“I’m kinda on the tail end of the detox process. My body is still craving the drug. It should only last another day or two.” Day or two? That’s not good. He’s going to be doing the show of his life in a day or two. He has to bring his A game or we’re through. He takes my silence for doubt and suspicion. “Hey, I’m clean and I’ll be fine, now let’s just go. It should work. He trusts me. Well, as least as much as one druggie can trust another...He’ll be too busy to stop and really take a good look at the money. By the time he does we’ll be gone. The only problem I see is that he knows what your car looks like. This could make for an interesting getaway if he pursues us.”
I look at my watch. “It’s almost show time Silas. You got anything you need to get out of your room before we go?”
“I’m good to go. So, how’s the plan going to work?” As we’re wandering around the grounds I fill him in. “That’s not really a plan sis, that’s...forget it. I can’t think of anything else. It’s pretty damn bold, so it just might work.”
One more glance at my watch. “We need to be near the intake offices. You know where those are, right?”
“Yeah, is that where we’re leaving from?”
“In exactly twelve minutes, the camera on both the inside and outside of the door is going to blink off for a little while. Your dealer friend is somewhat of an expert lock pick I’m told, and he’ll open the door and get us out.”
“He’s gonna need more time than that for the lock on that door.”
“Well that’s all we got.”
I have a half ounce of heroin in a backpack along with fifteen hundred bucks in small bills and newspaper. For the first time I am really wondering if I’m doing the right thing. In fact, I’m pretty sure that right now, this very moment, I am doing the wrong thing and I should just run out the front door and never see Silas or Stewart or Brand ever again. I can’t do it. I grasp the straps to my pack and tighten them even tighter. I don’t want it bouncing around on my back while I’m running down the hall. I hope Silas will forgive me someday, but I just can’t go through with this. My whole future is on the line here. I have to run. The instant I am springing into motion, Silas has got his hand on my arm and has stepped in front of me.
“Better let me hold your pack for you.”
“I’m fine.”
“Lemme have it. If we’re caught it’ll be a lot easier on me than you. But if you get caught, you’ll go down for possession with intent to traffic. You’ll go away for double digits before you’ll be eligible for parole.”
“You’re a terrible liar. I’m an educated member of the medical community. They’ll think you coerced me into smuggling in the drugs and I’ll get parole and that’s it. I’m keeping the pack.”
“June!”
“Seven seconds, Silas.”
I’m shocked that we actually made it down the long hall and are standing in front of the door. I can hear someone tinkering with the doorknob and soft swearing from the other side. I guess it’s not going as smoothly as planned. After a minute I look at my watch. If my calculations are correct, we have just forty more seconds before the security camera will be functional again. What the hell is going on here?
“Something’s wrong Silas,” I whisper.
“You think?”
Then from the other side of the door: “Oh shit!” It’s my dealer friend who’s swearing now. “How the fuck did you know I’d be here? Dammit!”
“Step away from the door,” commands another voice.
“Hey look, I ain’t got a thing on me. I was just trying to see an old friend. But if you’re looking for drugs and money, open that door real quick like.”
I can’t believe this guy just ratted us out. Silas grabs my pack and my arm. “Run!”
He takes the lead. We make it down the hall in record time, and Silas skids to a halt in front of a door marked “library”. He doubles over panting, trying to catch his breath.
“This… is… the old…library. They… don’t use it anymore… and sometimes it’s left unlocked.” I try the knob. It’s unlocked. I open the door and search around for a light switch. “No lights. Someone will come to investigate. Besides, I know my way around here.”
“Why’s it so dark in here? It’s light outside.”
“They keep the blinds drawn. Here, take my hand and follow right behind me, that way you won’t trip on anything.”
We find the window pretty fast and peek out through the shades. From this side of the building, I can’t see my car—so there’s no way to tell if someone is staking it out or not. I relay my thoughts to Silas.
“Well, we’re just going to have to chance it. We’ve reacted pretty fast. They probably think we’re somewhere inside, so they’ll be doing a room search followed by all the offices and finally the grounds and then the parking lot. If they go in their usual order.”
“You seem to know a lot about their search habits,” I whisper.
“Well, I’ve been planning to get out ever since I got here so...Dammit, the window’s locked!”
“Crap, what are we going to do now? We can’t go back out in the hall.”
For an answer he grabs a heavy chair. “Soon as this breaks,” he explains, “We give away our position. So run like hell for your car and I’ll follow. Got it?” The chair soars through the window, leaving a wide trail of broken glass. “Don’t cut yourself,” he calls out behind me.
My egress is a little slower than I would like, but I really didn’t want to slit my wrist climbing over the threshold. Soon as I’m safely out the window I dare look up and around. No one is in sight. I take off at a dead run, Silas on my heels.
I’m not exactly sure where we are in relation to the visitor parking lot, so I just run for the corner of the building, hoping my car is just around it. We round the corner in no time flat and there’s my car, about forty yards ahead. There is the posse as well, making their way around the building. They haven’t spotted us yet. I point them out to Silas as we run. He nods. Thirty-five yards and closing.
“There they are!” someone shouts, and the chase is on.
The instant we’re spotted I get a sudden kick of adrenaline. It enables me to run faster than I ever have before. Thirty yards and closing. They have the advantage of being ahead of us, but they’re off to our left side. With the angle they have on us, I can’t tell whether we’ll get to the car far enough ahead of them to get it going and get out of here. Twenty-five yards. I can hear Silas’s jagged breaths behind me and I can tell he has fallen a little behind. Initially he was faster than me and had to slow down. Now I find myself slowing for him.
“Don’t… slow… down. You still… gotta…start the car.” he manages to gasp.
I put on another burst of speed in response and I can hear him fall farther behind us. Twenty yards. I can see the angry expressions on the faces of our three pursuers. They’re not looking near as winded as we are. We’ve been running longer than they have. But we have the added impetus of fear—make that terror. I can’t be caught.
Ten yards. I’m gonna make it. I fish my keys out as I run and promptly drop them on the ground. I give them a good kick as I try to scoop them up on the run. I get them the second time and press the unlock symbol on the plastic fob. I’m rewarded with a friendly beep. I don’t dare look behind me now. I’m way too afraid to see just how close the enemy is to me. I dive in the front seat and jam the key into the ignition.
I turn the key and the engine roars to life. A sudden thud shakes the car. This time I look, and scream. The face I see mashed up against my door window is not Silas. I don’t know whether to back up and pull out of my parking spot or to just sit there. One thing I’m not willing to do is to hurt anyone just to make my getaway. The nameless face goes flying backwards through the air and lands with a thud against another car’s hood. I guess Silas is willing to do whatever to get away. Suddenly he’s opening the door.
“Go!” he roars at the top of his lungs.
“I’m goi
ng!” I scream back and twist around. There’s a guy standing off to the side, but not behind me. I hit the gas and go squealing backwards, barely missing the guy as I turn the wheel.
Suddenly there’s a deafening crash by my left ear, followed by an intense burning pain. “I’ve been shot! Silas, they’re shooting me!” I scream.
“Drive, just drive!” he bellows.
I manage to put the car in drive and hit the gas. “Silas, I can’t see out of my left eye!” I’m still shouting at the top of my lungs. My voice sounds ragged in my ears, and my throat is burning. I can feel the blood running down the side of my face.
“You’re fine June, you’re fine.”
“How...” I lower my voice as I ease onto the highway. “How can I be fine? I’m blind in one eye.” My remaining eye is filling up with tears and I can barely see where we’re going.
“You’re fine. They threw a brick through the window. You got a few cuts, and it looks like some blood has run into your eye.”
“What? They didn’t shoot me?”
“Pull over. You can barely see, if at all, and you’re going to get us killed. After that crazy jail break I do not want to die in some freak car crash.”
His calmness is having the desired effect on me. My heart is slowing, my breath is too, and my mind is no longer racing a hundred miles an hour. I pull off the road and we switch. But before he gets in he checks my face closely.
“You’re okay. The cuts are superficial. They probably hurt like hell, but they should heal without a scar.”
Silas takes the driver’s seat and I slouch way down in the other.
“Well, we did it,” Silas breaks a long silence.
“Yeah...we did.” But I don’t feel relieved or even one bit happy. Yeah, I just did what I had to do to get Silas to the show, but at what price? When are the police going to come knocking at my door or at work to take me away?
After another longer silence I look over at Silas. He looks wrecked! He’s covered in sweat, looks green around the gills, and is beginning to shake. What the hell is going on with him?
“Silas, what’s wrong with you? You look like hell!”
After a long pause he replies, “I haven’t been completely honest with you June.”
Oh, Christ. Now what?
Chapter Twenty-three
The Longest Ride
We haven’t been on the road for more than twenty minutes before Silas needs to find a bathroom. At first I think it’s to pee, but when he has to stop again after only thirty minutes I realize something more is going on.
“Silas, you truly look like shit. What’s going on? I know that last stop can’t have been to drain your bladder. So what’s up? You got the flu or something?”
“I’m gonna go with, or something.”
“Well you let me know when you’re ready to tell me the truth. Have you forgotten I work in the emergency room? This is not the first time I’ve encountered symptoms like yours.”
“I’m going through withdrawals from heroin.”
“No kidding?”
This time he just groans. I think he’s too deep into the process to form words longer than four letter swear words.
By the time we hit the Grapevine, we’ve had to make two more unscheduled pit stops. If I wasn’t in the medical profession, I would think the guy was well into the dying process and not the drug withdrawal one. I can’t relax, and I can barely concentrate on the highway when I’ve got a moaning 200 pound beast strapped in the seat next to me.
“When was your last fix, Silas?”
I get nothing but incoherent mumbling. I guess I shouldn’t expect anything else for a while. He must have been on the tail end of a high the night before our meeting at Forbes. That means he has about four more rocky days of withdrawal before he makes it over the hump and his symptoms start to recede. He’s going to be in full blown withdrawal right in the middle of his grand comeback show with the band. He’s going to be a stark raving lunatic Saturday night, and not a rock god!
“Dammit! How could you do this to me, Silas? I came all the way down here and have risked my career just so you can be a rock star again, and you fuck it up by getting high at your drug treatment center.”
I am so pissed I can’t see straight, so I just pull off the road. I unbuckle Silas’s seatbelt, then reach across and open his door. He gives me a blank look and moans.
“Get the fuck out of my car. I’ve had it. You just ruined my life and yours too, so get out.”
He just closes his eyes and slouches down in his seat. That’s the last straw for me. I twist in my seat and bring my knees up to my chest. Almost immediately he figures out what I’m about to do, but it’s too late. My heels strike him in the shoulder and he goes flying out of my car, falling flat on his back in the dirt. He looks at me in utter shock, but makes no move to get up. Instead he just lays there on his back. Maybe he’s hoping the coyotes will come and relieve him from his miserable life. Who, I wonder, is going to relieve me from my miserable life? I’m just about to pull onto the interstate leaving Silas behind when Stewart calls.
“Hello Stewart.”
“Have you got him yet?”
“Yeah, I have him—”
“That’s great! You just leapt over your biggest obstacle to show of a lifetime.”
“Stew...I’m not sure that’s going to happen. Mr. Rock star here is in no shape to be playing anything. He’s pretty much at death’s door.”
“What are you talking about?”
“What I’m talking about is your nephew getting high in Forbes. He’s in the middle of a full blown heroin withdrawal. The man should be on his way to the hospital, not to a rock concert.”
“I’m so sorry, I had no idea. So I guess we should pull the plug on the whole deal then?”
“Not yet. I have an idea. I gotta go.”
A loud bang just about gives me a heart attack. Silas has just crawled back into my car and slammed the door. As bad as he looks, I wouldn’t have thought him capable of getting back into his seat on his own accord. His seatbelt, however, proves too difficult to handle. After making sure he’s buckled in, I pull out into the roadway full of hope. This might work out after all. I just need to find a gas station or restaurant that we can park in for a little bit. I don’t want some highway patrol guy rolling up on us right when Silas is getting high.
Ten minutes later we’re sitting in the parking lot of the Black Bear diner. I fish my backpack out from the trunk of my car, locate the cigarette package and hand it to Silas, who is shaking so badly he can barely hold onto it.
“Do it. You’ll never be able to do the show tomorrow night if you’re in full blown heroin withdrawal. Then I will have risked my career, my very freedom, for nothing. I need you to get high so you can do your part here. Do you understand?”
He nods and frantically tears into the cigarette pack. I can’t help but watch the whole thing with a certain morbid fascination. The cooking process, the initial insertion of the needle, and the squirt of blood as he draws back on the syringe making sure he hit a vein. How is he able to manage this when a minute ago he could barely hold onto the cigarette pack?
I look up at his face as the drug is pushed into his bloodstream. The story is in his eyes. I can see the manic agony of withdrawal leave and a dreamy heroin high comes seeping in. His lids fall to half-mast as he slides down in his seat. His athletic frame goes from rigid to wet noodle all in the space of about fifteen seconds.
It’s really quite remarkable to watch, and scary too. I check to make sure he’s breathing normally before pulling out of the parking lot. It would not do to be driving around with a dead rock star in the seat next to me.
We drive on in silence for about an hour and a half before Silas begins to wake up. He looks over at me with an odd grin on his face.
“Are you for real?” he asks, poking my arm.
“Hey,” I exclaim. “You’re supposed to pinch yourself, not poke me, idiot.”
“Oh
yeah, sorry ‘bout that.”
“Nice to see you finally decided to join the land of the living.”
“Yeah...so why’d you do it?”
“Why’d I get you out, or why did it give you the drugs?”
“The drugs.”
“How well do you think you would have played Saturday night if I hadn’t let you get high before the show?”
“Probably not much worse than I’ll end up playing anyhow is my guess.”
“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”
“If it’s still standing...”
He closes his eyes once more and drifts off into a deep sleep. I am finding it hard to keep my eyes on the road. I find myself counting his breaths every couple minutes just to make sure he’s still alive. If he overdoses before the show, and before I can get him back to Forbes Clinic, then my life is really over.
I can’t believe what I just did. I’m a member of the medical community who just became a fugitive. I just broke someone out of a secure facility, smuggled in heroin, and helped an addict relapse. I nearly ran over two people with my car and I’m on the run. I need to talk to someone. Gabbs, that’s who I need. I fish out my phone and punch in her number.
“Hello?” she picks up on the first ring. “June, you okay?”
The tears begin to flow. “Not really...”
“What’s wrong?”
I recount everything that’s gone on since I arrived Forbes. When I’m finished, there’s a long pause before she begins speaking again.
“You know June, I don’t think things are quite as dire as you think,” she begins. Then she outlines a plan of action that I think will actually work for all involved. “He just better play his heart out Saturday or, as they say, all bets are off.”
“And therein lies the real problem. No one knows if he can play, including himself. His Uncle Stewart doesn’t think his nephew is capable of playing. I’ve asked Silas and he won’t give me a straight answer. I think he’s afraid he’ll jinx himself.”
“Does he know what’s on the line here if he can’t play?”
Broken Strings (A Rock Star Novel) Page 19
