Allison

by Strand, Jeff

  Winlaw hung up. In theory, he could call up Allison and instruct her to follow one of their cars, and have them lead her someplace secluded. But then she’d be on high alert. He needed her to have no idea that people were after her already. This first phase was all about the element of surprise.

  Time to give Allison another call.

  “Hi, asshole,” she answered.

  “Just checking in.”

  “I know.”

  “Looks like you’re making good time.”

  “Yep.”

  “I’ll call you later.”

  “I’ll be waiting, asshole.”

  Winlaw hung up. He was happy to let Allison call him an asshole if it made her feel better, though if she ended up in his employ her attitude would change very quickly.

  It had been about twenty minutes since they last spoke, and if Winlaw didn’t call in the next five minutes, Allison was going to call him.

  As soon as she made this decision, he called.

  “Hey,” she said, deciding to skip the “asshole” part this time. “You’ve gotta let me stop at a rest area or my bladder’s going to explode. I’ll be quick, I promise.”

  “You can have ten minutes,” said Winlaw. “Not a second more.”

  “Thank you.”

  “She’s going to stop at the next rest area,” Winlaw told Buster. “Which of you is behind her right now?”

  “Dean is. I’m maybe a quarter-mile ahead.”

  “Perfect. I told her she could have ten minutes, so she may linger. See if you can make anything happen. Only do it if it’s completely safe. No risks.”

  “Will do.”

  Buster parked in the rest area. It wasn’t crowded, but nor was it barren. There were plenty of possible witnesses around.

  He opened the glove compartment and took out the rag and the small bottle of Chloroform. As he did this, Allison parked a few spaces away from him. Dean pulled up right next to him.

  Allison got out of her car and quickly hurried toward the restrooms, moving like somebody who really, really had to pee.

  Buster left the bottle and rag on the seat as he and Dean got out of their vehicles. He glanced around to make sure nobody was close enough to overhear them. “What do you think?”

  Dean looked around. “I don’t like it.”

  “We might not get another chance.”

  “He said not to worry if we couldn’t catch her. He said not to take any risks.”

  “That is indeed what he said,” Buster agreed.

  “You think he’ll be pissed if we miss this chance?”

  “I think he’ll be happier if we don’t miss it.”

  “How do we pull this off? We can’t just tackle her and drag her to the car.”

  “We just need an opportunity to get the rag over her mouth without anybody seeing. We need, like, a five second window.”

  “Do you think we can get five seconds?” Dean asked.

  “We should at least try.”

  “All right. Let’s do it.”

  Buster got back into his car and poured some Chloroform onto the rag. Then he neatly folded it up. Nobody would see him and think, “Hey, that dude is holding a Chloroform-soaked cloth!”

  He got out of the car again, shut the door, then he and Dean walked toward the restrooms. They passed a couple of people, but nobody seemed suspicious of them.

  There were a couple of teenagers in the vending machine area. If they turned around, they’d see the door to the women’s restroom. But the angle wasn’t right and they wouldn’t see Buster or Dean reflected in the glass.

  If Allison let out a gasp, they’d turn around.

  As long as those teenagers were there, it wasn’t safe to try to drug her. But this was the only place in the rest area that had enough cover. When she walked away from the building there’d be too many people around and they’d have to abandon the plan.

  “Should we go in?” Dean asked.

  “What if she’s not the only one in there?”

  “Then we apologize and step out. They’ll think we’re perverts or idiots.”

  “Y’know, they don’t have urinals in there.”

  “You don’t say. Are you saying that women don’t have penises? Did I fall asleep that day in biology class?”

  Buster glared at him. “What I’m saying is that they’ll be in stalls, which means the doors will be closed, which means that if we move quick we can get her even if there are other people in there.”

  “I like it.”

  Buster looked back at the vending machines. What was taking those kids so damn long to choose? Just buy a can of soda and a candy bar and get the fuck out!

  Through the door, Buster heard the air dryer turn on.

  “If it’s her, we do this. If it’s not, we bail.”

  Dean nodded.

  Buster pushed open the door.

  Allison rubbed her hands under the dryer. Nobody in the history of human civilization had ever used one of these things until their hands were completely dry, and she would not be the one to break that streak.

  Somebody walked into the restroom.

  She wiped her hands off on her jeans.

  She glanced over toward the door.

  Two men were right next to her.

  For a split-second she started to speak, to inform them that they’d accidentally gone into the wrong one, and then she realized that, no, these men were very much there on purpose.

  One of them slammed a wet rag against her mouth.

  22

  Allison went limp in Buster’s arms. He and Dean quickly led her out of the restroom. She was still partly walking on her own, like somebody who was completely drunk off their ass but hadn’t lost all motor skills.

  “It’s all right, it’s all right, we’ve got you,” said Buster. The teenagers by the vending machines turned around to see what was going on. “She’s a little lightheaded,” Buster told them. “She’ll be fine.”

  Several people stared as they led Allison to Dean’s car, but as long as it looked like a low blood sugar episode and not a kidnapping, everything would work out.

  “Do you want me to call an ambulance?” a woman asked as they passed her.

  “No, no, that’s not necessary at all. She’s not supposed to skip any meals. We’ve got glucose tablets in the car.”

  Buster wished he’d had a few more seconds to really press the rag into Allison’s face. He still had it, but even if he pretended that he was wiping off her mouth, it wouldn’t be smart to try to give her another dose in front of all these people. She was barely conscious. They’d fix it once they got her into the car.

  Almost there.

  Allison’s head slumped forward. Had she fallen asleep completely? That was good news if nobody at the rest area decided to interfere.

  They got her to the car. Dean opened the passenger-side door and they got her inside, with everybody still watching. Buster fastened her seat belt, while they both reassured her and anybody who might overhear them that she was going to be totally fine.

  Buster didn’t have any pills on him. He had lots of them in the trunk—two crates—but going back to get them would not be intelligent. Instead, he mimed taking out a couple of pills and feeding them to her. It wasn’t as if anybody was watching them through a telescopic lens. He picked up a bottle of water and tilted it to her lips.

  “You follow me,” he whispered to Dean.

  Buster got in his own car. Considering that they nabbed Allison in broad daylight surrounded by witnesses, this had gone astoundingly well. They’d get out of the rest area, quickly find a spot without prying eyes, knock her out completely, and then throw her in the trunk.

  She honestly seemed harmless. Buster had no idea why Winlaw was so concerned with capturing a middle-aged lady.

  Allison hadn’t been faking it. She’d been dizzy and loopy and wanted nothing more than to curl up and go to sleep. She had to fight it.

  One of the men who was trying to abduct her got into
the driver’s seat.

  She didn’t know if this was the best time to act. She did know that she wanted to escape long before he delivered her to Winlaw, and she also knew that she was safer fighting him now than when he was driving sixty-five miles per hour on the highway.

  But she was so sleepy. It was hard to be scared and angry when she was so tired. It didn’t help that she had to keep her eyes closed to make him feel like she posed no threat. If she could open them, it would be easier to stay awake.

  Winlaw had Cody.

  He was going to kill him.

  She wasn’t going to let Winlaw kill her friend.

  Winlaw had to die.

  Therefore, the driver of this car had to die.

  Her anger was returning, far overpowering her fear. She tried to let it build up inside of her. Focus it inward. Fill herself with more and more rage until...

  She opened her eyes and screamed.

  The driver slammed his head into the steering wheel, honking the horn.

  Then again. And again.

  Allison assumed that this was drawing attention, but she didn’t care. Nobody would see a guy bashing his face against the steering wheel and credit it to the passenger’s telekinetic powers.

  The steering wheel wasn’t quite doing the trick. She needed him to bash his skull against the dashboard. It was more solid and would do greater damage.

  She tried to use her mind to adjust the trajectory of his head.

  Instead, he tilted his head back. All the way back. Further than should’ve been physically possible.

  His neck snapped.

  His throat burst open.

  He flopped forward.

  In her peripheral vision she could see that the other guy was getting out of his car, so she didn’t have much time. She quickly patted the dead man down. No gun. He had to have one somewhere, right?

  She opened the glove compartment. There it was.

  She grabbed the gun as the other man opened her door. She pointed it at his stomach. People in the rest area would know that some serious shit was going down, but she didn’t think anybody was at the right angle to see her gun.

  “Do you want to die?” she asked. Her words were slurred, but she thought he should be able to understand the question.

  “No,” he responded.

  “I don’t care if these...” She lost her train of thought for a second. “...if these people see me shoot you.”

  “I’ll do whatever you want.”

  “Step away.”

  The man took a couple of big steps away from her. She shoved the gun into the waist of her jeans and got out of the car.

  “We’re going to my car,” she told him.

  “Mine’s right here.”

  “Mine has my cat. Move fast. It’s the silver Prius.”

  The man walked quickly toward Allison’s car. She followed him, close enough that she wouldn’t miss if she shot him, but not so close that he could smack the gun out of her hand. She stumbled a couple of times but managed to stay upright.

  People were watching them. One woman was on her phone. Allison couldn’t worry about that right now.

  They reached her car. She glanced through the window and saw that Spiral was asleep on the passenger’s seat. She opened the door, picked the cat up with her free hand, and tossed him into the back seat as gently as possible. He’d forgive her. “Get in,” she told the man.

  The man obliged. Allison got in on the other side and turned on the engine.

  “You try anything and I’ll shoot you,” she told him.

  “I understand.”

  She backed out of her spot. Several people were watching her, and two men were hurrying toward the car with the fresh corpse. But nobody stood in her way or tried to stop her as she drove out of the rest area and back onto the highway.

  “Take out your phone,” she said. “Call your boss. Tell him that the plan went off without a hitch. Tell him that you’re going to find someplace safe so you can tie me up and put me in the trunk. Deviate from that at all and I’ll kill you.” Allison was feeling much more alert.

  “Okay.”

  “Repeat it back.”

  “The plan went off without a hitch. We’re going someplace safe so I can—”

  “So we can. Your partner is still alive, as far as he knows.”

  “We can tie you up and put you in the trunk.”

  “And then you tell him that you have to hang up.”

  The man nodded. “And then I’ll tell him that I have to hang up.”

  “Call him. Put him on speaker. Don’t fuck up.”

  The man took out his cell phone. It rang a couple of times, then she heard Winlaw’s voice. “Hello?”

  “Hi. This is Buster.”

  “I know who it is,” said Winlaw. “How did it go?”

  “Flawless. The plan went off without a hitch.”

  “Excellent. That’s excellent.”

  “She’s asleep in the back seat. We’re going to take her someplace safe so we can wrap her in the tape and put her in the trunk.”

  “Perfect.”

  “Sorry if I sound weird. It was stressful. But we got it done.”

  Crap. He was overselling it.

  “That’s completely understandable,” said Winlaw. “Keep me informed.”

  “I will. Gotta go.” Buster hung up. “How was that?”

  “Good job,” Allison told him. “Thank you for not being stupid.”

  “Now what?”

  “Now you hope that your boss isn’t following the news that’s happening sixty miles from home. Pretty sure your dead friend is going to get some press coverage.”

  “Now what besides that?”

  “You’re going to sit there and behave. You’re now my bargaining chip.”

  Buster was not Allison’s bargaining chip. She couldn’t imagine that Winlaw had any real loyalty to him, not if he was sending Buster after somebody who’d killed a half-dozen of his other employees. Poor Buster was expendable as hell.

  She had plans for him, but she wasn’t going to share them yet, because he most definitely was not going to like them.

  Winlaw was delighted by the news, but he wasn’t willing to call off the rest of the operation until he had Allison in his possession. He might keep Cody alive a while longer to help control her. He’d execute Maggie with a bullet to the back of the head—he wasn’t the kind of psychopath who would inflict pain upon a pregnant woman after she was no longer useful to him. Quick death. No pain, no fear.

  Allison pulled off at the next exit. She’d rather have put a little more distance between her and the rest area, but she didn’t want Buster to get progressively braver.

  She had no idea where she was going except “someplace secluded.” She took random turns, trying to choose the path that seemed most likely to take her away from civilization.

  “Where are we going?” Buster asked.

  “Somewhere that I can put you in the trunk,” she lied.

  “You could do that here,” he said. “Nobody’s around. I’ll jump right in.”

  She didn’t respond and continued driving.

  A few minutes later, she was satisfied. The dirt road was terrible to drive on—this was most definitely not a heavy-traffic route. She’d feel better if she reached a part where the road was impassable, but she still felt very confident that they wouldn’t be interrupted.

  She took the gun out of her waistband and held it up so Buster could see it. “Stay in the car until I tell you to get out.”

  Allison popped the trunk then got out of the vehicle. Her bug out bag had a roll of duct tape. She had not included it in her emergency supplies with the expectation that she’d use it to tape over somebody’s mouth, but duct tape had an infinite number of uses.

  She took out the roll of tape then closed the trunk.

  “Now get out of the car,” she told Buster.

  Buster got out. He looked more suspicious than terrified. Clearly, she didn’t need to go this
far out of her way to safely move him to the trunk, but he didn’t seem to realize yet that though he would indeed be going into the trunk, he wouldn’t be alive when it happened.

  She handed him the roll, since she couldn’t unspool it and keep the gun pointed at him at the same time. “Tape your mouth shut. Do a good job. Wrap it around your head a few times.”

  “I’m one of Winlaw’s top guys,” Buster said. “He’ll pay a lot to get me back.”

  “No, he won’t. Tape your mouth.”

  Buster did as he was told, then he tore off the strip of tape and handed the roll back to her.

  “Thank you,” she said. “You’ve been very cooperative.”

  Buster nodded.

  “I’m going to explain to you what’s about to happen. I think that’s only fair. Your boss wants me because I have powers that I can’t really explain. That’s how I broke your partner’s neck. I don’t know how I got them, and it’s very difficult for me to control them. I’ve always wondered if they’re like playing a musical instrument or a team sport. You can’t get good at them right away.”

  Buster looked extremely confused.

  “You’ve provided me with an opportunity I’ve never had before. And I’m going to make the most of it. Do you understand what I’m getting at?”

  Buster shook his head.

  “Thanks to you, I get to practice.”

  23

  Now Buster looked terrified.

  Allison was not going to get any pleasure from this. But nor was she going to wallow in guilt over what had to be done. If Buster didn’t want to die an excruciatingly painful death, he shouldn’t have tried to kidnap her.

  Winlaw was presumably still tracking her phone and would wonder why they were stopped for so long. Let him wonder. She’d be in touch after this was over.

  Wide-eyed, Buster backed up against the car. He made muffled noises that were clearly pleas for his life. Presumably he didn’t know exactly what she meant by “practice,” but he knew that it was going to turn out badly for him. She kept the gun pointed at him to discourage him from trying to run, though she had no intention of using a bullet on him.