That damn sinkhole is why I won’t finish. If not for that I would have had enough time and energy to complete the race.
A memory came to Romeo of something Spenser was always saying.
“You can have two things in this world,” Spenser said. “Reasons or results, and reasons don’t count.”
Romeo forced himself to stand while moaning from the pain in his back. The thought of walking a hundred feet seemed a Herculean effort, much less to run eight more miles. And the eight was only a guess; it could just as easily be as much as ten miles.
Is there even enough time left?
I KNEW IT.
I KNEW IT.
I KNEW IT.
I KNEW IT.
Romeo looked down at the note in his hand, then balled it up and threw it away.
“You don’t know me!”
He took off slow, then gained speed, determined not to stop for anything short of death.
15
A Promise Of Violence To Come
DEATH VALLEY, CALIFORNIA, AUGUST 2012
The safari twins were giddy with glee over having captured Andrea, whom they marched along in front of them at gunpoint.
They were taking her back to where they had separated with Phelps, to meet up with him and the jeep.
Andrea slunk along in a defeated posture. She had been so close to making it out to the road and would have if she hadn’t been trusting. Now, they would hand her over to the man calling himself Smith.
Andrea turned her head and asked the safari twins a question.
“Is my father where you’re taking me?”
“He’s dead,” said the shorter of the two men. Seeing the devastation his words had caused Andrea, he added, “Sorry.”
Andrea stopped walking, then sank to the ground as a flood of tears blurred her vision. Along with the grief came hatred.
“Who killed my father?”
“His name is Phelps. We’re taking you to meet him,” said the taller man. After speaking to Andrea, he pointed ahead where a jeep was coming to a stop several hundred feet away. “Why is Phelps parking out there?”
“He’s a jerk,” said the shorter man. “He wants to make us walk to him.”
“I know how to get under his skin. I’ll ask him about Tanner.”
“Who’s Tanner?” Andrea asked, while wiping at her eyes.
“He was a friend of your father,” the short man said. “Phelps was supposed to kill him too, but Tanner got away from him.”
The tall man took out his radio and keyed it to Phelps’ handset.
“Hey, Phelps. Did you kill Tanner yet?”
The tall man’s answer was delivered courtesy of the slug from a .308 Winchester cartridge. The round entered the tall man’s head at the tip of his nose and sent his brains blowing out the back of his head. The gore covered the face of the shorter man and blinded him. As he was raising his hands to clear his vision, a second round took a chunk out of his left arm.
The short man let out a scream of agony, tripped over his partner’s body, and fell backwards to land on his ass.
Tanner arrived on the scene while driving the jeep and saw that Andrea was running away. He called to her.
“My name is Tanner! I won’t hurt you!”
Andrea stopped running, but she came no closer.
“You’re Tanner? You knew my father?”
“Yes, and I’m sorry, but he’s dead.”
Fresh tears sprang from Andrea’s eyes as her father’s death was confirmed. Looking at the rifle Tanner held, she realized he could have killed her easily. She walked back. Seeing the short man whining over his wounded arm enraged her and Andrea kicked him in the face.
“You can’t suffer enough, you piece of shit.”
Tanner had taken a canteen off the belt of the tall man and found it to be half full. After draining it and feeling the water revive him, he scanned his surroundings. As he did so, he spoke to the surviving safari twin, who had a bloody lip to go with the wound in his arm.
“Where can I find Mr. Smith?”
“I don’t know. Please… don’t kill me.”
Tanner picked up the radio the tall man had dropped. He held it out to the short man.
“Use the radio to call Smith. I want to talk to him.”
The short man fumbled the device, as he only had one working arm. He was losing a great deal of blood, while color was draining from his face. Once he made contact, he handed Tanner the radio.
“It’s Jones. He takes Smith’s calls.”
“This is Tanner, put Smith on.”
“What? Who are you?”
“Tanner, let me talk to Smith.”
There was silence for several moments, followed by the sound of a cultured voice with an English accent. Despite the accent, the arrogant tone and cadence of Smith’s voice reminded Tanner of a man he’d recently met in New Jersey named Frank Richards, who headed an organization known as The Conglomerate.
“If you’re talking to me, Tanner, I take it that Mr. Phelps is deceased.”
“He is, and you’ll be joining him.”
“I think not. You have no idea who I am and no way of finding out.”
“True, but I have a long memory, and I won’t stop looking for you.”
Andrea moved toward Tanner and reached for the radio. Tanner let her take it, and Andrea screamed into it.
“You killed my father! I hate you.”
Smith’s laughter came over the speaker and Andrea sobbed. Tanner took the radio again.
“We’ll meet someday, Smith. When we do, you’ll regret today.”
“Goodbye, Tanner. Maybe you’ll think twice before taking your next contract. Sometimes the target fights back.”
The transmission ended, and Tanner tossed the unit away.
Andrea pointed at the short man in the safari suit.
“What about him?”
Tanner took out his gun and shot the man twice in the chest. The short man had been opening his mouth to protest, but all that came out was a death rattle, as he lay on his back.
Andrea was surprised by the sudden violence, but when she looked up from the body, she leaned into Tanner and hugged him about the waist.
“Thank you.”
They got in the jeep and Andrea made a request.
“Take me to my father.”
“Are you sure about that? He was shot in the head.”
“I want to see what that bastard Smith did to him.”
Tanner put the jeep in gear and headed back to where the nightmare began.
16
Finish Line
BAJA CALIFORNIA, MEXICO, JULY 1998
With fifteen minutes to go, Spenser left the air-conditioned comfort of his truck and stepped outside into a blast-furnace of a day. He was where the two race routes came together. Cody’s route was on his right, while Romeo’s route was to the left. The finish line was a white streak that Spenser had spray-painted across the sand. Written above the line in red letters were two words, TANNER SEVEN.
Both routes curved out of sight about two hundred yards away and the intense temperature was sending up shimmering waves of heat from the hot sand.
With less than twelve minutes to go, movement on the right caught Spenser’s eye. It was Cody, and he was moving as fast as Spenser had ever seen him motor. Spenser had set his watch to countdown mode. When he looked at it, he saw that there were eleven minutes and seventeen seconds left. Spenser held the record by finishing at twenty-three hours, forty-nine minutes, and twenty-eight seconds. Cody was on track to set a new record.
“Come on, boy!” Spenser shouted.
Cody didn’t move any faster, because he couldn’t. He was already giving the run everything he had.
Spenser checked his watch as Cody flew past the finish line, then let out a laugh. Cody beat his old record by three seconds.
After opening the truck, Spenser grabbed a damp blanket from off the seat along with a gallon jug of water. Cody accepted the water wh
ile still gasping in air, then poured some of it over his head. When Spenser draped the damp coolness of the blanket over him, Cody released a sigh, then gulped from the bottle. When the jug was empty, he asked a question.
“Romeo?”
“Not yet,” Spenser said, as he stared at Cody with unabashed pride.
Cody grinned. “I did it!”
“Yes sir, and welcome to the club. This race was the idea of Tanner three. Out of his five apprentices, the first four failed miserably. He had begun to think it was too tough until Tanner four made it. Since then, nineteen men have run this race, and in this kind of heat. You’re only the fifth to make it, and damn if you don’t have the record now too.”
Cody looked shocked by that news.
“I beat your record?”
“By three seconds, and I couldn’t be happier.”
Cody broke eye contact.
“I read your letter… I love you too, Spenser.”
Spenser tousled Cody’s wet hair, then gestured at the truck.
“Go sit in the air-conditioning; there’s more water in there.”
“I’ll take the water, but I’ll wait out here. I want to watch Romeo win too.”
Spenser checked his watch and saw that there were six minutes left.
Cody had been grabbing another bottle of water, seeing the look on Spenser’s face, he knew what he must be thinking.
“He’ll make it,” Cody said.
Spenser nodded. “I know he’s got it in him. I just hope my note to him didn’t backfire.”
“What do you mean? Your note inspired me.”
“I love Romeo, you know I do, but telling him that in a letter wouldn’t light a fire under him, so I challenged him.”
“You dared him to finish?”
“Not exactly, but I was hoping he’d take it that way.”
Cody laughed. “He does love a challenge.”
With less than two minutes remaining, Cody’s confidence over Romeo’s ability had turned into concern for his well-being.
“Maybe we should go look for him. What if he’s passed out?”
“He’ll be here,” Spenser said.
Thirty seconds later, there was still no sign of him. Cody hung his head. As much as he wanted to come out on top and be named Tanner Seven someday, he found it hard to imagine training without Romeo at his side.
“Look!” Spenser said.
Cody did look, and what he saw made him laugh and pump his fist in the air. Romeo came around the bend running full out and looking like a man pursued by the Devil.
“He’s got only thirty-eight seconds left,” Spenser said.
“C’mon, Romeo!” Cody cried out, and could see the look of determination etched on his friend’s sunburned face. Romeo’s cap had fallen off over an hour earlier and he’d dared not stop to reclaim it; his wild yellow hair looked like a madman’s halo.
“Ten seconds,” Spenser said.
“C’mon, Romeo. You can make it!” Cody shouted.
Romeo flew past the finish line in a blur and Cody looked at Spenser.
“Did he do it?”
“Hell yeah he did, with six seconds to spare.”
They turned to find Romeo sprawled in the sand near the truck. His breathing was rapid, but shallow, and despite the heat, he wasn’t sweating.
“Romeo, talk to me,” Spenser said. Romeo’s eyes looked unfocused, but he was able to talk.
“Did I make it in time?”
“Yes, you did, boy. Can you stand?”
“I need help. My back is screwed up.”
Spenser and Cody gave assistance to Romeo as he made it to his feet; they then watched as he weaved about like a drunk.
“Dizzy,” Romeo said. Then he threw up.
“He’s got heatstroke,” Spenser said. He scooped Romeo up in his arms and moved toward the truck. After Cody opened the door, Spenser sat Romeo on the seat, then wrapped a moist blanket around him.
“Drink up,” Cody said, as he handed Romeo a bottle of water.
Spenser got the truck moving. “We’re going to the hospital.”
As they headed for the highway, Romeo seemed to recover a bit due to the water and the coolness of the air-conditioning. Turning his head to the left, he spoke to Spenser.
“What do you know?”
“What’s that?”
“Your note, what is it you know?”
Spenser grinned.
“I know you’re one of the two toughest kids on the planet.”
“Fuckin’ A,” Romeo said, and then he threw up all the water he’d just drank.
17
Goodbye And Good Luck
LAS VEGAS, NEVADA, SEPTEMBER 2012
After leaving Death Valley, Tanner had dropped Andrea off in the small town of Beatty, Nevada, where she reported her kidnapping and the murder of her father.
She made no mention of Tanner, other than to describe him as, “A nice guy who picked me up on the highway and gave me a ride here.”
Andrea’s description of Mr. Smith matched the one given to Tanner by Phelps, but included more detail, such as the half-moon scar Smith had on his chin. She described Jones and Cord to Tanner as well, and she added that Jones seemed to enjoy it when Cord was hitting her father.
Tanner had given Andrea a number to call when things settled down. She did so weeks later. She was living with an aunt, her late mother’s sister, who had three teenagers of her own. Andrea liked her aunt and her cousins, so the transition wasn’t too bad.
Tanner had been in Las Vegas when Andrea called, but he was soon to travel to New York City.
“Have you found Smith yet?” Andrea asked.
“No, and I’m not certain I ever will. What did the cops say?”
“They’re stumped too. They even asked me if my dad was a drug dealer.”
“Maybe it’s best they don’t know anything, and I’m sure they’ve already stopped searching for Smith.”
“But you’ll keep looking, right?”
“As much as possible, Andrea.”
“I still can’t believe my dad is dead, you know?”
“Where are you living now?”
“With an aunt, she’s nice.”
“Good.”
“Tanner?”
“Yeah?”
“You saved my life. Can I call you sometime?”
“No, Andrea. Forget me, forget Smith, and get on with your life. If possible, I’ll handle Smith someday.”
“I understand.”
“I have to go now.”
“Okay, and thanks again. I would have died out there if not for you.”
“I don’t know, kid. From what I saw, you were doing pretty good on your own. You escaped and nearly killed both your captors.”
“I didn’t tell the cops that I killed Rudy. I blamed it on his brother.”
“How are you dealing with that, having killed someone?”
“I don’t feel bad at all. Is that wrong?”
“Rudy was a scum bag who kidnapped you from your home. It would be wrong to waste time thinking about him.”
Andrea laughed. “I like you, Tanner.”
“Take care of yourself, kid. No one else will do it for you.”
“I will.”
“Goodbye, Andrea.”
“Goodbye.”
NEW YORK CITY, MARCH 2018
That was the last Tanner had heard from Andrea, and although Smith faded into the back of his mind, he never forgot about the man. Now Andrea had returned to his life, and she had a line on Smith’s man, Mr. Jones. Tanner dialed the number Andrea had left for him and heard a phone begin ringing.
18
A Well-Earned Rest
BAJA CALIFORNIA, MEXICO, JULY 1998
They kept Romeo in the hospital overnight, then released him with a warning that he take things easy and stay out of the sun.
After three days of catching up on their sleep and food, Spenser locked up the trailers, loaded up the truck, and headed for Cabo Sa
n Lucas. He was so thrilled both boys had passed the test that he gave them an extra week off before training would resume, along with two-thousand each for expenses.
After spending a day there, Cody and Romeo told Spenser that they would join him back in Cabo for the final week, then they caught a flight to San Diego.
The garage where they’d left the red sports car had detailed the vehicle, as Spenser instructed upon leaving it there. It gleamed like new. After spending a Friday night in San Diego, the boys pointed the car toward Tucson, Arizona, where they hoped to hook up again with Barbara and Monique.
The trip took a little over seven hours and they enjoyed every moment of it. They had passed the first test, had conquered themselves, and were on their way to becoming legends.
“Spenser is going to have to choose one of us someday,” Romeo said. “Dude, there’s no way either of us will screw up.”
“Don’t feel bad, you can always get a job as a surfing instructor somewhere,” Cody said, and Romeo punched him on the arm.
When they arrived in Tucson, Cody parked across the street and several houses down from the home where the girls were living.
“Why did you stop here?” Romeo asked.
“Maybe we should call first.”
“Yeah, hell, Monique might not even recognize me. I’ve cut my hair, lost ten pounds, and I’m three shades darker.”
“I’ll drive back to that gas station and use the payphone.”
“Hold on, there’s a car parking in front of the girls’ house.”
The car was a new Mustang. It was midnight black and looked as fast as a bullet. The driver was a big blond dude with muscles to spare, while the guy getting out of the rear was dark-haired and handsome. Barbara and Monique emerged from the car as well, and while Barbara fell into the embrace of the muscleman, Monique linked arms with the dark-haired guy. Barbara appeared happier than Cody could remember seeing her look, and Monique matched her.
Cody had last seen both of them only hours after they buried their best friend and roommate, Anna. For the first time, he wondered if he would only be a reminder of those sad and tragic days.
Young Guns 3Beyond Limits Page 6