"I'm serious. Let me get it unloaded right now, man, and I'll leave it with you." He turned away and then turned back toward the kid. "I'll give you fifteen hundred up front, the rest... Tuesday?"
The kid was nodding. "Except, Tuesday night. Can't be when the boss is here, you see?"
"Yeah," Billy said. "I see. Tuesday night then. Give me a few minutes to empty it out."
Billy and April worked together and moved everything over into the Camaro's trunk. Billy took about a pound of the weed and gave it to the kid along with the $1500.
"What's this?" the kid asked, taking the plastic shopping bag that Billy offered.
"A present... Do right by me and my truck and there will be more," Billy promised.
The kid peeked into the bag. "Shit, Ese." He closed the bag up tight. "See you on Tuesday night, Dude... Hey, man... What color?"
"What?" Billy asked.
"You know, your truck, man. What color?" the guy smiled and laughed.
"What do you think?" Billy asked April. "Red?... Black?"
"Green... Maybe metallic," April said.
"The boss has spoken," the young guy said.
They all laughed.
"My uncle had this green Ford Pinto. Metallic. I liked that color. It was... Deep, really rich looking. Expensive. A lot of gold flake in it. I remember it because that Pinto was a cheap car and they had this paint job that looked like it should be on a Lincoln instead of the pinto," April said.
"Green metallic it is," the young guy said. "Hey, my friends call me Dougie." He extended his hand and they shook. "Okay then. See you all on Tuesday night... You're gonna like your truck."
They said their goodbyes and left.
“You thinking to really come back for that truck,” April asked.
“No... But the way things are it's there if we need it and we know it's safe too,” Billy said.
“If he don't steal it,” April said as Billy signaled and headed back for the expressway.
Billy nodded. “I don't get that from him. Yeah, I know, the kid is obviously a little under the table, but so are we... No. I think if we need it, it really will be there Tuesday night: If we don't the guy has himself a free truck.”
The Camaro felt good to Billy. He opened it up a little on the expressway for a few miles then let April drive it.
"Powerful," April agreed. She looked at her watch; 10:20 PM, the night was flying by. "We going?" she asked.
"I don't think so... It's a store in a mall, late night it would be tough to cruise by without being obvious. I say let's get a motel room and call it a night," Billy said.
"Sounds good, baby," April agreed.
Mobile Alabama
Rebecca Monet
Rebecca Monet turned over on the bed and opened one eye. She hated the little fleabag motel she was staying in. She hated Mobile. She hated being a weather girl. In fact she hated being referred to as a girl. And life was not always fair, she knew that, but she was damned if she would just wait for it to get better. She would make it happen. Life the way she wanted it to be. No sitting on her ass marking time.
The sun was up. It was early, but the early bird gets the worm. She stumbled from the bed, undressing as she went and headed for the shower.
On The Road
Pennsylvania
Brian and Liv
"Liv... Liv... Come on, Liv, you got to do this on your own. There are people watching... They'll think it's funny if I carry you... Maybe call the cops," Brian said.
"Oh God, I'm sick... I'm really fuckin' sick... Leave me the fuck alone, I mean it," Liv said.
"Liv?" he bent and pulled her upright from the car. They were in Pennsylvania. Near the Catskills. The night was not just cool it was cold: The cold air brought her awake.
"Okay, Okay... Where are we... Where are we... Fuck... Lead the way... I'm okay... Not so goddamn fast... Slow... I hate to puke," Liv said.
Brian had toed the door to the cabin open after he had unlocked it, and then edged it partially shut with his foot as he left to get her. He would get her into the bed, lock the door and set the alarm, then he'd get the stuff out of the car after he got her settled... Maybe a shower first too.
He had rented the cabin for three weeks. It was the best he could think of and he thought it was pretty smart. They would have privacy while she got better.
He asked himself a dozen times today why he was doing this, but he didn't have any solid answers. Maybe because he had no family left. Maybe because he was tired of living in Foster Care with people who didn't want him. Maybe because he had watched his mother die from this same shit. Crack had done her in instead of heroin, but it was all the same shit. Maybe it was Liv too. Maybe it was a little of both. He had never known anyone who had walked away from their life like this: Never, it was like starting over. Like getting a second chance. He had decided that, that was the main reason.
They passed one couple on the way to their cabin. He smiled politely, helping Liv along.
"A little too much to drink," he heard the woman whisper to her husband after they had passed by.
He smiled. Good. Let them think that, by the next time that they saw Liv, she would be on her own two feet. He helped her into the cabin and laid her down on the bed. She instantly curled up into a ball holding her stomach. He got her into the bathroom just in time.
Once he got her cleaned up and into the bed, it was close to midnight. He made his way back out to the car, retrieved the stuff he had bought today: Leaving her sleeping in the car; panicking the whole time that she would be gone when he got back, but she had still been there. It had been okay. He grabbed the bag of money too, and carried everything back into the cabin.
It took a few minutes to get the loose cotton pajamas on her. The room had a huge bathtub, and after he had helped her into the bath and bathed her when she couldn't stay awake to do it herself he was a lot less embarrassed. Besides, there was no one else to do it. He put antibiotic cream on her knee and bandaged it up. She drifted in and out while he did it, mostly to tell him to leave her the fuck alone, but he knew she didn't mean it. He got some vitamins in her and got her to take a couple of aspirin and drink some juice: She was out cold a few minutes later. He turned the TV on low, smoothed her hair away from her brow and found something to watch.
Mississippi
Monday morning
Billy Jingo
April sat on the edge of the bed drying her hair. Billy was still in the shower, but the water had quit running. He'd be out soon. She had the television on low, a Mobile station, early morning news program. She was mostly ignoring it. They were both still jittery about everything and hadn't made up their minds what they were going to do. Stay or go, run or follow through.
Billy came out of the shower, his hair sticking up all over the place.
"Coffee from the machine," April said and lifted her cup. Billy's eyes went to his own cup she had gotten him. He looked at her, she was still naked. She had only managed to get one sock on.
"Did you go down to the machine like that?"Billy asked.
"I threw my robe on. It only fell open one time," April said. "Go on, drink it while it's hot, even though it has this yucky cardboard taste."
"I could never walk to the coffee machine naked, with just a robe on," Billy said.
"I could," April said.
The TV broke into their conversation, silencing them:
"Bethany?" the news anchor said to his co-anchor, "Here is a story from New York. Authorities here in Alabama are looking for two missing teenagers amid some very disturbing circumstances. For more here's our own Rebecca Monet."
The room was silent, all the banter back and forth gone. Two pictures flashed up on the screen. Billy on one side, April on the other.
"Thanks, Bob. As of this morning police are still looking for 18 year old April Evans and 23 year old William Jingo. A third young teen has now been added to the missing list, 17 year old Brian Smith. A paper carrier who disappeared on his route right in
front of the home of a known drug dealer. When the cops searched that home they found the bodies of the drug dealer, Richard Dean, his girlfriend and his two young daughters. Three other bodies were found in the home, but authorities are withholding their names until next of kin are notified. There were no signs of young Brian Smith, William Jingo, or April Evans.
"This comes on the heels of a bizarre chain of events that began early Friday morning in a small northern New York town known mostly because of its proximity to Fort Drum, the largest military training base for winter exercises in the world.
"Friday started with a car chase. Two wrecked cars, one burned, three dead men and what authorities have said is a large quantity of drugs and money missing. It escalated when cops discovered that William Jingo, one of the material witnesses to the car chase, and his 18 year old girlfriend, April Evans, had both vanished. It took another serious step with the discovery of the body of 18 year old Alice chambers, murdered and dumped and in a nearby state park. Officers say they believe she was murdered by someone looking for information about the two missing teens."
April gasped and put one hand to her mouth.
"Police have also disclosed that there has been a grizzly find of body parts of another victim behind William Jingo's trailer home. Jingo and Evans are believed to be traveling in one of two vehicles. A late model Jeep Commander which is alleged to have been involved in a shootout in the city of Rochester, some one hundred and fifty miles to the West of Watertown." A stock picture of a Jeep Commander flashed on the screen as Rebecca Monet read the license number. Billy moved close to April and pulled her into his arms. She was sobbing uncontrollably.
"This vehicle," Rebecca continued, "was allegedly purchased by Ms. Evans in Rochester. The second vehicle is a late model GMC Suburban, white." She read off the license number as an image appeared on the screen. This vehicle was purchased by a Benjamin Neo." Neo's picture flashed up on the screen, along with a grainy photo of Billy as Neo from a security camera at the dealership.
"Neo was thought to have been one of those killed early Friday morning in the car crash, but now authorities are unsure whether he was killed or someone else was driving his car. Cops are waiting for blood work and DNA results, Bob, which they say could take several weeks.
"Authorities in New York have received tips that the four missing people may be heading south in one or both of the vehicles. The numbers on the bottom of screen are where you can call with information pertaining to this case that authorities are now calling organized crime related. If you see any of these four," all four pictures popped up on the screen., "don't try to apprehend them yourselves. They are considered armed and dangerous. Call one of the numbers on the screen. Bob?" She finished.
"Now, Rebecca, aren't we also hearing that the young woman is perhaps being held against her will? Possibly the young boy too,” Bob asked.
Rebecca's serious face filled the screen as she nodded. “Bob, authorities are tight lipped about the circumstances, but our sources say there is real concern that the kids may have been taken by Benjamin Neo and forced by him to drive across several states. Their concern now is that none of the three young adults have been seen in recent sightings of Neo.” She lifted one hand helplessly. “We can only hope that the events that are playing out have not taken an even more serious turn, Bob.”
“And they believe they may be heading for Mobile,” Bob asked.
Rebecca nodded. “Unnamed sources have told us that they believe they are heading south, possibly for Mobile.” The picture switched back to the studio.
“Well, Rebecca, our prayers are certainly with the families of those young kids tonight. Hopefully they'll be located soon.” He turned more squarely to the camera. “As always, when you see breaking news give us a call here at Channel Eight. The numbers are on the screen. It's a free call, even from your cell phone. Let's go to Bethany with breaking national news on that far away light in the sky, DX2379R the meteor that is still claimed by some to be on a collision course with Earth. Bethany?" Bob said.
Billy held April and she cried. It was a long time before she could talk.
Watertown
Don
Don managed to get the bedside phone on the third ring, by then it had awakened Jenny too.
"Goddamn cops," Jennie muttered as she buried her head back under the blankets.
"Yeah?" Don managed.
"Sammy," Sammy told him. "You gotta get down here, we're out of here, like, 3 hours ago... You there, Donny?" Sammy asked.
Don set up in bed which caused Jennie to complain even more. "What the fuck are you talking about, Sammy. Say it slower. My brain has no caffeine yet." He rubbed his face with one of his large hands.
"We're going to Alabama... Mobile. Several tips put the Suburban on I65 yesterday, just outside of Mobile. Nothing after that. The chief thinks they went to ground, and there are rumors of a big deal that's going to happen there with an associate of the late Richard Dean. We don't have names yet, but they're working on it. The guy is a big drug dealer in that area. We're going down on a flight out of Syracuse in 2 hours. We're going to meet with the locals, it's their ballgame, but the chief wants us to be there when the whole thing goes down. Sort of like the New York liaison," Sammy said.
"That is the stupidest thing I've ever heard," Don said. He reached for the night stand and got a cigarette. He lit it and then tossed the heavy silver Zippo back onto the table with a metallic clunk. Jenny raised her head.
"What is it?" she whispered.
"Fuck," Don said.
"Fuck ain't the half of it," Sammy agreed. "You're awake now? I'll be there in about twenty minutes, we have to hurry," Sammy finished. He clicked off before Don answered.
Don slammed the phone down. "The chief, Mr. political aspirations himself, has decided in all of his wisdom to send us to Mobile-Fucking-Alabama of all places, because some tips came in that placed the GMC on I65 yesterday and nothing since then," Don said as he worked his way out of bed and headed toward the shower.
He called from the shower. "Brilliant, over-react now to cover his ass for not reacting when he should have... Jen, could you get me out a suit of clothes?" He called as he turned on the shower. He kicked off his boxers and stepped under the spray which was still slightly cold, forgetting about the cigarette in his mouth. He caught the soggy mess in one hand and tossed it toward the toilet. It landed on the lid with a wet plop.
"Fuck," he muttered. "That's why the lid should be up."
Mobile
Jimmy West
Jimmy stared at the TV. The weatherman was on now talking about the fall weather and the start of the hurricane season.
He had been out once to dispose of Ronnie Lee. It was a large shop, but a body couldn't hang around too long without air conditioning and this place had none.
He had found a state park next to a swamp, they called them bogues here according to the sign, but they were still swamps. He had tossed the body in. There were alligators all over down here. The body wouldn't last long. He hadn't wanted to wait that long to do it, but he had been afraid to leave. As the night wore on though he became convinced that they were not coming by. Maybe he had been wrong. Maybe what he would do wasn't necessarily what a couple of green kids would do.
He wondered about the other kid. The paper boy, but he had no idea who he was or where he'd come from. And if he was honest with himself he didn't care either. The kid was one of those anomalies. A fly in the ointment. A nothing. At least to him.
It bothered him that the cops had such a lock on the two vehicles. Every red neck with eyes would be calling every time they saw a Suburban of any kind. It would be a bad couple of days for anyone who owned a white Suburban.
He wondered about Neo. He was positive that Neo was dead. Or he had been. If he was honest now there was more than a little doubt in his mind. It could have been anyone in that car. Neo could be smart enough to be behind this whole thing. He could be pulling the kids strings, both of them. And i
f that was the case he himself would have to be very careful. Getting shot in the back of the head in a car chase was one thing. Facing Ben Neo in a one on one situation was not something he wanted to do. His phone rang. His own cell phone, and he knew who it was before he answered it.
"Jimmy," Tommy's voice rasped. "I got a fuckin' cold so bear with me... And now I'm getting a fuckin' headache. I hear from my sources that Ben Neo might still be alive. My own, turned against me... You heard that shit, Jimmy?" Tommy asked.
"I just heard it," Jimmy acknowledged.
"You think these cops are jerking our chains? You hear they're talking organized crime ties? This is getting out of control, Jimmy. Out of control... I need the truth, Jimmy. If it is Neo, can you handle him?... Can you handle him? I need to know that, Jimmy: If this fucker has turned on me... Like... Like some fuckin' dog that don't know his master... Like that, Jimmy, I need to know that you can fix that, Jimmy... A thing like that has got to be fixed, and I need you to tell me that you can fix it," Tommy said.
"I'll get him," Jimmy said. "I'll be honest, Neo is no joke, but you know I'm not either. I'll get him," Jimmy said.
"Or else?" Tommy asked.
"Or else, he'll have to fuckin' kill me... I know my job. You know where my loyalties are, Tommy. He'll have to kill me, but he won't. He won't because he has nothing on me at all. I know him. I know how he operates. His methods. He's a dead man, Tommy. He just don't know it yet. When I get him, believe me, he'll wish he did die in that car with the top of his head blown off," Jimmy said.
"I don't ever doubt you, Jimmy. I don't. Get this done for me. Make it all work out and I'll take care of you. You know that," Tommy said.
"I know that," Jimmy said.
"You need something, you call these people. They're right there. They'll help," Tommy said. He rattled off two local phone numbers.
"Okay," Jimmy said. He clicked off, tore off the square of paper with the two numbers on it from the pad. Folded it, and slipped it into his pocket. He wandered over to a long display of acoustic guitars, took one down and strummed the open strings. He had never learned. He couldn't figure out how anyone could learn, it was killer on your fingers. He hung the guitar back up, walked back to the stool where he had been sitting and sat back down. There was nothing he could do but wait.
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