Wisdom Spring, page 8
“I don’t.”
She told me more about her life. The trips she took with her parents, some of the funny experiences, and holidays in her house. I enjoyed the stories, but more importantly, I was listening to the happiness in her voice, and was hoping she could savor it for a while and forget about the reality that we were living with.
Finally, at about three in the morning, we stopped at a nice but forgettable hotel outside of Provo and checked in. Since it would be harder to sneak her in that time of night, we went with the handicapped charade.
Once we made it to the room and got into bed, as tired as we were, we made love slowly and passionately, holding onto the stories Jess had told of the love between her parents. Maybe we hoped that the love that was growing between us would someday manifest in the same way.
If we weren’t dead.
Chapter 10
Things began to unravel the next morning. And yet, thanks to Jess—or The Voice—I had made some decisions the night before that probably saved our lives.
The day started out like a cliché—dark and stormy. We slept in, having arrived so late at night, and didn’t get up until almost ten. After a quick shower, I offered to run out for some bagels and coffee. Jess was going to take her shower while I was gone.
I returned in less than half an hour, only to find Jess standing in the back lot where we had parked the night before. Her hair was still wet and hanging off her head in strands. That wasn’t a good sign. The couple of bags we had brought in with us were next to her. She frantically waved as she saw me, so I pulled up in front of her.
“We’ve gotta go,” she said, panic in her voice. I opened the trunk and ran around to the rear to help her throw everything in. I heard sirens in the distance.
“What happened?” I asked, as we got in. I slammed the car in Drive, turned it around, and headed out the way I came in.
“I was recognized.” Jess was having trouble breathing.
“Give it a minute. Take your time,” I said. The highway was only a quarter of a mile down the road. As we approached the entrance ramp, the sirens were right on top of us. From all directions, police cars converged on the hotel. Jess had ducked down the minute she got in the car, just in case. As I got on the highway, I looked over to my right at the hotel and counted at least seven police cars.
“That was way too close,” I said. “I think you can get up now. No, wait.” A State Police cruiser blew past us on the other side of the highway with its siren blaring. It got off the exit. “I think it’s okay now.”
Jess raised her head tentatively and slowly got into her seat. She was visibly shaking.
“I came out of the bathroom in my towel after my shower and found the housekeeper had just come in the room. She must have knocked while I was in the shower and came in when she didn’t get a response. She quickly apologized, but then I could tell something was wrong. She looked over at the wheelchair with a puzzled expression, then back at me. Her eyes opened wide and I knew immediately that she recognized me. She kept apologizing while she backed out of the room. She looked terrified. I heard her run down the hall, so I threw some clothes on, zipped up our bags, and got out of there.”
“Well, we may have just made it.”
“And now I know why you checked us in the way you did last night.”
“Thanks to you.”
*****
When we arrived at the hotel the night before, I looked at Jess and could tell something was troubling her.
“I’m getting that chatter in my head again,” she said.
“Is it telling you not to stay here?”
“No, I don’t think so. But I think we have to be extra careful for some reason.”
So before I got out of the car, I put on a University of Nevada baseball cap I had picked up at a drugstore in Las Vegas, pulling it down on my forehead, and slipped some cash into my shoe. I put Jess in the wheelchair, with her hat and blanket, and told her to moan a little bit, and as time went on, to start moving around and crying out. We got to the front desk and, as I hoped, only one person was on duty, a young guy.
“How much for a double?” I asked, being sure to keep my head down so as not to provide a good angle for any cameras they might have.
“Uh, eighty-nine dollars,” he answered, all the while sneaking glances at Jess, who was putting on a great performance of someone who had been up way too long, wanted to go to bed, but couldn’t really communicate it. The more uncomfortable he got, the better for us.
“I hope you can help me,” I said. “I’m really stuck. I’ve lost my wallet—I think I left it in the hotel we stayed in in Las Vegas last night. My credit cards were in it.”
He was eying me suspiciously, while at the same time obviously bothered by Jess’s performance.
“I have cash,” I said quickly. “I have some hidden in my shoe—boy, I’m so glad I did that. I thought I was putting it there in case I got mugged. I never thought I’d lose my wallet.” I looked down at Jess, who had started moving around and whimpering. “It’s okay Denise, I’ll get you into bed soon. I promise.”
I turned back to the clerk. “Look, I can give you a deposit. I have $300 here, and I’ll write down address and license information. I’ve really got to get my sister into a bed… “ I leaned forward in a conspiratorial way and whispered, “and a bathroom. Oh, it’s such an ordeal getting her taken care of in there.”
“Well,” he started. I swear he was actually sweating. “We’re not supposed to without some form of ID…” On cue, Jess let out a howl.
“I don’t want you to break any rules,” I said, “but things are getting a little desperate here. Please?”
He folded, as I knew he would.
“Okay, I guess I can break the rules just this one time, but it’s my ass…” he looked down at Jess and turned pink, “uh, my job on the line, so I’m asking that you take care of the room.” He handed me a registration form, which I filled out with completely bogus information. According to the form, my name was Herbert Field, and I now lived in Hannibal, Missouri, with a Missouri license plate on my 2003 red Chevy Impala. I took my shoe off, reached in and pulled out three $100 bills folded together. I dropped them on the counter like that and said, “I’m sorry if they’re a little sweaty.”
That did it for the clerk. He touched the corners to make sure they were hundreds, then swept them into the drawer with as little skin to money contact as possible. Meanwhile, Jess was making all sorts of weird noises and was thrashing about in the chair. He swiped the key card to activate it.
“Down the hall and to the left,” he said, holding out the key card.
“Thank you so much,” I said, grabbing his hand in thanks.
As we started down the hall, I could see him making a beeline for the bathroom to wash his hands.
*****
Now we were heading north on I-15, hoping to get far away from the hotel as quickly as possible.
“I was just hoping he wouldn’t ask me for my car registration as a form of ID,” I said. “That would have taken some fast talking. Poor guy. He didn’t know what hit him.”
“Take this exit, now!” shouted Jess.
I acted just in time, almost missing the off ramp.
“So, what was that?” I asked.
“Somebody yelling in my ear,” she answered.
“Did it … he … say which way?”
“No.”
“I think we’re on 189. I’ll just stay on that and see where it leads us.”
We reached a high point on the highway and I happened to look back from where we had come. I quickly pulled over. “Look at that,” I said.
Interstate 15 was a sea of flashing lights, and traffic was completely stopped in the northbound lane.
“What do you think?” asked Jess.
“They might have set up a quick roadblock hoping to catch us before we had time to reach Salt Lake City, or they’ve pulled over someone in a red Chevy Impala. Either way, we would have been screwed stuck in traffic like that. I’ll tell you, The Voice is better than GPS.”
I started driving again and looked over at Jess, who had started crying.
“You okay?” I asked.
“No, that really scared me. Getting yelled at in my head like that. It made me feel like a little girl getting reprimanded. But it’s not just that. Every time I start to feel a little safe, something happens to bring me back to reality. I don’t know where we’re supposed to go now. I don’t know how much longer I can do this.”
Once again I pulled over, this time into a strip mall parking lot, and put my arm around her.
“I don’t know what to tell you, Jess. You’re just going to have to have faith … in me, in The Voice, and mostly, in yourself, that you’re going in the right direction. Right now we’re on the run. At some point that’s going to change. We’re going to go on the offensive. We’re going to find the information to stop Hillstrom. And when we do, we can stop running. But we have to get there first.”
The tears stopped. She sniffed and blew her nose. “I’m sorry. I’m okay now.”
“Let’s just see where this road takes us,” I suggested. It was heading up into the mountains. Getting as far from the highway as possible seemed like a good idea to me.
The rain had stopped and the sun was trying to peek out from the rapidly retreating clouds. However, a dark horizon suggested more bad weather later on. After a few minutes of driving on the new road, we came to a sign pointing to the Scenic Alpine Highway to our left.
“Any gut feeling?” I asked.
“Nope. It says the Sundance Institute is on that road. Probably pretty beautiful up there. I could use some beautiful views to clear my head. This is amazing country.”
“Have you ever been out here before?”
“As a kid, I seem to remember. Most of the traveling I did with my parents was overseas. As an adult, I’ve done very little traveling. Mostly the New York to Washington corridor, and a few trips to Florida with friends.”
“Well, you’re going to see a lot of beautiful country from here on.”
“Wish I could appreciate it. Hard to when you don’t know if you are in someone’s cross-hairs.” She shook her head, as if to erase the thought.
We stopped briefly in Sundance to pick up some food, the bagels no longer appetizing and the coffee long since cold. We drove to the first scenic overlook we found and sat in silence while we ate, taking in the view. There were a couple of other cars parked there, so as much as we would have liked to stretch our legs, we didn’t get out. When we were finished eating, we continued on our way. The road was surprisingly empty of traffic, probably from the earlier rain and the threat of more.
After about ten minutes, the view was no longer of interest to me. I was looking in the rearview mirror, concentrating on something else.
“Jess, where did we put the bag with the money and my gun?”
“We threw all the bags in the trunk at the hotel, why?”
“There’s a scenic overlook coming up in a second. I’m going to hop out and grab the bag.”
“What’s wrong?”
“There’s a car behind us that doesn’t feel right to me.”
She turned and looked. “Where?”
“You can’t see it right now. It’s around one of the turns, about a half mile in back of us. The problem is, it’s been about a half mile behind since we got on this road. It was behind us when we stopped to buy the food, then again when we stopped to eat, and now it’s back there again, always the same distance.”
“Police?”
“I don’t think so. It’s a tan SUV. If it was police, I think they would have stopped us by now. If it’s someone else, maybe they’re waiting to catch us alone.” We pulled into the overlook. The only other car was just leaving, so we had it to ourselves. “I say, let’s stay right here and see what happens. If it is the police, they’re going to catch us anyway. If they’re from Hillstrom, we may as well find out now.”
I jumped out, pulled the bag from the trunk, and quickly got back into the car. I took out the gun and set it on my lap. I always kept a round in the chamber, so when the time came, I would cock the hammer and be ready. I was trying to act like the protector, but in reality, my stomach was halfway up my throat. I was scared to death.
We got out to sit on the rock wall, and waited. I sat so I could look out at the view on my right, while still keeping an eye on the road on my left. I kept the gun next to me. After about five minutes, I saw the SUV creep around the bend in the breakdown lane. There was only a driver. Seeing we were alone, he made his decision. He slowly pulled in with his hazard lights on and took a parking spot near us. My sweaty hand was on the gun hidden behind my body. I pulled back the hammer.
I whispered to Jess, “If I say ‘go’, or if anything happens, jump off the wall and hide behind it.” The wall was about three feet high. Beyond the wall was about fifteen feet of rock before it became a cliff.
The driver got out and stretched—the worst acting job I’d ever seen. He was young—mid-twenties—and well built. He was dressed casually, but for the city, not the mountains. Obviously not a tourist. The SUV had a rental look about it. He wore a light jacket, not so much because it was chilly, which it was, but to hide the gun on his belt over his butt. His fake stretch was the stupidest thing he could have done, as it allowed me to catch a glimpse of the gun. Okay, so I wasn’t dealing with a mental giant.
“Nice view,” he said.
“It is,” I answered. I was between him and Jess. She didn’t say a word. She was probably petrified, or waiting for the signal to jump behind the wall.
“Car’s giving me trouble,” he said, rather lamely, I thought. I wondered if he was as nervous as I was. He probably wasn’t part of Hillstrom’s team. Most likely he was just one of many temporary goons hired for the express purpose of finding and killing Jess. He looked at Jess. “Hey, do I know you?” He was scratching his leg in an obvious attempt to have his hand near his gun.
“Why don’t we cut the crap,” I said. “Were you sent to kill her?”
Genius that he was though, he decided he had to tell us how smart he was before killing us. He slowly pulled his gun out while he talked.
“Everyone else is looking for you along the highway. I saw you turn off suddenly, so…”
I lifted my gun, aimed, and fired while he was in mid-sentence. His eyes grew wide as he saw my gun a second before crumpling to the ground as the bullet caught him in the chest. The sound of the shot reverberated through the hills.
Jess and I fell behind the wall the moment after the shot. I lifted my head to see where he was, but he wasn’t going anywhere. He was sprawled at an unnatural angle on his back on the pavement near his car. A pool of blood had formed on his chest and was dripping down to the concrete.
I knew I had to act quickly. I jumped over the wall and ran to his body. I grabbed him under his armpits and dragged him back to the wall. Jess came alive at that point and jumped over to grab his legs. Together we lifted him over the wall and set him down out of sight of the road.
“You okay?” I asked Jess. The fact that she’d helped with the body surprised me, because she was obviously in shock.
She didn’t answer.
“There’s a water bottle in the tray between our seats. Can you get it and pour it on the blood drops on the concrete?” She nodded, and without a word ran to the car. There wasn’t a lot of blood, and hopefully the coming rain would wash it away, but this would make it harder for someone to notice.
I walked to the cliff and looked over. It dropped about twenty feet to a steep slope leading to another drop-off into a dense forest. I was hoping he would roll into the trees when I dropped him over the edge.
I ran back to the body. A few cars had passed on the road, but luckily none had pulled in. Jess poured water on the stains, rendering them almost invisible. The rain would finish the job. She picked up his gun and dropped it over the wall next to his body. I quickly searched him and found a wallet and a cell phone. Putting those aside with the gun, I checked for traffic and again picked him up by the armpits and dragged him to the ledge, where I set him down and rolled him over the side.
He landed on the slope below with a sickening thud, then slid down and went over the edge into the trees. From where I was standing, I couldn’t see his body, but he had left a good amount of blood on the rock. Hopefully the rain would do a cleaning job before the blood dried. I looked back at Jess, who was just staring at me, then I looked over the edge of the cliff again.
I had just killed a man. This was for real now.
Chapter 11
I was waiting for the nausea. Wouldn’t that be the natural reaction to your first kill? Shouldn’t I have been bent over vomiting and wondering how I could have just done that?
No. Other than a little shortness of breath and some shaking, I felt fine. And those were merely the after-effects of the adrenaline rush. It’s amazing what you can do when you’ve hit rock bottom and no longer care. Of course, that wasn’t exactly true. I cared about Jess. But that was simply another reason why the man’s death meant nothing to me. I was protecting her. He had come to kill us, for no other purpose than he was paid to do so. Should I have really given a second thought to ending his life? I didn’t think so.
For Jess, though, it was a different story. Reality had caught up with her, and had hit her hard. She was sitting by the wall hyperventilating. I hurried over to her as she took in great gasps of air. I guided her head between her knees and rubbed her back, trying all the time to talk her down. I spoke in calming tones, telling her it would be alright, dehumanizing the man who had come to kill us, and letting her know that it was our right to fight back.
She was a mess. Tears were flowing and she was sobbing, while at the same time choking on her sobs, unable to breathe. I was afraid I was going to lose her.
