Darkest Thoughts

by Gordon Brown

  Lendl leaps to his feet. Tampoline is holding his head and rolls over. Blood is pouring between his fingers. Lendl steps back. He double-steps towards Tampoline and launches a sixty-yard, three-seconds-to-go, last-ditch, fourth down, Hail Mary. He takes Tampoline in the crotch and there is no way he hasn’t broken a few toes. Tampoline – airless – spasms in agony. His hands fly from his face as his body concentrates on the area under attack. His eyes are gone.

  Lendl limps back a little, hopping on his good foot. He kneels to pick up the syringe. He looks at me but there is no recognition. His eyes are blank. He circles Tampoline who is curled into a ball. With a flourish he lifts the needle into the night air. High above the curled ball of the senator.

  Then it starts down.

  As it falls I watch it. A single drop of dark fluid flies into the air. The needle descends and then, at the very last instant – the very, very last instant – it veers away from the senator and Lendl thrusts the needle into his own leg and stabs down on the plunger. He empties it.

  Something goes off inside his chest and he’s dead before he starts to drop.

  I can no longer keep my eyes open and, as Lendl dies, my head flashes, the blue world gone.

  The crowd noise takes on a new dimension.

  Stunned silence.

  Chapter 41

  Charlie speaks. ‘Dead?’

  He’s probably right.

  Another voice. ‘Not yet.’

  Not right. I’m dead.

  Charlie responds. ‘Amazing.’

  My arm bristles as it’s brushed.

  Smell.

  Bad taste in the mouth.

  A beep – regular.

  I open my eyes and the hospital engulfs me.

  ‘Welcome back.’ Charlie is sitting next to me, a nurse standing above him.

  I try speaking but I’m out of spit. The nurse reaches over and fills a cup from a jug of water. She passes it to me. I swallow enough to produce sound.

  ‘Hi,’ I squawk.

  ‘Hi yourself,’ she says.

  I drift off and drift back. I note the drip feeding me nutrients and drift off again. I lose count of how many times I do this. The time between each sleep stretches. But every time I waken Charlie is always there.

  This time it’s dark outside. ‘Any chance of some food?’

  Charlie hits a button and the nurse appears. He points at me. ‘Your patient wants some sustenance.’

  ‘I’ll see what I can do.’

  I ask Charlie to help me sit up.

  Once up I slump back a little. ‘Ok, so why am I alive, what happened to Tampoline and Lendl, did they lock you up, how did you escape, what went on in the stadium, where are the suits, why are you here, do they allow JD and Coke in this place?’

  ‘Hang on soldier. One thing at a time.’

  Charlie pulls his chair a little closer, checking that the door is closed. I’m not sure why I’m in a private room. I’m fairly sure my health insurance doesn’t cover this. ‘And?’ I want some answers.

  ‘The stadium was a mess. Biggest story in years. One hundred and twenty dead, thousands injured and no reason found.’

  ‘Me!’

  ‘Yes but the media don’t know that. They’re having a field day. Mass hysteria. A terrorist plot. Something in the water. Drugged hot dogs. A government experiment. No one knows. They are calling it the Tropicana Terror, or the TT.’

  ‘Yeah but the suits know it was me.’

  ‘Maybe.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘So why are you lying here and not in some cell?’

  ‘I’ve no idea.’ I’m hoping Charlie has an answer. ‘Lendl?’

  ‘Dead. Tampoline is alive but in a bad way. Both victims of the TT.’

  ‘No suits sitting outside my door?’

  ‘I can’t figure that. My best guess is that Lendl and Tampoline kept you a secret. Your trip to the theater was a black op of the blackest type. Need to know only.’

  ‘Need to know? There were endless suits involved.’

  ‘Grunts I would guess.’

  ‘And they don’t talk to each other?’

  ‘No idea. All I know is that I’ve been here over a week and there hasn’t been a single suit.’

  ‘Has it been that long?’

  ‘Longer. They didn’t find me for two days. No one thought to check broom closets while they were trying to sort out the TT. I had a few days in hospital before I was let go. It took me another few days to find out you were alive. The health system was swamped.’

  ‘Tampoline knows I’m alive and he knows what I can do.’

  ‘Sure, but he has other things to worry about. From what I read he’s blind and won’t be beating off while abusing girls anytime in the near future.’

  ‘Good. I wonder what the history was between Tampoline and Lendl?’

  ‘Do you care?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘I think you should get on the road as soon as you can.’

  ‘Charlie, I killed all those people.’

  ‘Maybe. Maybe not. There isn’t a court in this land that would find you guilty.’

  ‘They will. Whatever it is that I do is not going away. Laws are for re-writing and they’ll re-write them for me.’

  ‘Hard one to prove. At the moment it would be their word against yours.’

  ‘All they have to do is drug me up again, video it and show the authorities what happens. I’ll be dumped in the deepest hole for the rest of my life.’

  ‘What do you want me to say? You need to move on.’

  ‘That won’t stop them looking for me.’

  ‘I know but what else can you do?’

  I say nothing.

  Chapter 42

  Outside, the wind is slicing through the trees. A constant keening sound as a backdrop to the silence in the backwater cabin I’m sitting in. The log fire is doing its best to fight the sub-zero temperature that wraps the building. Charlie is sitting as close as he can to the flames, reading a novel. I’m watching the fire dance.

  We crossed the Canadian border a week ago and Charlie found the cabin while I was lying in my thirtieth hotel bed in as many days. It’s a summer retreat for some family living in Toronto. It had been shut up for the winter. As Charlie points out, it’s cheaper than a hotel and, if our luck holds, it may be weeks before someone spots the smoke from the chimney and decides to investigate.

  Charlie flicks a page as a log spits an ember onto the hearth. I’m thinking about Lorraine and the simple fact that Tampoline is still alive. I think about that a lot. Charlie tells me I should leave well alone but a life on the run is no life. For all I know we may not even be wanted. No suits on the road looking for us. So why run?

  But that feels wrong. Tampoline knows what I can do and he knows I am responsible for what happened to him. A few days ago we caught an article in USA Today about the return of the senator to the floor of the Capitol. He received a standing ovation.

  Charlie sighs. I add my sigh to the night. I know I can’t keep running. I stand and walk over to him. I squat next to the fire. He looks down. He smiles and I know that somehow this has to be sorted.

  But for now the road will need to be my friend.

  I hope it’s a friendship with a happy future.

  Gordon Brown

  Gordon splits his time between Scotland, the USA and Spain. Married with two children, he once quit his job in London to fly across the Atlantic to be with his future wife.

  He has delivered pizzas in Toronto, sold non-alcoholic beer in the Middle East, established creativity training business Brain Juice and floated a high tech company on the London Stock Exchange. He has an MBA and once almost had a toy launched by a major toy company.

  Gordon loves music, is a DJ on local radio and compered the main stage at a two-day music festival. He is especially proud of having been booed by 49,000 people while on the pitch at a major football Cup Final.

  Gordon has been writing since his teens. As well as appearing a
t lots of book festivals, he also helped found one – Bloody Scotland, Scotland’s International Crime Writing Festival – and regularly chairs events.