by Rob Ashman
The bark on the wood cut into her hands but she pressed on ignoring the pain. She could hear the sound of Lucas sobbing below. The soil piled up around her and she dug deeper. Then suddenly she hit something hard.
‘That’s me,’ Lucas called out.
Moran removed her shirt and wrapped it around her hands. They were bleeding. She dug into the earth like a crazy woman, pulling at the mounds of earth with her forearms to clear the way. The metal box was about two foot down, and she hit the lid again with a metallic clunk. This galvanised her into more frenzied digging.
She eventually found the edge of the metal coffin and scraped the pole along its length. She brushed the earth away with her hands to find four clasps locking down the lid. She unfastened them and heaved against the weight of the top and the remaining soil. Lucas saw a crack of light opening up down one side. He shoved with all his might with his hands and his knees. The lid hinged upwards.
He could see Moran, red in the face with exertion, straining to lift the lid. Lucas brought his knees up, thrust his feet under it and pushed. Soil and rocks fell into the coffin covering his face and body. The lid flew open, sending Moran toppling backwards.
Lucas shielded his eyes from the brightness, hauled himself out and rolled across the ground.
‘I got to go,’ said Moran putting on her shirt. ‘I’ll come back for you.’ She reached in her bag and pulled out the bottle of water and what remained of the chocolate. She sprinted off in the direction of the lodge.
Mechanic threw open the door to the cabin. Harper almost fell from the chair in shock, the noose tightened around his neck as he shifted position.
‘What a fantastic day for a penance,’ she crowed at the top of her voice.
Harper steadied himself. Blood was dripping from his hand and pooling on the wooden floor. The grubby bandage was now wrapped around two fingers. He was struggling to stand up straight, his back kept going into spasm and the muscles in his legs screamed with cramps. His breathing was shallow as he tried to remain focused.
‘You know, your friend wasn’t very talkative today. I’m not sure he’s doing so good.’ Mechanic walked to the stove and lifted off the coffee pot. She busied herself at the kitchenette filling it with water and ground coffee.
‘But he’s pleased that you have his best interests at heart. You do, don’t you?’
Harper nodded his head.
‘I can’t hear you,’ she barked with her back to him.
‘Yes, I do,’ Harper croaked.
Mechanic walked back placing the pot on the stove and threw herself onto the couch.
‘What shall we do today? I fancy doing some more of that dancing we did last night. You were really good. What do you say?’
‘Go to hell.’ The words hissed from his throat.
‘Don’t you be bad mouthing me, it will only get your friend killed.’
‘Sorry.’
‘That’s better.’ She jumped from the sofa and flitted around tidying the place up. It was a bizarre scene. Mechanic hung her coat up and collected dirty cups, while a man dripped blood on the floor, standing on a chair with a noose around his neck. She washed the cups in the sink. The coffee pot glugged and bubbled on the heat.
Mechanic dried the cups and started singing. It was a tuneless, wordless song which she belted out. She swayed her hips and shoulders and pirouetted around the room.
‘You sing too,’ she said, drifting past him and knocking his leg.
Harper wobbled and the noose gripped tighter.
‘Come on, you sing too, it will raise your spirits.’
Harper began to emit a low groan.
‘That’s better. See, you feel much better now, don’t you?’
Harper nodded and continued to croak out a sound.
‘Now how about we dance a little?’
Mechanic sashayed up to him and gyrated like a stripper. She rolled her hips and dipped her knees with her hands on her head.
‘You want to dance with me, Harper? I bet I turn you on.’ She ground her hips some more and spun around in front of him. ‘You’re not dancing.’
Harper steeled every sinew in his body.
‘I said, you’re not dancing.’ She raised her voice, pulling out the knife.
His body shook with the expectation of what was to come.
‘I said, dance!’ she yelled and kicked away the chair.
Harper dropped like a stone and the rope yanked tight around his neck. His legs jerked and his body twisted in the air.
The bullet shattered the window, slammed into Mechanic’s right shoulder and exited through her upper chest. The force spun her around. The second shell demolished her right knee sending blood and bone gushing into the air.
Mechanic collapsed onto the wooden floor and rolled into the base of the sofa holding her knee.
Moran ran down the side of the lodge and crashed through the front door. Harper was convulsing wildly and his head looked like it was about to burst wide open. Moran reached the coat hooks but couldn’t untie the knot. Harper was choking and gagging as he jerked at the end of the rope.
Moran saw the knife on the floor. She reached down to grab it. Mechanic seized her wrist. Moran toppled over and fell in a heap. Mechanic was snarling and hissing as she held on to Moran.
Moran struggled to break free and swung the Beretta. The butt of the gun cracked hard into Mechanic’s temple. She went limp and released her grip. Moran grasped the knife, leapt up and took an almighty swipe at the rope. The blade severed it in one and Harper slammed onto the floor. Moran scrambled over and yanked the noose from around his neck. His face was completely purple.
She laid Harper on his back and shook him, striking at his chest with her fists and blowing in his mouth. Harper convulsed and took an enormous gulp of air. He coughed and gagged blood onto his chin.
She left Harper where he was and rolled Mechanic onto her front. She ripped the keys from her pocket, crawled back to Harper and snapped open the cuffs. Harper groaned as the metal bracelets came away from his wrists. He lay on the floor wheezing and gasping while Moran unbuckled the belt and removed it from around his waist.
Moran stood up and walked over to Mechanic. She was out cold and there was a widening pool of blood around her shattered knee and another emerging from under her right shoulder. Moran secured the thick leather belt around her middle and snapped the cuffs on her wrists.
Harper was rolling around trying to sit up. Moran put her arms under his and dragged him towards the front door propping him against the wall. He was rubbing his neck with his hands and coughing.
Moran took the rope, went back to Mechanic and tied it around the top of her thigh as a makeshift tourniquet to stem the bleeding. She stripped the cloth from the table, balled it up and stuffed it against the chest wound under Mechanic’s shirt.
Harper was looking around, dazed.
‘What the fuck happened? Did you find Lucas?’
‘I found him.’
‘Where was he?’
‘He was buried underground in a metal coffin. No wonder I couldn’t find him last night. You stay here, I need to go get him.’ She handed Harper her gun. ‘If she moves put another hole in her.’
Moran ran back to Lucas. She found him staggering around, stretching his limbs and arching his back.
‘Hey, you need to be careful,’ she said.
‘Where’s Harper? How is he? Where’s Mechanic?’ He fell to his knees.
‘Wow, take it easy. Harper is safe. He looks like he’s been run over by a truck and he needs a doctor but he’ll survive. Mechanic is out of commission and she’s bleeding out. We need to get back there. You up for a walk?’
‘Yes.’ He held out his arm and she pulled him to his feet.
‘Take it slow.’
‘I thought I was going to die in there.’
‘I think that was Mechanic’s plan. And Harper nearly died as well, several times.’
They walked back at a slow pace. Lucas had to stop
every so often to steady himself. Along the way, Moran filled Lucas in with the details of what Mechanic had done to Harper and how he had kept her occupied while she searched for him. Lucas described how Mechanic would visit him and taunt him. The outflow of emotions was too much for Lucas and he couldn’t stop crying.
They reached the cabin and went inside. Harper was still sitting, leaning against the wall with the gun by his side. Mechanic was coming round, groaning on the floor.
‘Fucking hell,’ Lucas said when he saw the state of Harper. Moran went to the sink, drew water into a bowl and tended to the deep wounds around Harper’s neck and wrists. She unwound the bandage from his fingers, Harper gritted his teeth as the material separated from his exposed flesh. Moran found some salt in one of the cupboards, made a solution in a bowl and handed it to Harper.
‘It will hurt like a bastard.’
Harper dunked his fingers into the fluid and almost hit the roof.
Lucas found the coffee and something to eat. He sat on the floor next to Mechanic and watched her writhe around. Moran fixed food for Harper and a mug of water.
‘Thanks,’ he said. Everything hurt.
‘Why did you patch her up?’ asked Lucas.
‘Because the holes in her are from my gun and I didn’t really think it was my place to kill her.’
‘What do we do with her now?’
Lucas and Harper flashed each other a look.
Moran and Lucas dragged Mechanic outside. She lay on her front, blood oozing from her chest. Harper hobbled out and sank into the wicker chair. Moran had found the keys to the van in the bedroom and opened it up. Lucas helped her heave the gurney onto the floor.
Mechanic came round and started to struggle against the cuffs.
‘What the fuck?’ she said twisting herself to lie on her side staring at Harper. She let out a yell as the shattered bones crunched in her knee.
‘Careful now,’ Harper said.
‘You stupid fuck. Now your precious friend Lucas is a dead man.’
Moran stepped up onto the decking.
‘You!’ spluttered Mechanic. ‘I saw you once with Lucas in an ice-cream parlour on the Vegas Strip. You must be a cop too.’
Moran nodded. ‘Yeah, we were there but I don’t recall him introducing me to you.’
‘Have you told her, Harper? Have you told her that this means Lucas is a dead man?’
‘No, I thought I’d leave that up to you.’
Mechanic laughed. ‘You fuckwit, you killed him. You’ll never find him now.’
Lucas walked up and stood behind Moran. Mechanic for once was lost for words, her mouth opening and closing like a landed fish.
‘Ready,’ Lucas said.
‘Yup,’ said Moran.
They marched forward and hauled Mechanic across the floor to the edge of the walkway. They rolled her over the edge and onto the gurney. She landed hard and yelped in pain. Moran stepped down, pulled out the extendable handle and inserted the crossbar. They towed Mechanic away from the lodge.
‘I’m going to kill you all,’ she snarled as she bounced around. Once or twice Mechanic tried to get off the gurney but her injuries were too great and she slumped back down. They walked in silence through the undergrowth and came to a clearing. Thirty yards ahead stood the mounds of earth.
‘We thought you’d like to try it out,’ Lucas said.
Mechanic twisted around and saw where she was. She laughed.
‘You think you’re going to scare me with that? Be my guest. None of you have the balls to kill me. You’re all cops and law-abiding citizens.’
‘That’s right, we are. But before we call the cops to have you taken in, I want you to feel what it’s like. Besides, we are all a lot safer if you are locked up in there.’
Mechanic laughed again. ‘I knew it. You’re gutless pieces of shit. Put me in the box, I don’t care.’
Moran pulled open the lid and Lucas tilted the gurney up onto two wheels. Mechanic rolled off and hit the side of the hole before landing in the metal box with a thud.
‘You should be ripping me apart right now, not putting me away for some limp dick cop to arrest me.’ Moran slammed the lid and fixed the clasps.
The sound of Mechanic laughing drifted up through the air pipe.
‘You haven’t got the balls.’ They could hear her voice screaming from the box. Moran kicked the soil on top, filling in the trench. Lucas and Harper followed suit, pushing the earth into the hole. A few minutes later it was covered over. The dirt had a sound-deadening quality, but they could still hear Mechanic’s cackling voice rising from the tube.
All three stood around. Nobody spoke. Each one in their own personal quiet zone, taking in what had just happened. Each one thinking ‘It’s over’.
Lucas picked up the branch Moran had used to dig him out and took out Mechanic’s hunting knife. He sat on the floor and drew the blade across the wood. Slivers of bark peeled away. He rotated the wood and repeated the process.
‘We used to do this when I was a kid. Me and my dad would go camping and we’d sit around whittling away at old branches. I had one of those Swiss Army knives with the twenty-seven blades, I thought I was the kingpin with that. We would make spears and bows and arrows and go hunting. My mum would never have approved of such things so we never told her.’
He turned the wood over and over in his hands, slicing at the end, whittling it down into a point.
The sound of Mechanic’s voice drifted up from the air pipe.
‘You do realise I will spend my days in a high security mental hospital having three square meals a day and watching daytime TV while your wife will be decomposing in the ground, Lucas. Lucas, do you hear me?’ She screamed with laughter.
Lucas put the wood on the floor and sawed the end off.
‘Yeah, I used to do the same thing except neither of my parents would have approved,’ said Moran, ‘so I didn’t tell them either.’
They allowed the moment to pass between them.
Moran looked at Harper.
‘Are you ready? We got some serious cleaning up to do in that log cabin.’
‘Yes, come on, let’s go.’
They turned and left Lucas sitting on the ground.
Lucas thought about the families Mechanic had murdered, he thought about the women left alive with nothing to live for. He thought about the kids who would never see their next birthday. He thought about the couples she had killed in the motels and how in the end she did it for fun. He thought about Chris Bassano and his grieving family, and of course he thought about his wife, Darlene. It would have been their wedding anniversary next month. A tear ran down his cheek.
He rooted around in his jacket pocket and brought out the Polaroid camera which Harper had presented him as a gift. He had found it on the floor of the van when taking out the gurney. He slid the lever on the side and it popped open.
He put the viewfinder to his eye.
Lucas pushed the button.
50
Exactly one year on
June 1985
Lucas heard the familiar sound of alloy wheels striking concrete. Harper had come to visit and he was late. They were watching the afternoon baseball game and Lucas had prepared a feast. A feast of chili dogs and beer that is. There was a rapid knock at the door.
Lucas opened it and Harper pushed past him into the hallway.
‘It’s hammering down out there,’ he said shaking water from his coat and onto the walls as he tossed it in the corner. He left dirty footprints on the carpet on his way to the living room, carrying with him a suitcase of forty-eight cans of beer.
‘Come in, why don’t you,’ Lucas said as he breezed by.
Lucas hung up Harper’s coat and went into the living room to find him with a beer already in hand, pulling back the tab on another. He handed it to Lucas.
‘Cheers. Here’s to drinking in the afternoon.’ They hit the cans together and drank.
‘You hungry?’
‘Al
ways hungry, man. You of all people should know that. Always hungry and always thirsty.’ He took a massive slurp and burped.
Lucas clanked around with pots and plates in the kitchen.
Harper went to the sideboard and picked up a framed photograph.
‘This always makes me smile,’ he said holding it up.
‘Yeah, me too. You know it was a year ago today.’
‘Yup, I got up this morning and smiled so wide my head almost broke in half. It is truly a day to celebrate.’ He emptied the can down his throat and cracked open another.
Harper took another swig and continued, ‘I keep mine stuck to the dashboard of my car. Every time a light turns red or I can’t find a parking space or someone cuts me up, I take a look at it and smile. It works every time.’
‘What could be better – the New York Yankees versus the Tampa Bay Rays on a day of celebration.’ Lucas laughed and handed Harper a plate overflowing with a foot-long hot dog, chilli, onions, grated cheese and a fist-sized helping of jalapenos on the side.
‘You got sauces?’ Harper asked.
‘What?’
‘You know, like condiments.’
Lucas skulked back into the kitchen shaking his head.
Harper balanced the photograph on the top of the TV.
Lucas returned with ketchup and sat down ready for the game.
‘That way we can look at both,’ Harper said pointing to the picture and holding his can out towards Lucas.
‘Yes, that way we can look at both.’
‘Cheers.’
Two thousand miles and three time zones away Moran was waking up. It was late, but that was fine because she had nothing planned and all day to do it in. She got up and padded into the kitchen. The plates from last night’s dinner were still on the table along with the wine glasses. She clicked on the kettle and turned the TV to a twenty-four-hour news channel.