The Empty Heart: A Collection

by Derek Murphy

  Taking the pistol from Dag’s nerveless hand, Chloe ran barefoot to the driver’s side of a Hummer and jerked the door open. Dag saw the surprised face of a man dissolve in a welter of blood and brains as she fired the gun. She grasped the man by one arm and jerked him out the door of the vehicle, cursing as the body only came out partway, held in place by the shoulder and lap belt. Dag fumbled with the catch on the belt until he had it free and the body fell out the door.

  Jerking at the coat the man wore; Chloe dragged it from him and quickly wiped the blood and brains from the steering wheel and seat before discarding the coat and climbing inside. Dag ran around the other side and was nearly emasculated by the corner of the briefcase she threw into the passenger’s seat as he climbed in. The engine of the vehicle was running to keep the heater going and it was warm inside as she put the transmission in gear and started off with a jerk.

  Stunned by what he had done, Dag asked, "What now?"

  Chloe said, "We split the money and go our separate ways!"

  "Okay. The hundred-thousand I was supposed to get for the drugs is what I expected anyway."

  Cocking her head at him, she smiled contemptuously at him. "You don’t get it, do you? That briefcase was Boris’ petty cash bank. There’s three million in there. Your partner sold you out for a lot less. He was getting a hundred and fifty thousand and Boris was going to rid him of his partner. I say we split this money in half."

  "What are you going to do?"

  She shook her head and stared at the snowy road ahead. "Take my half and disappear back home in Australia. Boris had partners who are going to want anyone involved in this dead. They don’t know you, so you’re safe. At least you will be if we can get clear of downtown. His people are probably cruising the area right now. I’m going to drive to the airport, buy a one-way ticket to Sidney and get out of town tonight." Holding up the little purse she had carried by a thin strap, she said, "I keep my Passport with me all the time. You can get a cab home from there and no one will be the wiser."

  He nodded at the instrument panel and asked, "What about the Hummer?"

  She waggled her gloved fingers at him. "I’m wearing gloves. So are you. Why do you think I took the time to wipe the blood off the seat? Can’t very well catch a flight if I’m covered in blood."

  He looked down at himself for telltale traces of blood, and despite the dim light cast by the instrument panel; the reflected light from the snow outside showed him that he was more or less clean. Dag looked back at the woman.

  "You’ve been planning something like this for a long while, haven’t you?"

  Her voice was bitter as she said, "Boris got me started on coke. He all but killed my career and it took me years to convince him that I needed to get clean. After I had, I knew I had to get away from him."

  Agitated, she half-turned in the seat, taking her eyes from the snowy road, and said, "You know what he used to make me do? Have sex with his bodyguards while he watched. There wasn’t anything so perverted and dirty that he wouldn’t make me do it. He even used to trade me for favors from his business partners. That’s all I was to him; a commodity to be traded and sold."

  Dag said, "I need to call my wife. She left town yesterday with the kids. If she knows I’ve got money, she’ll come back. If she doesn’t, I might as well be dead."

  Chloe took her attention from the road again to look at him, and he saw her eyes go up and down as though surveying him.

  She said, "You could do alright in Australia. You’re big and while I can’t really tell because of the coat; you look like you’ve got some muscle. The ‘Sheilas’ would go for you."

  Shaking his head, Dag said, "I can’t leave. I’ve got my kids. Mary and the kids are all I live for."

  As if she hadn’t heard him, Chloe asked, "How well are you set up?"

  At his uncomprehending look, she rolled her eyes and elaborated.

  "I mean, how big is your wanker? Your weiner, schlong, dork, Johnson. How big is your cock? And your balls? Do they hang? Or, do they just ride up next to your meat?"

  Frowning, he asked, "What kind of questions are those? Hell, Lady! I just met you and all I want is to get out of this with enough money to put my family back together."

  Shrugging, she looked at him, grinning. Dag really wished she would pay more attention to her driving; his foot was beginning to cramp up from pressing a nonexistent brake pedal.

  "I’m going to guess that you’ve got a pretty good set and your wife hasn’t let you use them in a while. If you’re going to Sidney with me, I might want to give you a try."

  Just then, the streetlights went out, indicating a power outage and while the snow reflected what little light there was, the headlights of the Hummer was the only illumination discernable for blocks. The blowing snow reflected the light back at them, like fog, making visibility somewhat problematic. Chloe cursed for a few seconds and missed an on-ramp to the Crosstown Expressway. She jerked the wheel around, slewing the big vehicle in a big, sliding circle as she tried to turn around. Despite the snow that covered everything, there was a thick layer of ice under it and Dag felt the vehicle begin to slide uncontrollably. He was aware of Chloe fighting the wheel to keep it under control, but wasn’t surprised when they jolted over the curb and smashed sideways into a streetlight pole, snapping it off at the base. Grating over the base of the pole, the Hummer slid down a steep embankment and began to roll, finally coming to rest on its side in a deep ditch.

  With the cold, Dag would have thought that the water in the ditch would have frozen solid, but he heard it rushing through a broken window and tried to push himself up. He had been thrown in a heap on top of Chloe and in the dim light cast by the instrument panel; he saw that the water was already covering most of her. She appeared to have hit her head and he saw blood on the side of her face. Squirming around, he got his feet against the driver’s side door, which had become the floor and began working at the belt and shoulder-harness that kept Chloe in place. Once he had it free of her, he grasped the lapels of her coat and pulled her up so that he could get a shoulder under her belly. Though still pretty, the extra weight she had put on proved a hindrance to getting her onto his shoulder. Despite the weight, she seemed smaller than he at first thought her to be. He briefly marveled that she was little more than five feet tall. As he bent to get his shoulder under her, she bent in the middle and his hand slid up her leg, trying to get a good grasp on her and inadvertently slid over her buttocks. He wasn’t shocked to find that she was without underwear, but was nonetheless surprised; the weather was too cold to dress that way. The feel of the nylon stockings on her legs had misled him to think that she was more or less fully dressed.

  Climbing up the seats to the other door, he struggled to hold her weight as he pushed at the door. He realized that he just didn’t have enough leverage to get it open and tried the power-window button out of desperation. Surprised as the window slid down in its track, he renewed his efforts and got Chloe’s limp body out onto the side of the vehicle. She began to come around as he tugged her dress down to cover her and flipped her coat back over her.

  "The money…" She mumbled.

  "You’re lucky to be alive."

  She opened her eyes and the fiery look in them surprised him.

  "Get the money. Without it, all of this was for nothing."

  Sliding back into the interior, he located the briefcase and climbed back out onto the side of the Hummer. Chloe was more or less herself by then and led the way in sliding off the side of the vehicle. She cursed as she splashed into waist-deep, icy water, and reached up to take the briefcase from him.

  "Let’s get out of here before I freeze!"

  Sliding into the water, Dag cursed as he felt the cold water burning into him like freezing ice-picks, feeling his scrotum contract, and began slogging through the water after her. They slipped and slid all the way to the top of the embankment and stopped out of sheer exhaustion. Chloe was bent over and clutching the briefcase to her, un
mindful of her coat flapping in the driving wind as the snowflakes stung her cheeks.

  Dag said, "We’ve got to get somewhere warm!"

  "We need a taxi!"

  Exasperated, he said, "Look around you! There isn’t any traffic. You’re not going to find a taxi."

  He fumbled his cell phone from his pocket, hoping the water hadn’t gotten to it and almost jumped for joy as he saw it light up. Dialing quickly, he heard only static and lowered the phone to look at it. There were no bars indicating any kind of signal. Just his luck; the power outage had to have included the nearest cell tower. Shoving the phone back into his pocket, he looked up and down the road. There was no traffic going in either direction and not even the glow of oncoming headlights. Even the cops appeared to have deserted their duties tonight.

  Grabbing Chloe by the arm, he began to drag her toward the nearest building. There were no lights on in it, but he expected that because of the power outage. But that didn’t mean that there would be no one inside.

  "Come on! Maybe there’s someone in there!"

  After a few steps, it became evident that Chloe couldn’t walk through the snow and ice in her heels and she stopped to kick them off, picking them up in her free hand as she still clung to the briefcase. She gamely tried walking through the snow, but cursed with each step until Dag picked her up, cradling her in his arms. She wasn’t especially heavy but after the exertion of hauling her out of the Hummer, he felt as though she had gained a hundred pounds just in the past five minutes. With the briefcase against her chest, Chloe tried with little success to tug her coat around her as cover from the storm. Giving up, she pointed toward a side door of the building and jiggled in his arms, causing him to nearly drop her.

  "Over there! Someone is standing there smoking! We can get inside that way!"

  Abruptly changing direction, Dag nearly slipped on the snow and ice but recovered his footing and trudged in the direction of the side door. Nearing it, he saw the man toss his cigarette into the snow and hurry toward them. Just as he opened his mouth to say something inane in thanks, the man whipped out a pistol and sent it crashing against the side of Dag’s head. As he collapsed to the snow, he was aware of Chloe’s curses as she was spilled into the white stuff. He was still awake long enough to hear her attempting to fight the man, but spun into lightning-shot darkness when a shoe connected with the side of his head.

  * * *

  Cold and wet. That was nearly all Dag was aware of when he began to awaken. That and the splitting pain in his head when he opened his eyes and moved his head a little in the pitch dark. No. That wasn’t right. It wasn’t quite pitch dark. There was a glow from behind him and he tried to move his head around to see what was making the light. The pain didn’t quite let him complete the task, but he did realize that he was in the trunk of a car. The glow was caused by the taillights and he wondered if he had been driven somewhere. Wherever it was, it seemed to be inside. Maybe a garage or a warehouse or something.

  Just as the pain in his head was beginning to ease up, the trunk lid was thrown open causing a new jolt of pain at the sudden light, and a body was thrown in on top of him. Just before the trunk lid was slammed shut to the accompaniment of male laughter, he caught a glimpse of a female derrière and an unclothed cooze. That meant that they had thrown Chloe in on top of him. She wasn’t quiet in her distress; a wail and string of curses accompanied her sniffles and sobs and he surmised that they had used her before throwing her inside with him. At least her arms and legs weren’t tied. He couldn’t feel his hands and hoped that she would be able to loosen his bonds.

  When her stream of invective became repetitive, he said, "Chloe. Untie my hands."

  "The bastards took my Passport!"

  She paused for a moment and he thought that he could see her staring at him, but she wormed her way around in the trunk until she lay somewhat crosswise of him and her hands were busy at the knots confining his wrists. Just as she started, the car began to move, jostling them and making her roll half over him. His eyes had adjusted to the dim light and he could tell that her coat was gone and her expensive dress was in tatters, barely covering anything. Her nylons had great runs and tears in them and while they didn’t really cover anything before, he felt sorry for her; she had to be even colder than he was.

  She brought him up to date on their situation as she worked at his bonds and he was acutely aware of one breast pressed into his groin as she squirmed to get at his wrists. Chloe became aware of his awareness and paused in her efforts.

  Her muffled voice said, "I was right about you. You’re not half bad set up. If we can get out of this, I’d still like to take you to Sidney with me."

  "Just get my hands loose."

  "I don’t know what good you think you can do. We’re still in the trunk of a car."

  Knowing her impetuous nature, he stopped short of telling her that whoever had tied him up had failed to search him first; his pistol still dug into the small of his back. The slight discomfort represented a promise of escape for him.

  A low exclamation came just as he felt his hands come apart and he knew that she had gotten the cord untied. One hand got tangled up with her other breast as he tried to pull it around but he regretted that the hand felt dead and wished they were under other circumstances. He still wanted his wife and kids, but was slowly coming to realize that even if he was free and clear, even the money he had hoped to have wouldn’t get them back for him. Mary had been disenchanted with him even before he lost his job.

  The car stopped and they heard one of the doors chunk shut. But the car began to roll, faster and faster until the sound of crashing over something came and they were thrown against each other. There was a sense of falling and a loud splash and they knew they had been dumped in the river. The feeling of being trapped like a rat on a sinking ship came to jar his brain and he could barely think with the noise of Chloe’s caterwauling and curses. In her panic, she surged against him in an effort to push the trunk lid open and he turned his attention to trying to find the trunk release that all the new cars had in them. The little bit of light from the taillights helped, but not before water began to bubble its way into the trunk. Cold fingers of ice returned to him and he realized that in the few minutes they had been in the trunk together, their combined body heat had served to warm it a little.

  When he found the brightly colored, plastic lever, he yelled for Chloe to take a deep breath and did so himself. He pulled it and the trunk lid seemed to fly open; the trapped air in the trunk seemingly catapulting them from within. The cold water shocked Dag a little, but the exposure he had already experienced had prepared him a little. Little light reached this far into the water and he was surprised that the car had sunk so quickly. His last sight of it as it sank showed him the open car windows and he knew that their prospective murderers had lowered all the windows in an effort to hasten their deaths. Something clutched at his leg and he looked down to see Chloe’s distended eyes as she struggled not to breathe the water. He tangled a hand in her hair and kicked out strongly, propelling them toward the surface.

  Upon reaching the surface, he felt as though his lungs were on fire and his limbs were leaden. Stroking weakly, he was barely aware of his hand still tangled in Chloe’s hair and when he noticed it, pulled her toward him, propping her head on his chest. Her eyes fluttered open and she coughed weakly, turning her head to one side to vomit water. Amid her coughing and wheezing, he heard only the sound of sleet and snow hissing into the water and turned his head this way and that to determine which direction to go to find the riverbank. A darkness filled one direction that nonetheless contained shapes of sorts and he pushed off toward them, hoping he wasn’t taking them further out into the water.

  An eternity later, his hand scooped up mud and he stumbled onto his knees in shallow water, then pushed himself onto his feet, still dragging Chloe through the water by her hair. She mewled something as he got her into shallower water and he bent to lift her to her feet. The e
ffort was nearly fruitless as she seemed unable to walk and he found himself hoisting one of her arms over his shoulder and dragging her that way with her feet trailing in the water behind him.

  Reaching the shore, he found that they were under one of the piers that lined the riverbank and walked as far under it as he could to escape the freshening wind. By chance more than design, he found one of the utility shacks that one business or another used to stow equipment under the pier and searched until he found a rock big enough to bash the lock off the door with. Pushing the door open, he bent to lift Chloe and found that she had passed out. Lifting her limp body by a shoulder, he pulled her inside the shack and closed the door to shut out the wind and cold. His hand went into a pocket and came back out with his cigarette lighter. It was one of those butane things and he had to blow on it to dry the flint before he got it to light. In the dim illumination he saw odds and ends of power equipment and materials stowed along the sides and almost yelled in delight when he found an old-fashioned blow-torch.

  He shook it and heard the gurgle of liquid in its reservoir and put the balky lighter to use again after pumping the torch to get some pressure into it. The light it put out was fitful, but the heat was more than welcome. Working quickly, he pulled Chloe near a stack of lumber and rigged a tarp that he found on top of it into a kind of lean-to. Positioning the torch just under the edge of the tarp, but low enough to keep from starting a fire, he was pleased to find that the heat collected under the tarp pretty quickly.

  Turning to examine Chloe’s features, he found that the immersion had started the cut on her head to bleeding again and the blood welled slowly from it, streaking the side of her face before making a turn to follow gravity across her bottom lip. Her face and lips, now free of any makeup, had turned a pale shade of blue and he knew that if he didn’t get her warm soon, she would die. After the efforts she had made to keep them both alive, he felt that he owed her the effort to prevent her dying of the cold and exposure.