by Wilson, Tia
Something about how assured she seemed didn’t feel right with Lana, and for the first time she didn't fully believe everything that Sara was telling her. She smiled and said, “Your right. We got clean away, there is no way they could find us. What have you been up to while I”m stuck in here?” Lana asked.
“Nothing much. I’ve walked up and down the length of the town a dozen times. Seen more swarms of tiny black flys than I’m comfortable with. Ate some semi stale sandwiches from a small supermarket. Walked some more and dodged some low flying birds that tried to dive bomb me. Can you tell I’m missing coffee shops, galleries, clothes shopping and everything the great city of New York has to offer? Country life is not for me. There is literally nothing to do in this town. Im going to have to get my hands on one of those tight bodied and ruddy faced farm hands I see toiling on the land outside my window. Anything to alleviate the boredom,” she said sighing dramatically.
“It’s not that bad is it?” Lana asked.
“I actually thinks its worse. The birds don't stop singing at night because of the midnight sun, so I’m waking up in the middle of the night with the noise of bird song invading my ears. There’s nothing to do or see. This place is pure and simply boring. It looks good on a postcard and that’s about it,” Sara said.
Lana did not want to point out that she had a near death experience only days ago and her sight was messed up until she healed. Sara would have these rants back home, constantly going on how things weren’t good enough or why had such a night not worked out how she wanted it. I used to find her put upon I’m so unlucky schtick amusing Lana thought to herself, now it was starting to grate on her. The oblivious way she complained about the lack of things to do in the town and all the walks she had taken, while Lana sat in the bed blinded and wishing she could be out walking in the sun by herself. When they were sharing the dorm room, things had bugged her about Sara, her seeming lack of empathy to people she deemed below her, the cutting sarcasm she sometimes employed when in a group of friends, and her well earned reputation for swiping men away from other women. Lana had put up with these traits and they never seemed too big a deal until now. Somehow being alone with her in a foreign country seemed to magnify and distort her personality and the longer she was in her presence the more Lana was starting to feel annoyed with her. We have to stick together if we want to get through this she thought, would Sara betray her if given a chance she wondered and Lana did not like the dark avenues that line of reasoning ventured down.
“I’m starting to get really tired. Do you mind if I take a nap?” Lana said.
“No, that’s fine with me,” Sara said and Lana could hear the relief in her voice that she wouldn't have to hang out with her too long.
“What’s your plans for the rest of the day?” Lana asked making herself comfortable in bed.
“I might go and practise my most winning smile on some of the country boys I saw working in the fields earlier. They probably wouldn't know what to do with a city girl like me,” she said laughing a slightly cruel laugh. “So will I see you back at the guesthouse tomorrow?” she asked.
“I think so. The Doctor said I should be let out early in the morning. I’ll still have my eyes bandaged. Can you come and get me around ten?” Lana asked.
“I’ll see you then,” Sara said. Lana was amazed she hadn't picked it up before, the cutting tone in Sara's voice that made it clear she was annoyed that she had to do anything to help Lana.
Once Sara was gone and Lana was in her room alone she felt a wave of relief wash over her. Would Sara ever betray her she thought to herself, could she be trusted to not give Lana up to save herself. Her conclusions made her feel uneasy and she began to doubt how true her friendship was with Sara. What if Gus cut her a deal in return for giving up Lana’s location so she would be free to go back home, after all Sara hadn’t done anything wrong. She had seen the video of the murder and fled. Was that enough to feel the sting of Gus’s retribution. I’m over thinking this whole thing Lana tried to convince herself. She had witnessed a sick and twisted business man committing murder, Gus would try to squash any copies of the tape in existence and he would then wash his hands of the whole operation. If Lana went public with the tape the grey haired business man would go to jail, she would be arrested and her family shamed and dragged through a tabloid cycle were her fathers own indiscretions would also be aired for all to see. I can’t do that to my family she thought, it would destroy them knowing what I had done for money. What about the young guy the business man killed she thought as a chill ran down her spine. What about his family, they probably don’t know what happened to him and might never find out. The video file was the only thing that could end the nightmare for his poor family.
Lana curled into a ball and pulled the blankets over her and began to sob. Every decision she made that got her to this place stuck in her like white hot needles. She wanted to erase her past, instead of entering the art gallery and meeting Gus for the first time, she wished she had of walked past and let her life unfold in a completely different way. She buried her head in the pillow and roared in anguish and pain, a deep throaty bellow from the bottom of her soul. She cursed the evil twisted men who used women as nothing more than playthings and shiny baubles to be acquired and then disposed of as the shine begun to tarnish. An alien sound half roar and half sob escaped her and was muffled by the pillow as images of the creepy men who paid to sleep with unconscious women danced behind her closed eyelids. She screamed and sobbed into her pillow until she could do it no more and she lay spent and exhausted on the bed. Lana felt no sense of release from her outburst, the breaking of the dam did not bring clarity to her and offer her a way out. She felt more alone and isolated then she ever thought possible. I have no other option but to run scared for my whole life, waiting for the knock on the door or the tap on my shoulder as my past life comes crashing back in ready to destroy me. She lay there feeling small and alone, curled up into a tight ball on the bed cradling herself, and yet whenever her mind returned to Einar and the kiss she somehow saw a tiny sliver of light illuminating the spreading dark of her existence.
Chapter 16
Brad didn’t like his contact as soon as he saw him crossing the car park. He had a couple of strands of greasy hair flicked over a bulbous dome of a skull. When he opened his mouth and smiled in Brads direction it was with a mouthful of teeth that hadn't been near a dentist in an age. He wore a cheap looking suit that was too baggy for his spindly frame and when Brad opened the door of his rental car he wasn't completely sure if the smell of onions and grease was coming from the man or the two hot dogs he was holding.
“Welcome to Iceland my friend,” he said as he got into the car. “A little taste of our fine cuisine,” he said passing Brad a hotdog in a cardboard sleeve. Brad nodded and took the dog which was slathered in an unappealing thick brown sauce. “Best in the world my friend. Clinton had one when he was here. That fat fucker gobbled it down. No disrespect meant of course,” he said winking at Brad.
“None taken. What do I call you?” Brad asked.
“My friends call me Jonsi. We are friends now,” he said raising his hot dog in a toast, “What do I call you my American friend?”
“Brad,” he said taking a bite out of the hotdog. Not bad he thought to himself as he chewed, whatever the mystery brown sauce was it worked well with the raw onions,hotdog and bun.
Jonsi took a massive bite from his and started to talk with his mouth full, “What do you think? Better then the cows anuses they feed you in America? The hotdogs here have lamb in them, nothing but the best for us vikings.”
He looks the furthest thing from a viking Brad thought to himself, he looked more like the kind of guy who would try to hustle you out of twenty bucks over a pool game. Jonsi was to be his main contact in Iceland, Gus had given him his number as someone who would be able to get him weapons if needed and to grease the palms of the local police if things went sideways. Gus had done some minor business with J
onsi nearly a decade ago when a shipment containing some stolen machine guns got held up in Iceland on the way from Europe to America. He was the king of that frozen ice cube of a country the last time my associates had to deal with those backwards people Gus had told him on a call when Brad first arrived in Reykjavik. He looked nothing like someone who had control over anything Brad thought, he wouldn't look out of place standing around a bus station begging for loose change.
“I didn’t know I was in a country known for its culinary excellence,” Brad said finishing off the completely average hot dog.
Jonsi stopped mid bite and looked at him with his red ringed and watery eyes that gave him a stunned fish like appearance. He burst out laughing and slapped his leg, “I can see we are going to get along my friend,” he said finishing up his hotdog with wet lip smacking bites.
Brad passed him an envelope with pictures of Lana and Sara. “I need to know where these girls are. They touched down a couple of days ago,” he said staring out at the building across from the car park. The structure was covered in glass hexagons and the sun reflected off them in dazzling pattens, it looks like a huge geometric beehive Brad thought as he stared across at it. He had a bad feeling about this whole job the moment he touched down in Keflavik airport. As he drove through the endless lava fields towards Reykjavik City the desolation of the landscape made him feel twitchy, as if someone was standing behind him and every time he turned they moved until they were just about out of his field of view. Stow that shit he told himself as he drove past the jagged volcanic rocks, you've been here before. He’d taken similar trips to clean up messes for his employers, he’d travel alone and return alone, such was the nature of his business. He’d once been in and out of Canada in less then ten hours to tie up some loose ends in the most final way possible. Something about crossing the border into another country creeped him out as he was faced with how far the tendrils of the black empire reached. It was an invasive species like the poisonous hogweed, once it took hold no amount of weeding or burning of the earth would stop its spread. The cops, the feds all of them where helpless in its path. Sometimes they managed to carve out green zones where the weeds had been hacked back to a safe distance. These areas of calm where nothing more than an unnatural man made structure giving you the illusion of safety. The weeds never stopped growing and if you turned your back for an instant they would sprout up in your perfectly manicured lawn.
“I can find them no problem. Iceland is a small place, everyone knows everyone. Give me a day or two and I should know where these pretty girls have got to. Do you need some artillery, I can hook you up for a reasonable price,” Jonsi said tracing his finger along the outline of the girls faces.
“A rifle with a scope, a knife and a new phone,” he said.
“Should be no problem. Will you be travelling back alone?” Jonsi asked rubbing the stubbled and loose skin under his chin.
Brad didn’t answer him and stared at the sun glinting off the building.
“You misunderstand my friend, I’m not trying to pry. Your business is yours alone. I ask because I have ways off this island if you need to do so under the radar. I have access to an offshore airstrip that can get you to Greenland if you need to leave here by the back door,” he said.
Brad had seen this before with other low level stooges he had dealt with. They were so eager to please in the hopes of getting a sniff of the pot that they would play all their cards immediately and promise him anything he needed. Look I am a powerful man in my own world helping out a friend in need was what they thought they were portraying to Brad. The reality was he could sniff out a low level wannabe from a mile off. This Jonsi guy might be able to get him a weapon and find the girls, but outside that he was nothing but the de facto king of a backwater country that held very little interest to Brads employers.
“I travel alone to the job and after it has nothing to do with you. After you get me my supplies it will be the last time I see you my friend,” Brad said.
“I can have the rifle to you by tonight. Where you staying?” he asked and Brad gave him a piece of paper with the hotels name written on it. “I’ll be there by midnight my friend. A little bit of advice for you, relax a little. As we say here in Iceland thetta reddast, it will be all right my uptight American friend,” he said leaving the car.
The stale smell of friend onions and processed meat hung in the car. Brad rolled down the window and the stench slowly dissipated. He was glad Jonsi was gone. There was something about him that didn't sit right with Brad, was it the near constant smile that kept threatening to bloom and expose his broken teeth as if he was in on a joke that Brad knew nothing about he wondered. There’s something about living on the underbelly of society that makes you alert to anything shiny that catches your attention, like a magpie lining its nest with bits of broken bottles and twisted metal strips of soda cans. Brad must look like the shiniest prize to have fallen into Jonsi’s lap in a long time and he could feel a shakedown rearing its head. Jonsi was going to make himself invaluable to Brad somehow in the hopes of a taste of the pot. If Jonsi proved how indispensable he was to Brad while he completed his task, maybe Brad would let his overlords know about Jonsi and some sugar would float his way. Brad knew that if Jonsi got in his way or tried to hamper him that he wouldn't hesitate to take him down and the powers that be back home wouldn't even register it. Jonsi was a bird standing on the back on an elephant, helpful for removing parasites only because the big grey lumbering beast allows it.
Chapter 17
Brad paced back and forth in his hotel room checking his watch every few minutes. It was already ten minutes past midnight. He pulled back the curtains and looked out across the mirror surface of the bay to a snow capped mountain in the distance. Mount Esja was its name and his hotel was named after it because of its unobstructed view across to it. When checking in the smiling and overly tanned receptionist had handed him a leaflet for the daily bus from the hotel to the mountains base. It’s then an easy hike to the top where you will have a beautiful view across to Reykjavik City and its out lying area she said in a robotic tone. Brad glanced at the leaflet in his hand and nodded tersely at her and she smiled an automatic smile containing no warmth. Me and you both Brad thought to himself, going through the motions. Looking out at the range of mountains Brad imagined jumping in his rental car and just driving away from the grim task ahead of him.
The sky was still as bright as day with the sun skimming across the peak of Mount Esja. Birds sang and apart from the lack of traffic on the road it felt like it could be the middle of the day.
His face was reflected back at him in the glass and he looked at it barely recognising himself. Brad looked drawn and haggard with a few days of stubble, under his eyes were heavy black rings. I can’t do this much longer he thought taking out his notebook and running his finger over its well worn pages. Six months, maybe a year at most he would be out from under his debts and he could turn away from the maw before he was completely swallowed. Someone knocked on his door and he approached it silently. Through the peephole he could see Jonsi standing there holding a bag, distorted through the lens he seemed more scarecrow than man.
As soon as Brad opened the door and let him into the room he started talking, “My friend you look rough. Do you want me to sort you out with a pick me up? Maybe some girls to help you relax. I have Polish,Latvians, Africans if you like the darker meat, boys if thats your thing. I don't judge,” he said with another of his watery eyed winks.
“I only need what I ordered from you today,” he said pouring himself a glass of coke. “How does anyone sleep around here when the sun never sets?” Brad asked.
“We Icelanders don't sleep during the summer. This is when we recharge for the long and dark winters ahead. Who would want to sleep and miss all this,” he said motioning to the clear sky outside of the window.
“What have you found out?” Brad asked.
“Good news my friend. I know exactly where they are. They did
n't hang around Reykjavik when they arrived, they got on a bus and headed south along the coast. They are holed up in a small rural town,” Jonsi replied.
“How fresh is this intel and how sure is your source?” Brad said.
“All I know is they arrived a few days ago by bus. Chances are they will still be there, it’s the only town of note anywhere in that part of the country. Inland is nothing but wasteland, so they will have stayed somewhere along the coast. Even if they have left Vik they have only one way to go and thats to continue on the main road that circles the country. Everything else you asked for is in the bag. I’ve included maps with all the major towns along the ring road. Vik is a small place, maybe two hundred people. Someone will have seen them. Not too many black people in Iceland my friend, that one will be easy to trace.”
