~~~~~
Shauna’s sobbing ebbed with Bernie’s familiar voice echoing inside her head. She drew her face away from Nick and looked over at the St. Bernard that sat tucked securely in the Harley sidecar. He looked straight ahead, seeming to quite enjoy the middle of the night ride in the breeze, oblivious to any threats. Shauna envied his apparent lack of concern. He seemed to enjoy the stiff breeze without having to hang his head outside of a car window. Shauna kept looking at the dog and was able to muster a new sense of calm and confidence. She didn’t know what this madman behind them saw in the dog, but she definitely understood the attraction.
“Make a hard right up ahead, son,” Nick heard in his head and immediately recognized it as Bernie.
“Good to hear your voice,” Nick said, drowned out by the engine noise. Nick arched the bike to the left and brought it back to the right in an attempt to make the sharp turn without losing too much speed. The sidecar’s wheel lifted and momentarily lost contact with the pavement, causing Nick to readjust his steering to compensate for the loss of control.
“Oh, shit!” Shauna said as Nick fought with the bike. Once he regained control, she tightened her arms around Nick’s waist as he inhaled. Nick gasped for air and readjusted his breathing pattern to shorter breaths with Shauna’s tighter grip, which he totally understood after that last corner.
Nick glanced in his side mirror and watched the Nissan fishtail around the corner and end up skidding perpendicular down the street before righting the vehicle. A little reckless, Nick hypocritically thought to himself. However, the driver regained control just as quickly as Nick had. The driver was skilled, and Nick was an average motorcycle rider at best. He realized that this man would certainly overtake them at some point if they didn’t come up with a plan, fast.
“I gotcha, son. Take the next left into the Wal-Mart parking lot and head around back behind them buildings. I think we’ll jam this ole’ boy up. Got some tight spaces back there, if you know what I mean.”
Nick had no idea what the voice meant, but at this point he was open to any suggestions, and Bernie seemed fairly insightful. One day I’ll have to write a book about heroic talking pooches, corrupt cops, parents on the lam, and a hot chick he thought to himself. It’s sure to be a best-seller. You just can’t make up this shit.
Nick tore into the Wal-Mart parking lot and angled the bike back toward stacks of pallets, fork lifts, and God knows what else, precariously laying in the shadows. The Nissan closed considerable ground in the straight away before turning into the supercenter back alley. Close sirens somewhat assuaged Nick’s fear of getting overtaken by the Nissan as he navigated Shauna’s bike through tight quarters at the same speed.
Nick felt Shauna press tighter against him as his mind shifted to the pleasurable feeling of her boobs getting crushed against his back. Even in the face of death and serious bodily dismemberment he reveled in the fact that he could still revert to sexual thoughts. Maybe in the face of impending doom, men feel the increased need to fornicate and continue their genes.
“Keep your jeans on for now, son. There’ll be time for that later. I need you to punch it and shoot through that space up ahead alongside the retaining wall.”
Nick looked ahead and thought of the biblical verse about something or other being harder to do than thread a camel through the eye of a needle. That was how he saw the challenge that lay before him, at least at this distance. Nevertheless, he cranked the throttle back and rocked back in the seat as the machine lurched forward at increasing speed.
Once again Shauna expressed her undying confidence in Nick’s motorcycle driving abilities by exclaiming, “Oh, shit!” Her head ducked into the middle of Nick’s shoulder blades as the wind raced around their bodies like a hurricane pounding a lone palm tree standing bravely on the coast.
Nick didn’t know if it was better to get closer to the immovable retaining wall on his left or the hardly moveable tractor trailer on the right. This was a cool bike, but right about now the sidecar seemed highly impractical. What was Shauna thinking? Nick steered to a point that lay past the obstacles and closed his eyes for the last couple of seconds, figuring if he made impact, he’d rather just feel it than see it, too.
The driver side mirror exploded as it collided with the edge of the tractor trailer. The impact did not alter Nick’s ability to steer through the objects. The closeness of the retaining wall and the tractor trailer created a wind tunnel effect that reverberated inside their ears. Within a few seconds, they were at the end of the long truck and back into what seemed like wide open expanse. Nick kept the throttle back and raced to the far north end of the building.
Gionelli knew in his heart that there was plenty of space to drive the Nissan through. He was used to full size sedans, Chevrolet Suburbans, and an array of large armored vehicles. This car would easily fit, and soon he’d overtake the bike, preferably causing a fatal accident and severing many of the numerous loose strings left dangling.
However, the sparks that cascaded down his windshield was the first indicator that he misjudged his vehicle’s size and the girth of the opening. It looked like a Fourth of July fireworks display from behind the steering wheel. The exploding tires that dragged along the stone retaining wall provided the independence day booms as they erupted. Strips of rubber slapped against the car’s body and flew into the air, raining down steel belted radial fragments. Alongside the tractor trailer, the pressure against the driver side windows forced them to shatter inwards.
The impact instantaneously deployed the front and side airbags, which immobilized Gionelli in his seat and also protected him from the bulk of the flying glass and debris. The pressure on both sides of the Nissan squeezed it into a rapid deceleration until it came to rest two thirds of the way down the side of the semi-truck. The impact of the side and front airbags knocked Gionelli partially into the middle console. He felt a twinge of pain light up in his lower back as he choked from the chemicals that misted around his nostrils from the airbag deployment. He had no idea where the car stopped or if the motorcycle made it through. He did know that he was screwed.
Nick took the motorcycle to the far end of the building and brought it to a stop. He didn’t think the Nissan could fit through the gap, and he was right. The car sat motionless, crushed in on both sides between the thirty-foot retaining wall and the big rig. It reminded him of a smashed aluminum Coors Light beer can, with its silver paint job. He looked for signs of life inside the car, but couldn’t make anything out through the airbags.
Shauna took her head out of Nick’s Shoulder blades and looked back at the wreckage. “What do we do now?” she inquired, knowing full well Nick probably had about as many answers as she did. An approaching police siren sliced through the cool night air and gave them both a moment to catch their breath and feel some impending relief.
“As much as I’d like to see that bastard suffer, I think it’s best if we leave the scene. Do you agree?”
“I couldn’t agree more.”
“Ya’ll got the right idea for sure,” said the voice. “Just drop me off round front by that black Mercedes, if you would, please.”
Nick and Shauna looked at each other.
“Did you hear…,” they both began.
Nick and Shauna turned to Bernie who sat in the sidecar staring at them. He gave a loud bark and turned his head forward. Nick and Shauna returned the stare back to each other.
Shauna shrugged and said, “He hasn’t been wrong yet, has he?”
Nick shook his head and said, “No, he has not.” As he turned the bike toward the Wal-Mart parking lot, the police siren was upon them and he could hear Schwartz’s voice screaming over the noise. “No, he has not, and I think our work here is done,” Nick reiterated.
As Nick pulled away with Shauna and Bernie safe and sound, Schwartz continued assessing the situation that lay before him. He had no idea if Gionelli sustained any serious
injuries, and at this point, he really didn’t care. He knew that the only way to reach him would be through the rear window. Fortunately, the compression of the vehicle blew that window out, too, making for easier access into the car. The only glass left intact was a spidered windshield.
Schwartz approached the car with his weapon drawn and ordered Gionelli to show him his hands. Gionelli considered his options and decided only compliance existed. Gionelli lifted his arms and waited for further direction.
Schwartz commanded Gionelli to slowly reach down and remove his seat belt, which he did. Schwartz directed him to climb over into the back seat, which Gionelli protested.
“Hell no! I’m not doing that. My back’s hurt, and I’m cutting myself up on this glass. You’ll just have to wait for Fire and Rescue to get me out of here.”
“They won’t do a damn thing when I tell them you just shot a U.S. Marshal, and you’re still armed and dangerous. They’re not doing anything until the scene’s safe, and you know it.”
Gionelli considered the argument and knew what he said to be true. But he needed to buy himself some time. He knew if he could garner a few more minutes, he could game plan his way out of this or work his way into a better scenario.
Whiteside was the first to smell it. He was the farthest away, but he was the one with least amount of tunnel vision. Schwartz was tuned in entirely on Gionelli and rightly so. Gionelli proved himself a deadly threat to anyone who stood in his way. Fuel seeped out of a ruptured gas line and splattered on the asphalt. The rental car remained powered and sparks still flew from the vehicle’s malfunctioning electronics and battery.
Whiteside backed away and started distancing himself from the scene. His original thoughts of self-perseverance coincided with the realization that if Gionelli didn’t want to extricate himself from the car, Whiteside was more than willing to extricate himself from the scene. Schwartz continued with his commands, while Gionelli resisted every step of the way. Whiteside approached the far south corner of the building when he saw the initial flames through the fractured windshield. He froze just a few feet past the corner of the building. He saw his car sitting in its parking stall and looked back at the burning Nissan. At the thought of burning alive, Gionnelli apparently changed his mind and climbed over the front seat. However, his efforts were labored and progress was slow.
Whiteside decided it was time to go and sprinted to his vehicle. As he reached his Mercedes, Nick, Shauna, and Bernie rolled up on the motorcycle. Nick stopped the bike several parking spots away, not sure what to make of this incredibly tall albino. Was he a good guy or a bad guy? Was he a bad guy turned good guy? Or was he just another guy, caught up in this ridiculous web of circumstances? Neither Nick nor Shauna possessed any certainty about this man’s true character.
“Let’s just chalk it up to he’s a guy, and I’ve got some work to do with this ‘ole boy,” the voice stated. “You two are a done deal, partner. Now it’s this tall drink of water’s turn to find something special.”
Bernie jumped out of the sidecar and ran up to the Mercedes and began pawing at the rear driver side door. Whiteside fished the key fob out his pocket. The car chirped twice, and the doors unlocked. Whiteside opened the back door, and Bernie jumped in.
“I did what he said,” Whiteside tried to explain. “I didn’t hurt anybody. Please tell Schwartz I’ll get rid of the microchip, and nobody will ever see it again. I’ll send him a message to confirm its permanent disposal. I just need the dog, and I have to leave now. I can’t explain it. It wouldn’t make sense.”
“Actually, you don’t need to explain,” Nick said. “It’s already been explained to us.” Nick reached down and squeezed Shauna’s hand that was wrapped around his waist.
“Goodbye, Bernie,” Shauna said. “We’ll miss you.”
“I know I’ll definitely miss you,” Nick added. “But I’ve never had much longevity with pets, so I guess this is par for the course. So long, Bernie.”
“You know, fellas, I’ve always been a little more fond of Cupid than any of those dern silly names people gave me. Ya’ll just consider yourselves shot in the ass with the arrows of love.” Bernie woofed at Whiteside and jumped on the driver seat’s head rest. “What are you waiting for, son? Fire this fine machine up, and let’s hit the bricks.”
With those words floating through his head, Whiteside jumped into the Mercedes, cranked the engine to life, and pulled out of the parking space.
He leaned out the window and shouted, “Your parents are at the baseball fields and are unharmed. I did what he said.” Whiteside threw the car into drive. The tires chirped as the Mercedes rocketed toward the exit and onto the road. The engine roared again as it accelerated over Courtman’s Hill by the last family run pharmacy in Pine Valley, eventually out of sight and out of their lives.
The sounds of approaching sirens wailed. Nick could see emergency responders from the Pine Valley Police Department, multiple ambulances, and fire trucks all racing to the baseball fields. A lone police car passed Whiteside’s Mercedes and turned into the Wal-Mart parking lot. As odd as it felt, Nick felt relief to seeing Bernie and Whiteside escape without the hassle of explaining why it necessary for a former protected federal witness turned government clandestine operative to proceed with a clairvoyant, speaking St. Bernard. No, it was better they just drive into the moonless horizon.
Regardless of the oncoming responders, Nick and Shauna’s eyes remained captivated with the black car, knowing that this strange man took away something they would never be able to fully explain or understand. But that was Bernie’s wish, and they had to respect that, even if it still seemed more than a little weird to bow down to a canine’s opinion and advice. Nick wiped a tear from the corner of his eye as Shauna rubbed his shoulder with one hand while her other hand took care of her own ocular waterworks.
“So, do you have any other dogs looking for homes at the shelter?” Nick asked. “I mean, I know there are dogs there, but is there one that you think will work well for me?”
“Well, maybe there’s one that would be a fit.”
“It’s not Raphael is it? Bernie kind of warned me about him.”
“Oh, God no. That dog’s nuts!”
“Yeah. That’s what I was told. I’d love to get out of here and see how the old folks are doing, but I’m sure Johnny law is going to have a different plan for us.”
Nick shut the bike’s engine off and stepped off the seat, helping Shauna do the same. The Pine Valley police officer pulled up alongside them. Nick thought he looked about as old as some of the local high school kids who try and buy beer in the Slippery Beaver with outrageously weak fake ID’s. He looked like he was half scared shitless and amped up on coffee, Red Bull, and energy bars. He lowered his window and stared wide-eyed at them both, saying nothing, but chewing gum with a ferocity that made Nick’s own jaw ache.
Taking the initiative, Nick spoke first. “There are two U.S. Marshals behind the building and a wrecked car. The big guy’s on the up and up, but the other one just shot the big guy’s partner up at the fields,” Nick said, pointing to the diamonds.
The baby-faced cop’s eyes tracked between Nick and Shauna without blinking. Nick could almost swear that they got even wider with each gum chomp.
“Right,” he answered, as if this information was remotely enough to make any kind of an informed decision. “You folks stay put, and I’ll check it out.” He pulled forward and slowly made his way to the corner of the building.
“Staying put,” Nick muttered under his breath. “I didn’t know they hired high school seniors as patrolman nowadays.”
“He did look awfully young,” Shauna agreed. “I guess you gotta start sometime.”
“Yeah, that, or I’m just getting old.”
“Speak for yourself, pops!” Nick smiled at Shauna’s verbal jab.
“I don’t think I’m that much older, sweetheart. A
s a matter of fact, I…”
The explosion from the rear of the building interrupted Nick’s words and made him nearly jump out of his skin. Shauna let out a scream and clamped down on Nick’s arm. Flames shot up in the night sky from the single explosion, and black smoke curled up over the roof of the store. The police car sat on the corner of the building, driver’s side door open. Nick and Shauna squinted against the intense heat, but saw no rookie cop or U.S. Marshals.
The Bernie Factor Page 46