The Road Trip At The End Box Set

by J N Wood

  ‘Hey, your leg,’ Jack said. ‘Can you get up?’

  I tried but there was no chance.

  ‘Are you okay?’ Jack asked. ‘You look like you’re having a fit.’

  ‘I’m trying to get up. It’s not working. I think I can push myself up to his head.’

  It was slow, but I could force myself along the ground with my free leg. I was still facing Willard though, with my hands behind me. When my face was alongside his head I felt my shoulder getting wet.

  ‘I’m going through his fucking blood.’

  ‘You have to Chris. Keep going. You’re nearly there.’

  When I figured my hands were in line with his head, I tried to roll away from him. I pulled my free leg up towards my chest to use my knee as leverage. I managed to lift myself up two or three inches but that was it, soon falling back down onto my side.

  ‘That’s not going to work,’ Jack said.

  After managing to twist my arse around slightly, I got my right foot almost flat on the floor.

  ‘Nearly there Chris.’

  ‘Thanks Jack,’ I retorted. ‘The commentary isn’t helping.’

  With a grunt of pain I forced the chair, along with me, onto its back. All of my weight was resting on my arms, so I didn’t hang around, immediately rolling onto my left side. I was sweating profusely. It was collecting at my hairline and running across my forehead.

  ‘If you go straight back just a little bit,’ Jack said. ‘Your hands should hit Willard’s head.’

  ‘And his blood,’ I said. ‘Really looking forward to it.’

  I pushed myself across the floor again with my free leg, the chair scraping across the concrete.

  ‘Nearly,’ Jack said. ‘Just a bit to go.’

  My hands and wrists were getting wetter. Willard’s blood must be soaking into my clothes.

  ‘Yep,’ I replied. ‘I can tell.’

  My outstretched fingers touched flesh and I couldn’t help but recoil.

  ‘You’re there Chris. Just turn his head over and get that knife.’

  I took a deep breath and gently pushed back with my leg. My hands pressed against Willard’s hair as I pushed.

  ‘His head is rolling over,’ Jack said. ‘Just a bit more.’

  My hand touched what felt like a nose and I recoiled again.

  ‘This is fucking disgusting,’ I told Jack.

  ‘Oh fuck,’ he exclaimed. ‘It is disgusting. The knife went in between his eye and his nose.’

  I clamped my eyes shut and tried to imagine anything but that. It didn’t work. That was all I could imagine.

  ‘Soon be over,’ Jack told me. ‘Now just pull the knife out.’

  First of all I prised his hand away from the handle of the protruding knife. With my eyes closed and teeth clenched, I gripped the handle and tried to pull. I couldn’t do it. I was too close.

  ‘I’ve got no leverage,’ I told Jack.

  Keeping my grip on the knife, I stretched my foot out and tried to drag myself away from Willard. I moved half an inch, if that.

  ‘Did the knife come out at all?’ I asked.

  ‘No,’ Jack replied. ‘You just pulled Willard’s head towards you.’ He started to vigorously gesture to the stairs with his head. ‘Keep going. We don’t know when the other two will be back.’

  ‘They told Willard four hours,’ I told him.

  ‘They might be back early. Get on with it.’

  I grunted and groaned as I tried to drag myself across the floor. I could feel the tug of Willard’s face behind me, not wanting to let go of its hold on the knife. I stopped to catch my breath.

  ‘Keep going Chris.’

  ‘Just give me thirty seconds. This is really fucking tiring.’

  ‘No time for resting Chris. Just get that knife.’

  ‘Fuck off,’ I yelled, and reached out with my foot. My heel caught in a crack in the concrete. I pulled with all my strength. It felt like Willard’s face was pulling in the opposite direction. Then the knife seemed to slide a little, like it slipped out of Willard slightly. I lifted my foot out of the crack and slammed it back down, hoping to get a better purchase. One more heave and the knife just glided out, like pulling a knife out of butter. I felt warm liquid splash onto my fingers.

  ‘Yes!’ Jack called out. ‘You did it!’

  I twisted the knife around until I thought the blade was resting against the tape. Then I started lifting my hand up and down in a sawing motion. The knife sliced through something fleshy. I paused for a few seconds to figure out if it’d been my flesh.

  Then it started to hurt, a sharp stinging pain that became worse when I moved my left thumb.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Jack asked. ‘Why have you stopped?’

  ‘I just cut myself. I’m just trying to figure out if I’m gonna bleed to death.’

  ‘Are you?’

  ‘Nah, don’t think so,’ I replied, and carried on sawing at the tape.

  The knife was sharp so it didn’t take much longer. I cut the many strips wrapped around my torso, before leaning forwards to release my left leg. Once I was free I slowly got to my feet.

  It felt good to be able move all my limbs. I checked my left hand to find I’d sliced through the pad of my thumb. It looked like a red mouth smiling up at me.

  I took the three steps over to Jack and started stabbing at the tape around his wrists.

  ‘You’re covered in blood,’ he told me.

  ‘I have just been rolling around in it so that’s not a surprise.’

  ‘How is it all over your face?’

  ‘I don’t fucking know,’ I said, and cut the last strip wrapped around his back and chest. I handed him the knife. ‘Here, do your ankles. I’m gonna see what shit they’ve got.’

  ‘We need to get out of here,’ Jack said, straining to cut the tape around his legs.

  The closest table was covered with shoe boxes. I opened one with the Nike logo on top. It was packed with money, rolls and rolls of cash.

  ‘Fucking hell,’ I muttered, and opened another. It was the same. I quickly lifted another six lids. They were all stuffed with rolls of cash, elastic bands making sure they kept their shapes. ‘I think this is the money table.’ I started stuffing the rolls into my pockets.

  ‘That won’t be their money,’ Jack said. ‘They’ll have stolen it.’

  ‘Now I’m stealing it back off them.’

  Jack took a second to think it over. ‘Good point. Hurry up though.’

  ‘Help me then.’

  Jack appeared at my side and started filling his pockets.

  Once we’d run out of pocket space, we gave each other a quick nod, and started up the stairs. I paused halfway up after spotting Logan’s backpack on another table.

  ‘Bollocks,’ I said. ‘Shall we fill up some bags with stuff?’

  ‘No time for that,’ Jack said, grabbing my arm once again. ‘We need to go before they come back and kill us.’

  He dragged me up the next few steps before I stopped resisting and got back into step with him. We jogged across the wooden floorboards of the disused shop, slowing to a stop upon reaching the doors.

  ‘I’m going to have a quick look,’ Jack said, and then opened the door just a fraction to peer out, looking right and then left. ‘I can’t see anything.’

  ‘Let’s go then.’

  He opened the door and I instantly closed my eyes to the bright sunshine. I managed to open them slightly, so squinting, I followed him out.

  ‘Fucking hell it’s bright,’ I said. ‘I was expecting it to be dark.’

  ‘Why?’ Jack asked as we kept low and close to the buildings. ‘We were only down there for half an hour.’

  ‘Oh right. Dunno then. Getting hit on the head might have fucked up my perception slightly.’

  Jack stopped at the next corner and peered around the edge of the building. ‘That was just a gimp suit and a red ball away from one of us getting fucked in the arse.’

  ‘Bagsy the Bruce Willis
role,’ I said. ‘You can be Ving Rhames.’

  Jack waved me on and stepped around the corner. ‘They’d have probably gone for me anyway. Milos probably made his mind up as soon as he saw your sliced up face.’

  ‘I knew there’d be some positives for getting my face cut up.’

  ‘Plus I have a much better arse,’ Jack added.

  We moved silently through the smaller roads. They looked like the ones we’d taken to get here. I trusted Jack entirely to get us back to the house.

  ‘That experience has changed my mind,’ Jack told me. ‘I’m going to take you up on your offer.’

  I looked back at him as we walked, utterly perplexed. ‘I honestly can’t remember making you an offer.’

  ‘Me and Beth going back to the internment camp.’

  ‘Oh right. I didn’t think of that as an offer. Yeah it makes sense,’ I sighed. ‘I’m glad you’re doing it, but also really not looking forward to you leaving at the same time.’

  ‘I wouldn’t have considered it if you hadn’t suggested it. We said we’d get you to the border, but you are right.’

  Chapter 9: Treason

  We returned to the house to find Beth and Roy watching the television together in the lounge. They both looked up and smiled when we entered.

  ‘How did it go?’ Roy cheerfully asked. ‘Did you find a way through?’

  Jack and I gave each other exasperated glances.

  ‘We were really starting to get worried,’ Beth added.

  ‘Yes it looks it,’ Jack said, pointing at the TV. It looked like they were watching Seinfeld.

  Beth suddenly leaned forward on the settee. ‘Is that blood on you Chris?’ she asked, her voice no longer sounding so relaxed.

  ‘Yes,’ I replied. ‘But most of it isn’t mine.’

  ‘Whose blood is it then?’ Beth asked, getting to her feet. ‘Are you okay Jack.’

  ‘It’s not my blood,’ Jack quickly answered. ‘I’m fine. The blood on the back of your head is yours Chris. You should get that cleaned up. I’ll recap the morning’s events to these two.’

  I left the room and made my way to the bathroom, peeling off the very warm but now blood soaked coat as I walked.

  I found a beard trimmer in the bathroom, and pushing away all thoughts of what other body hair the machine may have trimmed in the past, shaved my beard off.

  I stood in the shower for a long time, letting the barely warm water wash away the memories of that basement. I was trying to ignore the pain every time shampoo or soap passed through the cut on my hand. Once I realised the water wasn’t really helping with the many issues swimming around in my head, I got out of the shower and dressed in some clean clothes I found in one of the wardrobes.

  ‘Fucking hell,’ Jack exclaimed as I walked back into the lounge. ‘Are you trying to show off your fucked up face now?’

  I aimed a middle finger at him and sat on the sofa.

  ‘You look much better Chris,’ Beth told me. ‘I only wish Jack would do the same and get rid of the ginger fluff on his face.’

  ‘I guess I should also have a shave,’ Roy said. ‘It’s probably a good idea to try and look inconspicuous over the border. Everybody coming over from America will look a bit dishevelled.’

  ‘We’ve just been talking about going back to the internment camp,’ Beth said. ‘Are you sure you’re okay with us going?’

  ‘Yes absolutely,’ I replied, nodding my head. ‘It was my idea.’ I turned to Roy. ‘There’s a beard trimmer in the bathroom. Try not to think about the owner of it trimming his ball sack.’

  ‘Delightful,’ Roy said, getting to his feet. ‘I’m going to jump in the shower.’

  ‘I trimmed my balls though,’ I called out to him as he left the room.

  ‘Okay,’ Roy shouted back.

  ‘How is the hand?’ Jack asked.

  I held it up and showed them the big smiley face in my palm. ‘Actually hurts more now it’s clean.’

  Beth’s face was screwed up in revulsion. ‘It looks a bit nasty.’

  ‘We should go as soon as possible,’ Jack said. ‘We don’t want to hang around in this town for much longer.’

  ‘I agree,’ I replied, but not wanting them to leave me.

  ‘So we’ll go south to the internment camp,’ Jack said. ‘You and Roy go east and get as far away from here as possible before trying to cross into Canada.’

  ‘Yep,’ I said. ‘This has been the worst holiday we’ve done so far.’

  Jack smiled. ‘Yeah I think you’re right. This one is definitely in last place.’

  ‘You may go on a worse one in the future,’ Beth suggested.

  Jack and I shared a glance and we both shook our heads.

  ‘I doubt it,’ he said.

  ‘Yeah probably not,’ I agreed.

  I think we both knew we’d probably never see each other again.

  ‘I stole all the money out of your pockets,’ Jack said, obviously trying to change the subject. ‘Between us we took over thirteen grand in Canadian dollars.’

  I’d completely forgotten about the money when I casually discarded the coat by the front door.

  ‘Should get you to the east coast with money to spare,’ Beth said.

  ‘Don’t you want half?’ I asked them.

  ‘Nah,’ Jack replied. ‘You’ll need it. And we don’t know if it’ll be taken off us when we enter the camp.’

  ‘Keep a bit of spending money in your pocket,’ Beth said. ‘Then hide the rest in your bag.’

  I nodded. ‘Good idea.’

  ‘We really did want to help you get to the coast,’ Beth told me.

  ‘I know you did, and I appreciate it. I’ll have to make do with Royston.’

  ‘Don’t call him that,’ Beth said. ‘I don’t think he likes it.’

  ‘Definitely calling him it now,’ I told her.

  Once the now clean shaven Roy had finished getting ready, we set off. I’d found another winter coat and a woollen hat to keep my head warm. We were planning to go our separate ways at the place we’d spotted the checkpoint signpost the previous day.

  After remembering the army jeeps that drove past us earlier, we made sure to keep off the main road out of town. Nobody said a word as we struggled through the overgrown fields. In hardly any time at all, we were stood slightly away from the freeway, near to Ali and Theo’s car crash site.

  ‘Here again,’ I said, looking over to the road. ‘I’m getting sick of this spot.’

  ‘Are you sure you don’t want us to walk you back to the camp?’ Roy asked.

  ‘No you two get off,’ Jack replied. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and handed it to me. ‘Take this in case Joanne rings, and you’ll have the map.’

  ‘Are you sure?’ I asked him.

  ‘Yes absolutely sure. It’s yours. I changed the passcode to one two three four.’

  ‘Cheers mate.’

  Jack reached around to his back pocket and passed me the USB cable. ‘Better not forget this.’

  ‘Good luck you two,’ Beth said. ‘When all this blows over we’ll be in touch.’

  I didn’t want to lie to Beth by agreeing to that, so I stepped forwards and hugged her. I did the same to Jack, making sure to blink away any wetness in my eyes before stepping back. ‘Good luck to you two as well. Take care of the baby. He or she will be a Canadian baby. I can’t think of anything derogatory to say about that.’

  ‘We will,’ Jack replied with a smile. ‘Thanks Chris.’

  Roy then said his farewells before we watched them walk to the road. After a quick look both ways, they ran across and disappeared into the trees beyond. Once they were out of sight, we turned and walked in the opposite direction. The only noises were our feet breaking the fallen twigs on the ground.

  I felt hopeless all of a sudden, like I’d never get home without the help of Jack and Beth. Everyone was literally leaving me.

  Neither of us said a word until we left a small area of thickly populated woodland and
came across a runway. Roy pointed out the border fence in the distance.

  ‘That checkpoint will be near here,’ I said. ‘Let’s walk further past this airport and then have a closer look at the fence.’

  Roy agreed, so keeping in the shadows of the trees, we carried on.

  After another long time in silence, Roy said, ‘Beth told me you’ve all been friends for a few years.’

  ‘Yeah about ten years I think. Do you think Beth actually thinks all this will blow over, or was she just saying that?’

  ‘She knew,’ Roy said. ‘She just didn’t want to say goodbye along with saying we’ll probably never see each other again.’

  Roy stopped and looked to our left. ‘This is the end of the runway. Looks like the border follows that freeway.’

  A road ran parallel to the runway. On the other side of it were fields, then another freeway curved away from us. A fence ran along the length of the freeway.

  ‘Yep looks like it,’ I said. ‘Shall we get a bit closer?’

  ‘We have guns aimed at the back of your heads,’ a voice called out from behind us.

  I froze on the spot, a coldness rushing through my whole body.

  ‘Don’t worry, we just want to talk,’ the voice said. ‘Put down your weapons and back up into the trees. Nobody will get hurt.’

  ‘I’ve only got this bat,’ I said, holding up The Smasher.

  ‘I’ve got knives in my bag,’ Roy said. ‘That’s it.’

  ‘Okay. Keep hold of them for now. I’m going to trust you. Just remember the guns aimed at your heads. Now, take five steps backwards and slowly turn around.’

  I took half a step when a different voice ordered, ‘With your hands above your heads.’

  Roy and I both quickly raised our hands.

  ‘Now keep on stepping backwards,’ the first voice instructed.

  ‘This never happened in America,’ I muttered. ‘Twice in one fucking day.’

  ‘Everybody’s dead in America, Dipshit,’ the second voice said.

  ‘Okay, stop there and turn around,’ the first voice told us.

  We slowly spun around until we were facing two women. They looked young, early twenties maybe. The taller one could have been late teens. They both wore identical bright orange coats. I’m amazed we didn’t see them in the woods. The colour of the woollen hats on their heads matched the coats, pulled down to cover their eyebrows.