Speed

by D C Grant

main thing.”

  “He was supposed to kill you.”

  “I guess that was the intention, but he was making sure that you died first.”

  “So where were you?”

  “In the car, the one Chan was driving. They tied me up and put me in the back while I was still unconscious, no doubt they were planning to deal with me later. I came round when he smashed into you the first time. It took me some time to free myself but I had a secret weapon.”

  “Secret weapon?” Nothing was making sense.

  “A concealed weapon – a knife in my belt buckle. You never know when it will come in handy. Like now, when I was able to get to you before Chan bashed your brains in.”

  “Thanks, but what is going on?” I ask. “How are you mixed up in all this?”

  “I’m sorry, Jason, it wasn’t meant to be like this. It was all going fine and then it just exploded on us. We were so close to exposing him, that’s when it turned bad. We should have known that he’d be onto us sooner rather than later.”

  “Who are talking about?”

  “It’s best you don’t know.”

  “So whose side are you on?”

  “The good side, Jason, don’t you worry.” He sighs. “Your dad and I became aware that there was a crooked cop in our department, running a drug ring. I went undercover, pretended to go bad, gathered evidence, which I handed over to your father to hide. We couldn’t let on what we were investigating because we didn’t know who we could trust. We almost had everything we needed and we were ready to expose him when the accident happened. I knew who was behind it but I couldn’t prove it without the evidence that your father had hidden.”

  “That’s why you kept on asking me.”

  “Yes, and I knew that you had found something when you went to the hotel at the weekend. I backed off then as I didn’t want you in danger, but you got yourself in a mess anyway.”

  “Yes, I did.”

  “But now I have the evidence,” he says as he glances over his shoulder. I look at the back seat and there are the papers and photographs that I found in the hole in the floor. “There’s enough there to put him away for a long time, as long as I can catch him in time.”

  “So who is it?”

  “I can’t tell you, Jason, it would just put you in even more danger.”

  “It has to be someone high up,” I say, remembering that whomever Sandman had phoned had been able to recall the police response. “The Chief of Police?” I remember how he’d quizzed me after Ben and I had come back from our trip to the hotel downtown.

  “I’m sorry, Jason, I really can’t say.”

  I close my eyes and think about how this all started.

  “Did you have anything to do with the accident?” I ask.

  “No, Jason, I had nothing to do with that, believe me. If I had known about it beforehand, I would have pulled the plug straight away.”

  “So who shot out the tire?”

  “Sandman did. I found that out afterward, at the hotel, remember when you were eavesdropping? Man, I wanted to reveal it all there and then, but I had to keep on the inside – to protect you while I waited for the evidence to show up.”

  “Did you plant the drugs?”

  Mike nods. “Yes I did. Sorry, Jason, I was under orders from the boss. We had to discredit you and your father. Maybe he thought it would induce you to come forward with the evidence – sort of trying to prove how good your father was.”

  “Is,” I correct him.

  “Is – still is. You’re right, Jason, but I’ve got to get this evidence logged in before it’s all over for you, and for your father, and maybe for me too.”

  “Do you think he was on to you?”

  “I’m not sure. He seemed more concerned about stopping your father, so maybe he didn’t know who the source was.”

  But what about the money?”

  Mike looks over at me, confused. “What money?”

  “The money for Estelle’s treatment. Chief Clark said that you had to be getting it from somewhere.”

  Mike smiled. “Your father was lending it to me. I led them to think I was taking the money for her treatment, but instead I gave it to your father for safekeeping.

  “Was that the money the captain found?”

  “Yes, that’s right. I never used a single cent from the bastard!”

  “So you’re going to be able to get him now?” I was keen on revenge for what had been done to my parents.

  “Don’t you worry about it, Jason, I’ll deal with whatever comes up. But first I have to get you home.”

  “Home?”

  “Ben’s house. I want you to go back into the house, get into bed and forget this night ever happened.”

  “Are you mad? I almost died. How can I forget?”

  “It’s best that you do.”

  “But my mother’s car is all smashed up. How do I explain that?”

  “Just say the car was stolen, and if Chan is still in the car when they find it, then say that you don’t know who he is. Just go back to bed, Jason, and it’ll all be over by the morning. It’ll be okay. I’m going to put a stop to all this.”

  He turns into the street and Ben’s house is up ahead, and I know it’s not going to be okay. His house is second from the corner and there’s smoke coming from the window, from Ben’s bedroom.

  Fire

  “Shit!” Mike cries as he speeds toward the house. “So that’s where Sandman was heading!” He picks up the handset for the radio as he brakes hard in front of the house. “You stay here, Jason.”

  I have no intention of staying in the car. While he talks into the handset, I fiddle with the seatbelt, cursing at my numb fingers, then I hit the release and it retracts. Mike’s distracted, so I open the door and climb out quickly. My legs are still a bit wobbly but there’s more strength in them now. I’m heading for the house before Mike notices that I’ve left the car.

  “Hey, Jason, come back here!”

  But I ignore him as I run toward the house. I pat my jeans pocket. The key is still there. I use it to open the front door, but thick black smoke pours out and hits the back of my throat, making me cough. I struggle to get my jacket off, and wrap it around my nose and mouth to stop the smoke getting in. I lean on the doorjamb and feel the doorbell under my hand. I press it. The noise of it echoes through the smoke and down the hall. Surely they will hear it.

  I hear Mike call from behind me. “Jason, Jason, get out of there!”

  I look down the hallway but can see no one. I glance over my shoulder. Mike is running toward me. I give the doorbell one last elongated ring and then dive into the house.

  “Jason!” Mike shouts, but I ignore him.

  The smoke is thick, making my eyes water, and in spite of the material in front of my nose, I still breathe it in and start to cough. I find the door to Ben’s parents’ bedroom and bang on it.

  “Jason! What …?”

  Mrs Rosenberg stops when she sees the smoke in the hallway. She turns to shout into the room and I turn away, knowing she will get Mr Rosenberg out. The smoke is even thicker as I move further along the hallway. As I pass his door, Joseph opens it and immediately puts his hand over his mouth, but he is too late; coughing and choking, he leaves his room and heads toward the open front door.

  The smoke is thick in the hallway and I drop to the floor – it is clearer closer to the ground, but not much. I crawl toward Ben’s bedroom door. I reach up and cry out as I touch the handle. Hot. I gather up the sleeve of my sweatshirt and reach up again, grabbing the handle and pulling it down.

  This is where the fire is. I can see the bright flames and hear them pop and crackle. Is Ben still in there? I hear a siren outside and wonder if it’s a fire engine, but that’s all I can hear above the roar of the fire. It’s in the corner, by the computers. I peer through the smoke and can see Ben on the bed. I have to get to him.

  I crawl to Ben’s bed blindly, going from memory, and when I reach the bed I put up a hand and fee
l Ben’s arm so I pull myself up onto my knees and start shaking him. He doesn’t wake up. I have to get him off the bed, onto the floor where the air is clearer.

  Tears stream down my face, my eyes stinging from the smoke; the acrid fumes hit the back of my throat and I swallow down the urge to cough. If I start, I will never stop. I can hear the fire crackling and feel the heat behind me. I have to be quick, but Ben is bigger than me and I’m weak after all I have been through. I start by rocking his body back and forth, moving it closer to the edge of the bed, trying to get the momentum to roll him off. He rolls further and further until he reaches the edge and tumbles over, landing on top of me. I crawl out from under him and grab his arms. Outside the window I can hear shouting, but I can’t shout out without taking the jacket from my face. I try to pull Ben but he’s too heavy and my body’s protesting.

  A fireman dressed in reflective yellow comes into the room, the flashlight on his helmet slicing through the smoke. I can’t see his face because of the mask over his eyes and the oxygen mouthpiece over his nose and mouth. He carries an axe, and for a second I think that he has come to kill us but instead he kneels beside me and, with arm gestures, indicates that I should leave the room.

  “Take him first,” I say, pointing at Ben. I’m not sure if he can hear me.

  In answer he curls his hand into a fist, leaving his thumb sticking out and he uses it to point back to the door – the language is clear: get out.

  “Not before Ben.”

  The fireman shakes his head, slowly with all that equipment on him, and lifts Ben into a seated position, then placing his shoulder in Ben’s midriff, raises him in a