The bridge. I could swerve into the rails and pop the hood. He’d fall off into the water. Then I could peel out of town before Leona caught up with me. Turn myself into the Feds if I’ve got to!
Kingsley reasoned with himself that his plan was plausible. But was there really any escape? He’d created the first ever medically generated Walking Dead specimen and started a street war in the suburbs of sleepy Shreveport. There was no walking away from this.
Libby’s words haunted him even more than Harrison’s glassy eyes. She was right and he knew it. He could drive to the ends of the Earth and throw himself into the sea. He could go so far as to try and sign up for the next Mars mission! Nowhere in the Universe was far enough to run from Leona. If there had ever been a blackened soul that deserved comparison to the Devil and his angels, it was Leona Kelley.
His mad dash to the Shreveport Bridge was botched. He came sliding in so fast that he had the gas pressed down to the floor with the car’s nose facing one way and he was sliding onto the bridge rear-facing. He twisted the wheel in mania, trying to correct himself. By now the car’s drive shaft was damaged from all the contortions he’d put it through. He came skidding on two wheels to the edge of the bridge.
The car rolled on its head. Kingsley was just making peace with the idea of rolling off into the water and dying that way. It would be so much easier than facing Leona. It wasn’t meant to be after all. Maybe he didn’t deserve such an easy out after the things he’d done.
Harrison had kept himself moving when the car had done its acrobatics. It went wheels up and he climbed over the rolling motion and now stood on the axle. When it careened towards the edge of the bridge, he stepped off and let it slide and pitch forward a ways into the air. Satisfied with the suspenseful position he’d left Kingsley in, he reached out and stopped the back bumper with his heel. The car jerked and came to a stop.
Kingsley suddenly realized he was hanging by his seatbelt. It had knifed into his guts but saved his life at the same time. He couldn’t complain despite his agonizing pain. His injuries were the least of his problems now.
“Yo! Superman!” Seriously, buddy, can you pull me up? Look, man, alright, I know that I screwed up! But I can help you. I can fix this!”
Trying to reason with an undead man was pointless. Kingsley realized quickly that no response was going to come from his lobotomized counterpart. With a sinking feeling, Kingsley realized the desperate low to which he’d sunk.
Harrison glared down on him with an insidious flicker in his eyes. Slow and methodically he eased his heel up off the Maserati’s bumper. Kingsley let out a girlish scream as the car pitched forward, closer to impending death.
Harrison’s mostly expressionless face suddenly blossomed into a vindicated smiled. He reached and pulled the car back up with one god-like powerful hand. It dawned on Kingsley as he watched the sun setting in reverse that Harrison might go on with this toying routine all night. He might be waiting for his death for hours more. Until either Harrison got bored with his game and finally killed him. Or worse, Leona found the both of them and hauled them back to whatever gruesome fate she had devised.
For the first time in his life, Lucien Kingsley honestly regretted his life choices.
He laughed hoarsely to himself as he realized this fact. He felt compelled to do something that he hadn’t done since he was an 18-year-boy, afraid that he might have gotten his then-girlfriend pregnant.
It was time to call in his neurosurgeon father.
*****
Chapter 10
Kingsley’s phone had fallen within his reach on top of his steering wheel. He scraped it up in a trembling hand. Despite their differences, he still had his father on his speed-dial.
“The whole city is on fire, Lu! What did you do this time?!” his Dad shouted into the receiver as he picked up.
“Why do you automatically assume that it’s my fault?!” Kingsley thrashed against his seatbelt. The sudden excruciating pain reminded him that it was cutting into his abdomen.
“Because you never call me unless you’re in trouble.” His father’s injured tone told Kingsley that this would be an exhausting domestic battle before he got what he wanted. Better skip to the chase.
“Okay, dad. Sorry I haven’t called you in 10 years. I’m kind of hanging upside down in my car from the Bridge. So, can we skip touchy-feely time until you bail me outta this?”
“Ha! I love how you assume I’m going to bail you out. The last time you called me, which was 10 years ago, by the way, you wanted to borrow money. After you’d blown all of yours and even lost my car— the one that you stole— playing Poker. When are you ever going to learn to play cards, son?”
The elder Dr. Kingsley was out of breath now.
“Dad, no, this is for real. I’ve really screwed up this time. If you don’t help me, you might even get yourself iced. I’ve crossed paths with Satan’s mother, I swear.”
“Look, I’m sorry for your single-father childhood, okay. Your daddy issues and binge drinking are not a good excuse for knocking up women when you’re 37 years old, Lu. You have good salaries. You can fork over a little for child support. Hell, I raised you on a 12K a year budget. That was before I was done with school. I had you and a mortgage and a dead-end job in Caddo Vitality before I ever became a surgeon. So you’re a grown up. Deal with life.”
“Dad, don’t hang up. Really, this isn’t about an impregnated chick. I’ve gotten in deep with Leona Kelley—”
“Wait, the Leona Kelley. As in, Harrison Kelley the pharmaceutical tycoon’s psycho wife, Leona Kelley?” Dr. Joseph Kingsley finally sat up and took notice of his drunkard son’s ravings.
“Yes, her. She’s more than a psycho, Dad. She is actually a crime boss of an almost exclusively female gang here in Shreveport. She just iced the entire police force. That explains the fire.” Kingsley held his breath waiting for his father’s response.
“Let me guess… You crossed paths with a rich psychopath and when you broke her heart she decided to take it out on the whole world, me included. I’m going to get killed now because you can’t let a girl down easy?!” Joseph was smashing things. Kingsley could hear plates crashing in the background.
“She wanted me to do a procedure…” Kingsley held his breath. The silence on the other line was deafening.
“Oh my God, she didn’t! Please say—” Kingsley heard his father’s boots hit the floor. He’d been sitting on this couch eating his dinner and watching the evening news. Even at 75, when this call came he was already in his coat and on the way to his garage.
“Where’d you say you were again?” Over the receiver, Kingsley could hear the chamber click on his Dad’s Model 29. The old man was coming to the rescue, spry as a teenager and packing heat.
“I’m hanging upside down from the Bridge. The undead heel of enraged Harrison Kelley is keeping me suspended between Here and Hereafter.” Kingsley could hear his voice quaking. He could almost feel his Dad rolling his eyes at his stupidity.
“Good news for you, genius. I only live 5 minutes from the Bridge now. I’m on my way.”
His Dad always forgot to hang up. Kingsley listened as the phone clattered against the old man’s 1970 Aston Martin Vantage’s floorboards.
He heard the engine rev before he pressed the “End Call” button. A wave of relief passed over him. The car jerked as Harrison let it slip toward the river once again.
*****
Chapter 11
She wouldn’t get far on her legs.
Jane’s blood grew colder with every yard she put between herself and where she’d last seen Dex’s van.
She felt the whir of their engines breathing down her neck like dragons.
Jane spun to see that the Shelby and the Jaguar had come for her. They parked at lazy angles in establishments’ shadows. They stalled there, just letting their engines growl.
“Wheels, huh? Want to play Hell’s Angels with me, ladies? Fine.” Jane licked her teeth. An idea had gon
e off like fireworks in her head just when she’d needed it.
There was an old body shop about two miles from the police station. Her ex, Jackson Link, had a 1970 Chevelle parked there now for around a month. The paint job was a fresh new fire engine red. She’d stick out like a cardinal in a nest full of blackbirds, but wheels were wheels.
Two miles was still too far to run when she had the Devil on her heels. Jane ducked her head down. There was no time to be clever. She just darted from alley to alley playing hop-scotch from trash can to trash can and swinging from fire-escape ladders.
She felt a knot forming in her throat. The people she ran past were shouting her name. They could have only learned it one way.
Leona Kelley had spread the word. She could run to the ends of the earth and jump if she dared. There would still be no outrunning her.
Jane laughed. Leona had just assumed she would run scared. She’d seen her kind before. Her father had been a decorated FBI agent, one who’d brought down his share of criminal syndicates. He’d moved her here from the Ozarks as a knee-high child. From New Orleans to Bossier City, he’d busted both pirate and drug rings alike. What was more important than his career was the legacy he’d left in her. He’d taught her how to stand up to bullies, even the most powerful or fearsome like Kelley.
Jane knew that if she couldn’t run forever, then Leona wasn’t always going to be able to hide.
Which is why she had to steal Jackson’s car out of all the hot rides that lined the streets of Shreveport. His was the only ride that she knew of offhand that had a CB radio.
Jane Lewis was ready to make a social call.
It was too easy to break into the body shop. The rolling garage doors weren’t locked.
Stealing the car was harder, more so on Jane’s conscious than anything. It wasn’t to say that she didn’t know how. She’d done it before. Granted it had been to save her father’s life. That had been the same night she’d decided to become a nurse.
Jane scribbled a note on the sticky pad that was affixed to the shop’s vintage clock.
Hiya, Jax. Crazy killer that lit the city on fire was chasing me, no lies. If I live through tonight, I’ll get this back to you. Thanks, Jane.
With a decided nod, Jane hopped inside. Hot wiring it, she peeled out of the garage and into the spark-littered street.
She smirked when she heard Annie’s irritated howling. The stupid hussy that Boss-Lady had wanted captured wasn’t supposed to get wheels!
“I’m here. Now it’s a party.” Jane stuck out her tongue. The tires screamed. Exhaust and the smell of singed carbon rippled through the air. The three of them shot in the shape an uppercase “A” with the Shelby and the Jaguar shooting in vertical paths and Jane crossing the street in a straight line.
Driving with her elbows, Jane started tuning into the CB radio. She was suddenly grateful for those six months DJ elective class she’d taken in college.
“What’s up, Shreveport?! Paging Leona Kelley, please?” Jane figured that a woman like Leona would have access to pretty much every radio frequency in town. She was right.
“You called?” The silky tone of the billionaire’s wife replied over the wire.
“I didn’t have your number. Wanted to call you back, though.”
“Changed your mind? Want to tell me where my husband is before I flambé you and feed you to my cats?”
“Registered Nurse! The other white meat!” Jane’s cocky tone sent ice down the spine of anyone else tuning in.
“You are shockingly naïve, Jane Lewis. Here you’ve leaped into a picture much too big for your mind to even handle. Yet you insist on this teenager’s attitude!” Leona’s voice crackled with irritation. With Jane and only with Jane, she was losing. This incited a jealousy she couldn’t cope with.
“Well, hey, I’m only 24. Still a bit young, probably still a bit reckless. I might be many things, but naïve isn’t one of them. I’ll never outrun you. You could come after me with a dune buggy and I’d still never beat you in this race. If I can’t run, then you can’t hide. It’s time for you to come out to the street, Little Spider. If we’re going to Tango we might as well do it in the spotlight, so they’ll know who to blame for this burning City.”
There was radio silence for a long moment. Jane swallowed. Her plan might not be so Gangbusters after all. Still she had to try. Her friends’ lives were hanging in the balance. That was worth risking her skin being made into a hot dish for kittens.
Suddenly a ‘56 Ford Fairlane came shrieking into the street. Jane heard something under the hood that hadn’t belonged to the original car.
For a moment, it purred in the dark like an aloof lynx, not showing its full danger at first. Jane had a sick hesitation in her stomach. The car came at a jerking stop-start shriek into the light. Then she could see and she felt her lips twist in horror.
The body of the solid black car was laced with a purple- red lacquer. Even from this distance, she knew that the indelible stains were not from paint. Leona Kelley had etched flame decals onto her ride with human blood. To crown it all, she had taken the bones from a singed human hand and mounted it as a dash piece.
Jane’s cell rang then.
“Don’t look so surprised. You invited me, remember?” Leona laughed into the receiver.
*****
Chapter 12
He crunched the Vantage’s brakes as it skidded onto the bridge. Harrison turned around, holding the Maserati by its back bumper. Even in his hazy, half-asleep awareness, he recognized Dr. Joseph and felt his anger dissipate.
“Easy, hot shot. Can you set that car back on solid ground while we talk this out like men?” Dr. Joseph slid out of the car, hands high in the air. He’d had the wisdom to tuck his Model 29 back into his belt.
With one hand, Harrison hauled the Maserati back onto the pavement. It landed heavily on its roof and sagged like a spoiled loaf of bread. Kingsley was thrashing trying to break himself free of the knifing seat-belt.
“Looks like my overgrown brat has really done a number on you, Harry.” Joseph’s face was twisted in horrified disgust. He’d really like to bust Lucien’s chops for this one.
Harrison slumped up to Joseph. His face was pinched with a painful expression. He knew something was wrong. Why couldn’t he tell Joseph what happened? He couldn’t force himself to talk. The words were swimming in his brain like alphabet soup, even though he could feel them there dying to be heard.
“What did you do to him?!” Joseph beat on the roof of the Maserati. He could quickly see that Lucien wasn’t coming out of the car on his own. Rolling his head on his neck, he whipped the Model 29 out again and shot the seat belt. Kingsley went rolling across the blacktop, moaning in pain.
“What did you do to him? Eh? Better be straight up with me, kid!”
Kingsley laid flat on his belly whining.
“Hey!” his dad barked in annoyance and rolled him over with the tip of his toes.
“Sold your wolf tickets to Leona Kelley, eh sport? This was the end result, huh? God, you look like you’ve been put through a blender. I raised you better than this!” Joseph glared at his son in disappointed rage.
“What did you do? Speak up, before I break your face!”
“I euthanized him!” Kingsley practically wailed.
Joseph looked at Harrison. His eyes were pleading for the right to speak, but he just couldn’t form intelligible words to open his mouth.
Joseph growled in exasperation and hauled Kingsley to his feet. He grabbed his shoulders, making him stand up straight. The visible relief on his son’s face made him feel sick. Not so much because he was infuriated by his murderously cavalier lifestyle, although that was certainly a large part of it. It scared him how much his 36-year-old son still depended on him.
“Cleary didn’t work.” Joseph shook his son with more strength than most 75-year-olds could boast of.
“You’re the best neurosurgeon I know, Dad! If anybody can fix Harrison’s bizarre medical
condition, it’s you!” Kingsley nodded with fiercely blind faith.
Joseph collared his son.
“I’m half ready to chin-check you, but then you’d have to take swings at me and maybe break a nail. What the hell, Lu? You tried to off Harrison Kelley! The man’s done more for the world than the both of us combined could ever cook up in our wildest dreams.”
Harrison smiled. Joseph looked sidelong at him realizing that despite his lethargic, mute behavior he was obviously self-aware. He made a mental note of this.
“Okay, if you won’t help me, then move. I have to get him back to Leona... I’m dog meat if I don’t!” Kingsley tried to dive at Harrison.
Joseph did clean his son’s clock then. Lucien took a step back, clutching at his chin and blinking in stupid confusion.
“You give him back to her and she’ll kill him.” Joseph rubbed his palms together implying that he was ready to fight Lucien all night if it came to that.
“Well, I opted originally to have you fix him. I don’t want to go to prison any longer than I have to. If you can’t or won’t then my only option is to have her kill him.”
Joseph laughed hotly and swaggered on weary knees. 10 years hadn’t been a long enough break from this unbelievable child.
“Understand something, son. I’m going to find a way to reverse whatever you’ve done to Harry here. Then you are most definitely going to prison, hopefully for the rest of your life. Where at least I know you’ll be out of trouble when I take the Big Sleep.”
With that, he turned to face Harrison.
“You can hear me, right? If you can then shake your head.”
With Titan difficulty, Harrison bowed his head up and down. Joseph smiled.
“Fascinating. Here I’d given you up for dead. Apologies, my friend.”
Harrison reached out and grabbed Joseph’s hand. He pressed his palm flat against his chest. Joseph’s eyes went wide. For emphasis, Harrison made him take his lack of pulse at his throat and wrists too. Now Joseph could see that he wasn’t breathing either and felt that his skin was clammy.
The Good Death Box Set: A Hard SciFi Science Fiction Series Page 5
