Karen was stunned, frightened. She knew who they were, Dub’s gigantic sidekicks. She remembered them from the Ambassador. She didn’t know what to say or do, so she said, “Hi, what’s going on?”
“Dub wants him locked up.” It was Bert who said this, while his partner gripped a handful of the guy’s shirt. “We’re crucifying him in the morning. Gotta pay him back for what he did. Stupid fucker walked right into the Ambassador.”
He was talking to her like she was part of the gang. Maybe he thought she was. After all, here she was sitting alone in one of the rooms they conducted their business in, sitting here like she actually belonged. Last night she’d heard them called idiots and morons. Maybe they were stupid enough to think she was just another member of the group, a fact borne out when Bert said, “He’s the one blew Big E’s head off this morning.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Same one killed them boys at the pit yesterday.”
“No kidding,” she said, because she didn’t know what else to say. At least they weren’t snatching her up and raping her, which, under the circumstances, seemed like a definite plus.
“Says he used to be married to Cherry Vanilla—still is, I guess.”
“Cherry Vanilla?” said Karen.
“Dub’s woman,” the other giant said, then, “What?”
“Nothing,” Karen told him, and took a drink of beer.
There was a set of keys on the table—Karen hadn’t noticed them until Bert scooped them up, and he and his gigantic counterpart ushered their prisoner out into the hallway.
She sat for a while, staring at the door. Then she went back to her meal, sawing off bits of meat, savoring every piece she forked into her mouth, tipping up the beer and enjoying it as well. She had just pushed her plate to the middle of the table when the door opened and Bert and Ernie stepped through it. Bert tossed the keys onto the table, and said, “We’re gonna catch a beer out in the lobby, then head on back to the hotel. Hell of a party going on over there.”
“Okay,” Karen said. “Maybe I’ll see you there.”
“See ya,” Bert said, and then he and Ernie walked out into the hallway, leaving a slightly bemused Karen alone with her beer.
Chapter Thirty-One
He’d lasted more than three seconds, but not much more. And now here he was in a dimly lit cell with two other guys who had done absolutely nothing to warrant their being there. His heart was broken, his spirit nonexistent. He had nothing to live for, nothing left but the look on his wife’s face as she leaned into that prick. It wasn’t her fault a bunch of assholes snatched her from the safety of their home, wasn’t her fault they had turned her into a drug addict. He knew that, but knowing it did nothing to ease his pain. He had driven off to work one August morning, knowing his beautiful wife would be waiting when he got back home. But the world had gone crazy, and so had he, and now here he was.
His cellmates introduced themselves the moment those two troglodytes disappeared down the corridor. Paul, a truck driver who had tossed his keys down a sewer grating rather than turn them over to The Devil’s Own. He had been passing through town three weeks after the big event, and he’d been sitting in this cell ever since. Then there was Richard, a fifty-something businessman, who two weeks ago had looked at someone ‘the wrong way’. He was bald and thin. His clothes hung loose on his six-foot frame. They were forthcoming with Scott, but he barely acknowledged their presence. He would die at dawn in a horribly gruesome manner, nailed to a cross in the middle of the square, laughed at while he squirmed like a worm on a hook. His situation was hopeless and bleak, and he was too depressed to discuss it with them.
He sat on his cot, staring down at the floor. A woman’s voice floated down the hallway and he looked up. “Scott!” she called out. “Scott Freeman!”
He sprang across the cell and grabbed the bars. “Sandi!” he shouted. “Sandi, down here!” He could hear her feet padding down the corridor.
Richard said, “What’s going on?”
She came into view, and Scott said, “Who are you?”
She was short, with auburn hair and soft brown eyes. She said, “My name is Karen Turner. I was one of your nurses over at Park West. I cared for you as long as I could, ‘til things got too bad to stick around. Even then, I snuck back a couple of times to check on you. You were still alive a couple of days ago, barely alive, but…look at you—I gave you up for dead, and here you are barely showing any of the aftereffects of what you’ve been through. I can’t believe you made it this far.”
“Well, I won’t be making it much further.”
“Maybe a little further,” Karen said, and then held the keys out in front of her.
Chapter Thirty-Two
It was close to noon by the time Teddy finally made it to bed. He could dope with the best of them, but binging on booze, coke and crystal meth around the clock had taken a definite toll on him. He’d been up all night and he was bone tired, and just when he thought the night was over and he was heading for bed, Dub shoved another pile of coke up his nose and off they went searching the dawn for a way to ease the crazy fucker’s frustration. Thank God the midget popped up when he did or they’d still be out looking for someone to scourge. And Teddy would still be without sleep.
He dropped off little Miss Doctor Nurse and headed out to the north side to check on the meth lab. By the time he was done there, he was too tired to return to his suite at the Ambassador. He needed a few hours sleep, so he found a bed and crawled into it. When he awoke it was dark outside. He showered and dressed, and then left the room to find the rest of the place nearly deserted. Two truckloads of meat had been delivered, one to the jailhouse and one to the hotel. Parties were being thrown at both locations and most everyone had flocked there, leaving a bare minimum of cranked-up zombies to man the meth labs. He climbed onto his bike and rode over to the jailhouse, which had been his routine these last seven weeks. Roll out of bed and head over to the jailhouse; hang around until Dub showed up—usually by the middle of the day. Except today, Teddy had slept right through ‘til night.
He arrived to find smoke rising from a block of grills setup on the jailhouse steps, spreading the tantalizing scent of prime rib through the air. Damn near everybody he knew was either gathered outside or partying inside, many holding hunks of beef in their bare hands, tearing into them like savages who had neither seen nor heard of cutlery and dinner plates. It was quite a scene; one he figured was going on at the Ambassador, too. There was a refrigerated trailer parked at the curb, a gift from Carlicci’s son, no doubt. Teddy had thought carrying a load of C4 up to the old man’s place to be a foolhardy notion, but maybe it wasn’t. They had erased the old man and his cronies, paving the way for junior to take over. And he had taken over; the proof was swirling through the air around him. Tony Carlicci had come down from the hills just like Dub said he would, bringing his refrigerated trucks with him. Maybe Dub was right about something else, too. The old man said he had enough shit to feed an army, that soon enough he would have one big enough to take over the entire city. Now Tony was in charge of those men, and Dub and Tony were tight. Deals had been struck, forces combined. Maybe some of Dub’s crazy rule-the-world-shit would work out after all.
Teddy had two objectives: check the lobby and booking room to see if Dub was around. Check in on the patient Doctor Nurse was supposed to be tending to. Doctor Nurse. She said she needed additional supplies, antibiotics and IVs, that she knew where she could lay her hands on the stuff, so he left her with one of the guys who had found her patient staggering out of the alley. Teddy wondered how she’d made out with Jet, who must surely have laid claim to her by now.
He moved through the crowd, up the jailhouse steps to the front entrance. A thumping bass loud enough to shake the walls echoed down the crowded hallway as he made his way to the lobby, then came a driving guitar. It was a Red Hot Chili Peppers tune, but he couldn’t place the name. He stepped through the entryway to find the lobby packed with bikers and
Q’s, truckers and the various workmen they had allowed into their circle. People were dancing and people were drinking. Several couples were fucking right out in the open. The wall-sized screen was showing a series of Tyson’s classic knockouts, a fun filled array of clips from Iron Mike’s glory days, before his slide into mediocrity sent him spiraling down the tubes in a haze of drugs and despair and photographer’s flashbulbs.
Teddy saw right away that Dub wasn’t there—he would’ve been the center of attention if he was around, and no telltale crowd had gathered at any certain spot in the room. He grabbed a beer, twisted off its cap and tossed the cap to the ground. On his way across the floor he saw Bert and Ernie headed for the exit.
“Hey Bert!” he called out. “BERT!”
They turned and Teddy raised his hand. “Wait up!” he said, and then hurried over to them. And when he got there: “’Sup?”
Ernie said, “We just locked up the guy that blew Big E’s head off this morning.”
“No shit.”
“Yep, tossed his skinny ass right in a cage.”
Bert said, “He’s a tough little fucker. Skinny as a rail, a bullet lodged in his head and he still wiped out five of our men.”
“Five that we know about,” said Ernie.
“Bullet in his head, huh?”
“Just like the midget said.”
“He’s gonna end up like the midget come dawn,” Ernie again. “Nailed to a cross.”
Teddy took a drink of beer, nodding at a table piled high with thick cuts of grilled meat. “I guess Carlicci junior came down after all, huh?”
“He came down, all right,” Bert said.
“His head, anyway,” said Ernie, and the two of them laughed. Bert took a swig of beer, and Teddy said, “And that would mean?”
“Some guy showed up with a buncha Carlicci’s men, showed up with Tony’s head stuffed in a bowling ball bag. Said he was in charge now—Carlo, cool dude. Him and Dub and a buncha his men busted into the First National, made off with over a million bucks. And that’s just for starters. We’re gonna do one a day until we run out of ‘em, and then move on to the next town. They’re supposed to come back and party with us tonight. That’s where we’re goin’, back to the Ambassador.”
“Hell of a party goin’ over there,” said Bert.
“Hell of a party here,” Teddy told him.
“Well, Dub’s over there, and we like to stick close to Dub.” Ernie took a long drink of beer, took another, and said, “Probably get cranked up and go back out tonight, maybe you should go with us.”
“Maybe,” Teddy said, smiling as he thought, definitely not.
“Well, we’re headin’ on out.”
“See ya in a little while. I’m gonna grab some of that beef, see how that dude’s doin’. Dub’ll wanta know about him.”
“What dude?”
“The patient. You know, the guy who got shot yesterday.”
“Oh, yeah.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Three keys hung on the oval piece of metal Karen held in front of her, one as long and as thick as a finger. Karen inserted that one into the lock. Turning it took a great deal of effort, but she managed it, and once the bars slid back, Scott and his cellmates stepped out into the hallway.
Paul, the truck driver, said, “Is there a back way outa here?”
“Just walk out through the lobby,” Karen told him. “There’s a huge party going on in there. Walk out like you belong and nobody’ll even notice. The parking lot’s full of cars and trucks, motorcycles and SUV’s. Keys are left in them so anyone who needs one can just jump in and take off. They’re not worried about people stealing them ‘cause anybody with any sense wouldn’t come within shouting distance of this place. If you’re out there, you’re pretty much with them.”
“Still,” Richard said. “I’d feel a lot better sneaking out the back.” The business man, in his wrinkled grey suit, peered down the long hallway, and Karen said, “Good luck finding a back door. Personally, I’d go out the front—one at a time.”
“Fuck this,” said Paul. “I’m getting outa here.” He took off up the hallway, took a left and disappeared into another long corridor.
Richard shrugged out of his sports jacket and dropped it to the floor. “I doubt I’d fit in wearing that.”
“Good move,” Karen told him, then to Scott, “Turn your head.” She brushed a finger across the dimpled indentation. “You really have come a long way.”
“I’m going now,” said Richard. “Thank you for setting us free.”
Karen wished him well, and he headed up the hallway, following the same path as his truck driving cellmate. Then she turned to Scott and said, “Well, let’s go.”
They had started up the corridor, when somebody said, “What about us?” It was a man in another shadowed cell. When Scott and Karen stepped closer, they saw four people standing behind him. “You’re going to let us out, aren’t you?”
Scott, who had stood silent since stepping out of his cell, said, “No. We can’t.”
“What do you mean, you can’t? There’s a party going on out there, isn’t there? We’ll all walk out, just like she said.”
“We can’t chance it.”
“What the fuck, man?”
“He’s right,” Karen said. “We can’t chance it. I’m sorry—I really am. Somebody sees a bunch of people streaming out that door, next thing you know those bikers’ll be all over us. I’m sorry.”
She and Scott turned their backs to a bevy of shouted curses and slurs that continued as they made their way down the hallway. A left took them down another long corridor, past a stairwell that led to the rooftop. They kept going. Soon they were passing the booking room.
Scott said, “My wife. She’s with them.”
“I know. I’ve seen her.”
“She’s with him.”
“I know.”
“He told her we could leave together, that he’d let us go. All she had to do was say yes, but she didn’t. She just watched them drag me away. I watched her stick a needle in her arm—her own arm. And she just let them take me away like I didn’t even matter.”
“It’s the drugs, Scott. The drugs and the fear and everything she’s been through. She came to the clinic every day; every single day she sat by your side, reading to you, talking to you, holding your hand and praying. I don’t know what happened to her, but it must have been pretty bad. She was a good woman, once, but now the drugs have her. And the things she’s been forced to… I don’t know what to say, except, I know she loved you, once, and I’m sorry.”
They continued along the hallway, until Karen stopped and said, “Let’s duck in here a minute. I’ve been caring for this guy and I want to check on him one last time before I leave.”
On their way through the doorway, Scott said, “Where’re you going to go?”
“Like I told you back in front of your cell. There’s a parking lot full of vehicles outside. I’m going to walk through the lobby like I own the place, go out and climb into one of those SUV’s and haul ass away from here. Come along if you like. Or don’t. Either way, I’ve had enough of this shit.”
They crossed the floor, past the nurse’s station to the room where her patient lay sleeping. His eyes were closed, his arms by his side. He was resting peacefully. Karen shook him and his eyes slowly opened. “Hey,” he said.
“Hey, yourself,” she told him, then, “Look, I’m leaving here tonight and I won’t be back. I just wanted to look in on you before I go.”
“You’re… leaving?”
“Yes, I’m leaving, but you’ll be all right. I’m going to replenish your IV fluids. When that runs out, start in on the bottle of antibiotics and pain medication I’ve left on the nightstand. Just read the label and take them as directed. There’s food and water in that bag in the corner. Hold up here for a while. You’ll know when it’s time to leave—you’ll feel it.”
Scott watched as Karen pulled the clear plastic tubing f
rom the needle inserted into her patient’s wrist, unhooked the nearly depleted IV bag and tossed it and the tubing in a waste receptacle. Moments later, new tubing and another bag was in place.
Two days ago he might very well have raped her in the dark alley he had been found staggering from. But now he was a human being in need, and she had done what she’d been trained to do. Two days ago they might have been enemies, but now there was a bond. She could feel it between them. “Well,” she said, and then gave his arm a gentle pat.
“You saved my life, and I’ll never forget it. Thank you… I don’t even know your name.”
“Karen… and you are?”
“Roger.”
Take care, Roger.”
Karen and Scott left Roger behind, retracing their steps past the nurse’s station, then across the floor. The door opened and Steady Teddy stepped into the room, smiling.
“What’s this?” he called out. He shut the door behind him and stepped closer to Scott and Karen.
“Just checking on my patient,” Karen said.
“And this is?”
“Jimmy Jay’s friend.”
“You got a name, Jimmy Jay’s friend?”
“Roger.”
Teddy took another step closer, until he was standing right between them. Still smiling, he said, “How is our patient?”
“He’s all—”
A swift elbow to the head sent Scott reeling to the floor. Karen stepped back and Teddy drove a boot into his side, then another savage kick as Scott lay squirming. Then the biker turned to Karen, who had backed all the way across the room.
THE DAMNED Page 25
