Running from the Dead

by Mike Knowles

  “There. It’s settled. Well, it’s almost settled.” He gripped the gun tighter and a small tremor shook the barrel. “Get on your knees.”

  Jones looked at the girl. “I’m sorry, Lauren. I tried. I really did.”

  “I’m not going to ask you again,” Tony said.

  Jones remembered Kevin McGregor on his knees and stayed standing. “I know.”

  He was surprised to realize that he didn’t think about whether it would hurt; instead, he wondered if he would hear the shot. He doubted it.

  The sharp bang made his body tense. It took Jones a second to realize it wasn’t a gunshot.

  Tony, looking suddenly less sure of himself, was looking around the room for the source of the noise.

  “Behind you,” Jones said.

  Tony turned just enough to see the Willy standing on a ladder pointing a gun at him.

  “Drop the gun,” Willy yelled. The window was thin and the sound carried through it just fine.

  Tony began to move the gun away from Jones and toward the window and the next bang from the butt of the revolver broke the window. This time, Willy didn’t have to raise his voice at all. “Maybe you didn’t hear me. I said, drop the gun.”

  “Who the fuck are you?”

  “A peeping Tom who didn’t like what he was peeping. Listen, I’m standing here on a ladder with a gun in my hand. I don’t have all night. Drop the piece.”

  Tony thought about it.

  “This thing is wobbly as hell, so I need you to make a choice because if it comes down to shooting you or falling, I’m going to shoot you and get off this ladder.”

  Tony looked at Lauren and then dropped the gun. “This is all your fault.”

  “I guess we skipped plan B and moved right to plan C,” Willy said. “Who could have predicted that? Oh, wait, I think I did.”

  Jones ignored the bank robber. He looked at the kid on the bed. “You ready to go?”

  Lauren looked at Jones and then at Tony. Jones let out a sigh of relief when she got off the bed. The relief ended when she picked up the gun and pointed it at Jones.

  “No.”

  Tony smiled. “I told you. She’s my girl.”

  She pointed the gun at Tony. “No.”

  “Where is this going?” Willy said from the other side of the room.

  “For the first time in a long time, anywhere I want it to.”

  “What do you want, Lauren?” Jones asked.

  “I want to be done with this. All of this.”

  Jones was afraid she was going to kill herself right there in front of them, but the gun stayed pointed in Tony’s direction.

  “You want to be done with all of this? You want to go back to what it was like before you met me, is that it? You want to go back on the street? Because that’s where you were. You want to go back to blowing guys in cars? Because that is what you were doing. I gave you a place to live. I gave you food to eat. You were on the streets starving, freezing, dying. You would have too, if it wasn’t for me. You needed me to save you, and you still do—you just don’t know it.”

  The last words punched Jones in the stomach. They could have been his.

  Jones had wanted to think that he and Tony were nothing alike, but maybe that wasn’t true. Like the pimp, he had thought Lauren needed saving, and he had thought he was the only one who could help her. Jones wondered how many people in her life had hurt her because they had felt they had the right to decide things for her? Tony had been out for himself and so had Jones. He didn’t want to use Lauren for money, or her body, but he was using her. His intentions were good, but they were still his and not hers. Jones knew then that he couldn’t save Lauren. It had to be her. She had to choose what she wanted for herself.

  “If you want to be through with all of this,” Jones said. “Walk away. No one will stop you.”

  Tony’s laugh was a harsh bark. “Where are you gonna go? What are you gonna do without me looking out for you? You don’t even have enough money to ride the bus.”

  Jones could tell that Lauren wanted to say something back that would prove him wrong, but she stayed quiet.

  She looked at Tony for a long time and then she said, “Give me your wallet.”

  Tony bared his teeth and Jones heard him force his breath through the spaces. He turned his hip. “You know where I keep it. Come and get it.”

  Lauren didn’t move. The gun in her hand didn’t make her any less afraid of getting close to Tony.

  Jones understood the play, so did Willy. From the window, he said, “As the only other person with a gun in this conversation, I think I should have a say. Why don’t you let him get the wallet?”

  Lauren looked at Willy and saw that he meant Jones. When she looked at Jones, he could tell that she liked the idea. “Do it.”

  Tony glared at Jones and drew his hip back. Jones walked forward and looked the pimp’s jeans over. The artificially distressed pants were tight and Jones could easily make out the outline of the wallet. Sliding the wallet out of the tight space would require getting close to Tony; it would also provide several opportunities for Tony to change the odds. Jones stopped a foot away from Tony and reached for the pocket. He jammed four fingers into the opening and yanked back as hard as he could. The jeans ripped with a loud pop and Tony’s wallet and phone fell to the floor.

  Lauren snickered.

  “What the fuck?”

  Jones ignored Tony and kicked the billfold and phone away from the pimp.

  “Keys too,” Jones said.

  “She didn’t ask for my keys.”

  Jones looked over his shoulder at Lauren.

  “Give him your keys,” she said.

  Tony didn’t wait for Jones to rip his pocket. He pulled the BMW’s keys out of his pocket and dropped them onto the floor.

  “Oops.”

  Willy groaned. “I know you think you’re being clever, but you’re really just embarrassing yourself and keeping me on this ladder longer than I want to be. You pull one more stunt and I’m going to shoot you in the ass. Understand?”

  Tony flicked a glance at Willy and smirked.

  Willy thumbed back the hammer and the smirk vanished. “I’m going to need you to say it.”

  “I understand.”

  “Super.”

  Jones used the toe of his shoe to slide the keys across the floor toward the wallet and phone. He stepped back, picked everything up, and handed the items to Lauren. She hadn’t thought everything through and she clumsily mashed Tony’s things against her chest while she tried to keep the gun pointed at the pimp. Jones stepped around her and pulled a pillow case off one of the pillows. The material was so cheap it was almost transparent. He went to Lauren and held the bag open. “Put them in here.”

  Lauren dropped Tony’s things inside and took the bag. Jones went into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. He extended his arm and saw from the look on Lauren’s face that she was surprised. He shrugged. “Take it. There’s not much cash, and I don’t think I’ll be needing my ID anytime soon.”

  Jones hoped Lauren was alert enough to have heard the emphasis he put on the word ID.

  “Sit on the bed, Tony,” Jones said.

  “Fuck you.”

  Lauren jabbed the gun toward Tony. “Do it,” she said.

  “Fuck you too.”

  Willy put a bullet into the dresser next to Tony. The noise made everyone jump, and Jones worried Lauren would pull the trigger accidently. She didn’t.

  “Holy shit!” Willy came close to losing his balance, and the ladder shimmied back and forth as he tried to find it. “Next one is in your ass.”

  “Get on the bed,” Jones said.

  Tony did as he was told.

  Jones looked at Lauren. “You wanted to be through with this. You have cash and a car. I’d say this is your sh
ot.”

  “Speaking of shots,” Willy said. “Can we get out of here before someone calls that last one in? I have no desire to go back to prison.”

  “You should go,” Jones said.

  Lauren took a step toward the door.

  “I am going to find you,” Tony said. “I am going to find you and I am going to do things to you. Horrible things.”

  Lauren froze.

  “But I could forgive you, baby girl. I really could. I know these guys got in your ear. I know this isn’t you.”

  Lauren looked at Tony.

  “Shoot that old man and give me the gun. That’s it. Do that and I will forgive you. I’ll forgive everything.”

  Jones watched Lauren think about it.

  “Everything will be like it was. I promise.”

  It was the promise that thawed her. “I believe you, and that’s why I’m leaving.”

  Lauren moved to the door, keeping a wide berth from Tony.

  “Don’t you walk away from me, baby girl. Don’t you do it.”

  Lauren didn’t look back; even when Tony screamed her name to the night.

  “What do we do with him?” Willy said.

  “We keep him here until Lauren is gone. Then he can walk.”

  “We should kill him,” Willy said.

  “You know I can hear you, right?”

  “Then you know I think you should be dead.”

  “No,” Jones said. “No one else needs to die.”

  Willy screamed, “Behind you,” and Jones reacted a few seconds too late.

  Marvin brought the blood-stained shower curtain down over Jones’ head and pulled it tight. The vinyl fabric formed a tight seal around Jones’ head and he felt his breath catch in his throat. The much bigger man tightened his grip on the curtain and used it to swing Jones back and forth like a dog shaking a rat. Jones had no choice but to grab at the huge hands around his neck and hold on. Marvin swung Jones’ head into the wall, and he felt the drywall cave as his skull hit it; Jones rebounded and momentum and brute force lifted his body into the air. He came down on the dresser and the furniture collapsed to the ground like a building being demolished. Jones clawed at the hands around his neck, but the pressure didn’t relent. He was hauled to his feet and sent airborne again. This time, Jones didn’t hit the wall, or the furniture—he hit the window, or at least he would have if there had still been glass in it. Instead, Jones crashed into something that gave almost instantly with a loud scream.

  Suddenly, Jones felt himself falling, and he groped for anything to anchor him. Glass bit into his palm and Jones roared as he squeezed his hand tighter around the side of the window frame. He pulled himself upright and ripped the curtain from his face. In front of him was an empty black rectangle. Jones screamed Willy’s name and leaned out the window as far as he could. He could make out the Jeep in the gloom below, but not Willy. The Google Earth shot he had looked at on his phone had been taken in the daytime in the middle of summer when the untended grass of the vacant lot next door had been baked dry in the sun. The cooler weather had given the weeds that had been lying dormant in dirt the opportunity to rebound, and they had grown tall enough to swallow the old man whole. As he pulled himself back through the window, his eye caught sight of a flash of silver. The cheap ladder had slid sideways with the intention of falling a few seconds behind Willy, but a ridge on the worn decorative column of brickwork separating the unit from its neighbour had snagged it.

  Jones straightened and turned toward the door; he stopped when he saw Marvin on the other side of the room. Jones scanned the space and saw that Tony was gone. The big man was pale and his midsection was stained black with blood. Jones knew from the colour that the wound was serious, and he was surprised Marvin was able to stand let alone throw him around the room. He pointed at the blood. “You need to get to a hospital before you bleed to death.”

  His words had no effect; Marvin didn’t move, but Jones saw him sway a little.

  “The girl is gone, so is Tony’s ride. That means the only thing that can help you now is an ambulance.” Jones looked at the phone on the bedside table. “You need to forget about me and make the call.”

  “I told you he doesn’t talk,” Tony said on his way back through the door. “He won’t do it, not even to save his own life. My man is committed. So was my girl. At least, she was until you showed up.”

  “She’s gone?” Jones said.

  Tony nodded. “She stole my car just like you told her. She took my money just like you told her. All of this after she stabbed me just like you told her. I bet you’re real proud of yourself.”

  Jones looked around the room, lingering on the window. He didn’t know if his partner was alive or dead and he had no idea where Lauren was headed. Nothing had gone to plan. “No,” he said. “I’m not.”

  “I’m not going to lie, that makes me feel a bit better. But you know what would make me feel a lot better?”

  Jones had an idea what it was.

  “If you couldn’t feel anything.”

  He was right.

  “Marvin, kill him.”

  Marvin lurched forward with none of the grace that he possessed when Jones first put eyes on him.

  Instead of backing up, Jones ran at Marvin and left the ground to cover the last few feet with his knee leading the way. Despite the blood loss and trauma, Marvin was still fast and he had no trouble shoving Jones aside before he could make contact. Jones hit the ground hard and immediately began to scramble back to his feet. Marvin lunged at Jones while his back was turned and unloaded a vicious overhand right to Jones’ kidneys that drove the air out of his lungs but elicited a louder grunt of pain from Marvin. The mute staggered back, clutching the black spot on his shirt and Jones lashed out with a kick that connected with Marvin’s torso. The kick to the open wound pitched Marvin forward and gave Jones enough time to grab hold of the other man’s belt. He rammed Marvin into the vacant space that had once been a window, but the big man didn’t go out. His two long arms were able to splay and grab onto the walls on either side of the window and stop his momentum. Jones let go of Marvin’s belt and hooked a fist into his exposed core. Marvin had been concentrating on the window and the sudden blow to the hole in his abdomen surprised him. Jones hit him a second time and Marvin took his hands off the wall to cover up. He realized his mistake when Jones went for his ankles instead of his body. Jones scooped up the tall man’s spider legs and tipped him out the window and into the night.

  Jones turned, panting hot breath and seeing red. For a second, he was confused because it seemed like Tony could see it too. The pimp glanced up at the ceiling and then looked over his shoulder.

  Tony said, “Shit,” and then he ran out the door.

  Jones saw the red light flicker and understood that the red wasn’t coming from him; it was coming from the police car that had just pulled into the lot. Jones crossed the room and pushed the damaged door back into the frame as best he could. He went back to the window and saw that the blackness outside had not been stained red; there was only the one squad car for now. Jones leaned out the window and managed to grab hold of the ladder without falling. He pulled the ladder back into place and reversed onto the rungs.

  Jones yelled for Willy before he touched the ground and he heard the old man grunt a reply.

  “He’s here,” Sheena said.

  Jones turned his head toward the voice and made out a dark form that turned out to be Sheena. She was kneeling beside Willy who had landed on the ground, a few feet away from the Jeep.

  “I think I fucking broke my hip.”

  Jones rolled the bank robber onto his back and the old man screamed. He forced his hand over his mouth to silence him.

  “We need to call an ambulance,” Sheena said.

  “We need to go.”

  “But—”

  “He’s rig
ht,” Willy said. “We have to get out of here.”

  “Can you get up?”

  “Not on my own.”

  “This is going to hurt,” Jones said as he wrapped an arm around Willy’s back.

  “I got news for ya, kid. It already hurts.”

  “I’m sorry,” Jones said as he slid his hands under Willy’s knees.

  Willy managed not to scream when Jones lifted him. “I’m not complaining,” he said. “It could have been worse. Look how things turned out for that guy.”

  Jones looked over and saw Marvin’s leg on the other side of the Jeep. He had been so focused on Willy, that he hadn’t thought to look for the other man.

  Jones walked around the Jeep with Willy in his arms and saw Marvin with his face in the dirt and his brains on the bumper. There was a lot of blood, and Jones was careful to step around it.

  “Get in the car, Sheena. We need to go.”

  Sheena’s knees were rigid and her arms were crossed tightly against her chest. Jones figured it was the first dead body she had ever seen. The dead always made a hell of a first impression.

  Jones put Willy into the Jeep and stowed the ladder. He eased the rear door shut and then positioned himself between Sheena and Marvin.

  Jones kept his voice level. “What is your job?”

  Sheena didn’t answer.

  Jones asked the question again. “What is your job, Sheena?”

  She looked at him. “What?”

  “Why are you here?”

  She thought about it for a second. “I’m supposed to be the getaway driver.”

  “That’s right. Right now, we need to getaway, Sheena. Things went sideways up there and we have to leave.”

  Fear widened Sheena’s eyes. “Lauren!”

  “She got out.”

  Sheena looked around at what she already knew was there and what she knew wasn’t. “Where did she go?”

  Jones put a hand on Sheena’s arm. “She left. Just like we need to do.”

  Sheena risked another look at Marvin’s body and then nodded. Jones got into the passenger seat, and a second later, Sheena was behind the wheel. She drove slowly across the dark vacant lot, but not slow enough to keep Willy from screaming after each bump. Sheena got back on the road, and as they passed the motel on the way to the highway, Jones saw that a second police car was in the lot. One of the cops was speaking to a man outside the motel office, the other was climbing the stairs. Neither cop looked over at the Jeep as it turned right toward the gas station and the highway on-ramp.