by Greg Barth
“Which way?”
They pointed in the direction that Henry had taken. The road was a narrow, two-lane country road.
I could probably catch them, Ragus thought. To the girls he said, “Anybody else here see anything? Know what’s going on?”
They shook their heads. “I don’t think anybody else is here tonight,” the brunette said. “At least...not alive, anyway.” She looked back toward the open door to the motel office.
“Okay. Both of you come here,” Ragus said.
They stepped up to him, careful to avoid stepping in the blood splatter on the ground near their feet.
“Closer,” Ragus said.
They complied obediently. They stood side by side, erect with good posture, arms down at their sides.
“A little more,” he said.
“Like this?” the brunette said, holding her chin up like she was posing for a picture.
When they got within reach, Ragus reached out his left hand and caught the blonde by one pigtail. He raised his arm high overhead, the lead pipe extended from his hand. He struck down hard, the pipe pummeling the top of the brunette’s skull.
The blonde screamed and struggled to break free from Ragus’s grip. He held her hair tight in his fist.
The brunette’s head jerked back and blood spewed from the top of her scalp. Ragus brought the pipe down again, and she collapsed to the ground. Her legs convulsed and blood spread in a dark pool around her head.
The blonde was batting at him with her fists, screaming at the top of her lungs.
Ragus wrapped her ponytail around his fist and pulled her in close. He hit her three times with the pipe. He felt her skull crush with the third blow.
He let her drop to the ground. He turned back to the street, a snarl etched on his lips, the bloody pipe held low and extended by his side. He looked around and saw no one else.
He heard the faint sound of sirens in the distance.
He got back in his car, placed the lead pipe on the passenger’s side floor mat. He put the car in reverse and backed out of the parking lot.
He pointed the Audi in the direction that Henry had driven off in with Selena.
He put the car in drive and accelerated away from the motel, confident he could catch up to them before the police could.
The Audi was equipped with night-vision technology. The standard version offered thermal imaging to spot pedestrians and animals along the roadside at night. A screen on the dash displayed the roadway ahead and highlighted the living creatures picked up by the infrared camera. Ragus had a customized version with a military-grade night-vision setting as well. In this mode, depth perception was tricky, but it provided him more options when stalking at night.
Ragus kept the speedometer pegged at 100 miles per hour on the straight stretches. He backed off the accelerator on the curves. He had the advantage of Laserlight headlights that turned in the direction that he steered. He pushed it to the max allowed by the road and visibility. The Audi handled the country road better than the truck he was after could.
Pete Malucci had warned him that this one could be problematic.
“Don’t let her appearance make you think she’s not dangerous,” Malucci had said over the phone. “She’s a tiny little thing. Looks like she’d maybe go about 85 pounds max. Maybe five-feet, four-inches tall.”
“What does she look like,” Ragus had asked.
“Little slip of a girl. Straight blonde hair when I saw her. Who knows what color it is now? Petite frame. Skinny.”
“Doesn’t sound that dangerous to me,” Ragus had said. He was just making conversation. He knew that large men didn’t have proper respect for small women. Ragus wasn’t fooled—small stature didn’t equal zero threat.
“If you watched the video of what happened to Kurt Dello and his guys, you’d think otherwise.”
“What do you want done?”
“Bring her back. But if anything happens, take care of it and just bring me a picture. Your fee will be the same.”
It should have been an easy task—a two-way road trip—but things had changed.
This was going to be complicated.
Ragus steered the car through a tight curve that opened onto a long, straight stretch of road. As the blood on his hands dried, his skin stuck to the leather steering wheel.
He caught a quick glimpse of taillights in the far distance. He floored the gas pedal. The Audi responded and the acceleration pushed him back deeper into his seat.
A second later, the taillights disappeared.
He closed the distance, saw the road that turned off to the right a second too late and sped passed it. He let off the accelerator and allowed the car to slow. He found a wide spot on the shoulder and turned around.
He killed the headlights and turned on the night vision system. This would be tricky, but he didn’t want them to know they were being followed.
He drove back and made the turn.
He lost depth perception with the night-vision screen. At best it was like playing a video game. He continued down the road, pushing the car faster than was safe.
After he had traveled a mile, the taillights came back into view. He backed off a little.
The sun hadn’t risen yet, but the sky was growing lighter.
He wouldn’t lose them again.
“I’ve got you,” he muttered to himself.
He followed them at a distance and considered the best way to take them. They were armed with at least one shotgun. Ragus had packed light, bringing only the lead pipe and his .32 ACP Beretta Cheetah. It was the model 82 with the single-stack magazine. The single-stack version was easier to conceal, but limited him to nine consecutive shots. But he was sent to pick up a girl already being held captive. It should have been enough.
Now the small pistol limited him. They would be wary if he approached them in the car. He wouldn’t be able to take them by surprise on this road.
He would have to wait until they stopped.
It didn’t matter. Ragus was a patient man.
The truck would need gas long before the Audi would.
THREE
SELENA
A gentle hand shook my shoulder. I opened my eyes then squinted. The sun shone brightly through the windshield.
My cheek was resting on Henry’s leg. I had drooled and made a dark patch on the light-blue denim. I was lying lengthwise on the bench seat with my legs curled up. Max lay on the seat in front of me, snuggled up in my arms. He was asleep.
“How long was I out?” I said.
“A good bit. I figured you needed the rest,” Henry said.
I sat up carefully. Max opened his eyes and raised his snout. He licked me on the chin. My hands shook.
“Where are we?” I sat up and looked around. We were at a gas station at the front end of a Walmart plaza. There was another row of shops adjacent to the Walmart.
“You should stay down. Better that nobody sees you. I’m going to get some gas.” He handed me a notepad and pen. “While I’m doing that, write down your sizes and anything you need.”
“There a shoe store in this plaza?”
“Yeah. Looks like it. If they’re open this early.”
I spied a grassy area off to the side.
“Think it’s okay for me to walk Max while you shop?”
Henry looked around. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. These parking lots usually have cameras.”
I raised up enough for Henry to get out. While he pumped the gas, I made a list of all my sizes—shirt, pants, bra, underwear, shoes, and socks. I wrote a note at the bottom of the page that read, “Henry, don’t get me any cheap-ass shoes.”
I raised my head higher and looked around the plaza. There was a wine shop on the corner. I took up the pen and wrote “bourbon” on the pad.
Henry stepped away to pay the clerk for the gas.
I put my head back down.
Max stood and barked. He had a loud, throaty bark that startled me. I had never he
ard him make a sound before. He looked out the back glass and growled deep in his throat.
“What is it, boy?” I peered up over the back of the seat. Through the back glass, I saw a tall man with slumped broad shoulders walking away from the back of Henry’s truck. He had long, wavy black hair speckled with gray. Something about him gave me the creeps. I watched him without moving. He walked back to his car, which was in line behind us for the gas pumps.
“What’s this asshole doing?” I mumbled.
He stopped at his Audi and began cleaning the windshield.
“It’s okay, Max. He’s not bothering Henry’s truck. He just got the squeegee while he’s waiting his turn. Big scary motherfucker though, ain’t he?”
Max continued to growl at him..
“Good boy, Max.”
Henry came back around and climbed in the cab. “What’s all the excitement?” he said.
“Max was just doing his job. Doesn’t want anybody near your truck.”
I handed Henry the list. He scanned it. “Any, uh...particulars on any of these, uh...items?”
“No thongs. Cotton, bikini cut.”
“Uh...roger that.”
I smiled at him. “You’ll do fine.”
He squinted hard at the list. “I’m thinking the bourbon may not be such a good idea.”
“Why’s that?”
“It’s a bit early in the day for one thing. Somebody drinks this early...”
“Look, Henry, I don’t need a lecture, okay? If you knew what happened to me last night, you’d want a drink yourself. I don’t have a problem. I just want a drink.”
“If you don’t have a problem, why are your hands shaking like that?”
“Because I want a drink real goddamn bad, alright? Jesus! Now can we please just schedule the intervention for some other fucking day?”
He started the truck and drove up closer to the Walmart. I forgot all about the guy with the weird hair in the Audi behind us.
When he parked, I gave Henry a wad of bills from my bag.
I slumped down in the seat and talked to Max while Henry shopped. He returned twenty minutes later pushing a shopping cart. He opened the door and handed me the bags. He parked the shopping cart and climbed back in the cab. “I’ll pull off somewhere discreet, so you can clean up and change.”
“Nah, just keep driving,” I said. “I’m not a bit shy, Henry. And I don’t care if you don’t.”
“Fine with me. Good to put some miles down.”
I rustled through the bags. He had a gallon of water, some baby wipes and baby bath. Once we were out of the parking lot, I stripped from the waist down. I used the wipes and baby bath to wash my body. It took some doing as my legs and feet were caked in dirt. My knees were tattered and scabbed over from the falls I’d taken. I put my old stockings, panties, and skirt in a shopping bag. I piled the used wipes on top and tied the top of the bag closed.
Once I was as clean as I could get, I put on the new underwear, socks, jeans, and shoes. I then took off my sweatshirt and bra, looked down at my chest and stomach. So much blood. I cleaned myself with care. I leaned forward and let Henry wash my back with one hand while he steered the truck with the other. I washed my face and did the best I could with my hair. Henry had even bought a hairbrush.
“There’s some deodorant in there too,” Henry said.
I found the deodorant in the bag. I pulled the top off and held it to my nose—smelled all girly and fresh. I couldn’t help but smile. Henry was a good, thoughtful man.
I adjusted the new bra and put it on. I slipped on the new cotton top. It had a flowery pattern and a wide neck that hung loose around my shoulders and plunged in front. Not something I would have picked, but the old man had his own taste in women’s clothes.
“Got you a jacket too. In case you get cold.”
“Nice.”
He passed me a small white bag that was folded over on top. Max raised his nose and sniffed at the air.
“Breakfast?” Henry said.
“A drink first.”
I grabbed for the slender brown paper bag on the seat between us. Inside was a bottle of Jack Daniels. “Ah, you did good my man.” I could already taste it.
“Be careful. Open containers are a big deal in this state.”
I was pouring a drink down my throat straight from the bottle. It took me a second to catch my breath after the big gulp. “Don’t worry.” My voice was husky. “If we get pulled over, I’ll hide the bottle under my skirt.”
He laughed. “With those skinny little legs? You’d look like a transvestite with a hard-on. Besides, you ain’t wearing that skirt anymore.”
“You like looking at my legs, old man?” I said.
He chuckled.
I took another drink. “You mind if I smoke?”
“Put the window down first. I can stand it, but Max may not care for it.”
I lit up. “So where are you taking me?”
“A war buddy of mine did pretty good for himself. He’s got a big tract of wilderness in the mountains of Western North Carolina. There’s a hunting cabin out there that he’s let me use before. It’s remote. You can lay low there while we figure this thing out.”
“Isn’t Western North Carolina closer to Johnson City?”
“It is, very close, but this place is so remote, you might as well be on the dark side of the moon.”
I considered this. I wasn’t going to run for the rest of my life. “It could work for me.” I took a long draw on the cigarette and chased it with a sip of Jack Daniels. “Sounds like we’re in for a long drive.”
“It’ll be even longer, the way we’re going.”
I shook the bottle. “Might should have got a couple of these.”
FOUR
RAGUS
Ragus had a strong affinity for trashy women. The attraction was more than physical. Ragus wasn’t an outgoing person. While introverted, he wasn’t shy nor was he socially awkward. He had a tendency to be reserved but lightened up around people of a certain ilk. He didn’t rank people according to class; there was simply a type of person that he was attracted to.
The social game wasn’t his thing. He hated having to always explain to people how to pronounce his name. RAY-juhs. Just think Rage-Us.
It bothered him some that he had killed two women that he would otherwise enjoy spending time with. It felt like a waste. Ragus thought about it the way that art lovers mourn the loss of all the priceless art destroyed during the air raids as the Allies reclaimed Europe during World War II. A high cost, but necessary.
And now he was chasing down another gorgeously trashy woman to end her life as well. Of course, this one was known to have a mean streak a mile wide. And that made it all the more tragic, because Ragus was also attracted to meanness.
The working girls he had killed the night before didn’t weigh on his conscience. He didn’t think along those lines. Too bad that the world was now short two hot pieces of ass. That was all. The only thing worse would have been him leaving them alive to bear witness to his presence at the motel.
Ragus mounted his tablet on the dashboard before pulling out of the Walmart parking lot. He opened a custom app and tapped in a few commands. A map of his surrounding area appeared. A red, flashing dot blinked on the map. The dot was moving away from his current location.
The crowded shopping plaza was problematic. Walmart had cameras in their lots as a rule. He also had to account for the shotgun and rifle hanging in the truck window along with the presence of the dog. Ragus had decided to play it safe. He had placed a GPS tracking device on the underside of the pickup truck while the old man was paying for his gas.
He could hang back, bide his time. When they stopped, he would strike.
He watched the red dot on the map. They were about five miles away when his phone chirped. He checked the display. Pete Malucci. He activated the call. “Maloosh,” he said.
“This is some bullshit, man,” Malucci said.
“It�
�s complicated.”
“Look, just please tell me that one of the young ladies napping on the sidewalk at the no-tell motel is our girl.”
Ragus sighed. “Neither of them is the one you guys sent me after.”
“What are you doing about that?”
“I’m on top of it. Like I said. Complicated.”
“The man in charge is going to go ape shit when he hears this. I don’t have to tell you that.”
“Why would I care about that?” Ragus ended the call.
He studied the flashing red dot. He zoomed out on the tablet to look at their route in comparison to other roadways. He got out of the car and walked over to a cafe in the plaza. He took the tablet in with him and chose a table in the back, away from the windows.
The cafe was small and cozy. It had a Mediterranean-style look to it. The waitress that served him was an older woman in a clean uniform. She took his order with a pad and pen.
He ordered coffee and a breakfast plate with scrambled eggs, sausage links, and hash browns.
The large TV on the far wall was tuned to a news station. He couldn’t hear what the reporter said. The picture displayed on the screen was the front of The Apple Valley Inn. The image cut to a police officer giving a sound bite that had been recorded earlier, then cut to an image of a body shrouded in white being loaded by two CSI men into the back of the Medical Examiner’s box truck. Then a photograph of a young woman was shown. Dark hair, pretty in a plain sort of way. The next picture was a still image from a CCTV camera of the same young woman with blonde hair. She was inside a diner and carrying two shotguns, one in each hand. The next image was a close up sketch of her with light hair. The caption read “Selena Carson wanted for questioning in mass killing spree. Assumed Armed and Extremely Dangerous. Call the TipLine if you have information on her whereabouts.”
“Can you believe that?” the waitress said.
“It’s something, isn’t it?” he said. “I mean, what kind of person does something like that?”
“I’m betting it has to do with drugs.”
“Not often you see a woman involved in a mass killing.”
“It all started when they took prayer out of schools.”