by Andy Rane
“The same…who do you think shot me?” Taylor asked.
Dr. Taylor looked to his left. The large mirror next to the TV reflected the figure of a man reclining on the other bed in the room. He was light haired and medium height by the looks of it. The man was wearing blue jeans, but everything else looked black. Black boots, black shirt, black jacket, and a black newsboy cap. He was smoking the last of a cigarette, and by the look of the ashtray besides him, it might have been the end of a pack. There was something disconcerting about his face, but Taylor couldn’t make it out.
“Who do you work for?” Taylor asked. The man almost spit.
“So many questions, Doc, so little time. Now that you’re alert, or at least conscious, you can tell me where we’re headed,” the man in black said.
“We? You think I’m that stupid?” Taylor asked.
“Do you really want me to answer that question truthfully, or would you like me to smile and lie to you?”
“Listen asshole…” but Dr. Taylor did not finish.
The man closed the distance between them in a heartbeat, cigarette still at the corner of his mouth, and grabbed the collar of Taylor’s trench coat, shaking him, his face contorted on one side.
“Excuse me? I think you were about to say something stupid. Am I right? I suggest you think about your situation here, Doc, and understand that you are in no position to be calling anyone, especially me, an asshole. Dragged your sorry ass out of that place when I could’ve gotten busted myself. And for what? To have some over-educated pussy call me names? I don’t think so.”
He released the collar from his grip brusquely, pulling the cigarette from the side of his mouth that seemed to function. Dr. Taylor winced as a fresh cloud of pain and smoke marred his vision. He raised a hand up to his face. He wasn’t sure if it was just his head, or whether his hand was actually shaking.
“Wh…what time is it?” Taylor asked quietly.
“It’s almost one…in the afternoon,” the man said.
“Dammit,” Taylor whispered.
“You know where they’re headed,” the man said.
“Yes…roughly, and at this rate, they’ll be there way before us.”
“Roughly? Which way, roughly?”
“West,” Taylor said. The man laughed.
“You’re gonna be a hard nut to bust, aren’t you, doc? I have other sources, y’know. Don’t really need you.”
“Take interstate 80 to Ohio.”
“Well, that poses a problem, now doesn’t it? Are you sure that’s the way their headed?”
“I’d bet my life on it. Without a doubt. Why do you say it’s a problem?” Taylor asked.
“Big ol’ storm headed in from that way. Can’t really avoid it now. They’re calling for snow out the wazoo.”
“Then maybe we have some luck on our side,” Taylor said.
“Or we’re up a shit’s creek,” the man said.
“What do you plan on doing once we find them?” Taylor asked. The smile, if you could call the crooked line on the man’s face that, told Taylor everything he needed to know.
“You leave that up to me, Doc. Like I said, I represent a concerned party. I’ll deal with their concerns. You deal with yours. Now, we’d better get our boogie-shoes on, hadn’t we?”
“Right,” Taylor said, staggering to a standing position. He reached for the dresser to prevent a fall.
“Don’t worry, Doc, you’ll be able to recover in the car.”
The man pulled his cap off, ran a hand through fading auburn hair, then placed the cap back on his head. He pulled up the collar of the black pea coat and opened the door of the motel room. The light, though not truly bright for a cloudy winter afternoon, made Dr. Taylor cringe. Then he saw the car. The man in black had a black car. An old black sports car.
“I’m going to recover in that?” said the doctor.
“C’mon, Doc, you must’ve seen a few of these when you were a young man.”
Admittedly, the doctor had, but they had all belonged to people he didn’t really socialize with or, more specifically, didn’t want to socialize with him. It was a jock’s car, which was fitting, because the man in black seemed like a jock. A jock who still thought that cars like that got him women and respect.
“Sixty-nine Barracuda, Doc. A goddamn pussy-wagon. Original Formula S package with the 383 in it. It’s a goddamn dream, you’ll see.”
“I can’t wait,” Taylor said.
“You’ll see, doc…you’ll see. By the end of this little trip of ours, you’re gonna love this fucking car.”
Chapter 14
It started as a slow crawl that developed into a stand still. The two lanes of interstate traffic became a solid wall of vehicles, snow, and billowing plumes of exhaust. For the first time, James thought that Paynter looked worried.
“Can we find somewhere to stop?” James said.
“I don’t think we can risk it,” Paynter said.
“Do you really think they’re that close,” Kevin said.
“In cases like this, I think it helps to think that they’re in the car behind you,” Paynter said. Kevin glanced back nervously.
“They. They. You keep referring to ‘they’,” James said, “Do you have an idea as to who ‘they’ are?”
“They could be several parties. That’s what worries me. It’s an unknown quantity at this point. Fred Taylor was a complete surprise. I did not expect to find him at your house. I don’t know what he was hoping to do. Certainly nothing like the man I used to know,” he said.
“Not exactly the rabble-rouser type?” James asked.
“No…he’s scared…or just plain tired. Tired of hiding. Those are the only two reasons I can think of. Otherwise, he would have never exposed himself in this way.”
“Expose himself?”
“James, we’ve been in hiding for over twenty years. People thought he was dead…hell, I thought he was dead, which was probably convenient. Most dead guys get left alone. But, by coming out like this, he’s really opening the bag.”
“And your coming out won’t?” Nicole added.
“It’s all in the timing. Hounds usually chase the first fox out of the hole,” Paynter said.
“Trouble is, they usually catch the slowest,” James said.
Paynter was sitting, the driver’s seat leaned back a bit more than before. His hands lay idle against the wheel. Traffic hadn’t moved in over half an hour. They had all zipped their jackets back up as the car’s engine tried to create enough heat against the bitter cold outside. Nicole had set herself against the side of Paynter’s seat, facing James.
“I still don’t understand the connection with James and Kevin,” she said. “Why are they trying to get at him? I mean, do you think that Fred guy would have killed him?”
“No,” Paynter said, waving a hand. “At least I don’t think he would have. I think the gun was just for his security.”
“His security,” laughed Nicole.
“Cuz I’m such a dangerous kind of guy,” James said.
“He didn’t know what to expect,” Paynter said.
“You could’ve gone all kung-fu on him,” Kevin said.
“Yeah,” James said, “with all that kung-fu I don’t know.”
“I could’ve hit him with a frying pan,” Nicole said.
“In a fight, I’ll take your frying pan over his kung-fu any day,” Kevin said, rubbing his forehead.
They all turned as a police car went past them in the emergency lane. It was announcing something over its loudspeaker, but they all missed what it had said. Another soon passed, more slowly. The highway was being shut down due to the storm. Cars were being directed off at the next exit.
“Great,” Paynter said.
“Well,” James said, “at least they won’t be able to follow us.”
“Don’t bet on it,” Paynter said.
“Where there’s a will, there’s a way,” Nicole said.
“If anyone is following us, they
’ll have to get off here too,” Kevin said.
“Yes. That’s what we have to think,” Paynter said.
“Traffic’s moving,” James said, and the cars ahead of them starting showing signs of life.
It took another half hour, but they managed to move the final half mile of the highway to the next exit. The sign was covered with snow, making it unreadable. Off of the exit ramp, the traffic seemed to all be turning to the right. Paynter headed left.
“Reverse psychology?” James said.
“Common sense,” Paynter said, smiling. “Any lodgings in that direction will be full by now.”
“We’re stopping?” Nicole said.
“The side roads will be just as bad as the highway,” James said.
“The distance we can make tonight would be negligible,” Paynter said.
“Don’t you need a credit card to get into most hotels nowadays?” Nicole said.
“Don’t you worry about that,” Paynter said, the wry smile on his face again. “I’ve got enough identities and credit cards to go across the country and back, and they’d still be looking for a Mr. H. Potter from Small Flinching, Wisconsin.”
“Nice,” Kevin said.
“Aren’t you just the James Bond type,” Nicole said.
“You learn a lot when you run for your life,” Paynter said.
Twenty minutes of slow crawling through blinding snow and poorly plowed roads made James realize why the traffic had gone the other way. There was nothing in this direction. Houses were few and far between. They had almost reached the Ohio border when they exited the highway, but the further they drove, James was fairly certain they were becoming lost. He could read the concern on Paynter’s face. They came to a crossroad. A sign at the side of the road was obscured by caked-on snow.
“Kevin,” Paynter said, a finger raised at the sign, “would you do the honors?”
Kevin nodded, pulling his collar up. They watched as he stepped out into the whiteness. He was immediately enveloped in the snow, as if the white powder had detected his presence. He bundled a hand in his sleeve and knocked on the corner of the blue sign. There was a Shell station three miles to the left. A hotel two miles to the right. Kevin climbed back into the car, trying to brush the snow from himself without getting everyone else wet.
“Looks like we’re in luck,” Kevin said.
“Call it what you will,” Paynter said.
Chapter 15
James stared out of the car window at the snow falling against the cooling windshield. His eyes focused at the clumps of flakes as they tumbled against the glass. He tried to focus on the flakes themselves. Perhaps that would clear his mind. Enable him to gather all of what had happened so far into a malleable form that he could shape into something that made sense. If he could only concentrate. He let his eyes cross and lost his focus, leaning his head against the rest.
“Are you all right?” Nicole said.
Her hand drifted to his forehead and she gently brushed aside a stray hair.
James watched as Paynter walked back across the crowded parking lot toward the car. He turned and looked at Nicole, blinking.
“Yeah,” he said, trying to force every bit of confusion from his face, “I’m fine.”
“Liar,” she said.
Paynter opened the door and climbed in.
“They have a room at the back,” he said. “There’s no parking back there, though, so we’ll have to walk around.”
James looked at him, an eyebrow cocked.
“Guy said we got lucky. The weather has him full up for the night. Last room available. Lucky us.”
James looked at the shabby white building. “Yeah, lucky us.”
“No questions?” Kevin said.
“I think he’d been napping. He didn’t seem all there. Didn’t even ask how many we were,” Paynter said. He waved a silver key on a nondescript ring.
“Wow…not even your standard magnetic strip plastic card? Can’t wait to see what this looks like,” James said.
“It’s late and there’s a warm dry place to lie down. Let’s go,” Paynter said, and he moved to get back out of the car.
James reached out quickly and grabbed his arm, steadying himself against the back of the driver’s seat. It was an awkward position from which to exert force.
“James,” whispered Nicole.
“Jesus, James,” Kevin said.
“If this is something stupid,” James said, “If this is…some sort of ploy…”
Paynter looked into James’ eyes, and the corner of his mouth raised in that funny way that James wasn’t sure he liked. He wasn’t resisting James’ grasp, but James could feel that it probably would have been no trouble for the man to break it. He felt Paynter relax.
Paynter offered him the room key. James glanced at it. It might have been a show of good faith, but James couldn’t shake the possibility that it might still be bait in the trap. Paynter had drawn heavily on James’ trust, and now he felt like the account was drying up. This was such a bad situation, or at least had the possibility to be bad. A stranger and a car that belonged to someone who didn’t exist in the middle of Nowhere, Pennsylvania, with a key to a room that had no measure of trace. James released Paynter’s arm.
“Sorry…lead the way,” James said.
They all got out of the car, greeted by a bitter wind and thick snow that was made pale pink by the pall cast by the solitary streetlight nearby. It was a surreal snowscape. Every car in the lot was covered or close to being covered. A lonely looking phone booth stood at the edge of the parking lot, accompanied by what looked like a mail box. Like an old couple waiting for a bus that would never come.
James handed Paynter the key and followed the man as he led the way to a doorway around the back of the building. Nicole carried an overnight bag she had packed. The door was unmarked and certainly did not resemble a normal hotel room. There was one small window, with plastic blinds. There was no mark on the door at all. Not even a peep hole. Paynter brushed the snow from the door handle and inserted the key. He pushed the door open and groped for a light switch. It relieved James slightly to see the man so uncomfortable. Paynter cursed under his breath. The room was dark and there were no lights behind the building to aid them in their entrance.
“Smells like my Dad’s bathroom in there…yum,” Kevin said.
“Here,” Nicole said, and brushed past Paynter.
She stepped through to a table that neither Paynter nor James or Kevin had seen, and pulled the switch to a table lamp. Paynter stood in the doorway a moment, giving Nicole a look.
“You boys need to eat your veggies. Vitamin K gives you good night vision,” she said, and shrugged.
“Alrighty then,” Kevin said.
“I’ll say,” Paynter said, and he shut the door after Kevin.
It was an old storage room and smelled every bit as Kevin had described. Everything about the room screamed off the books. There were two single beds and the sheets looked like they might crack if anything touched it. There were dead bugs along the bottom of the wall, throughout the room. There was a TV in the corner of the room on the floor that James’ would have bet was black and white, if it had worked. Two chairs that looked to be refugees from the 80s kept dust off the far wall. A doorway at the rear of the room suggested the existence of a bathroom that James had no desire of exploring.
“Glad I didn’t bother to bring pajamas…wouldn’t want to get them dirty,” Kevin said.
“Funny,” Paynter said, frowning slightly, “but this will do. Not exactly the Ritz, but it’ll do.”
“I’ve never stayed at a Ritz, but if it’s the opposite of this, then maybe I have a clearer picture,” Nicole said.
“At least it’s warm…ish,” James said, blowing on his hands.
Paynter threw his coat over the back of a chair and glanced into the bathroom. Again, he batted around for a light switch, only this time there really was no light.
“That might be a good thing,” Jam
es said as he watched.
Nicole touched the blanket on the bed furtively. It didn’t bite, though she didn’t look too sure. Paynter settled himself into one of the chairs. It groaned under his relatively light weight. Nicole eyed James with what he thought might have been guilt.
“You take the bed,” James said.
“Ooo, thanks for the treat,” she said, lifting the moth-eaten pillow from the bed.
“Would you prefer one of the comfy chairs Dr. Paynter is modeling?”
They both looked to Paynter, who had settled as best he could into the chair.
“I can sleep just about anywhere,” he said, “doesn’t bother me. I’ve slept in worse.”
James looked around. “That’s a frightening thought,” he said.
“I don’t think I can sleep sitting up,” Kevin said.
“Take the other bed,” James said. He turned to Nicole. “You too.”
“Thanks,” Kevin said.
James walked over to the door and checked the lock. There was no deadbolt. He looked around and quickly spotted what he was looking for; he picked up the flimsy metal trash can and placed it directly in the path of the door. He turned to find his three companions gazing at him in various stages of wonder.
“I…ummm…just thought that maybe we’d hear if someone was trying to sneak in,” he said.
“Personally…I’d rather not know ahead of time if someone was going to shoot me. Seems like a lot of senseless screaming on my part,” Kevin said. Nicole and Paynter were smiling at James.
“Shouldn’t you people be asleep?” James asked.
Chapter 16
James sat in the chair, willing the discomfort in his lower back to go away. He had locked himself into one position after quickly discovering that there would be no truly comfortable position. The chair reminded him of one from his childhood. His grandmother, on his father’s side, had a chair just like it out in the carless garage in Vermont. They had only been there once, when he was eight. But, he could remember the layout of that garage as if he had been there the day before. It was what he found himself relating everything in his life that was ‘old’ with. That garage was age and everything that could be older than him. He had wandered through the garage, touching everything, absorbing the lack of newness. There were two old bikes, the tires flat, the chains rusty, and the seats cracking from dry rot. He had become aware of the difference between an old toy and a new toy and had realized that nothing he had was truly old even if he thought it was. He drew a finger across the seat of the closest bike and rubbed the dust between his thumb and forefinger. This was old. No matter how messy his room had been, his toys had never had this kind of dust on it. It was like a mark of age. He spent the entire three days in and out of that garage, much to his mother’s dismay. When they finally left, he had cried himself to sleep on the way back to Jersey. Something inside had told him he would never return. And he hadn’t. His grandmother died the following year, and the house was sold in an estate auction. Years later he asked his mother about the house, and how come she had sold it. She had avoided the question, and never truly answered. He often thought that he might go back someday and find it, perhaps even buy it if it were still standing. But, what he really wanted was that garage and the things it held. And more so, he wanted to return to that feeling of wonder, though he knew he had probably left that behind with his childhood.