"It took a while, but we're back on top," Donny said. "You just can't keep a good team down. That prick Lowell Palmer had himself a real first rate kiddy porn collection. Frisco had an old boyfriend who was a genius about all the Internet shit, so we let him set things up for us."
Frisco yawned. "And then he went and got all pissed off and shot the poor geek. Another smart move, Donny."
Donny Boy ignored her. "Anyway, we started selling that collection off for downloading. Jesus what a cash cow that was! Didn't take us but a month or two to realize how much we could make if we started shooting more of our own stuff."
"By kidnapping kids like Loco and then killing them once you're done?"
Donny didn't answer. His smug look said it all.
"So you're the new competition," I muttered. I was still dizzy.
Frisco frowned. She lowered the shotgun. "What did he just say?"
"Who cares?"
"Donny," she said. "Use your brain just once. What did he just say about us being the new competition? What does he know?"
"Never mind. Callahan ain't going to be saying much of anything, pretty soon. Except maybe 'please don't shoot'!" Donny Boy howled with laughter. "Or should we just cut his throat?"
Frisco sighed. "Oh, don't start with that crap again, just get it over with and let's get the hell out of here."
"Where am I?" Jerry said. He sat up. His hands were tied behind his back. Frisco shifted the shotgun to one arm, grabbed another canteen and threw some water in his face.
"Sit up," she said. "You're back among the living. It was just a bad trip, that's all."
Jerry stared at Donny Boy and Frisco and blinked a couple of times before it all registered. He gave me a sad half-smile. "I really messed up this time didn't I, Mick? I'm sorry."
"Jerry, this wasn't your fault."
"Can it," Frisco said. She kicked Jerry, tied a gag in his mouth.
"Por favor?"
Blanca's nephew Loco was tugging at my sleeve. I saw Donny glower with rage and reach for the boy. I rolled and put my body between us.
"You. Estupido!" Donny Boy said. "Shut the fuck up."
"We done with him yet?" Frisco asked.
Donny thought about it for a moment. He shrugged. "All we got on him is those regular pictures by his own self," he said. "Why not get one down and dirty video before we waste him?"
She rolled her eyes. "You mean you want to do him?"
"Just to get a movie," Donny Boy protested. "You know I ain't no faggot, Frisco. You know that. Hell, this is just business."
"We've been dragging his little ass around for months," she said. "I say kill them all at the same time. Let's just start with a clean slate."
Donny Boy scowled. "I guess maybe you're right about that." He seemed disappointed. "Oh, boy. Damn." He looked over at us and his face lit up again. He kicked me in the side and got a genuine groan. "But I want to have some fun with this dude."
Frisco sighed. "Oh, Donny."
"Let's get out in the flats a half mile or so," Donny Boy said. "So no one will hear him screaming."
"What do you figure happened to the girl who was with them?" This woman Frisco wasn't stupid. "There was no sign of her."
Donny Boy shrugged. "Who cares? It's just some twat like Skanky. She can't hurt us. Get up there and drive."
Frisco paused to light a joint. She took a long hit, stubbed it out, found her keys and left the van through the sliding side-panel door. I struggled to sit up. Donny Boy produced a snub-nosed .38 special. He kicked me half-heartedly. I went down again. I began to babble under my breath; nonsense designed to add to an appearance of helplessness. Inside, my mind was in high gear. Time is running out, better do something soon.
The van started with a sputtering roar. The engine sounded powerful and finely tuned, belying the vehicle's battered and dusty interior. We lurched forward as Frisco changed gears. I could picture us easing out into the throng, moving only a few feet at a time. The horn blew and then blew again as Frisco ordered people out of the way. Excited party animals were screaming and shouting all around us. Cries for help would be useless in such an environment.
"What? Huh?" I said, as if still heavily drugged. "You say something, Jerry?"
"Oh boy," Donny said. "Enjoy that high, Callahan. It won't be lasting much longer."
I peeked at the child. Loco was curled up in a ball in the corner of the van, knees up against his chest. His eyes were surprisingly alert. I could tell he was evaluating how to make a run for it. I winked. The boy's pupils dilated slightly, but he was a tough kid, his expression didn't change. He wriggled his fingers as if to say he'd understood the sign.
I sat up, acted dizzy and then pretended to pass out. I allowed my head to strike the metal floor with an audible clang. Donny Boy laughed. I lay still. From where I was sprawled, I could see that Jerry was moving too.
The crowd noises around us grew fainter. Time ran out. The gears grunted, groaned, and hoisted us over a low dune. We had passed the outer rim of the camp and begun heading out into the empty flats. The party behind us would go on until dawn—and by then we would have all been tortured to death.
The van began to limp and bounce to the front and the right. A flat tire? Donny Boy glowered and stood up. He braced himself against the wall of the van and bellowed at Frisco. "The fuck is going on?"
"Don't know," Frisco said. Her voice was faint over the thumping and banging.
"Damn!"
Another tire blew, this time the rear right. The vehicle started to growl and stumble around in a useless circle. I fought down a smile. Darlene must have shot out both tires on the right side. Donny Boy hissed like a snake, and whispered to himself.
The hissing sound. It had been Donny Boy, wearing a black Halloween mask, who had attacked me near the radio station. He had the Burning Man tattoo on his forearm.
The van ground to a halt. Donny Boy screamed: "Watch them while I get that bitch."
The huge man slid the door open. A bullet missed him by inches, a ricochet that went screaming off towards camp. Donny Boy jumped out and rolled across the sand. He fired twice into the darkness, forcing Darlene to change positions. I started to get up and found myself eyeballing the twin barrels of the pump shotgun.
"Get down," Frisco said. I obeyed, dropped down on my knees. She got into the van and slid the door closed behind her. I stared up into her stoned, brown eyes and watched her dazed thinking process. I saw her come to a decision as clearly as if she had said it aloud: What am I waiting for? Donny is gone! Why not just shoot them all now?
I was moving before I was fully conscious of the decision. I gathered my strength and came up under the gun, sweeping it high with one shoulder, only vaguely aware of the explosion that ripped a hole in the ceiling of the van. I temporarily lost hearing in my right ear.
I brought my head up under her chin and heard a satisfying crack. Frisco bit down on her tongue and sprayed a light trail of blood. She stepped backwards and tried to bring the gun around. I hit her with an uppercut, turning fast and putting my whole body into the blow. Frisco dropped the shotgun and flew back into the far wall with a clang. Her head snapped against the metal, her neck bent sideways and her eyes rolled back in her head. She dropped suddenly, loose limbed and dead.
"Let's get out of here."
Jerry was standing, trying to loosen his bonds. Loco ran to Frisco and efficiently searched her pockets. He returned with a knife and cut Jerry free. He looked at me with hope in his eyes.
"We will take you back to your aunt," I said, knowing the boy did not understand English. "Blanca. Blanca."
Loco grinned from ear to ear.
"Down," I motioned rapidly. "Stay down."
I used the shotgun to smash out the interior light, slid the door open as quietly as possible and dropped to my knees in the hard-packed sand. The little boy followed, then Jerry. The noise from the festival was constant, yet after a few seconds I heard a gunshot nearby and what was unmistakably Donny
Boy's voice: Oh, boy!
"I don't know how many shells are in this thing," I said, quietly. "So it seems to me discretion is the better part of valor."
"I'm down with that," Jerry said. "What do you want me to do?"
"Darlene is probably going to try to lead him back towards the camp," I said. "She'll be trying to buy us some time. Once Donny figures that out, he'll turn back this way to be sure we're dead. You go north and then back around to camp. I'll go south, after Darlene. Let's move."
Jerry grabbed the boy by the hand. Loco snatched his arm away and then relaxed. He nodded. Jerry started to crawl north and the kid followed him. I listened and heard another shot. I took off, running fast and low, trying to find Darlene in the darkness. I still felt a bit dizzy, but now the adrenaline was pumping and clearing my system of the drugs.
Someone is coming, full tilt boogie. I located a tiny crevice in the desert floor, rolled and then fell face down in the dirt. Donny Boy came charging through the darkness. Now that my eyes had adjusted a bit, I could make out the bright white of snarling, perfect teeth. Donny was chuffing along like a sprinter; elbows crisp and knees pumping high. He had a look of single-minded determination. He ran right past me and over towards the van. When he saw the door standing open, he increased his speed. He jumped into the van, boots crashing down harshly, and found Frisco dead. After a second of silence, there came a long keening wail.
"You motherfucker!" Donny Boy screamed. "I'm going to pick your flesh off with pliers, Callahan. I'm gonna make you beg."
I lay still, came to a decision, slipped the cell phone out of my packet and spoke into it, articulating as clearly as possible under the circumstances. Then I broke the connection. I placed Darlene in my mind. I gauged the distance to camp, the visibility by starlight, and my speed against Donny Boy's. Suddenly I jumped to my feet.
"Come and get some, Donny. I'm right here!"
The huge man screamed and jumped down out of the van. He started running and he was fast. I took off, broken-field style, the shotgun held with the barrel down towards the ground. I willed myself to hold back a little, to let Donny Boy gain. I wanted to lead the man away from Jerry and Loco, further out into the desert.
I tripped, fell and rolled. Now there would be no time for games. I got to my feet again, felt my ankle twinge and ran harder. This time I sprinted back towards the van. A bullet whistled by my ear, close enough to sound like an angry insect. I ran under the night sky, legs weakening. The drugs had sapped my energy.
I felt a stitch in my side and changed directions again, then reversed field and started back towards camp. I wanted Darlene to have a decent shot. The noises in camp included gunfire. No one had heard us yet. I figured maybe she could take Donny out of it and we could simply melt away into the mob. I felt sick, now. I needed water.
"I'll kill you!" Donny screamed. He wasn't firing, probably afraid of wasting shells. We ran on. I was heading for the lights, people, and safety.
Suddenly I saw Darlene standing up near the edge of the parking area. She was waving her hands and screaming. It hit me that she was trying to signal that she was out of ammunition. I considered whirling and firing at Donny, but reminded myself that I might have only one shell left, or even be holding an empty weapon, so this was no time to risk a hasty shot against a moving target with nothing but starlight to see by.
I increased my speed. Darlene looked to her right and waved again. She had Jerry and the young boy approaching. Now I was in pain. I had a queasy, slow motion feeling, now; like a man in a marathon who suspects he may not have the strength to finish. I risked a look over my shoulder and saw that Donny Boy was stumbling, weakening and running out of breath too. The big man fell to his knees, then got up and came on again.
Jerry and Loco raced along the rim of the parking area and caught up with Darlene. The party went on behind them; participants dancing like naked savages by firelight. Jerry and the boy bent over and tried to catch their breath.
"Come on!" Darlene screamed. I found the last of my reserves and increased speed one final time. I heard another bullet screech by my ear and somehow above the din of the party heard it smack into the trunk of a parked car not three feet from Darlene. I whirled, knelt down in the sand and pumped the shotgun. Donny saw me and tried to come to a stop, arms pinwheeling comically. He threw his hands up, palms out.
"Mercy," he cried.
I fired. The shotgun slammed painfully into my shoulder and something cracked in my neck. The explosion was deafening. Donny Boy spun around soundlessly and dropped out of sight. I pumped the shotgun, but my touch told me no fresh shell entered the chamber. I threw the empty weapon down and stumbled back to the firelight.
I ran into Darlene's arms. I was soaking wet from rainwater and sweat and gasping painfully for breath. "Is he dead?"
Darlene kissed me. "I don't know, but I've got two speed loaders in the tent, so let's move."
The four of us limped into the human chaos, and I realized that the climax of the evening was nearly upon us. The gigantic stick figure was now lit with neon tubing. It stood towering over the mob and people were gathering into tight little groups, chattering in anticipation of the burning. Darlene led the way, tapping people on the shoulder, elbowing them aside; punching one drunk in the stomach to clear a pathway. I stumbled behind her, then Jerry and finally Loco.
As we approached the tiny city, a fat man wearing large plastic breasts with a huge fake penis blocked our way. The noise from the celebration was deafening. When Darlene tried to move the man aside, he giggled and hugged her. I'd regained some wind, so I worked my way closer. Suddenly the man frowned, a puzzled expression, as a piece of his skull disappeared. He fell to his knees and dropped face down on the foam rubber breasts, his shattered head pumping bright blood in a thin, precise stream. Someone screamed.
I turned and saw Donny Boy fighting through the crowd. He was favoring one arm, which was smeared with crimson, and still holding the smoking pistol in the other. His eyes were wild with rage and pain. He was perhaps twenty yards away and closing. I groped for my cell phone but it was broken. Just then, Donny Boy tried to fire again and realized his own weapon was empty. He threw the gun down and charged.
"Go! Move it!" I called.
Jerry and Loco simultaneously grabbed Darlene's arms and forced her to go faster. She complained and started to fight her way free, but then decided to try for the spare ammunition. The three of them vanished into the crowd.
I turned to face Donny Boy. I grabbed a large piece of lit firewood and waved it in front of me. Donny Boy smiled and began to circle. Meanwhile, three people glanced at us with clear disapproval. Assuming the dead man to be passed out, they stepped over the corpse and moved on. The climax of the festival was obviously of more interest than a common street brawl.
No one was facing backwards, so no one noticed the dark pool of blood flowing out from the prone body.
"Oh, boy, I been waiting for this," Donny said. He kicked some sand up and charged. I blinked the dirt from my eyes. Donny Boy crashed into me and knocked both of us into the fire. I screamed with pain. We rolled back out onto the parched ground, clubbing one another with closed fists, going for the nose or the chin.
I slipped one hand free just as I suffered a terrible shot to the jaw. I shook it off and grabbed Donny Boy by the ear; squeezed and twisted. Donny Boy bleated like a goat and elbowed me in the teeth. I tasted blood. I let go and clawed at the bigger man's eyes. I was losing the fight.
Weak, I'm too damned weak from the drugs.
Donny Boy rolled on top and hit me on the jaw. Fireworks went off in the heavens above, neon colors blazing through the evening sky. The crowd went "ooh" and "ah" and for a very blurry second I thought of Memorial Day back in Dry Wells and then it occurred to me that this time I was really about to die. I saw my stepfather Danny Bell standing in the shadows, watching us. Danny seemed very disappointed in me.
"So long!" Donny Boy said. He had a rock in his fist. He rai
sed it up high, started to bring it down. I felt an empty sense of hopelessness that my life had come down to this. Danny Bell said: Don't you fucking quit on me boy, don't you do it! I grabbed the thick wrist with both hands and held it in place. That one action took everything I had. Then I bucked like a horse and yanked to my left. Donny sat back in an effort to keep his balance, and I threw him off. I drove a fist into the big man's throat. Donny Boy gagged, but made it back up to his knees and bent over me. I hit him again, and it hurt, but he held on. Meanwhile, I was now completely exhausted.
"Ouch."
Donny Boy looked startled. He clutched at the back of his head and fell heavily forward, right onto me. I pawed my way free and looked down at Donny, who was just stunned. He sat up, fingering his scalp; his hand came away red and wet. Someone had fired at him. I scrambled backward in the sand, eyes searching the crowd for Darlene.
Agent Fields stood at the edge of the shadows, holding a 9mm automatic in one hand and his ID in the other. His badge glinted in the firelight. He was smiling sweetly, warmly.
"FBI," he said.
Fields put the badge away. He slid closer to Donny Boy like a vampire; almost magically, as if his feet weren't even moving or touching the ground. I flinched and then realized that I was still hallucinating.
"Thank God," I said, or tried to say. My mouth wasn't working very well. Fields pulled Donny Boy's bloody hair back and stared deep into his eyes. He laughed and looked at me.
"This piece of shit is the new guy in town? This is him?"
I nodded. "That's him."
"By himself?"
"His partner was a girl. She's dead. There was some computer geek in on it too, but they took him out yesterday. He probably got greedy."
Fields shook his head, amused. "Jesus, he isn't much to look at, is he?"
Donny Boy tried to stand up. He froze when Fields cocked the gun. "Say your prayers, dickhead," Fields said softly.
Donny Boy had seen the badge. He smiled at Fields. "Aren't you going to read me my rights?"
Eye of the Burning Man: A Mick Callahan Novel (The Mick Callahan Series) Page 22