by Dave Conifer
The oncoming traffic made her hesitate, but not for long. The car shot into the street so wildly that Jonas worried for a moment that they would run up onto the far sidewalk. Reno quickly straightened it out and skillfully avoided a collision. The other black Impala appeared from the other direction in a line of cars as Reno approached the intersection. “There they are,” Jonas said. “Good. Time to get this done.” The light turned red just as they reached it.
“Run it!” Jonas said. “We want to attract attention now anyway,” he explained after they sped through the intersection and onto the bridge. “We need the police now that we’ve been found. Trust me. You’ll see. We just might be okay after all.” He picked up the silver pistol from the floor and let it settle into his palm. Plenty of traffic on the bridge. Good, lots of people watching.
Reno watched in ho rror from behind the wheel as Jonas rolled down his window and leaned out. Securing the gun in his right hand, he held onto the window post and swung out until he was visible to traffic coming the other way on the bridge. As each car passed he pointed the gun at the driver. The first two drivers swerved away, one grazing the wall of the bridge and bouncing back across the lane. The driver of the fourth somehow appeared to be unfazed until he broadsided the car that suddenly appeared in his path. As a fifth car rushed past Jonas raised the gun and fired three shots across its hood and into the river.
“What are you doing?” Reno yelled at him after he pulled himself back inside. “What’s going on?”
“When we get about three quarters across, stop the car,” Jonas said. “Just stop on a dime, right in the road.” He looked back at the shoreline they’d come from. Not surprisingly, nobody had followed very closely after he’d started shooting. “They should be back there by now, but I can’t see them.”
“Why stop on the bridge? We’ve almost gotten away.”
“Not really. They’re still right with us. They’d still run us down. Now, after I get out don’t worry about me. Just get out of here. I’ll be on foot so I can hide easy. You know the rest.”
“What about you? What are you going to do?”
He held up his gun. “We need a big scene so Braden will have to back off. The police are probably on their way already. There’s a maniac on the bridge, right? If everybody’s watching we’re a lot safer. Now! Stop the car now!”
She brought the car to a stop without asking any more questions. They were no more than thirty yards from the Westover end of the bridge. He picked up the black pistol and shoved it onto her lap. “It feels like it’s loaded. See you in a few minutes. Go!” he shouted after stepping out of the car onto the bridge.
He hopped out of the car and moved to the edge of the bridge where he pressed against the side rail while Reno drove away. Traffic had come to a halt on the bridge. That changed just after Jonas looked back towards Morgantown and saw a dark sedan break noisily out from the line of cars and speed towards him. Did I get out before they saw me?
He could hear police sirens wailing in the distance. They hear it too, he thought. They’ll try something fast. They have to. He moved behind a concrete pillar that provided partial shelter, but he knew that they would see him if they knew to look. Gray smoke and the smell of burning rubber filled the air as the Impala skidded to a stop. Jonas recognized Sideburns in the passenger seat, brandishing a gun. Before he was able to take aim Jonas shot wildly from his hip with his own weapon, but after two errant shots he was out of ammunition. He dropped the empty gun and pressed his body against the pillar in desperation as he saw the pistol pointed at him. Maybe he’ll miss.
Instead of squeezing the trigger, Sideburns flinched and hunkered down in his seat. At the same instant the windshield turned to a white haze of flying glass as the staccato sound of gunfire briefly drowned out the approaching sirens.
Whatever had happened, Jonas knew Sideburns wouldn’t be distracted for long. There was only one direction to go if he didn’t want to die. As he lifted his leg high enough to slide over the rail he recalled Rob telling him about leaping from the bridge at Cheat Lake. This can’t be much higher than that. He gritted his teeth and threw himself at the river. While plummeting toward the water he became aware of a searing pain in his right thigh. There was only one explanation he could think of. After all the dangers he’d managed to survive, this time he hadn’t been so lucky. He’d been shot.
-- Chapter 44 --
Jonas thought his body would never stop rushing toward the river bottom. He opened his eyes long enough to determine that the water was far too murky to see anything. The breath in his lungs was spent by the time his descent stopped. Inertia seemed to hold him in place forever. Blocking out the pain in his thigh, he thrashed at the water trying to propel his body upward. As his body rose he sensed warmth and light. He fought the hysterical urge to open his mouth and inhale. Finally he reached the surface and sucked in fresh air as he bobbed in the gentle waves of the river.
The current had drawn him under the bridge and out of view. His world was eerily quiet until the water dripped out of his ears, but after he could hear he realized that the sirens were much louder. The police must have reached the bridge. He could only hope that Reno had already left the scene. He knew he needed to escape too. Sideburns wasn’t the only one who had seen him leap into the river. There were plenty of witnesses up on the bridge who would be happy to talk to the police. It wouldn’t be long before somebody was looking in the river for him.
He dog-paddled towards the shore, making sure to stay between the bridge pilings. When he felt the weeds of the riverbed brushing against his legs he tried to stand but the soft muck on the bottom wouldn’t support his weight. A few strokes later he tested it again and found it to be firm. He scrambled onto dry land and up the embankment beneath the steel trusses that supported the roadway. Without pausing he scurried from under the bridge into the wooded riverbank.
He wanted to stop and check out his leg but there was no time. As he thrashed through the trees and brush he worried about the wound. He’d never been shot before. It ached in a way that he’d never felt, and he knew that the river had washed it with filth. Worrying about it wasn’t something he could afford to do yet but he knew that bullet had to come out, and soon.
After he’d put a quarter of a mile between himself and the bridge he peeked back through the trees. At least a dozen police cruisers with flashing lights were now parked along the length of the span. Several figures peered over the side into the green Monongahela. He wondered how easily they would pick up his trail through the woods once they understood where he’d gone. The notion of being chased by police dogs was terrifying.
He knew Reno well enough to be confident that she’d gotten off that bridge safely. He was far more worried about Sideburns than the police when it came to her fate. But if all had gone well, she was probably making her way through the woods on her way to the rental car at that very moment.
Fifteen minutes later he was panting after some strenuous, painful limping. His arms and face were criss-crossed with scratches from tree limbs and bushes. Shielded from the warmth of the sun, he shivered in his wet clothing. Worst of all, pain shot through his leg with every step despite the walking stick he’d picked up along the way.
After twenty more minutes of laborious trekking without finding the warehouse he wondered if he’d somehow missed it. As he stood and considered his next move he was startled by the sound of sirens. They were too loud to be coming all the way from the bridge. According to Rob, there was a road running parallel to the river. That must be where it’s coming from. Did the cops close in on me this quickly? Does that mean they already grabbed Abby?
He hadn’t gone very far inland since leaving the bridge. The sparkling river was still within sight through the trees. On the opposite bank he could see the gritty brick and stone Morgantown skyline with the university clinging to the hills behind it. He didn’t worry about the police seeing him in the woods but he decided he’d made a mistake by not finding the
road sooner. The road would have led him directly to the warehouse. He turned and walked away from the river as the sirens faded. He couldn’t hear them anymore by the time he reached the road.
The appearance of the police on that road rattled him, so much so that he stopped and sat on a log to gather his wits. He squeezed the wound, as if the bullet could be forced out like a splinter, but it only brought an acute burst of pain.
While he rested he speculated about what was happening. Reno was most likely long gone before the police reached the bridge, so they probably didn’t even know she existed. Sideburns did, but there was no reason for him to tell the police about her, if in fact he had stayed long enough to encounter them at all. If the police had found anybody to chase, it was probably Sideburns, he decided. There was still hope. If he could stick to the plan and meet up with Reno at the rental car, they could still survive.
He stayed in the trees along the road and moved back in the direction of the bridge until he saw a gray shape that just had to be the warehouse. It all adds up, he thought as he moved closer. I walked right past it. Occasional traffic moved along the road but he ignored it, knowing he couldn’t be seen. Just before he reached the tree line near the warehouse he stopped abruptly. He was in the right place. The warehouse was there. The green Plymouth was there. Unfortunately, a busy contingent of police had beaten him to it.
All the doors were open, as well as the trunk. As he watched from the trees police officers and detectives crawled all over it. Relief that Reno had gotten that far battled with concern that the car had been found so quickly. But now that he knew she’d reached the warehouse he was even more hopeful that she’d already crossed the road and may even have reached the rendezvous point. All he had to do was to get there himself, and he knew he’d better hurry. With all that law enforcement at the warehouse, it was only a matter of time before they fanned out into the woods.
The pain from the bullet wound was worsening and he wished he could take a break, but there was no time. He struggled through the woods until the warehouse was nearly out of view and then moved back toward the road. After allowing a car to pass he threw away the stick and walked stiff-legged to the other side where he disappeared into the trees with only a vague idea of where he was heading. By then he could only drag the leg. With each step it scraped through the leaves that littered the ground, leaving an easy trail for anybody who might be looking for it.
Not long after the warehouse and the road had passed from view behind him he was sure he was lost. Rob had given him the impression that cutting through the woods after crossing the road wouldn’t take very long, but it wasn’t turning out that way. There was nothing he could do but to push on, because one thing he knew for sure was that he wouldn’t find the Texaco station by standing still. He headed for a bright spot far ahead, hoping for a lucky break.
The clearing he’d set his sights on was elusive. No matter how far he walked it never got any closer. But chasing it turned out to be a good idea anyway. He came across another narrow asphalt road with a double yellow line running down the center. Just up the crumbling road was a small brick building with a rusty Texaco sign in front. He’d made it. Before hobbling the rest of the way he jammed a damp, muddy hand into his pocket to make sure the car keys were still there.
Conveniently, the station didn’t appear to be open. In fact, it looked like it hadn’t been open in years. He walked past a bank of weather-beaten gas pumps and around to the side of the building, not completely sure what he was looking for. Reno was nowhere to be seen but that didn’t concern him. Even if she’d made it there he knew she was savvy enough to stay out of sight.
A pale yellow Buick Skylark was parked on the side along a chipped concrete curb. That’s got to be the one, he thought as he approached it. Otherwise we’re screwed. It was at least ten years old, probably fifteen, and not exactly what he had in mind when Rob told him he’d rented a car, but it would suffice so long as it was in working order. The door was unlocked so he pulled it open and slid in, grimacing when his thigh brushed against the steering wheel. The key slid perfectly into the ignition. He tried not to be melodramatic as he turned it but he knew this was a make or break moment. The engine started almost immediately. “Thank you, Rob,” he said aloud, leaning his head back and closing his eyes.
When he opened them he saw her in the rear view mirror, approaching from behind the building. She carried the walkie-talkie in one hand and her gun in the other. It had only been an hour or two since they’d gone separate ways on the bridge but it was almost like he was seeing her for the first time in days. Leaving the engine running, he stepped back out of the car with his good leg and pulled the bad one out behind him. Neither spoke as Reno eyed his leg. When she reached the car she wrapped her arms around him and squeezed. Then she backed away. “Thank God,” she said, tears spilling from her eyes. “I don’t know how you did it. They had you point blank, Joe. I didn’t know what I was going to do until I saw you come around the building.”
“That was you shooting, wasn’t it?” Jonas asked. “That’s what gave me a chance.”
“Yeah, it was me, but where did you go?”
“Into the river. Where else could I go? Lucky for me you were armed. Damn if I didn’t think you’d never shot a gun before.”
“Any girl from Texas could do the same thing,” she said, beaming through her tears. “Any girl with brothers, anyway. Did you get hit? That looks like blood. You sure go through a lot of clothes.”
“I got hit before I went over the rail,” he told her as he touched his muddy thigh with a palm. “It hurts like hell. Do you mind driving?”
“Of course not,” she said, wiping her eyes. “But what are we going to do about that leg? We can’t really take you to the hospital, can we?”
“No. But I’ll have to do something about it soon. Right now I’m just happy to be alive.” He limped around the car and climbed into the passenger seat. She climbed in on the other side and pulled her door shut.
“The first thing we need to do is get it cleaned up,” she said. “All that mud’s making it worse.”
“Let’s just get out of here. The cops were already all over your car. That’ll be a shitload of trouble for Rob and his friend but that’s not our problem anymore. The cops are. We can’t wait around for them.” He pulled the sheaf of papers from his pocket but they tore apart in his hands, waterlogged and useless. “I think I remember what Rob told me,” he said as he flung them onto the floor. “Just make a right out of here.”
“You know,” she said after they were moving. “I interviewed one of those survivalist guys about a year ago. He said they got shot all the time when they were out hunting. He told me how to fix up a gunshot wound. I think I could do it but I’d need some tweezers or something. You have to rotate the bullet while you pull it out, he told me. Then you have to disinfect the hell out of it. But we don’t even have a band-aid.”
“This isn’t the time,” Jonas said. “We have to run. We’re close, Abby, we’re close. I can last. Look! Go left!” he said when he saw the red and blue Interstate 79 sign. They could see the white ribbon of interstate up ahead in the valley ahead after they turned. Three minutes later they rolled up an exit ramp and merged into traffic, attracting no attention at all in the nondescript Buick. They were away.
-- Chapter 45 --
“Where to?” Reno asked.
“I have no idea,” Jonas answered. “Where can we go? I feel like if they still want us, they’ll always be able to find us. Our only hope is if the right people read our story and Braden’s ERC boys gets nailed.”
“Even if they do give up, we’ll never know about it,” she agreed. “There’s no end.” She looked at his wound again. “We need to stop for some supplies so we can take care of that leg of yours.”
“Let’s go a few zillion miles first. It doesn’t hurt that bad now that I’m not walking. It’s not worth letting them catch up.”
“We shouldn’t wait too long.
Maybe I can get that bullet out if I can keep from barfing.”
“You’re not in such great shape either,” he pointed out.
“If we find a store I’ll grab some aspirin.”
He picked up the walkie-talkie and switched it on. “Just in case they’re on the air,” he said. “Any information we can get can’t hurt.”
~~~
There was a lot to talk about but neither of them had the energy to start a conversation. After a half hour of quiet Reno finally spoke, just as Jonas was thinking about how to get some clean clothes. “Bad news, Joe. We’re going to run out of gas soon. As a matter of fact we’re on ‘E.’ Running on empty.”
Jonas craned his neck to look at the gauge. “Well, I did say it wasn’t exactly Avis. Shit. Shit. Rob’s first fuck up.”
“We’ll just have to stop for gas,” Reno said. “And we have to do it the next chance we get. No use debating it because we have no choice.”
“Why wouldn’t those dumb-asses gas it up?” Jonas snarled.
“I never met any of the dumb-asses, but except for this they’ve done pretty well,” Reno said. “I’d say they saved our hides.”
“This was pretty damn dumb.”
“After all we’ve been through, this is nothing. Relax, will you? I saw a sign for rest stop. We won’t even have to leave the highway. They’ll probably have one of those mini stores so I can go in and look for the stuff we need. It’ll be good. You’ll see.”
“Make sure you pull your hair across that gash before you go in. You don’t need any extra attention.”
Four miles later she pulled into the rest stop and headed for the gas pumps. “I’ll go to full serve so you don’t even have to get out,” she said. “It’s better if nobody sees you. You look like hell.”
“Same to you.”
“I’ll run inside and see what they’ve got.”
