by Dave Conifer
She nodded. “How about you?” she mumbled before coughing up bits of cloth and thread.
“Yeah, I’m fine. You got the worst of it.”
“No. I think he did.”
“I’m going to tape him up before I finish cutting you loose. It won’t take long.”
She nodded as he picked up the roll of duct tape and the knife and crawled over to Bremer’s bleeding body. He was groggy but partially conscious. “Don’t try anything,” he warned Bremer. “After I tape you I’ll see what I can do for you.” Instead of cutting strips of tape the way Bremer had he simply wrapped a thick layer around his ankles, and did the same with his wrists. “Sit up, Bremer. You’ll bleed less if your head’s not on the floor.” When Bremer didn’t move Jonas pulled him up by the shirt to a sitting position and propped him in the corner where he’d fallen. “How could you do that to a woman?” he demanded, thinking of the brass knuckles. Bremer’s eyes opened halfway. When fresh blood trickled down his nose and into his tear ducts he closed them again without trying to answer.
“Untie me, Joe,” Reno said, her voice still faint. He let go of Bremer’s shirt. Bremer’s head rubbed the wall as he slumped, leaving a thick red smear that began to drip.
He cut the tape away from Reno’s body, starting at the wrists. “How do you feel?” he asked. “Do you think you can walk? I heard him on the radio. We may not have much time.”
“I don’t know, but I’ll have to try. I feel all cloudy. What happened? The last thing I remember is waiting in the woods.”
“I’m pretty sure you walked here by yourself. I was back there in the bathroom when you came in,” he explained as he finished freeing her hands. “He must have clocked you with those brass knuckles. I’ve never been hit like that. You can really take a punch, partner. I hunkered down like a weasel until I could surprise him with the coffee pot.” He looked at Bremer again. “I think he’s going to die. What else could I do?”
“Fuck him,” Reno answered. “You did the right thing. He’d have done it to us if he had the chance. Is this really happening?”
“I’m afraid so,” Jonas answered as he sliced the tape that bound her ankles. “We better get out of here. He’s not going anywhere.” He pulled slivers of bloody glass off his forearm and wiped his hands on his pants. “You two are a bloody mess but I hardly have a scratch on me.”
“He’s probably got a car,” Reno mumbled.
“Good thinking.” Jonas walked over to Bremer and searched his pockets. Reno braced herself against the bed but was unable to pull herself to her feet. Jonas came back to her and shoved his hands into her armpits to hoist her up, but she fell backward onto the bed next to the weapons when he let go. He jammed the guns into his pockets before pulling her back up. “I won’t let go this time,” he promised. They staggered around the bed towards the door.
“Are those guns loaded? Be careful.” She gasped when she saw her reflection in the mirror. “I look like some kind of zombie,” she said. “Is that my blood?”
“It sure is. We can clean you up later. I found the keys, so you only have to make it to the parking lot. I grabbed his walkie-talkie, too. Maybe we’ll pick up some information.”
“Since we’re stealing his car and his guns, we may as well take his money if he has any. We’re just about broke.”
“Good idea.” Jonas walked over to Bremer. He was still breathing but didn’t look like he was conscious. Jonas patted him down until he found a wallet in a pocket inside his jacket. “Holy shit. He’s got a stack of bills that could choke a horse, or a dinosaur, or whatever.” He jammed the money into his pocket and shoved the wallet under the mattress. “I’m glad you thought of that.”
“I hope we can find his car,” Reno said as she hobbled out the door with an arm around his neck.
“Just look for a sedan, in basic black,” Jonas said. “If it’s here we shouldn’t have any trouble picking it out.”
-- Chapter 33 --
Finding the car wasn’t a problem in the near-empty lot. Jonas inserted the key in the door of a black Impala parked near the office and unlocked it. After helping Reno into the passenger seat he started the car and they drove off. He didn’t use the headlights until they were away from the motel, just in case Bremer’s friends arrived, but they encountered no oncoming traffic until they were on University Avenue.
“How do you feel?” Jonas asked. “I’m worried about you. That cut’s still bleeding.”
“Groggy.”
“The first thing we need to do is find a drugstore. We’ve got to get you cleaned up. You might even need the emergency room. I wouldn’t be surprised if you had a concussion.”
“I don’t like emergency rooms,” she said. “The drugstore is better. Maybe I can get a new shirt there. And a barrel of Motrin.”
They passed through an intersection as they headed away from the campus. Within five minutes they came across a huge drugstore. Jonas drove to a dark corner of the parking lot, locked Reno into the car and went inside alone. He picked up a shopping basket and walked the aisles of the store, looking for anything they might need. A few minutes later he walked out with a shopping bag full of medical supplies as well as a gold and blue West Virginia Basketball tee shirt.
“I got a few bottles of water so we can wash the blood off. But I need a rag or something. I’ll use my shirt,” he said as he started to take it off. “I should have gotten a shirt for myself, too. This one’s had it. You should have seen the look I got from the cashier.”
“Don’t waste your shirt,” she said. “Mine’s toast, anyway.” She started undoing the buttons that ran down the front as Jonas turned away in embarrassment. “Stop being so shy,” she said, smiling weakly as she pulled it off and held it out. “After all we’ve been through I think it’s okay if you see me in a bra.”
He poured water on the shirt after wadding it up, and wiped at the blood that seemed to cover Reno from the shoulders upward. Trying to be as tender as he could, he moved towards to the wound. She winced through gritted teeth with each dab. “Aah!” she finally yelled while pulling away. She flipped down the sun visor and turned her head as she examined the injury by the light of the tiny bulb next to the vanity mirror. “That’s sick,” she mumbled, falling back into the seat.
Jonas put a hand on her shoulder. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, just give me a second. That’s the first time I saw it up close.” She took a few deep breaths and sat back up. “I’m all right. Just get it over with.” When the cleanup was done he turned the shirt inside out, trying to expose a fresh section. After dousing it with a liberal dose of hydrogen peroxide he pressed it gently at the torn, bloody flesh around her temple. “This is bad. There’s still a bunch of gunk coming out. I guess those brass knuckles go deep enough to do a lot of damage. Does it hurt bad?”
“A lot. And my head’s really starting to pound.”
He reached into the bag and pulled out the Motrin. After ripping the cap off the bottle he poured three pills into her open palm. She pushed them into her mouth one by one and took a sip from the water bottle.
“I don’t know, Abby. I’m doing the best I can but this is pretty bad. It just won’t stop bleeding, and it’s swelling up around the edges. We might need to find you a real doctor.” When he felt like there was nothing more he could do, he rummaged through the bag until he found a box of gauze pads, three of which he taped over the gash.
“I’ve had enough tape on my body tonight to last me for the rest of my life. But thanks for patching me up. I feel better.”
“I bought an ice pack,” he said as he reached into the bag again. “This might help with the swelling, at least. Maybe you should put your shirt on first.”
“You’re so uptight. Loosen up a little, will you?”
He dug the shirt out of the bag and helped her slip it over her head. After pulling it down to her waist she leaned back against the door and applied the ice pack. “It could be worse. At least we have a car.”
“That might not be such a good thing,” he answered. “They might already be looking for it.”
“Hey, remember this morning when I said we wouldn’t live through the day? Well, here we are. We made it.”
“Barely. But that’s more than we can say about that guy back in the room,” Jonas said. “Bremer. What if he bleeds to death? I was thinking about using the radio to call his friends to tell them he’s in bad shape.”
“And let them know where we are? We have to save ourselves first. They’d be glad to come kill us if they knew where we were. They’ve already tried.” She closed her eyes and sat back, breathing heavily.
“You don’t think they could figure out where we are through this thing, do you?” he asked after picking up the walkie-talkie and turning it over as he examined it. “I don’t think it works that way.” He switched it on and dropped it onto the seat beside him. “We can listen, at least. Maybe we’ll learn something. But there’s nothing here for us anymore. We have to go. I say we do it now when it’s still dark.”
They sat in the car for a few more minutes without talking. Occasionally the radio squawked but neither could understand the transmission. Jonas picked it up again and looked for a way to clarify the sound. After he’d given up and put it on the dashboard he sensed that Reno had gone to sleep. “Lucky you,” he said quietly. He carefully pulled the seatbelt across her body and clicked it into place before starting the car. He turned left out of the drugstore, determined to put some distance between them and Morgantown.
They’d probably found Bremer by now . He resisted the urge to floor the accelerator while driving for another five miles. When he remembered the pistols that he’d shoved into his pockets he laughed softly. “I can’t believe I walked around the drug store with loaded guns,” he said out loud just in case she was awake. She didn’t make a sound as he carefully pulled them out and slid them under his seat. “You never know when we might need these.”
Without opening her eyes Reno moved awkwardly across the bench seat and up against him. He lifted his arm so she could push up against his body. While his arm was dropping back around her shoulder he felt a slick coating of fresh blood on her neck. The bleeding wasn’t stopping. If anything it was heavier. Staying in the shadows might not be an option for much longer, he worried as he drove.
~~~
He had slipped into an exhausted daze when he heard a voice barking from the radio. This time he thought he was able to make out the words. “What did you do about Bremer?” one man seemed to be asking over and over without receiving a response. After the fourth time Jonas snatched up the radio and pushed the transmit button. “Hello? I have information about Bremer.” He impulsively pulled off the road behind a clump of bushes beneath a billboard.
When nobody answered immediately he put it back on the dashboard. The bloody remains of his shirt still rested next to it. When he tried to push the shirt away he found that had adhered to the vinyl, probably held in place by dried blood. He peeled it up and tossed it over his shoulder into the back seat. That’s the best part of driving somebody else’s car. The walkie-talkie crackled to life just as he was about to check Reno for fresh blood. “What do you know about Bremer?” the voice said. It was much clearer than before. Jonas wondered if that was because they were closer. The thought gave him chills.
“I know everything about Bremer,” he said after picking the radio back up. “He’s hurt pretty bad.”
There was silence again. Jonas hoped the voices would wake Reno, but so far she hadn’t responded. He could still feel her breathing slowly.
“Who is this?” the voice asked.
“This is Joe Jonas.”
“The reporter? Where are you?”
“That’s your problem. But I’ll tell you where Bremer is. He’s back in the motel room. He got beat up pretty bad. You better get him some help before he bleeds to death.”
There was more silence. They had almost certainly found Bremer and already knew he’d been attacked. He was probably dead. “Who beat him up?”
“I did,” Jonas said, seeing no reason to lie. “Why are you chasing us?”
“You know why. How did you get Bremer’s radio?”
“I took it, that’s how. I took his weapons too.”
There was no answer. Jonas worried that they wouldn’t talk to him anymore and although he knew it was absurd, he couldn’t live with that. He craved contact with them, whoever they were. “We didn’t do anything wrong,” he said into the radio. “It’s been twenty years. Who are you protecting? What difference does it make anymore?”
“That’s none of your business,” the voice answered immediately. “Where are you?”
“What if we promised never to breathe a word of what we found out? Would you let us alone?”
“We all have our jobs to do.”
“If we never ran the story nobody would ever know,” Jonas said, his voice cracking.
“No deals. I don’t have the authority, anyway.”
“What’s your name? You already know mine.”
“Braden,” the voice said after a pause. “Ted Braden.”
“What do you want from us?”
“Your silence. We have to have your silence. It’s out of my hands. See you in a few minutes. Over and out.”
See you in a few minutes? He threw the radio onto the dashboard and shook Reno gently. “Abby! Wake up! Did you hear any of that?” He let go of her only to watch her fall away onto the seat like a rag doll. When he reached over he could feel warm blood that soaked her shirt. “Abby!” he said. “Wake up!”
He turned on the dome light, hoping it might rouse her. She was a gruesome sight. The bandages were sopping and red. Blood had run down her neck and turned the top third of her gold shirt to a disturbing reddish brown shade. She looks a lot like Bremer. “Abby!” he yelled again, pulling her back up and shaking her gently. He could feel her breathing so he knew she was still alive. Having no idea what to do he lifted one of her eyelids and saw nothing but the white of her eye.
“Holy shit! Abby, can you hear me?” He leaned her back down onto the seat with her bloody face on his lap and then started the car. “Abby, if you can hear me, don’t worry. I’m getting you to the hospital before it’s too late!” Dirt and gravel spewed as the car peeled out of the bushes and onto the road back towards Morgantown.
-- Chapter 34 --
There was still too much traffic for Jonas to drive as fast as he wanted to. “Abby! Wake up!” he called over and over as he drove. He poked and shook her with his free hand but was unable to get any response. After he reached the hospital he followed the signs for the emergency room, parked the car along the curb and tried one last time to wake Reno up. She opened her eyes but only for a moment. There was no way she was going inside under her own power.
He ran inside to get help but stopped short when he spotted a wheelchair against the wall. Without bothering to ask permission he grabbed the chair and rolled it outside. After opening the passenger door he pushed the chair as close as he could to Reno.
She was sprawled away from the door but had regained consciousness. This time her eyes stayed open as she watched Jonas reach toward her. “We’re at the hospital,” he said. “They’ll get you fixed up. How do you feel?”
“I’m so weak,” she whispered. “I’m all dizzy.”
“I’ve got to move you into the chair.”
“Okay. I can do it.” She leaned forward but that was as far as she got before listing sideways. He reached in and pulled her by the shoulders far enough that she was able to swing her body onto the chair.
“That’s all you have to do,” Jonas promised as he rolled her inside. “I’ll take care of the rest.” He wheeled her inside and towards a woman in a round reception desk. Now that he was out of the dark he was reminded of his shredded clothing that was freshly smeared with Reno’s blood.
Reno looked much worse than he did, of course, and the receptionist noticed right away. Matted h
air framed Reno’s ashen face, which was slathered with crusted blood. The bandages on her temple dangled uselessly by a strand of tape, having fallen out of place due to the weight of the blood that saturated them. A dark, wet trail ran down her face and neck where it soaked her shirt, which had been new a little more than an hour earlier.
“Oh my,” the receptionist said when they were close. “We’ll take her back right away,” she said as she stood. She punched a few buttons on the phone before walking around to the wheel chair. “Are you okay, honey?” she asked as she smiled reassuringly at Reno. When Reno didn’t answer she moved between Jonas and the chair and grabbed the handles. Without a word she expertly navigated across the waiting room and through a set of automatic doors. Unsure what to do, he followed, his eyes burning in the fluorescent lighting. Reno was wheeled around a corner and down another hallway. He didn’t catch up until the receptionist had parked the chair in a small examination room. “Somebody will be right in,” she said. “So what happened?”
“Somebody hit her. Hard,” he answered. Until then he hadn’t thought about the difficulty of explaining the injury.
“Somebody? Was it anybody in particular?” Before he could answer she had backed out to the doorway where she collided with a nurse. She mumbled something to the nurse before she left.
“I’m Beth Staley,” the nurse said. “We’ll need to get a lot of information from you two, but first we need to have a look at her. Anything hurt besides her head? Is that her own blood on her shirt?”