The Last Mile

by David Baldacci

  Mars took a step back.

  “Come on, Mellow, if I wanted to hurt you I could have done it anytime I wanted.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “Just for a ride. Then I’ll bring you back here. I promise.”

  “But do I get back breathing or not?”

  “I promise, Mellow. I’m not going to hurt you. I figure I did a good enough job of that already.”

  Mars looked around and then walked toward his father. They climbed into the car and Roy backed out, reached the main road, and accelerated.

  There were no stars out, the clouds were gathering, and not another car was on the road.

  Mars eyed his father. “You got a limp?”

  “Yeah, getting old.” He glanced at his son as he drove. “You have to hate me, Mellow. If you don’t, something’s wrong in your head.”

  “I want to try to understand why you did what you did.”

  “I told the fat guy some.”

  “Yeah, he told me some too, but not all. Probably to spare my feelings.”

  Roy laughed. “I don’t have that problem.”

  “You did with Mom.”

  The smile vanished on Roy’s face.

  “You killed her, didn’t you? Shot her in the face with my gun.”

  “The cancer was going to eat her brain. We had no money for treatments. The doctors told us…”

  “Where did you go to get the diagnosis?”

  “Mexico. Your mom and me spent time there. And they had experimental stuff, but nothing to help her. And we didn’t want anyone in town to know. Just in case.”

  “Decker said she might’ve been a slave in Cali. And that she stole that silver teapot when she got away.”

  “The fat guy has a big brain, then. She wasn’t exactly a slave, but she wasn’t free either. They had plenty of money. She got fed. Had a roof over her head. But…she wasn’t free to go. And they weren’t exactly nice to her.”

  “So how did she get away?”

  “That’s how we met. I was down there working a job. The folks holding your mom knew the people I worked for. They had car problems. I went there to fix them. They lived in a damn castle, drove Rolls-Royces and Bentleys, never worked a day in their lives. But when I went there I found out about your mom. We had talks. Then we made plans. Then I got her out of there.”

  “Did you kill them?”

  Roy looked at him. “And would it matter to you if I did?”

  Mars looked out the window.

  Roy said, “We took the teapot, not to sell. You know we kept it. Your mom just wanted something from them, after all they did to her.”

  “How could you have killed her, Dad?”

  Roy noticeably winced. He pulled the car off the road, cut the lights, and put it in park.

  “You think I woke up one morning and decided to shotgun her in the head? Do you!?”

  “What I know is that you planned this meticulously. You killed some guy and made it look like you were dead too. And then you set me up to take the fall. Instead of playing in the NFL, I spent half my life behind bars. I was almost executed.”

  “I wasn’t going to let them kill you, Mellow.”

  Mars slammed his fists so hard against the dashboard that it dented.

  “My damn name is Melvin.”

  The only sounds for the next minute were the breathing of the two men.

  “Okay, Melvin, everything you just said is true. I killed the dude. Your mom switched his dental records. I killed her. I set the bodies on fire. I got the chick and the motel dude to do what they did. I disabled your car. I framed you. You went to prison because of me.”

  “Why? Why did you do that to me?”

  “It was the safest place for you. Your mom thought so too.”

  “Bullshit!” roared Mars.

  In response, Roy pulled out his gun. But instead of pointing it at Mars, he laid it on the seat between them.

  “Then pick up this gun, point it at my head, and pull the fuckin’ trigger, Mellow. If you got the balls.”

  Mars looked down at the gun, disbelief on his features. Then he slowly reached down, picked it up, and pointed it at his father.

  “Shit, you don’t even know how to hold a pistol the right way. It’s not a shotgun. Use your dominant hand to make the pull, the other to brace, even at this distance. Hell, it don’t matter, you can hardly miss from where you’re sitting. But my blood and brains will literally be on your hands.”

  Roy calmly looked away and stared out the windshield, aimlessly whistling a tune under his breath.

  Mars said, “I think you want me to kill you.”

  “Part of me does. Just end it. I’m tired, Melvin. It’s been a long time. None of it good.”

  “And the Three Musketeers?”

  To this Roy laughed out loud. “Saw you going to talk to McClellan. How is old Roger? He likes dressing up with all those medals on his uniform. After he graduated from Ole Miss he got multiple deferments from ’Nam. Same for Thurman and Danny. Their dads saw to that. They were all way too busy back here killing coloreds to go fight the Vietcong. And the Vietcong fired back. Big, damn difference.”

  “Were you in Vietnam?”

  “You going to shoot me or not?”

  Mars slowly lowered the gun and placed it on the seat between them.

  Roy gave him a disdainful look and put the weapon away in his shoulder holster.

  Mars said, “You were at the house. You saved us from that fire.”

  Roy shrugged.

  “Why?”

  “Why not.”

  “Because you don’t seem to be the sort who really minds people dying very much.”

  “That was our house. Your mother’s and mine. They had no right to come there. And I told the fat guy I had your back.”

  “That’s why you did all this, right? The ESPN thing?”

  Roy shrugged. “You were so famous, Mellow. It was gonna happen one day. Your mother prayed every night that it wouldn’t, but in our hearts we knew those prayers were not going to be answered one day. And then that day came.”

  “And did they contact you? Threaten you?”

  “Let’s just say that they never let the grass grow under their feet.”

  “But didn’t you have plastic surgery? That scar?”

  Roy laughed. “I didn’t have two dimes to rub together. That scar was from a fight over a girl.”

  “What girl?”

  “Your mother. You’re right. I did kill the people who had her. All of them. They deserved it.”

  “And Mom still went with you? A killer?”

  “You wouldn’t ask that question if you saw what they did to her.”

  “I thought you said it wasn’t that bad.”

  “I lied. It was hell. She was the family hooker and maid. They even let the guests have a go.”

  “Did you kill Regina Montgomery?”

  “She was an idiot. All she needed to do was go off into the sunset. But before her husband was even fried she was out buying shit and screwed it all up.”

  “Why did you approach them in the first place?”

  “Isn’t it obvious? To keep you from being executed.”

  “You let me stay in prison for twenty years.”

  “But I wasn’t going to let them kill you.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I promised your mother I wouldn’t.”

  “I just don’t get you. I don’t know who the hell you are.”

  Roy turned to him. “All you need to know is that I loved your mother more than anything. I sacrificed everything I had for her. I would have done anything for her.”

  “You killed her!”

  Roy screamed, “Because she told me to!”

  The interior of the car suddenly did not seem large enough to hold both men at the same time. Mars just stared numbly out the windshield, seemingly unable to turn his gaze toward his father.

  Roy said in a strained voice, “And I did it. Because I always did
anything she asked of me. Even that.” He turned to Mars. “She wasn’t the only one who died that night. Because I died too.”

  “And you put me in prison.”

  Roy rubbed at his face. “They would have killed you, don’t believe otherwise.”

  “Because they think I have what was in that safe deposit box.”

  Roy’s features hardened. “Decker again? He’s one smart prick. I should’ve slit his throat when I had the chance.”

  “Chocha,” said Mars.

  Roy looked at him. “What about it?”

  “It means playing possum. Playing dead. Like you did.”

  “As I said, better prison than a grave. These guys were serious people. Kill you to look at you.”

  “Did you bomb the church? And the NAACP office? Did you?”

  “You’re getting way ahead of yourself.”

  “Simple questions. Yes or no?”

  “What, you want a confession?”

  “They were little kids, Dad. In a choir.”

  Roy looked away. “They weren’t supposed to be there. Choir practice ran late, I guess.”

  “But you still did it.”

  “That part was out of my hands.”

  “Okay, so you’re completely innocent?”

  Roy laughed. “You’ll never hear those words come out of my damn mouth.”

  “Decker told McClellan that you were coming for them. To scare them.”

  “Is that right? Like I could give a shit.”

  “Really? Aren’t they the reason you had to kill Mom? I mean, if they weren’t around, if you’d had the balls to finish them off way back when?”

  Roy stared down at his hands. “It wasn’t that simple.”

  “So why don’t you tell me about it, Dad? You brought me out here. You obviously wanted to talk. So why don’t you tell me how a guy who married a ‘colored’ woman that he loved more than life itself could be part of a group that blew up black kids? Why don’t you tell me that?”

  “Easy enough. I was a racist asshole. Just like McClellan and his buddies.”

  “Was?”

  “Until I met your mother.”

  “What, then all your racist tendencies just vanished?”

  “No. But I never hurt anyone like that again.”

  “You hurt me! I’m black. You stole my life. Your own son.”

  Roy turned to look at Mars. “The thing is, Mellow, you’re not my son. Your mother was pregnant when I rescued her.”

  Mars sat there staring at him. “You’re not my father?” he finally managed to say.

  “No. I’m not.”

  “Then who was?” gasped Mars.

  “A prick who raped your mom over and over. Until I made him stop. By slitting his throat.”

  CHAPTER

  62

  MARS STOOD IN the parking lot and watched the taillights of the car disappearing as the rain started to sprinkle. He had never felt this disconnected from every other person on earth. It was like the plague had come and he was the only one left breathing. He actually would have welcomed the absolute solitude. He didn’t want to talk to anyone else ever again.

  When the last wink of car lights vanished, it was as though someone had cut off his blood flow. Mars sank to the asphalt, first on his knees and then onto his belly.

  He had so much rolling through his head that he couldn’t process it. He couldn’t even try. He felt sick. His limbs didn’t seem to work.

  He just lay there for a while until the rain picked up.

  He finally stood, staggered to his room, and collapsed on the bed and just lay there. An hour went by, and slowly he rose and sat on the side of the bed.

  His father was not his father.

  The man was a killer.

  He had set him up for murder. He had cost him twenty years of his life.

  His entire life was bullshit.

  * * *

  He left his room and knocked on Decker’s door. A few groans and mutterings later the door opened.

  “Why are you up this early?” said Decker. Then he saw the look on Mars’s face and quickly ushered him in.

  Mars sat down and told Decker what had just happened.

  Decker didn’t say a word until he had finished.

  “I’m sorry, Melvin.”

  “I don’t want your damn sympathy. I just want to get to the bottom of this.”

  “Well, I’m working on it,” said Decker.

  Mars slowly lifted his head. “Did you know he wasn’t my father?”

  “Why do you ask me that?”

  “Because you seem to know every damn thing, that’s why. So, did you?”

  Decker didn’t answer.

  “Decker!”

  “Does it really matter?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay, I suspected.”

  “How?”

  “Guy never said he loved you.”

  “How the hell did you know that?”

  “You told us. When you were under hypnosis. And he framed you for murder, Melvin. Don’t know many dads who would do that. What he