Run With Me

by Shorter, L. A.

  She pulls back quickly and eyes me sheepishly. “Sorry, I shouldn't have...”

  Now it's my turn to cut her off. I pull her in and kiss her deep, her lips wet and salty with tears. When we part both her lips and eyes are smiling and the tears are gone. “That's twice now you've kissed me as a thank you,” I say with a wink.

  Her reaction is priceless. Eyes wide, semi state of shock mingled with embarrassment, head shaking slightly. You'd think that with all she's been through a case of being caught out stealing a kiss would be the least of her concerns.

  “You were awake!” she says, her expression quickly turning accusatory.

  I can't help but release a hearty laugh. “I wanted to spare you the shame. If I'd have woken up you'd probably have had a heart attack!”

  “I can't believe you knew,” she says, still shaking her head in admonishment.

  “Well, it wasn't really the time for all that,” I say, still chuckling a little. “We had a job to do.”

  The words have an immediate impact on both of us. A job to do. She knows there's still work to be done. Run, hide, change her identity, just like before. This time, though, it's only the police that we need to evade. But she doesn't know the rest. The final job I need to fulfill. Teddy Klein, the man who ordered the arson attack on my house, the attack that lead to the deaths of my family. That's the final job I'll do before turning straight. The job that will give me some closure before starting a new life.

  Our expressions both grow more glum, lose their life. The brief period of levity following everything that's happened has been replaced with the realization that it's not over yet.

  “So....what now?” Kitty asks, voicing what we're both thinking.

  “We move. I know another guy who can help set you up with a new life. I...I found Dale.” I assume she already knows, but can't be sure until her eyes show sorrow.

  “I'm so sorry about him,” she says. “I don't know how Rugger found him.”

  I shake my head and lightly shrug my shoulders. It's something that I haven't been able to work out either. It's possible he's listed somewhere in my file as an associate of mine. I didn't scour it enough to find out.

  “That's OK. I guess it's a hazard of the trade with guys like us. He was a good man though.”

  She smiles and nods reminiscently. “He was. He brought me some nicer food a couple of days after you'd left. I thought maybe you asked him to?”

  I shake my head.

  “So it was just him them. That was sweet.”

  We both sit in silence for a few moments, sharing our grief over our dead friends and family. I know that she must be thinking of her friend and aunt and uncle. She's strong to still be going after everything she's been through.

  When Kitty speaks again, it's as if she's just remembered something. “So, are you not coming with me?” she asks with an anguished frown over her eyes.

  My answer is quick and reassuring and brings an immediate smile to her face. “Of course, we're in this together now. And we'll go somewhere warmer, how about that? Somewhere with a beach and the sea.” I hope the image conjures some joy in her. It always does with me. “There's something I have to do first though. One more job, then we can leave.”

  Her face screws with worry. “What?”

  “It's about my family,” I say. “I know the man who killed them.”

  Her face lights up in surprise. “Really? How? Did you see the book?” She shakes her head at the last words as if she's not making any sense. Which she isn't.

  “What book?”

  “No, that can't be it,” she mumbles. “Because....” She reaches to her back pocket and pulls out an old, folded piece of paper. “I took this from this book in the cabin. It was a sort of confessions book for people like me who were about to start a new life.” She hands me the folded paper. “Last Words it was called.”

  Suddenly it springs back into my mind. The book that was on the table, the one with Kitty's drawing in it. The one of her smiling, of her looking happy. The image I wanted to replicate in real life.

  “I saw your drawing,” I say, the folded paper still in my hand. “So, what's this?”

  Now her excitement is gone and she's turning sombre. “I'm not 100% sure it's about them,” she says. “Just read it...”

  I eye her curiously before unfolding the page and reading the first line:

  The Final Confession of Robert Pullman

  The name bursts like a firework in my mind. It's the name given to me by Carmine only this morning. The name of the man who burned down my house, who killed my family.

  I begin reading down the page, reading of a man whose life had been a mess. A criminal who'd lived hand to mouth his whole life, struggling to make ends meet. It's the sort of person I've encountered so often, often the sort of person I track.

  I read further as he describes his guilt, his fear, his optimism over starting a new life. My hands shake as I read the words. Words which confirm Carmine's story, that confirm that the coward ran, changed his identity, and went on to live a normal life. He speaks of it being an accident, of the fact that he'll never forgive himself for what he did, but it brings me no solace.

  I feel Kitty's hand rest lightly on my shaking arm as she whispers quietly. “How did you know already?”

  Her voice brings me back and I glance up at her. “What?”

  “You said you already knew who the man who killed your family was. How did you find out?”

  “Um, Carmine,” I say, now staring again at the page. “He killed him.”

  Kitty's voice registers serious surprise again. “Robert Pullman? Carmine killed him?!”

  I nod. “Although he wasn't Pullman any more, he was Mark Lambert. It was the man you witnessed him murder,” I say absentmindedly.

  I've had the revelation, but for Kitty it's fresh. I don't look at her but I know by her silence that she's trying to piece it all together. She starts to ask questions, but stops halfway each time, maybe coming to a conclusion herself or seeing that I'm in no mood to speculate right now.

  She gives me time with the page, time to decide whether I'm going to tear it to shreds or soak it with tears. I do neither. I just read, over and over, until the words jumble and lose their meaning. Until I grow numb from it all.

  The words are faded at the bottom of the page, so much so that the last few are almost unintelligible. I run my finger over them, feeling the lightest bump of the old dried ink. Then my finger drifts to the space below, so faded it's blank, and I feel the same bumps, dotted along the length of the page.

  There's more.

  I step, quickly, out of the car. I see Kitty jump at the sudden movement and sound of the door opening. “What's going on?” she calls after me, but I don't answer.

  I'm at the trunk and opening a small compartment on the left hand side. I rummage briefly before lifting out a pen, then shut the trunk and lie the page flat on top of it. I press a small button on the pen and the end begins to glow, shining a narrow beam of ultraviolet light onto the paper. I move it over the bottom line beneath the last of the illegible writing, and more words begin to glow.

  I heard the woman had a husband. I was told this by...

  The words cut off again at the end of the page. I flick it over and check the other side, but its unrelated, another confession. Then I check the tear, which is on the right hand side. He must have continued onto another page, still in the book in the cabin.

  I'm quickly back into the car and looking into Kitty's concerned eyes. “What's going on?” she asks again, still trying to catch up.

  “The confession,” I say. “It continues onto the next page. Do you remember....was there space on the next page before the next person's note?” My words are fast and frantic.

  She shakes her head as she tries to recall. “I can't think. I don't know. A lot of the pages were quite faded. Why, what's going on?”

  At the third time of asking I give her a response by handing her the page and UV light. “There
's more to it. He must have carried on writing onto the next page.”

  “Yeah,” says Kitty, “I see. So...”

  “So I need to know what it says.”

  Kitty's eyes narrow slightly like a parent about to dish out some advice to their child. “Maybe you should...let it go.” she says.

  I sit back. “Let it go! How can I let this go!”

  “Because it's not helping you. How are a few more words going to change anything?”

  I shake my head because I don't have an answer. “I just need to. I can't explain it.”

  She nods and takes my hand. “OK. I do understand,” she says quietly. “If it was about Tara or my aunt and uncle, I'd want to read every word. But...that means going back. Back to the cabin.”

  I see in her eyes a hint of unease at the thought of going back there. The place probably holds bad memories for her. But there's another reason I'd want to go back anyway.

  “I want to bury Dale,” I say. “If he's still there.”

  Kitty's expression turns from anxious to sombre. “Why wouldn't he be there?”

  “The wolves, the bears. They might have got to him. But whatever is left of him I want to send off properly. He deserves that much at least.”

  I can see Kitty reflecting on his death, on the deaths of her loves ones. Their funerals have probably already been held, and she didn't even get to say goodbye. She turns away and I see her lift her index finger to her face to brush away a tear. Then she speaks, her voice croaking slightly. “How do you want to get there.”

  “We have to drive,” I say. “You won't be able to get on a plane without being taken by the police.”

  Now she turns back to me. “Maybe...you should go alone.”

  My reaction is instantaneous. “No,” I say, “I'm not leaving you alone again. Whatever deal's been made, I don't trust Carmine. We stay together.”

  I guess it's exactly what she wanted to hear because she smiles and hugs me. When she pulls back I see for the first time how tired she is. Her eyes are heavy, her face drained of most of its color. She looks slightly weak and frail, as if she's about to keel over.

  “You should get some sleep,” I tell her. “We can make it halfway by early evening if we go right now.”

  I feel almost guilty giving out orders like this. I'm sure she wants nothing more than to find a comfortable bed somewhere and get her energy back. But all she does is nod and agree with me, before sliding down into her seat and shutting her eyes.

  I begin the long journey back north with my mind still racing. Teddy Klein can wait. He's not going anywhere and, as far as I know, he has no idea I know what he did. In a couple of days I'll be back here again, back to finish the job and finally get some closure on my family's murder.

  A strange feeling of vindication fills me as I drive. No one, maybe not even Rick, truly believed that Sophie and Ellie had been murdered. But I knew. Like a 6th sense I knew that the fire wasn't an accident. All those years spent trying to find information, trying to search for the truth, haven't been wasted. They've all just lead me to this, to Carmine and Robert Pullman and Teddy Klein. The pieces have finally come together and, with it, the opportunity to finally let go once and for all.

  I turn to see Kitty, breathing lightly, her head rocking gently from side to side as I swerve round corners. And I've met her too, I think to myself. One stage of my life is finally going to be completed. Maybe she represents the next.

  I think of what Sophie will be thinking up there. Whether she's watching me now, nodding her head and smiling as I finally complete the puzzle. I wonder what she thinks about Kitty and know just what she'd say. “It's been long enough, baby. It's time for you to move on, to find someone else. You have to let me go or you'll never have a future.” That's what she'd say.

  It's been years since I've met a girl who even effuses the slightest of feeling from me. Years spent with a one track mind, a mind dominated by revenge, by work. But Kitty's different. In so many ways she even reminds me of Sophie. It's not only her new look and blonde hair. It's her smile, her soft features, her mannerisms. It's the way she looks to reassure me, the feel of her fingers as they touch my hand, wrap around my back. But she's different, too. Stronger. Used to a world that's rougher and more dangerous. Used to the world I live in.

  A few hours pass before I know it. I find that I'm running on the adrenaline of the last few days, my mind still alert despite having not slept for more than a day. My work over the last few years, as well as my time in the army, have primed me to go without sleep for long periods without losing my effectiveness and concentration. By evening I'll stop, but now I want to make as much progress as possible.

  It's only now, alone and silent in the car, that I truly have time to think. It feels alien to me to even have Kitty by my side again, safe and secure with me. I still can't quite believe that Carmine allowed us to leave. Even there, in the woods, he had us both at his mercy. Has he suddenly developed a conscience? The man I know, the man I've heard stories told of, wouldn't think twice of killing us both there and then. I dwell on the thought for a long time and can come to no conclusion.

  Mostly I think of his killing of Pullman, of the act of revenge that he stole from me. I just can't understand why Sophie would have been working for Carmine without telling me. I can't understand why and how he'd grown such an attachment to her to be willing to hunt and track this man for years. Was she really that special to him? And if so, why?

  I squeeze the wheel tight as the thought of her sleeping with him invades my thoughts. I'm not a trusting person and have a mean streak of jealously in me, so such a thought is impossible to evade. Did she sleep with him? The question sits in my mind and refuses to leave. I had been away for nearly 6 months when I got the call of her death. Had she betrayed me during that time?

  I shake the suspicion away. Sophie was loyal and I know she loved me. It wasn't the sort of thing she'd do. More likely was that Carmine fell in love with her and kept it quiet. Or perhaps he told her but it wasn't reciprocated. Whatever happened, I'll probably never know the truth. I hope to never see Carmine again and he's the only one with the answers. And really, he'll only tell me the same as he told me before. That he thought she was a lovely girl, that he felt guilty for recommending Pullman to his associate, Teddy Klein. I can either choose to believe that, or drive myself mad making up a more sordid and painful version of the story. The former option seems like the more sensible route to take.

  “Teddy Klein,” I say out loud, breaking the silence in the car momentarily as his name re-enters my thoughts. The man is just like Carmine. A boss, a gangster. I've even worked for him before, tracking a man who owed him money. He's ruthless, perhaps even more so than Carmine. This man – he only owed him about twenty thousand dollars. But Klein wanted to make a statement. After I'd delivered him, I saw on the news the next day that he'd been found hung from a tree in a central LA park. Of all people he was stumbled upon by a poor child out with his mom and dog. When his identity was released I made the decision never to work for Klein again. Going on the run without paying back 20 G isn't a sufficient crime to warrant what the guy got. I didn't want to be part of that again.

  Carmine's voice is ringing in my ear again. She owed him debt. Why didn't she tell me she was borrowing money? Had things gotten worse when I was gone? Why did she keep it all from me?

  Burning the house down – it must have been for the insurance. A way for Klein to get his money back once the payout came in. Was Sophie involved in that? No, she couldn't have been. Otherwise she wouldn't have been in the house with Ellie. No, it must have been Klein's decision alone, one that he passed onto Pullman.

  I can't stop the thoughts from rolling like a carousel around my head. I speculate in every direction, trying to put it all together. I wonder why Carmine was so intent on finding and killing Pullman, when it was Klein who delivered the order. Why leave him alone? Because they're old friends? Because he's too powerful and killing him would risk war?
The latter makes the most sense. So he took his revenge out on Pullman instead. For a moment, a small part of me feels sorry for him, for getting caught up in all of this. Just a man with nothing who was paid to do a job. Just like me.

  How many lives have I ruined? How many people are out there, wishing revenge against me for tracking someone, for leading them to the gallows? I'm just another Robert Pullman. A man for hire to the highest bidder. A man with nothing. A hypocrite.

  The real villain here is Klein. The man making the decisions. The man playing God. Feeding off the weakness of others. Punishing them with his own brand of retribution when they fail to live up to his demands. What did he lend my wife? Five thousand? Ten? Within a few months that had probably doubled, got to the point where she couldn't cope. That's when he strikes, like a shark smelling blood. He deserves everything he's going to get from me.

  Kitty stirs at my side as the sun sinks below the clouds on the horizon, creating a beautiful pinky orange fog. We're high into Northern California now, a couple of hours from the border. When we reach Oregon I'll call that a half way point and stop for the night. This time, at least, we can stop without worrying about Rugger or another of Carmine's men hunting us down.

  The police, though, are still a concern, and Kitty asks me about them when she properly wakes up. She's worried that they'll catch her at the border, that the truth will be forced from her lips regarding everything that's happened. Ever since Tara was found dead in her apartment, she's been in the run. That looks suspicious, especially with the change of hair cut and color. How does she explain that without dropping Carmine in it? Without being accused of the crimes herself? The best way is to avoid the issue for good, and that's what we're going to do. Change her identity, set up a new life. We've come full circle from a week ago when she was in Carmine's gunsight. This time, however, I'll be with her every step of the way.

  We reach the state border and cross without incident. There's a compartment in my car beneath the passenger seat in the back that I use for stowing illegal materials. There's space in there for Kitty to hide as we cross through, although the effort wasn't necessary in the end. A half hour later we've found a motel and are holing up for the night as we did before. I grab some food from a local shop and we fashion some semblance of a healthy meal, complete with a bottle of wine to toast our escape from the clutches of Michael Carmine.