Remote control, p.26
Remote Control, page 26
Luther was getting his first rounds down on me. His door was half open and he was starting to roll out. I’d have been doing the same because a car draws fire – so get out of the way. As he rolled I kept on firing, just below the level of the door. He screamed. I’d got him. I couldn’t tell whether it was a direct hit or the splash of the round off the tarmac, but it didn’t matter, the effect was the same.
I moved from behind the bonnet of my car to take on the third guy. He was out now but had had a change of heart. He put his hands up and yelled, ‘Don’t do it, don’t do it!’ His eyes were like saucers. I double-tapped him in the head.
Kelly was still curled up in a ball in the footwell. She wasn’t going anywhere.
I searched the two bodies for wallets and magazines. I left Luther for last.
He was on the ground behind his car, hands clutched to his chest. ‘Help me … help me … please …’
He’d taken a round in the armpit as he rolled on the floor and it must have carried on into his chest cavity. I thought of Kev, Marsha and Aida, and kicked. He opened his mouth to scream, but all that came out was a gurgle. He was on his way out. Good. Let it happen slowly.
I ran back for Kelly and lifted her out of her hiding place. I had to shout at her above her screams. ‘It’s OK, Kelly. I’m here, it’s OK.’
I held her tight in my arms. She was nearly deafening me.
‘It’s all over now! It’s OK!’
It wasn’t.
The police would be here soon. I looked around me. The junction was with a trunk road, two lanes in each direction. To my left and downhill was the I-95, crossing the road by a bridge, with a Texaco gas station about 400 metres away on the other side of it on the right. Uphill and about the same distance away was a Best Western hotel cutting the skyline.
Lights were coming from the exit road towards us. Luther was lying there softly moaning to himself. He wasn’t dead, but it wouldn’t be long. The lights came closer.
Kelly was still hysterical. Grabbing her to conceal my pistol, I went behind the two cars. The lights were nearly level with us. I moved out and waved the vehicle down.
The good Samaritans were in a Toyota Previa, man and wife in the front, two kids in the back. I played the traumatized victim for all I was worth, shouting, ‘Help! Help!’ as I rushed to the driver’s side. The woman was at the wheel; she opened her door. ‘Oh my gosh, oh my gosh!’ Her husband already had his mobile out for an ambulance.
I put the safety catch on and held the gun against her face. ‘Everybody out now! Get out, get out now!’ My other arm was windmilling like a madman’s. Hopefully they’d think I was one. ‘Get out! I’ll fucking kill you! Get out!’
The one thing I did know about families is that no-one will risk theirs. The husband started to lose it. ‘Please don’t,’ he whimpered, ‘please don’t!’ Then he started to cry.
Kelly had quietened down, listening to my act.
It was the mother who kept her cool. ‘OK, we are getting out. Dean, get the kids out. Out!’
Dean got his act together. I yelled at him, ‘Throw your wallet back inside!’
I bundled Kelly through the sliding door, slammed it shut, ran round to the driver’s side, climbed up and we were off.
I wanted to get away from the initial danger area, then sort myself out. The freeway was out because it would be too easy for the police to pick me up. I drove up onto the junction and turned left under the freeway bridge, past the garage. The road became a normal two-lane carriageway and I put my foot down.
This was no time to explain stuff to Kelly. She was curled up on the back seat, sobbing. My adrenalin rush was slowing down, but my face was soaked with sweat and I was lathering up. I took deep breaths, trying to get more oxygen into my body and calm everything down. I felt unbelievably angry with myself for losing control back there. I should have killed Luther straight away, not fucked about.
I realized we were heading south, away from the airport. I’d have to stop and sort myself out instead of just running in a blind panic. I pulled over and checked the map book. Kelly didn’t look good, but I didn’t have too much of a clue what to say to comfort her. ‘I told you I was going to look after you,’ I tried. ‘Are you OK?’
She looked up at me and nodded, her bottom lip quivering.
I made a decision. Fuck it, let’s just go straight to the hotel, get the back-up disk and clear off. I swung the Previa around in a U-turn, heading for the freeway. We stayed on it until we hit the Beltway.
Blue lights flickered towards us. There must have been ten of them. I wasn’t worried. Even if they did ID me they’d have to get across the central reservation.
It took us just under an hour to get to the Economy Inn. We drove straight into the car park and I told Kelly to wait where she was. If she did hear me, there was no reaction. I tried again and got a nod.
I went upstairs, got out my pistol and made entry. I pulled the cabinet onto its side, the TV crashing onto the floor, and ripped the disk away from the tape. If Luther and co were connected with PIRA, they must know I had a disk – they had to assume it anyway. Retrieving the black bag, I went into the bathroom and threw two hand towels into the bath and ran the water. While that was happening I got the plastic laundry bag from the drawer. I put in the wet towels and some soap. I walked out of the room and kept the Do Not Disturb sign on the handle.
Kelly was still curled up on the back seat. We drove straight down the road to the Marriott.
30
I PARKED UP alongside a line of cars and pick-up trucks and moved round to the back to dig out the towels. The moment I opened the door Kelly ambushed me, throwing her arms around my neck and clinging on hard. Her whole body was shaking.
I lifted her head off my shoulder. Blood from the boy I’d head-jobbed had gone over my jacket, and now some of it was on her face, too, mixing with her tears. I whispered in her ear, ‘It’s OK now, Kelly, really it is. It’s all over.’
She held on even harder. Her tears were warm and wet on my neck.
I said, ‘I’ve got to go and get another car, so I want you to stay here. I won’t be long.’
I started to lift her away from me to put her back on the seat, but she resisted, burying her face in my shoulder. I could feel the heat of her breath through the material of my jacket.
I put my hand on the back of her head and rocked gently. For a moment I didn’t know who was clinging to whom. The idea of what was happening and who might be behind it scared me shitless. I had to confirm with Kelly what Luther had said, and now was as bad a time as any. ‘Kelly, do you know Luther? Was it true what he said about him coming to pick up Daddy?’
I felt her head nod slowly against my shoulder.
‘I’ll never leave you alone again, Kelly. Let’s just clean ourselves up a bit, shall we?’
I tried to sound happy as I used one of the wet hand towels to wipe her face. ‘If you’re going to come with me I’d better give you a really important job. I want you to look after the bag while I go and get a car, OK?’
‘OK.’
As she dried herself I checked the wallets. Just over two hundred dollars in all.
The car park surrounded the whole hotel and was lit only by borrowed light from the street. The area dividers that made it easier for people to find their cars were waist-high bushes and shrubs, with small trees around the main perimeter. There was plenty of shadow.
I positioned Kelly in a clump of shrubbery with the bag. ‘Stay hiding until I stop the car and get out to fetch the bag, OK?’
‘Will I be able to see you?’ she whispered as she put up her hood. Her coat was already wet from the leaves. ‘I want to see you.’
I had my eye on a family Dodge in the long lines of cars. I said, ‘See that big blue car over there? That’s the one I’m going to pick up.’ I didn’t actually want to tell her I was going to steal it, which seemed mad after what had just happened.
It took about five minutes to break in, but the vehicle started first time. I put the windscreen wipers and demister on full, wiping the inside of the screen with my sleeve. I reversed back to the bushes, stopped and got out. She climbed into the front with a big smile and we started driving off. I stopped. ‘Seat belt!’
She put it on.
We headed south on I-95. About twenty miles before the Lorton exit we came across temporary traffic signs warning us that the junction was closed off. As we crossed the bridge I looked down to my right and got a bird’s eye view of the shooting. Police cars were dotted all over the area, red and blue lights flashing. I didn’t slow down with the rest of the traffic to take a closer look.
The fuel gauge showed three-quarters full, so we’d be able to gain a decent distance before refuelling. I turned on the radio, surfing the channels to find some news.
There was quite a lot of traffic, which was good because it made us just one of many, but the highway itself was mesmerizingly boring. The only variant was that sometimes it was two lanes, then three, then back to two. At least it had stopped raining.
After a hundred miles or so I was knackered and my eyes were starting to sting. I stopped for fuel just over the Virginia/North Carolina border and carried on south. Kelly was asleep in the back.
By 1 a.m. we had travelled about one hundred and seventy miles, but at least the speed limit was higher, up from 60 m.p.h. to 70. I kept seeing large billboards featuring a cartoon of a Mexican, advertising a place called South of the Border. That would be our next stop – in 200 miles’ time.
We crossed the South Carolina border at about five a.m. South of the Border was just a mile or two further down the road and turned out to be a mixture of a service area and funfair. It was probably a great hit with families going to and from the beaches of North and South Carolina, covering a huge area and including beachwear shops, grocery stores, drugstores, even a bar with dancing. It looked as if it was still open, going by the number of cars parked outside.
I started to refuel. The weather was only a little bit warmer than in DC, but I could hear crickets; I definitely knew I was going south. I was still standing there watching the numbers spin on the pump when a brand-new four-wheel-drive Cherokee rolled onto the forecourt. Rap music blasted out as the doors opened. Inside were four white kids of college age, two boys and two girls.
Kelly had already been woken by the strong white light under the filling station’s canopy and now took an interest in the mobile disco. I motioned with my hand through the window to ask her if she wanted a drink. She nodded, rubbing her eyes.
I went inside, picked up some drinks and sandwiches, and went up to the pay desk. The cashier, a black guy in his late fifties, started totalling up my stuff.
The two girls came in, followed by one of the boys. Both girls had dyed-blond, shoulder-length hair. The lad was skinny, spotty, and had a bum-fluff goatee beard.
The cashier winked and said quietly, ‘Love is blind.’ I smiled in agreement.
The girls were talking to each other and their noise was louder than the music system’s. Maybe they’d blown their eardrums. I looked outside at the other boy filling up. All were in the same uniform: baggy T-shirts and shorts. They looked as if they’d been to the beach. You could tell they had money, Daddy’s money.
They lined up behind me. One of the girls was going to pay. ‘That was a most totally cool day,’ she shouted. I was meeting a real-life member of the cast of Clueless. By the sound of the conversation, their parents were total arseholes who never gave them enough money, even though they were loaded and could easily afford it.
The black guy gave me my change and leaned over to me. ‘Maybe getting a job would help!’ His eyes twinkled.
I smiled back and started to pick up my stuff from the counter. The girl came level with me to pay and opened up her purse. Clueless Two, still behind me with the boy, was pissed off with the cashier’s comment and with me for agreeing. ‘Look at that face, guys!’ she stage-whispered behind my back. ‘What’s bitten you, mister?’ The lad guffawed.
Daddy was very generous by the look of it, no matter what she said. I saw a wad of cash and enough cards for a bridge tournament. The others behind me were holding the beers they’d got from the fridge and giggling. I left.
Our vehicles were facing each other on the forecourt. Sitting in the front of the Cherokee was the fourth member of the group, who’d finished filling up and was now air-drumming along to whatever the shit was on the CD.
Kelly was lying on the back seat. I went over to her window, hiding just below it, then tapped. Kelly sat up, startled, and I held up her Coke.
The other three were now coming out of the shop. Clueless Two was still pissed off. As they got in their car I heard one of the girls shriek, ‘Fucking asshole.’ ‘Is that the black asshole or the white asshole?’ her friend replied, and they closed the doors to gales of laughter.
I got into the Dodge and drove over to the air point. The story was now being told to the driver and I could see them all getting worked up about it. The boys had to show how hard they were and the girls didn’t like being shown up in front of their beaus. There was a lot of chemistry driving out of the garage.
As the Cherokee rolled off the forecourt it caught me in its headlights, chatting away with Kelly as I checked the tyres. They slowed right down and looked at us. Clueless One must have made a funny about my appearance, because they all laughed and the driver gave me the finger to make himself look good and then zoomed off into the night.
I gave it about a minute, backed out and followed.
I didn’t want to do it on the highway unless I had to. Sooner or later, I guessed, they’d turn off the main drag so they could drink those beers out of sight of highway cops and maybe spread a couple of blankets on the ground.
After just 5 miles we followed the big jeep onto a potholed tarmac road that seemed to go through the middle of nowhere.
‘Kelly, see that car ahead? I have to stop and ask them something. I want you to stay in the car, OK?’
‘OK.’ She was more interested in the Coke.
I didn’t want to force them off the road or anything drastic. It had to look natural in case another car drove past.
We passed a roadside shop that was closed, then a large truck park, then a trailer-home site and a big stretch of dark nothingness, then an isolated house. I was beginning to think I’d fucked up when at last it happened. I saw a stop sign 400 yards ahead; accelerating, I got a bit closer and checked for other car lights.
I drove up level on their left-hand side. Bipping my horn, I waved at them with the map book and gave a big smile. They all looked over and, as I turned the interior light on, they saw first me, then Kelly in the back half asleep. They looked worried, then obviously recognized me as the white asshole. Funnies were exchanged and their beer cans came back up to their mouths from their hiding places.
I got out. The crickets were louder out here than at the filling station. I kept looking at them, smiling. The map book was for Washington, DC, but they weren’t to know that, and by the time they did it would be too late.
The driver was making a comment to the rest, probably joking about driving off as soon as I got to the door.
I said, ‘Hiya! Can you help me? I’m trying to get to Raleigh,’ which was a place I’d seen signposted on the freeway, way back in North Carolina.
As the electric window rolled down further I could hear whispered giggles from the back seat for the driver to fuck me off. I could see he had other ideas, maybe to send me anywhere but Raleigh. ‘Sure, man, I’ll show you.’
I put the map book through the open window and into his hands. ‘I don’t know how I got lost. I must have taken the wrong turning after I got some gas.’
He didn’t need the map book. He started to give directions, pointing down the road. ‘Hey, man, just turn left and go for about twenty miles until you see …’ The girls were liking this one, working hard to stifle their sniggers.
I got hold of his head with my left hand, pulled my pistol up, and stuck it into the young flesh of his cheek.
‘Oh shit, he’s got a gun, he’s got a gun!’
The other three fell silent, but the driver’s mouth went into freewheel. ‘I’m sorry, man, it was a joke, just a joke. We’re drunk, man. It’s the bitch in the back who started it, I’ve got nothing against you, man.’
I couldn’t even be bothered to answer him. I shouted into the back, ‘Throw your purses out! Now!’
My American accent was quite good, I thought. I just hoped I was looking scary enough. The girls passed over their handbags. By now the driver was trembling and quiet tears rolled down his cheeks. The girls cuddled each other.
I looked at the front passenger. ‘You.’
He looked at me as if he was one of a hundred I could be talking to. ‘Yes, you. Give me your money, out of this window.’ It took all of two seconds for him to comply.
Now it was the driver’s turn, and he beat his pal’s record. I reached in, took the keys and put them in my pocket. He didn’t look too clever now. I had another look around for lights. All clear. The pistol was still against his skin. I said quietly into his ear, ‘I’m going to kill you now.’
Everyone else heard it and wanted nothing to do with him. I said, ‘Say whatever prayer you need to say and be quick.’
He didn’t pray, he begged. ‘Please don’t kill me, man, please don’t.’
I looked down and saw that his shorts, made of grey sweatshirt material, were rather darker now. Daddy would not be impressed with the stains on his nice beige leather.
I was quite enjoying it, but knew I had to get going. I stepped back and picked everything off the road. I glanced at Clueless Two. She looked like she’d swallowed a wasp. ‘What’s bitten you?’ I said.
I got in the car, did a 180, and drove off.
Kelly said, ‘Why did you make those people give you their things?’ She sounded confused.
