Sleep Disorders

by Mark Lukens

  “We need to get out of here,” Alicia said.

  “You don’t have to keep going with this,” I told her, still panting from our run.

  “What the hell else am I supposed to do?”

  I felt like she’d just slapped me. I was about to say something, but I clamped my mouth shut. What could I say? What use was it wasting time apologizing for her being here? It was far too late for that. Maybe I could apologize later, if we lived that long.

  Alicia had caught her breath quicker than I had. She looked up and down the back of the stores, just block walls with metal doors set into them. There were other dumpsters farther down. On the other side of the alley were different kinds of fencing that marked the ends of backyards: wooden fences, some old and rotting, others new and painted, some chain-link fencing. A dog was barking behind one of the wooden fences.

  “I’ve got an idea,” Alicia said. “Let me use your cell phone for a minute.”

  I dug the phone out of my pocket and handed it to her.

  She looked something up, then took out the pad of paper and pen from her purse and wrote a phone number down.

  “Let’s go around to the front,” she said after she was done.

  I just nodded and followed her around to the side of the building and then around to the front. We passed a few shops, and I saw that Alicia was heading toward a laundromat on the end. We went inside. Alicia looked around and then spotted an older woman folding some clothes on one of the plastic tables shoved up against the far wall.

  “Excuse me,” Alicia said. “I’m sorry. We lost our phone and we need to call an Uber driver to pick us up. Do you think we could use your phone?”

  The woman looked a little startled at first, but then her features softened.

  “I’m really sorry,” Alicia said, smiling. “We just need to get home. Someone stole our phone.”

  “People nowadays,” the woman grumbled. She took her cell phone out of her purse and handed it to Alicia.

  Alicia had memorized the phone number she’d written down and then she called for an Uber driver, telling them the address of the laundromat.

  “Thank you so much,” I told the older woman. “You’re a lifesaver.”

  “It’s no problem,” she said. “I barely use the damn thing. My daughter got it for me and makes me carry it around.”

  “She sounds like she cares about you,” I said.

  The woman smiled and nodded. “Yeah.”

  Alicia handed the phone back to the woman, thanking her, and then she looked at me. “The driver will be here in ten minutes. He’s driving a white Honda.”

  “Okay.”

  We walked back to the glass doors and waited on the plastic chairs near them. I watched the street outside as we sat there, watching for black SUVs driving by. I saw a few in the traffic, but I couldn’t be sure if it was them or not.

  Alicia used a five-dollar-bill that the older woman wouldn’t take from us for letting us use her phone to buy two drinks from a vending machine. We sucked them down as we waited. A TV was mounted up on a wooden platform in the corner, and it didn’t look too safe. The sound wasn’t up very loud, but I could tell it was some kind of daytime TV show. But then there was breaking news and my heart stopped for just a moment as I stared at my face and then Alicia’s face on the screen. Then a split screen with both of our faces and a description of us underneath. A newsfeed was scrolling across the bottom of the screen.

  I nudged Alicia and nodded at the TV.

  She inhaled harshly and then seemed to be holding her breath for just a moment.

  As she watched the news alert on the TV, I looked around, making sure the few other people in the laundromat weren’t paying attention to the newsflash. It didn’t seem like they were.

  A few minutes later a white Honda pulled up into the parking lot. We popped up from our seats and hurried outside.

  I was wary as I approached the car, wondering if there was a way the cabal had intercepted Alicia’s phone call. I knew I was being paranoid—they couldn’t be that good, could they? Still, I was tense, ready to bolt if I saw other vehicles pulling in or a man in a dark suit and sunglasses getting out of the Honda.

  “Kendrick?” Alicia asked, leaning down to the passenger window as it rolled down.

  I saw a young man behind the wheel. He smiled and nodded at us. “Alicia?” he said.

  “Yes.” She glanced back at me.

  We both got into the back seat.

  Alicia gave Kendrick an address on beachside. He punched some information into his smart phone, and then we were off, pulling out into traffic.

  I saw a black SUV speed right past us; I was sure it was one of their vehicles. I turned and watched the vehicle pull into the plaza where we’d just been, the truck driving past the shops slowly.

  It had been that close. We needed to put some distance between us and them.

  I looked at Alicia. I wanted to ask her where we were going. It wasn’t the motel where we’d stayed, where my truck was still parked. I knew we couldn’t go back there. But I didn’t want to talk in front of Kendrick.

  He drove in silence, constantly glancing down at his cell phone in his lap. Then he looked at us in the rearview mirror like he was studying us. I saw his eyes widen just a bit as he locked eyes with me in the mirror, then he looked away quickly.

  I realized what he was looking at on his phone—a news alert about us.

  CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

  I knew we were moments away from Kendrick the Uber driver calling 911 and letting them know that fugitives from the law had just hitched a ride in his car.

  We needed to get out of there.

  I looked at Alicia, locking eyes with her. I could tell that she’d seen the same thing I had.

  “Kendrick,” I said.

  He looked up and met my eyes in the rearview mirror, startled for just a second.

  “We’ve changed our minds about going to the beachside.”

  “Oh. Okay.”

  I was already digging my wallet out of my pants pocket as I looked around. We’d only driven a few miles, not as much distance from our pursuers as I wanted, but we needed to get out. I was sure Kendrick was in the middle of either sending a text or an email to the police. I spotted a car for sale along the side of the road, an older Ford Taurus with weathered paint and a big cardboard sign inside the windshield with a price of nine hundred dollars.

  “Right up here,” I told Kendrick. “We need to get off up there.”

  “Right there?” he asked, pointing at the corner where a small side street met the road we were on.

  “Yes. That’s perfect. You can just pull over right there.”

  “How much for the ride?” Alicia asked.

  “Oh, uh, there’s a minimum of fifteen dollars.” He almost seemed to be apologizing.

  I pulled out a twenty-dollar bill and a ten. I handed both to him. I knew it probably wasn’t a good idea to leave too big a tip—it made people remember you—but I already knew that Kendrick had already recognized us, so it didn’t matter.

  “I don’t need any change,” I told him as he took the money. He was parked on the side of the road now.

  “Thanks for the ride,” I told him.

  He nodded, still nervous, like he expected one of us to pull a gun on him.

  We got out and walked away from his car.

  “He saw us on the news,” Alicia said. “Didn’t he? On his phone.”

  I shrugged. “Probably. Maybe he checks it in case somebody on the run gets into his car.” Somebody like us, I thought. “Let’s keep walking down this street until he goes away.”

  Alicia nodded. “Did you have a reason for stopping here, or did you just want to get out of his car as quickly as possible?”

  I looked back at Kendrick’s car as we walked away. He was parked there for a moment, no doubt sending his text or email to the police, but then he drove away.

  “Yeah,” I said, finally answering Alicia’s question. I stopped wal
king. “We need a car. I just saw one we could get.” I looked up the street at the car for sale.

  “We can’t buy a car,” she said. “That’s going to leave a paper trail.”

  “I know. We’re not going to exactly be buying it.”

  We hurried back up to the main road and then a few houses down where I’d seen the Ford Taurus parked in the front yard. I practically ran up to the front door, praying that the owner of the car was home.

  A moment later an older man answered the door, opening it up wide. He was tall and heavy, his hair and thick mustache silver. He had dazzlingly blue eyes set deep in his wrinkled face. He wore an old stained T-shirt and pants that were held up by red suspenders. “Help you?” he asked.

  “Yes, sir. I’m interested in the car you have for sale.”

  His face brightened just a bit, and he nodded. “Okay.”

  “Yeah, the price seems reasonable. I was wondering if we could take a look at it.” I was nervous and talking too fast. I was trying to slow myself down, trying to act natural, but I felt like a clock was ticking inside my brain, ticking down the seconds until the SUVs came pulling up and screeching to a halt alongside the road.

  And I had to be careful. This man might have been inside watching TV, catching the breaking news about the two desperate criminals on the run, the ones who were probable suspects in the murder of two men in an RV park.

  “Okay,” the man said. “Hold on a sec, let me just go get the keys.”

  He closed the door, and it seemed like it took him an hour to come back.

  Alicia and I walked over to the car. I peered in through the windows, studying the inside, trying to act like someone who wanted to buy this car. The interior was a little torn up, but not too bad. The car was dark blue, but the paint was fading from years under the Florida sun. The tires looked okay and there was a big dent in the rear quarter panel.

  “We need to test drive this car,” I told Alicia. “You need to go with me. Just us. We’ll give him half of the money to hold so he isn’t suspicious.”

  She nodded, but didn’t look so sure this was going to work.

  I didn’t know what else to do. We could keep going on foot, or try to get on a city bus. But sooner or later someone was going to spot us. I felt bad for what we were about to do. I wanted to leave more than just half of the money for the car, but I was afraid he would get too suspicious if I handed him more money. I made a mental note of his address, swearing to myself that I would send him the rest of the money in the mail tomorrow.

  Finally, the older man came out of his house, shuffling slowly down the walkway that divided his small front yard.

  “Uh, is there anything wrong with the car?” I asked.

  “Not really,” he said. “It’s an older car, but it runs just fine.”

  “The air-conditioner works?” I asked. I didn’t really care if the A/C worked or not, I was just trying to ask the normal things a potential buyer would ask.

  “Yes, the air works just fine.” He pushed a button on the key fob and the door locks popped up. “It’s got over a hundred and eighty thousand miles on it, but we’ve kept the oil changed every five thousand miles. It’s got a new radiator and water pump in it—just put that in a year ago.”

  “Mind if I sit down inside?” I asked, struggling to slow my speech down. I glanced around at the street.

  “No, not at all. Go ahead and sit down inside.”

  I looked at Alicia. We both got inside the car.

  The man handed the keys to me through the open door. I stuck the ignition key in and started the car. It cranked right up, the motor purring. I shut the door. It was roasting inside the car and I rolled the windows down and then turned the air conditioner on; it blew hot air at first, but it was beginning to cool off in seconds.

  We only had a few more minutes before they showed up—I was sure of that, and I was doing my best not to panic.

  I tried the radio. I popped the hood and got out, looking over the engine like I had any idea of what I was studying. “Everything looks good to me.”

  “Yes, it was a dependable car for us.”

  “You take cash?”

  “Oh yes. Of course.” He smiled. “Cash is king, as they say.”

  “I’d like to test drive it first,” I told him. “Would that be okay?”

  The first signs of wariness crept into his expression. “Sure,” he said.

  I walked back to the driver’s side and sat down.

  “Both of you?” he asked.

  I looked at him.

  “I’m going to have to keep your girlfriend here with me as collateral,” he said. “Make sure you don’t run off with my car.”

  Shit!

  I stared at him, my mind racing as I tried to figure out a way to get out of there. Alicia was already in the car with me. I thought for a second about shifting into drive and stomping my foot down on the gas pedal, tearing out of his yard with his hand still clutching the open door, perhaps dragging the poor old man across his front yard.

  I had my wallet in my hand, pulling out three of the one-hundred-dollar bills. “I . . . I could leave some money with you . . .”

  The man broke into a braying laughter, his wrinkles deeper, his skin red. “I’m just pulling your leg, son. You should have seen your face just now.”

  I smiled, but it felt like a strange thing on my face right then.

  “Your girlfriend as collateral,” he said, shaking his head. “That was a good one all right.”

  “I’m just going to drive it around the block a few times,” I said, the money still in my hand. “We’ll be back in five minutes. We’re not going to take your car.”

  “It’s not exactly a Rolls Royce,” the man said.

  I thrust the three bills at him. “Look, sir. I really want to buy this car. I just need to drive it for a few minutes first. Take this as a sign of my intent.”

  “I trust you,” he said.

  I still had my hand stretched out toward him, the bills crumpled in my fingers too tightly. I kept my hand out like I was frozen, not sure what to do.

  “Zach,” Alicia said, a wooden smile on her face. “He doesn’t want the money yet.” She looked past me at the older man. “Sorry. We’ll be right back.”

  The older man backed away so I could shut the driver’s door.

  “Go ahead and take her for a spin. Do some burnouts and take it off-road if you want to.” He laughed again.

  I shifted into drive and pulled out to the edge of the yard, out to the street. I saw a black SUV a few blocks away, heading toward us.

  “You see it?” Alicia said.

  “Yeah,” I told her. “We gotta go.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

  I pulled out onto the street and punched the gas. The car picked up speed pretty quickly, the air-conditioner already cooling the car down just a little even though my skin was still burning with fear. I kept my hands on the steering wheel, not daring to turn around and look behind me. I stared at the rearview mirror as I drove faster. I saw the black SUV getting to the old man’s house, then passing it, turning onto the small road where Kendrick the Uber driver had dropped us off.

  “Did they see us?” Alicia asked. She looked too scared to turn around.

  “I don’t know. They turned down that side road.”

  I wanted to turn down a side road, too. I wanted to get off of this street, but I made myself keep driving. It would take a few minutes before those guys realized we weren’t down that side street. And then it would take maybe fifteen or twenty minutes before the old man realized we weren’t coming back with his Ford Taurus and called the police. We had maybe an hour before the cops put out an APB on this car.

  “That address you gave the Uber driver,” I said to Alicia, “where was that?”

  She shrugged. “Something I looked up on your phone. Somewhere on the beachside. I figured he would get us over there, drop us off, and then we would find another way to a motel. Take a bus or walk.”


  I nodded.

  “So you suspected the Uber driver recognized us,” I told her.

  “I could tell he was nervous.”

  I nodded in agreement.

  “We should change our clothes,” Alicia said. “Our hair, too.”

  I drove for two more blocks. “We’ll stop up there. Get a change of clothes for each of us, a bag to put everything in, and a few other things.”

  She nodded, not answering. She looked dazed, like she was just hanging on for the ride. She finally turned around and looked out through the rear window.

  “See them?” I asked.

  “No,” she said, turning back around.

  I pulled into the thrift store parking lot, feeling a thrift store would be safer than a regular store, somewhere we could pay in cash and probably not be remembered. We split up once we were inside. I found a pair of brightly colored shorts, two T-shirts, one advertising Daytona—the world’s most famous beach; clothes that might make me look like a tourist. I also found a pack of brand-new socks, a Florida Marlins baseball cap, and a pair of sunglasses. Alicia was still looking through the clothes, so I went to the tool section, finding a few screwdrivers and a pair of pliers—I would need those to get another license plate off of another car to switch with ours.

  I found a decent-looking duffel bag to put everything in.

  Fifteen minutes later we were at the cash register where an ancient-looking volunteer rang up our items for us. I paid for the items and we hurried out to the car.

  After twenty more minutes of driving, I pulled in behind a small business and parked next to an old car that looked like it had been parked there for a long time. Alicia was the lookout while I switched the tags, putting the Taurus’s tag on the old car and putting that tag on our Ford. Then we were off again.

  “I’ve committed more felonies in the last hour than I have in my whole life,” I said as I drove.

  Alicia just looked at me.

  “You have a motel in mind?” I asked her.

  “Maybe we shouldn’t go to the beachside. We should find a motel on Ridgewood, some seedy place where they won’t ask a lot of questions. A place that takes cash.”