake. The SUV sat a few yards behind him on a swathe of dry earth.
No other traffic.
No people.
Duke pulled up. Sauntered across to the fisherman who didn’t even look up as he dozed in the hot sun.
Duke slipped the blade into the back of the man’s neck. Norman climbed out of the sedan with Boots who ran forward to throw the guy’s rods and tackle into the lake. Duke rolled the body across the ground with his foot until gravity took hold and the corpse tumbled down the bank into the lake.
Ripples spread across calm water.
A red stain started spreading, too.
Norman heard Boots say, ‘As the guy rolled into the lake he farted.’
Duke was disgusted. ‘In front of a lady, too. Some people’ve got no manners.’
Norman said, ‘You did remember to take the car keys out of the guy’s pocket?’
‘Shoot.’
‘Duke, what a dumbfuck thing to do.’
‘Best get them before he drifts too far out, Normy.’
‘No way!’
Norman watched the stabbed corpse. It farted again, bloody bubbles popping up between the guy’s legs.
‘Norman. We need the keys. Go fetch.’
‘No way! I’m fucking sick of you giving me orders
!’
Boots stuck out her bottom lip. She looked as if she was going to cry. ‘Don’t get mad at Duke. He’s been drivin’ all night. He’s wore out.’
‘Wore out? Pumped out, more like. I mean, what the hell did you leave Dee-Dee behind for, Duke? What kind of dumbfuck trick was that?’
‘I told you. She was a flake.’
‘Jesus H. Christ.’
‘Best get the keys, Normy. If the guy keeps blowin’ gas like that he’s gonna lose buoyancy.’
‘I’m not going in there, Duke. It’s your fucking idiot mistake. You get the keys!’
‘Are you disprectin’ me, bud?’
‘Disrespecting you! Of course I am, you dumb fuck.’
‘Please, Norman.’ Boots’s eyes watered. ‘Don’t fight with Duke.’
‘If he used that brain of his for once, he—’
Duke struck.
And, boy, did he know how to strike.
The blow landed under Norman’s chin. This was pain the like of which he’d never felt before. He went spinning to land on his butt.
Duke, there’s no need to fight. We can resolve our differences by discussing them.
The words that Norman planned to say drowned in the blood that filled his mouth. He climbed to his feet but stayed bent over at the waist. He marveled at the pretty patterns the spots of red were making on the dry earth.
‘Oh, poor Norman,’ Boots cooed.
Duke walked smartly forward. Then rained more punches into Norman’s face. This time Norman crashed backward like falling timber. Once more he started to climb to his feet.
Only made it as far as his knees.
Boots wiped away a tear. ‘Poor Normy. What a pickle you’ve gotten yourself into.’
Pickle!
Duke stepped up to the line again. This time he delivered a savage kick that sent Norman rolling as far as the road like a soccer ball.
Norman was past speaking.
Nevertheless he held up his hand.
Enough already.
I’ve had enough.
Norman figured the hand gesture would be clear enough to anyone. Groggy with pain he looked up.
Duke looked down.
Face impassive. Stone-like. Eyes hard.
Then Duke swung back his motorcycle boot.
Norman groaned.
This time the full-blooded kick slammed into the side of Norman’s head. That was the mother of all pain.
The sky turned black.
Then the whole world.
Dimly, far away, Norman heard his mother’s voice. ‘Norman? Didn’t I always tell you not to give lifts to strangers?’
No shit.
Was this his moment of dying?
What he’d done over the last forty-eight hours would take some explaining to God. But then He’d have seen everything already, wouldn’t he?
The sex with Boots.
The cop-slaying.
The old guy at the house with the wife in the deep-freeze.
Shit. Those dead cops would be waiting for him in heaven. Even being dead wouldn’t save him from having the crap kicked out of him. He could imagine them smiling as they pulled out their batons. They were gonna kick his sorry ass all over heaven.
Heaven?
Hell!
Satan wants me for a moonbeam.
Norman’s thoughts disintegrated as his mind sank deeper into unconsciousness.
Maybe gonna sink so deep I’m never coming back up . . .
Chapter Thirty-one
When Norman woke he was being hit all over again.
No fists.
Brilliant sunlight that felt like a steel spike was being driven into each eye.
Uh . . .
Least I’m not dead.
Yet.
But that light alone was punchy enough to hurt.
‘Lie still.’
That was Boots.
‘Lie still, will you? I’m putting a sticking plaster on your eye.’
‘Uh. I’m sore.’ Norman winced. ‘All over.’
‘You should see yourself. Your face is a mess.’
‘Thanks. I feel better for knowing that.’
‘Duke broke you up real bad.’
Norman squinted up at Boots as she leaned over him. Couldn’t see much more than her porky silhouette. The sun blazed behind her head.
‘Where is Duke?’
Norman was suddenly aware of unpleasant possibilities.
Duke’s digging a shallow grave?
Boots shrugged, then spoke in that vague (and more than a little stupid) voice of hers. ‘Oh. Around.’
‘The fisherman. We need to get away from the lake.’
‘We are away from the lake.’
‘Uh?’
‘Sit up, Normy, take a look-see.’
Sitting was hurting. Royal hurting.
‘If you see a lake I’ll somersault bare-assed for you.’
Norman realized that he was lying in the back of a pickup truck on bales of newspaper that formed a mattress. A tarp had been pulled to one side.
Something tells me I’ve been riding in the back all covered up like a baby.
Maybe Duke doesn’t want to kill me after all. Or maybe he’s just saving me to hurt for fun later.
Duke’s the kind of guy who really knows how to inflict pain.
Boots kneeled beside Norman on the bales. As she leaned forward he saw the sway of her breasts inside her top.
She saw that he was looking.
‘From the way you’re looking at my boo-boos it shows that Duke hasn’t busted your eyeballs.’
‘Sorry.’
‘I’m the one who’s gonna be sorry when men stop admiring my goodies. Well?’
‘Well, what?’
‘Are you gonna sit up or just lie there?’
‘I’m trying. It hurts like hell.’
With a sigh as if she was being inconvenienced like you wouldn’t believe, Boots helped Norman to sit.
‘Ah, my fucking back!’
‘A twinge?’
Norman grunted. ‘No, I just like screaming out names of body parts for the hell of it.’
‘Who’s woke up in a grumpy mood, then?’
‘I took a wee bit of damage, you know?’
Boots fluffed her spiky bleached hair. ‘None of it’s lasting. And before you ask, I checked your John Thomas and his two sons. They’re all fine.’
‘Thanks.’ He grimaced.
The idea of Boots fiddling with his genitals while he was unconscious . . .
Dear God.
At last Norman managed to sit upright in the back of the truck.
‘What happened to the SUV?’
‘We’ve traded in a couple of times since then. The cops are hunting hard for us, you know. We heard it on the radio.’
‘Oh, Christ.’
‘Duke phoned them to tell them they’re wasting their time. He says the only time a cop will lay a finger on him is when he’s breathed his last.’
‘Oh, Jesus Christ.’ Norman managed to focus on his surroundings. ‘Holy shit.’
‘Yeah.’ Boots looked round. ‘Looks kinda funny, don’t it?’
‘Where in hell are we?’
For the first time since he woke he forgot about the orchestra of pain playing the Agony Overture all over his body.
‘This is desert . . . fucking desert!’
He blinked. A blazing sun beat down on sand dunes. A straight desert road stretched ahead and behind.
No vehicles.
Heat haze rippled Joshua trees so that they looked like drunken men dancing. Beyond sand, desert shrubs and mesquite trees lay a ridge of strangely red mountains.
And the heat, this fucking heat . . .
‘The motherfucker’s brought us to Death Valley.’
‘Don’t be silly, Normy. This ain’t Death Valley.’
‘Damn well looks like it.’
‘We’ve already driven through Death Valley. This is Furnace Creek.’
‘We’r
e in California?’
Boots nodded, smiling. ‘After your disagreement with Duke you slept all the way.’
‘Slept? Beaten unconscious. Half fucking dead.’
‘Norman, that’s all in the past now. Besides, Duke got all upset about what happened.’
‘I wasn’t in a fit of giggles over it, either.’
‘Duke’s – you know – sensitive.’
‘Just hides it well, huh?’
Norman stood up in the back of the truck. The newspaper bales shifted under his feet. Worse was the sudden wave of nausea.
Then vertigo.
He took a deep breath.
He must have slept for days as Duke drove them south through Oregon, on into Northern California, then probably through the High Sierras – wilderness country, not too many cops – before picking up Highway 190 into the Death Valley National Park and then winding up here in the sand dunes of Furnace Creek in the Mojave Desert.
Was there ever such an unforgiving place?
Snakes, coyotes, kangaroo rats, ghost towns.
But at least no cops.
‘I sure could use a meal and a cool shower.’ Boots fanned her face with a chubby hand.
‘Hell, I could just use some shade.’ Norman shielded his eyes.
No houses. Certainly no welcoming diner.
Nothing.
Nothing but god-awful wilderness. Arid wilderness. Snake-filled wilderness.
‘So where’s Duke gone?’ Norman asked again.
‘He just took himself for a walk.’
‘A walk?’ Crazy guy. ‘Boots, you don’t stroll aimlessly through the Mojave Desert. This is the kind of place you carry a snake-bite kit.’
‘You’ll allow it looks kinda peaceful, Norman.’
‘Peaceful, huh? There’s also the Edwards Air Force base out here along with the China Lake Weapons Center where they test the biggest, baddest bombs known to humanity.’
‘Gee, I ain’t seen no soldiers.’
Norman sighed. ‘We should sit in the shade of the truck.’
‘I’m working on my tan.’
‘Your tan? In this heat you’ll fry.’
Norman climbed off the truck. His legs didn’t work too good.
Stiff from lying on newspapers for days.
He caught sight of his reflection in a side window.
‘Uh, I don’t look too pretty.’ Bruises, contusions. A cut through his right eyebrow that Boots had taped shut with a Band-Aid.
‘I’ve had worse,’ she said lightly. ‘You’ll soon heal up nice.’
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