Earth's Survivors: box set

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Earth's Survivors: box set Page 146

by Wendell Sweet


  He closed his own little notebook that he had pulled from his pocket and looked at the other cop. He shook his head.

  "I guess we have nothing else, Billy. Like I said, if you think of anything else," he reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card. He handed the card to Billy. "Give me a call, okay?"

  Billy nodded, looked over the card and then shoved it into his pocket.

  They all stood and watched as the Toyota flipped back over onto its wheels: Metal screeching, the car lurching from side to side on its ruined suspension as it slammed down. The men began hooking up the cables to winch the car up onto the flat bed truck. A few seconds later a second flat bed truck drove around the first and then backed down Billy's driveway to the back yard. A steady Beep, Beep, Beep sounding as it backed up. They watched in silence as two men hooked up the remains of the Ford and then winched it backwards and up onto the flat bed.

  A second later the two cops walked away without another word. Billy sat back down on his wooden steps and watched them get into their car and drive away. The trucks followed, and a few seconds later the silence descended once more on Lott road. Billy sat and watched the dust settle back down to the dirt lane.

  There was a little gray seeping into the air and the sky was lightening above the tree tops. Dawn was not far away. Billy walked up the steps and into the trailer He took one of the beers from the refrigerator, went back outside and sat down on the steps once more.

  She, whoever she was, was on his mind. If there had been someone else there, why hadn't she let him know? Had she been afraid? Most likely, he thought. What had she seen? Had she seen him take the stuff from the Toyota? The Ford?

  The Ford he found hard to believe. She would have pretty much had to have been in plain view to have seen the Ford in his back yard, but the Toyota was a different matter. He had been exposed, she could have been anywhere, but if she had seen what he had done why hadn't she told the cops? She couldn't have or they would have confronted him and taken those items back, probably arrested him too.

  He sipped at the beer, remembered that he had eleven more: Wished he had, had time to check the one guys wallet, maybe there had been money it; in fact probably there had been money in it; then he tipped the beer and chugged it. Got up, went back inside, got two more beers and then came back out and sat down on the steps once more.

  He really wanted nothing more than to go back inside to the bedroom and see what he had gotten, but he was too worried about the witness the cops had told him about. Who could it be? Would she eventually tell the cops? Had she and they were just playing it cool to see if he would lie? Questions and questions and no answers.

  He popped the top on one of the beers and took a deep drink. His mind seemed to clear a little.

  The big bags were almost certainly pot. That wasn't cash money, but it could be soon. The bricks that had been hidden in the ice chest were probably cocaine That was scary, but it was also money. And he knew who to go to, to get rid of all of that. That would be a very large sum of money. He sipped at the beer and thought about it, playing it over in his head.

  The two bags of pot were huge. Too heavy for him to carry both bags. That was a lot of pot. A lot of money... The guns... And what else was in the other bags? More drugs? Money? Guns? Dirty gym clothes?

  He reached to pop the top on the beer, was surprised to find it was already open, and took a deep gulp: As he lowered his hand he caught movement down the road. A shadow at the side of the road, but it quickly turned into a shape. Someone walking down the side of the road.

  THREE

  Lott Road

  Billy Jingo

  Billy pulled out his cigarettes, lit one and watched. He knew it was a young woman long before she got to his driveway and started up it. Nineteen... Twenty, give or take. A little younger than himself. Dark hair, slim; jeans and a Baby-T that showed a lot of skin and a pierced belly button. She walked up and stopped in front of him.

  "Got another smoke?" she asked.

  And suddenly Billy was not sure she was that old. She sounded even younger. He shook out a cigarette and lit it for her. She reached down, picked up the second can of beer, popped the top and took a deep drink. No, Billy told himself. She must be even older.

  "April," she said. "I've seen you around. I live down at the trailer park.

  The trailer park was a worse dump than his own place. "Billy," he said.

  She took a deep pull on the cigarette; blew the smoke out and then locked her eyes on his. "I saw you," she said simply. "I saw you take that shit from the cars, but I didn't tell the cops." She smiled.

  ~

  He held the door for her as she stepped into the trailer. Her eyes seemed to take in everything in one sweeping gaze.

  "Hey," she said as she walked to the couch. "This looks like that old lady’s couch. The one her husband died on... I heard," she said as she turned to Billy, "he died watching one of those uncensored Canadian films.... Had himself a heart attack." She sat down.

  Billy snapped his mouth shut. He had been going to tell her how he had found it on the curb in front of old lady Johnson's house. How it had taken him twenty minutes to wrestle it into the truck by himself, and nearly a half hour to get it through the trailer door. But how it was worth it because it was in such great shape. Now it didn't seem like such great news.

  He opened the refrigerator and checked the sack he had picked up from the ditch. Bread, crackers, two bags of chips, probably smashed, he told himself, and a broken jar of mayonnaise. He turned around to ask her if she wanted a sandwich and some chips, but she was right behind him.

  "Too bad about the mayo," she told him.

  "Yeah... But we got bread. Cheese, bologna, and..."He picked up the other packs of meat, "Salami, ham and olive loaf too," he told her. "Oh, and chips."

  "I'll take the white bread for mine," she said and laughed.

  Billy looked at the green loaf of bread. "I guess it's no good, huh?" he asked.

  "It was probably no good two months ago," April told him. She took out the new loaf of bread, the cheese and the olive loaf. "What kind do you want?"

  "Salami," Billy answered.

  "I'll make the sandwiches." She picked up a squeeze bottle of mustard and looked at it critically, shook it and then looked at Billy.

  "It's good... Just bought it last week... "Besides, mustard don't go bad, does it?" he asked.

  "Everything can go bad," April said. She picked up the salami and the mustard. "You can get the beers and chips," she said.

  She sat everything down on the counter top and then dragged the steel trash can over to the refrigerator: Got the same spatula out of the sink, and levered the green bread into the trash can. She took everything else out of the bag with the broken mayonnaise and then carefully dropped the bag into the can too. A cup that had something that seemed to be growing black hair. An expired container of milk, and that was it. She dragged the can away, pulled out the bag and looked at Billy.

  "Under the sink is fresh bags," he told her.

  After she had taken the trash out to the steel bin down by the road, she came back, washed her hands, and made the sandwiches. She carried the sandwiches over and handed one to Billy and then settled down on to the opposite end of the couch.

  He looked at her funny as he ate his sandwich, a question in his eyes.

  "You want to know about the stuff from the cars?" she asked.

  Billy nodded. "Like, how did you see me out back?"

  "I was in the woods. I ran. I didn't know what those guys would do. I knew you lived here. I was heading here when I saw you come out. I wouldn't have done that... I couldn't have. Especially when you fell inside the car. It made me gag."

  She paused and met his eyes for a second, then looked away once more. She closed her eyes like she was recalling the scene, or it was playing out again behind her closed lids. Billy supposed it was. She continued in a lower, measured voice.

  "When you got done-I was surprised how fast you d
id it-I just stayed in the wood for a few minutes... Like I didn't know what to do... I guess I didn't," she shook her head. "Then I walked down the road through the woods across from the other car. I was going to tell you... Call out... But you seemed so focused... I guess that's the word. Intent might be better. And anyway, next thing you know you were done with that too. Then the cops... I came out of the woods when the cops got here. You didn't see me 'cause you were talking to one of them..." She looked back at him and held his eyes with her own. That was pretty easy to do: Billy seemed unable to look away. "You mad?" she asked after a few moments.

  "How old are you?" Billy asked.

  "Huh?" she asked.

  "You know... How old are you. I look at you and I keep thinking you are younger. Then you talk and I start thinking you are older," Billy said.

  "Fifteen," she said. "Still wanna do me?" she asked and smiled.

  "God," Billy said, nearly choking.

  "I'm kidding," she laughed. "I'm eighteen." She pulled out her driver's license and showed it to him.

  Billy looked from her to the license. "Doesn't really look like you."

  She sighed, took the license and stuck it back into her pocket. "Now who else would it be?" she asked.

  "That was mean," Billy said. “I'm sorry. No one ever looks like themselves in a license photo.”

  "Yeah... But the upside is I'm legal and I bet that matters, doesn't it?" April asked.

  He opened his mouth to respond and then snapped it shut just as quickly. She giggled.

  "So... You didn't peek at all? Look in the bags?"

  Billy cleared his throat and hoped his face wasn't too red. "No... But you could tell what some of it was. At least I'm pretty sure. There's two huge bags of pot. I mean huge," Billy told her.

  "I know. I saw you had a hard time lifting them. You could only carry one at a time," April agreed.

  "You really were watching the whole thing?" Billy said.

  "I told you," April agreed.

  "Yeah... Well anyway, I could only carry one bag at a time. I mean, how heavy is that? How much pot is that? A lot. A freakin' lot. And then there's four bricks of cocaine. Probably cocaine, but what else do you package like that and shoot other people over? They're actually brick size. Like a real brick. That has to be worth a lot too." He paused and looked at her.

  "The rest?" she asked.

  "The rest we'll have to see. I didn't have time to look at it," Billy told her.

  "When?" she asked. "When will we see?"

  "Well... We should come to some sort of deal first, right?" Billy asked.

  "Deal... What do you mean deal?" April asked.

  Billy looked away and then turned back and met her eyes. "Deal as in I did all the work," he said.

  She nodded. "And I kept my mouth shut or you wouldn't have it. And you would probably be sitting in county jail right now too," she told him.

  Billy finished his sandwich and then licked his fingers. April finished her own and they both sat in the silence for a while. The refrigerator clicked on and the compressor began to hum loudly from the kitchen. Billy drank down the entire can of beer waiting for her to speak, letting the minutes play out. When she didn't speak he got up for another can, offered her one, but she shook her head and so he sat back down with the fresh can.

  "So," Billy said reluctantly. "What do you want? You want to split it fifty, fifty?"

  "That would be the fairest... If you consider it all, we're both in on it from go. I intended to look in those cars too, you just got there first. I kept my mouth shut. I would have yelled to you if I had seen someone coming... It was an equal thing... Equal risk, so it should be equal profit," April finished.

  "Really? You're not just saying that?" Billy asked.

  "What? Calling out to you if someone came? Going for the cars myself? Of course I mean it. I would have. I ain't rich. I don't have no one that helps me. I don't have shit. I could use some money too. I got a crappy little job. Life doesn't seem to be going anywhere... It's tough," she said.

  Billy finished his beer and sat it down on the coffee table. "Three things," he said. "First, we'll do fifty, fifty. I know someone who can take that pot from us... It'll be good money... Probably take the coke too..." He paused and brushed at the side of his face.

  "Second... We risk everything just like we share everything. Fifty, fifty. We put the same work into it, whatever there is to do... Cool?" he asked.

  "Cool," she said. "What's three?"

  "Were you kidding about me and you? ... Just teasing?"

  "Nope," she said. "I think you do want me... I think you're cute too."

  ~

  "You don't think I'm easy, do you?" April asked.

  They were in the bedroom. She had simply got up and followed him down the hall to the bedroom. She looked at the bed which appeared to be made. That was surprising: A guy making his own bed.

  Billy looked at her confused, and then looked down at the bed. "Oh," he said and turned red. "I put the stuff here. I put it here because I really couldn't think of a better place to put it, and I heard the sirens coming... So I stuffed it under the bed." He explained.

  "Oh," she said. "I thought... Never mind."

  Billy turned a deeper red. He moved to the side of the bed and picked up the blanket that trailed onto the floor. The underside of the bed was crammed with duffel bags and suitcases.

  "I'll pick up the box springs and you pull the stuff out. It's the only way I could get it under there quick." He squatted, picked up one corner of the box springs and mattress and lifted it from the frame. April began pulling everything out onto the floor.

  Outside a car door slammed.

  "Fuck," Billy squeaked.

  April picked up bags and began shoving them back under the bed. Pushing them deep under the bed with her feet. Billy wrenched the mattress and box springs back up and she dumped the rest back in, struggling with the suitcases.

  Billy lowered the box spring, starting to breathe hard with panic. He took a deep breath and forced himself to calm down. He smoothed the blanket over the corner of the bed once more, and then turned and headed out of the bed room: As he walked into the living room someone began to knock on the front door that opened into the kitchen. Billy looked out the peephole only to find a young guy with thick, curly black hair staring back at him. A camera hung around his neck, a clip board in his hand.

  Billy took a deep breath, exhaled slowly, and then opened the door.

  "Mister Jingo?" the young guy asked. He looked even younger than Billy was.

  "Yeah," Billy said. It was never any good when someone called you by your government name.

  "Gotta take some pictures. You know, out back. That okay?" He held up the camera.

  "Yeah... Go ahead," Billy said, relieved. He started to shut the door.

  "Uh... Hold on... You got to sign." He smiled and offered Billy the clipboard, tapping with one finger where the signature should go.

  Billy had let go of the door when he took the clipboard. The door swung open to reveal April who stood behind him. The young guy looked up at her from his place on the rickety wooden steps.

  "Oh... Hey," the guy said.

  "Hey," April returned. She turned on her best three hundred watt smile and the guy returned it.

  Billy scratched out a reasonable version of his name and then handed the clip board back to the kid.

  "Cool," he said. He glanced at April once more. "I won't be long." He turned away and walked toward the end of the trailer and the back yard. Billy shut the door and they both sighed.

  "Says he won't be long... Hopefully he won't... Want another beer?" Billy asked.

  "Sure," April agreed. She wandered over to the couch and sat down. Billy took a beer to her and then sat down at the other end of the couch. The T.V. was still playing low and it amazed Billy that it could still be playing after all that had happened. An infomercial for a new mini washing machine that washed just a few items at a time came on and caught his atten
tion for a few moments. April pulled his attention away from the T.V.

  "What was in the paper bag?" she asked.

  "Don't know. It was in the glove box of the Ford.... The car out back," he finished.

  "I can tell a Ford from a Toyota," April said. "So three duffel bags and two suitcases?"

  He nodded.

  "That one suitcase is heavy... The melted one?"

  He nodded. "That's the one I pulled out of the Toyota while it was burning... That blue duffel bag I pulled out of the Ford is heavy too."

  "That was crazy," April said. "It could have blown up or something."

  "Yeah... I thought about that afterward," Billy admitted. He got up and crossed to the T.V., pushing aside the curtain that covered the window that looked out over the back yard.

  The guy was taking measurements, and both close up and distant shots of the tree with a digital camera. He looked up and saw Billy at the window and waved. Billy waved back and then came back over to the couch and sat down.

  "Do you realize it's almost two hours after the fact?" Billy asked her.

  April looked at him.

  "Just makes me wonder if we'll ever look inside those bags today or not. And eventually I have to get hold of someone for that pot... Probably the coke too," he added.

  "Is that smart?" April asked.

  "What do you mean?" Billy returned.

  "Just that, that's a lot of stuff. Somebody's gonna miss it... If we show up with it, it could be bad, right?" she asked.

  "I thought about that," Billy said. "We could just get rid of some of it... A little today... A little next week... Like that, until it's all gone. I only know one person who could take it all... I was going to do that, then I thought about it like you said, and realized it could be stupid... Same reasons... I only know that the guy deals big time... Not with who," Billy said.

  "Could be money in one of those suitcases... Or duffel bags," April said.

 

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