I looked at my watch, 6:00 A.M. Hard to believe it's only been fifteen minutes; seemed so much longer. Time to go!
I went into the garage and lifted the door. The morning sun flooded the garage and reflected off the polished paint and chrome of Brutus, sitting there, ready to go. Top down to imply “openness.” I touched the large white circle I had painted on the trunk; still slightly tacky. I slid behind the wheel and moved the gear shift into neutral, turned the key and instantly 425 horses roared to life. If things required speed I wanted to be driving Brutus. I backed out of the garage, gearshift into neutral and pulled on the parking brake; I was greeted with a metallic “snap” that told me the emergency brake cable had just broken. Engine off and shift into first gear. I closed the garage door and got back in the car.
The morning traffic was light for a Saturday morning and I was making good time up the coastal highway away from L.A. Daryl had said it should take about thirty minutes at the speed limit and I wasn't about to push it. It would have been another beautiful California morning; I'm sure it was for those lucky enough not to be carrying the burdens the recent years had heaped on me and my family.
A red 57' Chevy two door with two kids in it came up behind me. I could see them in the rear view mirror looking over the car, probably wondering why I was glued to the speed limit; just an old guy out for a Saturday morning ride; if they only knew. First opportunity, they blew by me like I was standing still. The Chevy was much faster and louder than stock. I was thankful they left in peace and didn't try to rub it in as they left me in their dust. Hopefully the police were nowhere around; that was the last thing I needed.
I pulled off the highway at a dirt road leading off into the hills. Ten minutes up a winding road and there was a open area about a hundred feet in diameter; the meeting place. There were some overhanging trees that provided shade, but I parked out in the open and shut the car off. I sat there getting nervous. After about the longest five minutes of my life a black BMW pulled into the opening and parked under the trees. My new acquaintance Daryl got out of the passenger side. The driver's window went down and I could see Vincent was driving.
“There's been a slight change of plans.” Daryl said with a smirk waving a knife at me. “My employer requests the presence of your company; we brought your wife and daughter to help you make up your mind.” “Let me see them.” “Of course.” With that Daryl walked me back to the right rear of the BMW and opened the back door for me to get in. “Don't get in!” Vicki screamed. “They're going to kill us!” I wheeled and grabbed Daryl's right wrist that was holding the knife. I grabbed a pen from my shirt pocket and rammed it into his left eye. He went down screaming. Vicki and Sam were already half way out of the car and I pulled them the rest of the way. Vincent was out of the car on the driver's side and coming around the front of the car. I told Vicki and Sam to run into the woods and I reached under my sweatshirt pulled the 45 from the shoulder holster and waited for Vincent to show himself. “He's got a gun.” Daryl yelled. Vincent ducked down. I ran toward the woods to Vicki and Sam. “Vincent killed Shawn and Daryl killed Wayne!” Vicki yelled as she and Sam hid behind a large tree. I turned around to see Vincent helping Daryl into the back seat of the BMW. I fired at them and hit Daryl in the right leg; his scream and clutching move told me that. Vincent took a couple shots in our direction and got behind the wheel.
“Stay here! I'm going to follow them so they don't get away. The police will be here any minute; they've been tracking the car but staying far away so they wouldn't be seen. I love you!” “Don't go!” Vicki cried. “I have to. I can't let them get away!” The BMW had just gotten out of the clearing. I ran to the car, grabbed the tracking device and threw it to Vicki and Sam. “They'll be here soon!” I jumped into Brutus and headed out after the BMW. They had left a trail of dust and were headed for the coastal highway. Three minutes and I was there. I could see the tire marks they left as they left the dirt and turned hard right headed North toward San Francisco.
I fishtailed as I got onto the pavement and headed North. Around the first turn I could see them about a quarter mile ahead. I hoped they wouldn't expect me to be following them; I was right. Around another curve and the distance had shrunk to one eighth of a mile. I was rapidly gaining on them; hopefully they wouldn't see me. At the top of my vision I saw the police helicopter as it was pacing me. They must have ignored the tracker and spotted the white circle Mike and I had decided to put on Brutus as a backup tracking plan. Now I was worried Vicki and Sam might be there longer than I had hoped. The copter was at about fifteen hundred feet and a quarter mile off the coast when it suddenly exploded in a ball of flame. I looked at the BMW and saw Daryl standing in the sunroof opening with a missile launcher. I pushed down on the gas even harder. I was about a hundred yards behind them when I saw Daryl, in obvious pain, coming out of the sunroof with another missile. They disappeared around a curve. As I came around the curve I could see the smoke as the missile was launched. I fired my flare gun ahead and to the left of Brutus. The flare provided a closer, hotter, heat source and for an instant the homing device was indecisive; that was all I needed to get past it. We were still on a straightaway but I lost sight of the missile and couldn't look back to see what it was doing. I managed to load and fire another flare behind and to the left toward the Pacific in a desperate attempt to avoid it in case it had circled back around. It was good that I did. The missile went past me about a hundred feet away on my left. The only other heat source around was the black BMW a short distance ahead. Daryl must have seen it because Vincent put the car into a ninety degree turn to the right off the road and onto a steep hill. The missile missed the BMW and hit the ground and exploded about one hundred fifty yards past them. Meanwhile the BMW was rolling over back down the hill. On one revolution Daryl was thrown halfway out of the car.
I stopped about fifty feet away and, gun drawn, approached the car on the right side. Daryl was on the ground, sitting against the front passenger door. When he was partially ejected from the car, the passenger window must have cut his throat. He was covered in blood, making a gurgling sound. He looked at me with desperate eyes and mouthed “kill me.” I made sure he didn't have a knife or gun, satisfied, I left him to his fate and moved on to find Vincent.
I saw a blood trail and drag marks in the dirt leading away from the mangled pile of metal that used to be the BMW. I followed the trail to the right side of the road and it stopped. Someone heading North must have stopped and picked him up. I ran back to the car and took off after Vincent. A couple miles up the road I saw a car pulled over and a person running away. I blew the horn to let her know I was coming up behind her and stopped. She was in a panic. Vincent had attempted to car jack her, but she had the presence of mind to take the keys as she ran. Given Vincent's badly damaged leg, he was in no condition to chase her and he had apparently lost his gun in the rollover. I told her the police would be here soon and turned to look for Vincent. I saw him across the road moving South. I jumped in the car and went after him. He saw me coming and tried to run away from the road into the brush. I followed him and stopped just short of driving over the cliff. Vincent was pinned between the bushes and the hood of the car. I could hear the police sirens approaching.
“Help me” Vincent pleaded. I didn't move. The car was on a downward slope inches from going over the edge. “Rick, take it easy, don't do anything rash.” It was Mike. I hadn't seen or talked to him since I “killed' him in about what seemed like a hundred years ago. “Mike! How are you! Sorry about the “head shot” but I was afraid if I didn't make it convincing enough they would come out to make sure you were dead.” “I understand. Other than a few days of hearing loss, a sore stomach from the vest, and some bad nightmares, I'm coming along.” “What have we got here?” “This is who killed Shawn with the car. The other one who killed Wayne is a few miles back down the road, but he won't hurt anyone.” “I already saw him, drowned in his own blood just like Wayne. We followed the tracking devic
e and got Vicki and Sam, they're fine and will be waiting for you at the hospital. “Rick, how about getting out of the car so we can take this person in and get him some medical attention.” I started to respond but Vincent cut in. “Yea, get me some medical help, I have rights! I'll sue you for excessive force! Too bad your son won't be here to see the mess I make of your life.” “Mike, I'm going to get out of the car now.” I shut off the engine, put the gear shift in neutral and pulled the emergency brake all the way up.
I opened the door and stepped out. Vincent went from a mocking laugh to a terrified scream as Brutus, moving slowly at first, pushed through the bushes, gained momentum and went over the cliff with Vincent holding onto the hood. The drop to the rocks and water below was a couple hundred feet, plenty of time for Vincent to enjoy his last ride; Brutus would not have had it any other way.
“Rick, do you think this ends it?” “No Mike, I'm afraid it's just the beginning.”
The End
The Cure Conspiracy Page 7