by Andy Rane
James didn’t realize he had been sleeping until he jerked awake. He blinked into the darkness of the room. His eyes were slow to adjust to the darkness. What little light came from a small gap in the curtains. James must’ve seemed unsteady because Paynter spoke softly to him.
“You ok?” he asked.
James looked from him to Nicole on the bed closest to the window. He could just make out that she had made a pillow out of her coat. She had determined the blanket to be of fairly good, relatively clean quality, and it was pulled up to her ear. By the steady rise and fall of her body, he could tell she hadn’t had trouble sleeping. Kevin was curled into the fetal position on the nearest bed. James looked in Paynter’s direction, not quite able to make out the man’s eyes.
“What time is it?” James asked. Paynter flicked his sleeve off his wrist.
“Three-ish,” he said.
“I didn’t realize I had nodded off,” James said.
“You always talk in your sleep?” Paynter asked. James shot him a quick look.
“Don’t know…never been awake to listen. Did I say anything good?”
“Nothing too clear,” Paynter said, but he could tell the man was lying.
“Did you sleep? You’ve got to be running on empty,” James said, stifling a yawn.
“A little. I did have that power nap this…I mean yesterday morning. I’ll sleep tomorrow too…in the car. When you’re driving,” Paynter said.
“You trust me?” James asked.
“I trust you…I trust you want to know what’s going on. And that you know by now that if I was out to hurt you…well, I’ve had plenty of opportunity,” Paynter said.
James nodded.
“So…we know where we are headed, right?”
“Yep, and by the looks of this map I found--” Paynter said.
“You found a map?” James asked.
“In the lobby. Not exactly a Rand McNally, but it’ll do us for now,” Paynter said.
“Ok, so now we have a town. But, what good does that do us without a name?” James asked.
“Who said we didn’t have a name?” Paynter said, and the corner of his mouth lifted. James cocked an eyebrow at him.
“Oh?” James said.
“I could probably rattle off all of them, though I never saved a shred of evidence. Taylor was the one who told me. He was the one responsible for transporting most of you,” Paynter said.
“All three of us,” James said. Paynter nodded slowly.
“Yeah.”
“Scattered to the wind,” James said.
“I guess it wasn’t the greatest idea, but we had to separate you. There was just no other option at the time,” he said.
“I still don’t understand. What were their plans? What is it they were going to do with us…that someone now thinks they have to get rid of us?”
“It’s complicated, James. And, it’s late. Try to get some rest.”
“Sure…rest…cuz this stuff is easy to just let go of,” James said.
“You’re talking to someone who’s spent the last twenty-four years thinking about it. You’ll get no sympathy here,” Paynter said
“I guess not. So, you gave each family an envelope.”
“Yeah, we set up all the adopting families. About a year later, I sent out the bogus birth certificates. It was Taylor’s idea, but he never knew…or at least I didn’t think he knew that I had followed through on it. I think he just guessed. Never really knew where to contact him about it, and that wasn’t exactly part of the plan anyway.”
Something surged within James at those words. He had been adopted, though like most infants, he was not made aware of it until he was at an age that his parents felt he would be ready to understand and absorb the information. He was nine. It was one of those days that seemed to stand out in a lifetime of vague childhood memories. He could remember what he was wearing (a red and blue polo shirt and a ragged pair of Lee jeans his mother would throw away no less than a month later), the weather (it was a warm, sunny, spring day), and the meal his mother had cooked that he had watched become cold on his plate (pork chops, white rice, and boiled peas). It was a day that he had set his life by. There were events that had happened before his knowledge of his adoption and those that came after. He could date things by their relation to that day of his life. And there was a sense of consciousness that related to that day and the words that his mother said to him. There seemed to be consequences after that. An absurd sense of importance that related to everything he did. He became serious about school and sports and everything else he did. He had moved forward with a sense of purpose. Until recently, that is. Until his father died. That had been the end, hadn’t it? It was like a light had turned on. His father had died, and the sense of importance that had driven James until then had faded. His mother’s death seemed to take whatever was left. That was what Nicole had seen. She hadn’t been around for the initial blow, but she had known, sensed, that something major had happened to James with the death of his mother. He’d been unable to move on from her death because he had never really come to grips with his father’s death. He blinked at the tears that had welled in his eyes. It was a damn fine time to have a moment of revelation, James thought. He closed his eyes and drifted briefly.
As if on cue, Nicole made a small groan from the bed that disturbed James. He sat forward and looked at her figure stirring slightly on the bed. She had rolled over, facing away from them. James looked back at Paynter who smiled.
“Too many Twinkies,” he said, and James could see the crooked smile in the dark.
With that James settled back in the chair.
“So, what’s his name?” James asked.
“Doug,” Paynter said, “Doug Peterson--”
The words had barely left Paynter’s mouth when the quiet of the room was pierced with a guttural shriek. James’ heart leapt to his throat and he stood up. His legs tingled from the night’s stillness. Nicole was pointing at the window, pushing herself back to the edge of the bed. Paynter was on his feet as well.
“Hey…hey, hey…What is it?” James said, running to her and pulling her to him. She shook uncontrollably.
“Oh my god…there was someone…someone at the window, I swear, peeking in through the crack in the blinds,” she said through heavy breaths, still pointing.
Kevin lurched from his bed, looking inebriated.
“What the fu--” he said.
“Shhhh!” came from three mouths.
James looked at the blinds on the window then to Paynter. He looked skeptical, but moved to the door, a finger raised, listening. He removed the trash can, braced the door with a foot, and cracked it a hair, trying to look out. Though dim, the light from the front of the building made the evening seem darker than it was. The snow wasn’t falling quite as heavily, but a small amount fell onto the floor of the room. Paynter ventured to open it further. Nicole stood now, still shaking under James’ arms. She pulled her coat off the bed and put it on.
“I swear… I swear I saw something through the blind. Maybe….maybe it was just a shadow.”
“No,” Paynter said, who quickly closed the door again. James looked struck.
“What?” James asked.
“There are fresh tracks leading up to the window, and away. Someone was there,” Paynter said.
“Jesus Christ. You’re kidding. Out here? Do you really think?”
“I told you, James. These people are professionals. Why the hell else would anyone come sneaking around here?”
“Someone found us? Here? How? How could they know?” Kevin said. James looked to Paynter with the same question.
“No time to discuss semantics,” Paynter said, pulling the car keys from his pocket and handing them to James. “Take these. You three go out the door to the left and around the far side of the building. Get to the car. The tracks seem to lead back around the near side. I’ll go that way. Give me two minutes. If I don’t show, go without me. No…don’t look at me like th
at…I’m serious. If anyone else approaches you, go without me.”
“But…,” Nicole said.
“I’ll be fine. They aren’t after me, and…you don’t really need me anymore,” Paynter said, and James thought there was a brief flash of sadness to go with the lie.
“Remember, James. Doug Peterson. Try to be indirect. He doesn’t know you two from Adam. Remember how you felt when you first met Kevin. Doug’s a Midwestern boy. Might be a little more of a shock.”
“I’ll meet you in the parking lot,” James said.
“With luck. Remember, if anything happens to me…anything…go, find your way. Doug will have what you need…another envelope.”
They quickly gathered what little belongings they had brought into the room. Though they couldn’t quite see the snow yet, they could feel it and the cold of the night, as it struck their bodies. James watched as Paynter disappeared around the right hand side of the building, retracing the way they had come in. He grabbed Nicole’s arm firmly and headed in the opposite direction. Kevin trudged along close behind. There really was no other light than that of the streetlamp in the front parking lot, and the light it gave off was only bright due to the snow. It illuminated the edge of the building in stark contrast to the rear. James froze at the shadow’s edge and peered one eye around as quickly as he could.
It was the man with the gun. The man who had been in his house. The man who Paynter had shot with a tranquilizer dart. Dr. Taylor was standing, waiting for them. He had known to wait there…somehow, which meant that Paynter would run into someone else. James dared another quick look, then realized that the man had been distracted. He was about fifty feet away. James grabbed for Nicole’s hand and placed the car key into her cold fingers as quietly as possible. He could see her eyes like beacons of danger in the light from the lamp.
“When I distract him,” James whispered, looking between Nicole and Kevin “you two go for the car.”
Upon saying this, her eyes welled up, and she whispered a slow, quiet ‘no’.
“I’ll be ok. I’m not going to do anything stupid. I didn’t play fifteen years of soccer for nothing.”
He patted her hand in a gesture that he found both useless and comforting only to himself. She was there. She was real. Everything else was not. He turned and bolted around the corner as if he had been sprinting. The move surprised Nicole and she yelped, but fell back against the building with Kevin.
Taylor was slow to react, as if he hadn’t expected their plan to work. James eyed up a large row of bushes that he could easily put between himself and the man. Taylor shouted something James didn’t hear and started running through the nearly knee-deep drift of snow towards him. James quickly glanced back at Nicole, then bolted for the cover of the shrubbery. He could hear the man shout after him in pursuit. Had he expected James to just give up?
James crossed the street to a row of small houses that might have looked picturesque at another time. Now they looked like a wall he was trapped against. The road had been plowed recently, and James splashed across through half-melted slush. It would probably refreeze by morning. He felt his legs moving steadily beneath him on the surface of the road, but he hadn’t expected the curb. The pain from his ankle made him abandon his balance, and he tumbled into a snow covered trash can at the curb. The metal lid skidded out into the street clanging loudly as James hit the ground hard, clutching his leg. Taylor rounded the bushes and spotted James across the street. James tried to duck behind the can, feeling foolish as he did so. He knew it was no use. Taylor carefully crossed the road toward him.
James looked about for something, anything to use in his defense. A light had come on in the nearby house, presumably the owners of the can he had just crashed into. Call 911. Call 911. Wait, do they even have 911 out here? Then Paynter’s voice spoke in his head, “They are the police.” Crap.
“Don’t try and get away, James,” Taylor shouted.
“You’re persistent,” James said, standing and wincing at the pain in his ankle, “I’ll give you that.”
“Paynter isn’t here to rescue you now,” Taylor said.
“Oh, I wouldn’t rule that out,” James said, and he heard the car before Taylor did, “I have a few more friends than you.”
“Oh, I--” Taylor said.
Then, he not only heard the car, but saw the Chrysler 300M slide haphazardly out of the hotel parking lot, tires spinning, and into the road, headed right toward him.
“…shit!”
James watched as Taylor stared at the car in disbelief, grappling with the choices of capturing James or being run over. The car made a bead for him and the man lifted the gun toward it. The engine was gunning, and the tires were furiously fighting with the snow to hurtle down upon the man. He leapt out of the way as the car skidded between James and the man. Both doors opened, and Nicole and Kevin were both screaming something unintelligible. James didn’t need the hint. He threw himself into the back seat and slammed the door behind him. He heard her foot pound the gas pedal. The tail fished in the slush, but the tires found some traction, throwing James back in his seat. He massaged his leg as he tried to sit up. He realized Nicole was crying furiously, wiping her hair from her damp face. She was possessed, turning every few blocks, and gunning the engine along snowy side streets.
“He killed him,” Kevin finally said, his voice low.
“He shot him…in the parking lot…” Nicole blubbed.
“Paynter?” James said, and Nicole nodded, her hair flailing.
“A man in a black coat and hat,” she sobbed between words, “The gun…it didn’t make…a sound. He just raised it and…and shot him…square in the chest and…and then walked away.”
Chapter 17
Taylor watched as the car sped away, fishtailing up the road and violently around a corner. He wiped his cold, damp brow and quietly cursed himself. He rolled onto his side and pushed on the ground to get up. A shove to the back threw him back down into the snow. He tumbled into the slush on the road and pointed the gun in the direction of his would-be assailant. The man in black kicked him again and barked a harsh laugh.
“Use it, ya fool! I don’t know why you even carry the goddamn thing,” he said, the light from the hotel parking lot, casting a shadow under the brim of his cap.
He brushed some snow from his own gun. The silencer barrel gleamed in the light from the street lamp. A window opened on the second floor in the house nearest to them. The owner loudly recommended that they finish their business and move elsewhere or he would have to notify the authorities, only in much more colorful terms. The man in black turned to the crew-cut coifed man leaning out the window. That man had just realized that both of the men in the street were carrying guns. The silenced weapon was brought to level with the second story window.
“Now, that wasn’t very nice, was it?” said the man in black.
The man in the window cursed and ducked out of view just before two rounds pierced the sill.
“Holy shit,” Taylor said and he moved quickly to his feet and started toward the parking lot.
“Where are you going?” said the man in black, as he strode to catch him up.
“Where’s Paynter?” Taylor said.
“He’s dead.”
“What?”
Taylor spun on his heels, stopping the man in black in his tracks. They were nose to nose, though Taylor gave up at least four inches.
“What’s the matter, Doc? Still have some of those old feelings for your pal?” the man spat.
“He didn’t…need to die,” said Taylor.
“Need. Need? Why does there always have to be a need? He was on the list. There’s your need.”
His smile disappeared. He moved so quickly, that it took a moment for Taylor to realize that he was no longer holding his own gun. The man in black had disarmed him and wrenched him by the collar.
“If I believe there is a need for someone to die, then I will make it so. Paynter was in the way. Those kids become
that much less to deal with, without him. They have nothing without him.”
“You sound so sure,” said Taylor, the tip of his lip bleeding down his chin.
“I am, that’s why they sent me,” and the smile returned as he loosened his grip on the doctor’s collar.
“And what of Paynter?” Taylor said.
“What of him?”
“You’re just going to leave him there?” Taylor asked.
“Um…let me think about that one…yeah, let’s go,” the man in black said without really thinking.
They walked like men on a casual stroll back to the parking lot. The man in black handed Taylor back his gun.
“Try not to shoot your dick off,” the man said.
He stopped suddenly and threw a hand against Taylor’s chest to stop him. It knocked the wind out of Taylor for a moment and he rubbed the spot, looking at the man in black with renewed hatred. Just as quickly, the man started moving again, this time with a quicker pace.