by Kelly Moore
I look at the house and then to him again. I have to get my shot off, but I need to check on my family and get them out of the burning house.
“Fuck!” I scream as I chase after him, hoping that Jake can get in the house and help them. I follow him out of the gate and see him nearing a black Hummer. I pull the gun from my waistband, aiming instinctively and pulling the trigger. The gun fires loudly and the bullet shoots from the barrel, cutting through the air until it lodges deep into the back of his shoulder. He screams and stumbles forward, turning back to glare at me after catching his balance.
I can see the anger on his face from here, but he won’t come back and I know it. I take my leave and run back to the house. I have to get them out.
I run in through the busted front door and dash through the flames and up the stairs. I rush into John’s room and open the safe room. Flames are quickly devouring everything in sight, the smoke choking the air.
“Come on! We have to get out!” I yell as they start filing out of the safe room. I grab one of John’s baby blankets and hand it to Brooklyn to wrap around him. He’s kicking and screaming from the explosion, the heat, and smoke.
I lead them down the stairs and out to the back yard. Brooklyn crumbles to her knees at the end of the property. She looks up, and the bright flames light up her face. I can hear the fire truck and ambulance sirens in the distance, getting closer.
“Did you get your shot?” Jake asks.
“Yeah, I got it,” I answer, looking up at the flames.
Three guards come running over to us. “We have him. He’s on the move.” He shows me the screen on his smart phone. There is a small red dot that is traveling fast away from the house.
I take the phone and turn towards Brooklyn. “I have to go.”
“What? No!”
I shake my head and pull her and John against my chest. “I’m sorry. I have to… before he manages to dig that bullet out and I can’t find him. I’ll be back. I swear.”
“You can’t do this, John. Not now. Where are we supposed to go?”
“Stay together. Go to Jake’s house. I’ll be able to keep track of Miles.”
Her eyes fill with tears. “Please come back to us. We need you.”
“I will.” I move in for a kiss, lingering at her lips longer than needed.
I pull away. “Get the house keys from Jake and get them out of here,” I say, looking at Matthew.
He nods and pulls out his phone.
“Come on, Jake.” I turn and run toward the front of the house. The firetruck is pulling into the gate as I turn and force open the garage door. Smoke rolls out but I push on.
I grab the keys to the bike from the wall and jump on, revving the engine.
When I pull out of the garage, Jake is already directing the EMTs to where everyone is waiting.
“Jake! Let’s go!”
He runs over to me. “I’m not riding bitch.”
“Shut up and go get on a bike,” I tell him, shaking my head.
He runs into the garage as the flames begin to take over the framework. Within seconds, he’s pulling up next to me. “Let’s go.”
I nod and shift the bike into gear, squealing the tires off the brick driveway.
I know I’m going to pay dearly for taking this bike, but it has to be done. Fuck, I’ll buy her a bike instead of a ring if she wants, or both. She deserves it all after the past two years she’s been through.
I turn left out of the driveway and pull the phone from my pocket. The dot is getting farther and farther away. I stop at a stop sign and mount the phone to the gas tank with the aftermarket holder. I can’t believe she put this shit on here. I’ll have to chew her ass out for this. I would tear the damn thing off if I didn’t need it so bad right now. I shake my head while Jake laughs beside me. He knows exactly what I’m pissed about.
“Oh, come on man. We have bigger issues than the attraction you have toward your bike.”
I flip him off before shifting back in gear and driving as fast as my bike will let me onto the freeway.
This ride feels like it’s taking forever. I track Miles to a large hanger and watch as he gets on a plane. There are several smaller planes around and a couple large ones. It seems as though this place is being used like a small, independently owned airport.
We stash our bikes and just as the plane starts to take off, I grab an attendant and push him against the side of the building. “Where’s that plane going?” I shove my gun in his face.
He holds his hands up. “Chicago. It’s going to Chicago.”
I grind my teeth together. “I need a plane now!”
“I can’t fly. I just work here.”
“Where can I find a pilot?”
He points me in the direction of the hanger. I shove my gun in his face. “If you tell anyone that you saw us here…”
He quickly shakes his head. “I won’t. I swear.”
I push him back, releasing him as I turn my back to him.
We walk through the open door quietly, unsure of what we will find inside. There are several planes parked next to work stations.
I lead the way along the side wall, staying out of sight by hiding behind the planes. Every few steps, I stop and listen. There is no noise. Everything is deathly quiet. I’m beginning to fear that there isn’t any pilots in here. If there were, surely they would be talking or making some kind of noise.
We quietly walk through the hanger until we come to a man sitting at a wooden bar. He’s holding his head in his right hand, while his left clutches a half empty glass. I point him out from our hiding spot. “There’s our pilot,” I whisper.
“That drunk guy?”
I shrug. “Let’s just hope he isn’t the one that drank that whole bottle setting in front of him.
“Do you think he will take us?”
“Only one way to find out,” I say, slowly walking out of the shadows to approach the pilot. I sit down at his side. He must have been here for a while - his blue eyes are bloodshot and drooping. Suddenly I realize that he is the one that drank the bottle setting in front of him. “Are you a pilot?”
The man looks at me, confusion etching his face, causing wrinkles to form around his bloodshot eyes. “What’s it to you?” he asks gruffly, annoyance dripping from his words.
“I need a ride to Chicago.”
He shakes his head. “I’ve been drinking since noon, buddy. You don’t want to get on a bicycle with me, let alone an airplane.”
I lean in. “Well, you see, that’s where you’re wrong. Just get me back to the states. I can take it from there.”
He sets his drink down with a little too much force. “Didn’t you hear me? I said no!”
I show him the gun I’m carrying, poking him in the ribs with the tip. “I said get up.”
His eyes zero in on the gun and he stands, walking toward the open back door. I motion for Jake and we quickly follow him out onto the runway.
“This is the only plane I have,” he slurs.
The tiny plane looks like it’s made of papier-mâché. Looking back at Jake, I ask, “What do you think?”
“So, let me get this straight. You want to get on this little rickety ass plane with a pilot who’s been drinking all day?”
I think it over and nod. “Yeah, I think it’s our only option.”
He runs his hand through his hair. “What the fuck, man? Why couldn’t you have just shot him back at the house? We’d still have a house right now! We wouldn’t be about to die in a fiery plane crash at the hands of a drunk pilot.”
I grab him by his shirt and pull him closer. “You need to get your shit under control.”
He pushes away from me. “Alright, fine.” He nods and starts pacing.
I turn back to the pilot. “Can you do this?”
He’s leaning against the side of the plane, almost asleep. His head perks up. “Oh yeah. I’ve done this many times. Once, I even passed out while flying and scared the shit out of the people who p
aid me to fly them to Mexico.”
I laugh nervously. “Yeah, great story. Let’s go.”
Jake’s eyes are wide with fear. “I don’t know about this, man. Are you sure you don’t want me to stay with Brook and J-Man?”
I laugh. “Not this time, bro. You’re on the front line.”
Chapter Twenty-One
John
“John, seriously, he can’t even walk in a straight line.” Jake continues to fuss as we board the small plane. I buckle in up front next to the pilot. Jake sits in the narrow seat in the back.
“We only have to make it to the states. After that, I know a guy in California. He’ll get us to Chicago.”
The plane wobbles on take-off. I focus on the instrument panel and making sure our pilot stays awake. “Why don’t you get some sleep, Jake? It’s going to be about a five-hour flight.” I look back at him and he’s holding his stomach.
“I don’t feel so good.” He wretches. I find a bag and hand it to him to just in time for him to barf.
“What the hell, man? You’ve flown a thousand times and never gotten sick.”
“I’ve never flown with a drunk pilot that swerved all over the runway.” He wretches again.
I look back over at the pilot, whose head is bobbing. “Hey man, wake up!” I shake his shoulder and his eyes pop open.
“We’re going to die!” Jake is in full-out panic mode.
“Calm down. I’ll fly the plane.” I start to unbuckle and the plane jerks to the left. I grab the controls and straighten us back out.
“Have you ever flown a plane before?” Jake has unbuckled and he’s tugging the pilot out of the way. “I’ll do it!”
“You’ve never flown before either,” I grab the pilot’s feet, helping to move him out of the way. The plane jostles and my head hits the top. Before I get my bearings, Jake jumps into the pilot seat.
“I took lessons while you were away.”
“Really? That’s awesome.” I suddenly feel much better.
“I didn’t finish or pass, but I took them.”
The pit in my stomach has returned with a vengeance. I’m rummaging through compartments and under seats.
“What are you looking for?” Jake’s hands are firmly on the controls.
“An instruction manual.”
He starts laughing.
“What’s so damn funny?” I slam one of the compartments.
“They don’t keep those on the plane.”
“Why the hell not?”
“Well, first off, it’s a private plane. Secondly, the pilot that owns it, knows how to fly it. He doesn’t need the instructions.” He points his thumb in the direction of the pilot passed out in the back.
I double check all my buckles, then brace myself on the dash of the plane. “We are going to die.”
“Relax. Why don’t you try to take a nap?” he says in a mocking tone.
“Just sit there and shut the hell up. Focus on flying the damn plane!” His lips move as he mumbles something under his breath. Every now and then he glares at me, but doesn’t utter another word. I watch the phone screen, keeping an eye on the red dot that is Miles. It looks like they are about an hour ahead of us. We’ll lose time stopping in California. I’m okay with lagging behind. I want him to think he wasn’t followed. He would never believe that I would leave my family after he blew up the house. Honestly, I’m feeling guilty about leaving them, but if I don’t take Miles out, we’ll always be running and looking over our shoulders. I’d rather die myself than let my family continue to live like that.
“Hey, John. Wake up. We’re going to be landing soon.” Jake shakes my arm. For a minute I’ve forgotten where I am. The phone slid off and is laying on the floor in front of me. Once I get my whereabouts, I snatch it off the floor and start it back up, waiting for the red dot to appear. My heart stops until I see it start to flash.
“You fell asleep.”
“Sorry, man.” I run my hand down my face, then stretch. “We didn’t die.”
“No, but we haven’t landed yet. That’s the part I failed.”
I look over at him wide-eyed with that knot suddenly back in my gut.
“Move out of my way,” the pilot barks.
Jake quickly unbuckles and gets out of the way, letting him take over. “I’m glad you finally decided to join us,” Jake snaps.
The pilot ignores him and starts talking over the radio, setting us up to land. A few minutes later, the landing gear grinds its way down from the belly of the plane. The runway stretches out before us, its orange lights illuminating our path. He eases back on the controls and we touch down smoothly.
We both unbuckle, grabbing our bags. “We need to run, Jake. There is no time to waste.” The pilot gets out of the plane with us and I dig some cash out of my pocket.
“I’m sorry for the way I had to do this, but this is all I have. Please take it.” I shove the cash into his hand. “And please take a nap before you fly home.” I turn around and we both run full speed to the hangar. The pilot we’re about to meet has worked for me many times and been paid very well in the process. He’s an old cranky guy, but the best damn pilot I’ve ever met.
We are both out of breath by the time we make it to the open door. The sun has started to rise, giving us enough light to see inside. In the very back, Joe is pouring himself a mug of coffee.
“Joe!” I yell, and he turns in my direction.
The man has millions of dollars, yet only has about four teeth in his entire mouth. “What brings you here?” He smiles and heads in my direction.
“Sorry, Joe. No time for pleasantries. I need to get to Chicago.”
“You know the deal.”
“The money will be in your account tomorrow.”
“Good enough for me.” He pulls off his ball cap and changes it for his flying hat. It is another ball cap that simply says “Flying” on it. “Let me grab what I need, I’ll meet you in the plane.
We land and catch a cab, headed straight to the bar where Miles’ red dot is flashing on the tracker’s screen. Unless they removed the bullet on the plane, which I severely doubt - I know Miles has no pain tolerance - he should be right where it is flashing.
I signal the cab driver to stop two blocks down from the bar, where I throw a wad of cash on the front seat and grab our bags. Jake follows in step with me.
“So, what’s the plan?” he whispers.
“We’re not going to be able to go through the front door. We’re going to go to the back alley and make our way to the roof.”
Jake’s footsteps fall silent behind me. I turn around to check on him and see he’s standing still. “We’re going to climb the building?”
“No, nothing that heroic. There’s an old metal ladder leading up to the roof. Now come on.” He falls in behind me again. We make it to the back of the building with no problems. One of his men was posted outside the front door, but there is no sign of anyone back here. I make sure my gun is snugly in place before beginning the climb. The first step creaks and I stop while both of us look around to make sure no one heard it. Once I know the coast is clear, I start climbing again. Jake waits at the bottom until I’ve made it all the way up the brick building. I throw my leg over the ledge and wave at him to start his climb.
Halfway up, someone comes around the corner. I motion for Jake to stop climbing and he hugs his body tight against the brick wall. I don’t even think he’s breathing. The guy looks around the area, but never looks up. I wave for Jake to continue his climb.
“That was some scary shit,” he says, finally making it to the roof.
“It’s only going to get worse. Are you sure you can handle it?”
“Now’s a fine time to ask me that. Maybe you should have thought about that before you hijacked a plane and made me come with you.”
Valid point, I never asked him. “Stay here. I’m going to go through the air vent. It drops down right into Miles’ office. When it’s done, I’ll come back up using those sta
irs that are through that locked door.” I point at them. “Your job is to find a way to get it unlocked before I come back up and to shoot anyone who comes through that door that isn’t me. Can you handle that?”
He nods. I start to leave and he snags my arm. “I’ve never killed anyone before.”
“Let’s hope you don’t have to. Come give me a boost to get into the vent system.” Jake kneels down beneath it and laces his fingers together for me to step into. I step and he stands, giving me enough height to remove the outside frame and crawl inside.
I hear him whisper, “Be careful.”
There is just enough room inside for me to crawl. Dust and mold are caked in a thick layer on the inside walls of the ductwork from years of abandonment. My movements kick up a cloud of dust, and I have to hold my breath to keep from coughing. I come to the first vent and look down. It’s the office directly across from Miles. This will probably be a good place to enter, but first I want to see if Miles is in his office. Voices drift up to me as I crawl over the next vent. I lay down quietly and look through the slats. Miles is laying on his stomach on the desk and someone is removing the bullet from his shoulder.
“I should have killed the son of a bitch instead of blowing up his house. He has no idea the plans that have been set in motion for him.” He’s talking to one of his men who’s leaning against the wall.
As far as I can tell, there are only three of them in the room. I wait and watch until the bullet is removed. The person that removed the bullet leaves the room and the guard follows, leaving Miles alone. Miles’ stubby little arms are struggling their way into a button-down shirt. He moans when the shirt slides over his wound. “Damn it!” He sits down and lights up a cigarette. Time to make my move.
The crawl space is too tight for me to turn around. I slowly crawl backward to the previous vent and fish a multipurpose tool out of my pocket to unscrew the vent, careful not to make any noise. I slide it into the crawl space. Using my arms, I brace myself against the edges and lower myself down. My shoes make a dull thud as they hit the floor. I step behind the door in case someone comes in the room to see what it was.
