The roommates’ voices were coming closer again and Ramon heard their footsteps. He stopped moving, slumped down and played dead.
“You are too stupid, dude. Why didn’t you write it down?”
“Why’s it my fault? You could have done it.”
Ramon lay quietly, waiting for the fighting to start. But this time, it didn’t.
“Okay, man, you’re right. Let’s not fight about it.” It was Frank’s voice. “We can get the number. We just got to be cool and we’ll be getting the cash.”
“Yeah, you’re right, Frank.”
“Just call information and ask for the TV station. They’ll have it.” The footsteps moved further away. “I just wish the Dweeb would show up. Then we’d have the whole package.”
There was a plopping sound as they flopped down on the couch. Ramon heard the beeping of the phone as they punched in the number.
“Yeah, uh, I want the number for that TV station… uh, the one with the show about…”
“Give me the phone, moron.”
Ramon listened as Frank talked with the operator, asking for the number of a TV station. Why were they calling a TV station? Something had happened. Now they knew who he was. They’d talked about money. Was there a reward on their heads? He strained to listen as Frank repeated the number and punched it in.
“Yeah, I need the hot line number for that most wanted show.”
It took about a minute before he got the number and hung up. Ramon tried not to move as Frank punched in the new number. Someone on the other line picked up.
“What’s it take to get the reward, man?” Frank barked into the phone. There was a long silence, then, “Well I’ve got ‘em. They’re tied up in my living room right now.” He talked a little longer, answering their questions and giving the address of the house and some quick directions. He ended the conversation with, “Yeah, it’s them, there’s no doubt about it. I got their guns and everything.”
Frank slammed the phone down with excitement.
“All right, Jelly boy! We got the cash coming. They’re sending out a special team. They’ll be here within an hour.” He shifted his weight off the couch and onto his feet. “If we’re gonna have some fun, we got to have it now.”
Ramon listened to the footsteps as they moved toward him. He tensed, expecting contact. But nothing happened. The footsteps moved past him. For a moment, he felt a sense of relief. Then Lena moaned.
“Shut up, bitch. You’ve been asking for this.”
Ramon heard the slap of a hand on flesh, then the sound of ripping fabric. A surge of anger rushed through his body. He strained against his restraints, not caring if they saw him or not. The sheets were looser than before, but he was still held tight.
“I dunno, Frank. We could get in trouble for this.” Jelly sounded worried.
“Shut up. No one’s going to do nothing. This bitch is a murderer. They’re not going to believe her. What are they going to do?”
Lena groaned again.
Ramon felt the sheets slackening. He gripped an end in his hand and tried to move it through, searching for the knot. He could now move easily inside the sheets. He was ready to make his move. He was about to stand up and try to tear the sheets off, when he heard a noise from the other end of the house. The front door opening. He stopped moving and stiffened. Had the people from the TV come so quickly?
“Uh, hi. Is uh, anybody home?” It was Philip. Ramon stayed motionless.
“It’s the Dweeb. Let’s get him.”
The roommates clomped past Ramon as they hurried out to the hallway. There was a thud. It sounded like they’d thrown Philip against the wall. They were yelling, but Ramon didn’t pay any attention to the words. He forced himself to his feet and shimmied his body as he tore at the sheets. It took a minute, but he was able to get the whole tangled mess over his head. He was free.
Quickly, he scanned the room. The roommates were in the hallway, screaming at Philip. Lena was on the floor in the corner. Her blouse was ripped open in the front and her arms and legs were wrapped tight with orange electrical cords. She was gagged and a small streak of blood ran down from the corner of her mouth. Ramon looked into her eyes. They showed fear mixed with relief. Ramon glanced behind him—it was still clear. He reached down and unraveled the cord.
“Are you all right?” he whispered.
She nodded as she reached up to remove the gag. “We’ve got to get out of here.”
“I know. Wait here.”
The roommates were still yelling in the hallway.
Frank shouted, “You could‘ve got us killed, you dumb shit! You brought killers into our house.”
Ramon glanced about the room, looking for anything he could use as a weapon. There was a fireplace against the far wall. It looked like it hadn’t been used in years, but there was an old poker leaning against the hearth. It was black cast iron with a flat shovel at the end. He quickly picked it up, gripping it like a baseball bat.
The noise from the hallway was coming full blast. Frank and Jelly’s yelling were punctuated with thuds and sobs.
“You’re toast, Dweeb!”
Ramon took a deep breath, then stepped into the hall. They swiveled their heads and looked at him in surprise. Ramon swung the poker overhand, coming down hard on Frank’s arm. Frank cried out in pain and dropped to the floor, clutching his arm.
Jelly raised his gun. Ramon reacted by swinging again, aiming for Jelly’s arm. Jelly moved in anticipation, but the poker still caught him, hitting his huge stomach. Thwack. The gun went off as Jelly grunted in pain. The bullet missed Ramon, but Frank howled in pain again.
Ramon swung again. This time, he hit the gun, knocking it out of Jelly’s hand and sending it clattering to the floor. He tried to swing again, but he didn’t get the chance. Jelly came on him like a rabid dog. He grabbed Ramon’s wrist and pried the poker out of his hand. His strength was amazing.
“You asshole!”
Jelly flattened him against the wall, leaning in with his huge body so Ramon couldn’t move. Ramon choked at the smell of the fat man’s beery breath. Jelly locked his hands on Ramon’s neck and squeezed. Ramon couldn’t breathe. He sputtered, struggling. He tried to move—but couldn’t. He felt the pressure in his eyes. He was sure his head would burst or he’d choke on his own tongue. Jelly smiled and squeezed harder. Ramon felt lightheaded and knew he was about to pass out, when the expression on Jelly’s face suddenly changed. There was look of disbelief. Then, his eyes glazed over. He released his grip and fell to the ground.
Ramon panted for breath. It took him a second to realize what had happened. Philip stood in the middle of the hall, a shocked expression on his face and the poker in his hands. Philip smiled, then dropped the poker and stepped away.
Frank was propped against the wall, sobbing. His right arm hung limp and the bullet had caught him in the thigh. Ramon bent down to examine it. The pants were soaked in blood and the wound bled freely, but it wasn’t spurting.
“We’ve got to get out of here.” It was Lena. She’d moved into the hall holding their bag. “We don’t have much time. They’re already on their way.”
“I know. This’ll just take a minute.” Ramon ran back into the living room and grabbed his sheet. As he walked back to the hallway, he ripped a shred of it off. He bent back down and tied it tightly around Frank’s leg. “This will hold for now. Twist on the knot if you need it tighter. You’ll live.”
Frank just moaned. Ramon looked down at Jelly. His chest moved up and down with regular breaths. “Okay, let’s move.”
Philip stepped up. “I broke the code.”
“What?” It didn’t register.
“I broke the code. I deciphered the tape.” He looked over at Lena with a strange smile. “ It’s just like you said, the proof is all there. I printed it out.”
He handed over a thick file and a copy of the computer tape.
Ramon took it. He wanted to look through it, learn its secrets. But they didn’t hav
e time. “We need to leave now. You’ve got to go too. You’re part of this now. If they find you, you’re dead.”
“I’m sorry we got you into this.” Lena said.
Philip smiled again, a serene smile. “No, this is cool. I’ve always believed in conspiracies, that things weren’t what they seemed, and people always laughed at me when I told them. Now I know I was right.”
“We’ve got to go now,” Ramon said again. Frank was still staring off into space and sobbing. Jelly lay on his side, breathing deeply. “Where are the keys to their car?” he asked.
“They’re in the kitchen. I’ll get them for you.”
As Philip moved quickly toward the kitchen, Ramon turned to Lena. “Are you all right?”
She nodded. “I’ll be fine.”
Philip returned and handed them the key ring to the roommates’ car along with a handful of cash. “Take this. You’ll need some money.”
They’d already taken too long. They quickly left the house and went to the cars.
“Will you be okay, Philip?”
Philip just smiled and nodded as he got into his car and started the engine, and pulled away.
The roads were clear and they made good time. On the interstate they blended in with traffic as they went through central Milwaukee, heading south. The overhead lights of the street lamps bathed the road in a yellow glow. Lena opened the window a crack to get some air. The yeasty smell of baking bread filled the car as they drove past a brewery.
They hadn’t said a word since leaving Philip’s. It was so sudden. In the time they’d been there, they’d settled into a pattern. As strange as the situation was, it started to feel normal. She knew it was an illusion, but she’d started to think that they were safe. Now that feeling was gone. They were running again.
Lena knew how lucky they were. They were still being hunted and they’d probably escaped just in time. Somehow, they’d beaten the odds again. Somehow, they were still alive. But how much longer could they keep it up? They were out of options. There was no way they could keep this up forever. They needed help and there was no one left for them to turn to. Lena took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. She wasn’t scared anymore. She was past that. Now she just felt sad and tired and wished the whole thing was over.
She glanced over at Ramon. He was intent on his driving, eyes focused on the road, both hands on the wheel. What was he thinking? Was he scared? He didn’t seem to be, but who could tell? He’d never say if he was, and talk wasn’t his strong suit anyway. He’d taken control again. He was a survivor. By force of will and quick response, he always pulled through.
Traffic thinned as they moved away from the city. South of Milwaukee, they saw signs for the airport. Ramon checked the rear view mirror.
“We can’t keep this car much longer. They’re probably looking for it by now.”
Lena nodded. She didn’t have the energy to even talk. Ramon turned off at the airport exit and followed the signs for long-term parking. At the gate, they collected a ticket from the machine and drove inside. They moved through a long aisle, past row upon row of parked cars. Ramon found a secluded space at the far end of the lot and pulled the car in.
“If we get lucky, they won’t find this for a week,” he said. “Let’s grab our stuff. We need to go.”
Lena didn’t move. She couldn’t. After everything that happened, she felt numb. It was too much effort to go on. She just wanted to sit in that spot and pretend that everything was all right—but she knew it wasn’t. Tears welled up in her eyes. Without meaning to, she let out a sob.
“Are you okay?” Ramon asked. His voice showed his concern. He reached over and softly touched her arm.
The touch was reassuring. Just the brush of his fingers on her skin and she felt better. Lena took hold of his hand and squeezed lightly. That was the truth, she felt better whenever he was close. She hadn’t realized it before. Since they’d been thrown together, she’d been trying to deny the attraction she felt. In her old life, she wouldn’t have given him a second thought—they were too different. But the attraction was there, too fierce to ignore. He was so strong, she needed his strength if she was to go on. And together, they were so much stronger.
Lena squeezed his hand again and pulled him, ever so slightly, toward her. Their eyes locked. Ramon moved his hand up to the base of her neck, lightly caressing her with his fingertips, then pulled her in close. Lena squeezed him tightly and rested her head against his shoulder. She felt better just holding him, smelling him and feeling the texture of his skin against her cheek. As strange as it was, fate had thrown them together, and now she realized she needed him. She turned her head and brushed her lips against his neck, tasting the salt.
Ramon ran his fingers through her hair, then softly pulled away.
"We've got to go, " he said.
The driveway was empty as Cain pulled up to the house. The porch light was on. It splashed a yellow glow that illuminated the front door but left the rest of the porch in shadows. Lights were on inside the house, but the neighborhood seemed quiet. Cain breathed a sigh of relief as he stepped out of the car. On the trip up, he’d had visions of being too late, of arriving to find that the local police had taken the call and beat him to the prize. But everything looked normal. No patrol cars, no news crews. They’d made it up before news leaked out.
Cain had three men with him—all that was left of his team. Just Ortman and two sergeants he hardly knew, one blonde, one dark. It wasn’t enough to do the job properly, but it was all he had. But if the tip was right, if his targets were really inside, then it wouldn’t matter anymore. He’d take care of everything. He’d do the job right this time. He’d restore his reputation and be back on the colonel’s good side.
“All right, you check out the back and keep watch outside,” Cain addressed the dark haired sergeant. “I don’t want any surprises. If it sounds like we’re having trouble inside, then move on in. Otherwise, just make sure the exits are covered and no one’s able to come in or get out. Got it?”
The sergeant nodded and silently drifted back into the dark of the yard. Cain took out his handgun and moved toward the porch. He turned to Ortman and the other sergeant. “Let’s see what’s goin’ on in there.”
On the porch, he prepared to bust the door open but tried the knob first. It was unlocked. “Let’s go!”
He threw the door open and came in low, his gun in front, the blonde sergeant a step behind. Ortman was positioned in back of the door providing cover. There was a small foyer that led into a long hallway. The hallway light was on.
Cain knew there was a problem as soon as he was in. In the dim light, he could make out two figures. Halfway down the hall, propped up against the wall, was a dark-haired man. His arms hanging limply to his side, his leg soaked with blood. Standing over him was a huge, obese red-headed man. Neither one was his rabbit. The fat man looked up blankly as they came through the door. The man on the ground looked over at Cain, a pleading expression on his face.
“Help me. I need a doctor.”
“Put your hands up and don’t move!” Cain barked. The fat man instantly obeyed.
Cain sprinted forward, followed closely by the two soldiers. On the ground, right in front of the men, were a gun and a black fireplace poker. Cain scooped up the gun. A quick glance and he recognized it as a Glock pistol—it was his gun, the same one that the rabbit stole from him. A new surge of adrenaline kicked in. This was for real, they were at the right place. But was the rabbit still there?
While the other two covered him with their guns, Cain spun the fat man around and smashed him in the kidneys. The fat man howled with pain. “I didn’t do nothin’.”
“Shut up.” Cain pulled a pair of handcuffs out of his back pocket and twisted the big man’s arms as he slipped them on. He shoved the man’s shoulders and kicked the back of his knees, forcing him to the ground. “Stay there until I tell you to move.” He turned his attention to the other man.
Cain bent low
over the bleeding man and quickly patted him down for weapons. He was clean. Ortman and the blonde sergeant stepped in front and continued to move down the hallway to continue the search.
“Where are they?” Cain asked.
“I don’t know, man. I need a doctor. I’m bleeding to death.”
Cain quickly inspected the wound. There was a lot of blood, but the bullet had hit the thigh, it hadn’t pierced an artery, and the damage was relatively minor.
“You’ll live. Are you the one who called?”
“Yeah, but I need help.”
Cain bent down to the man’s eye level. He moved in close so his breath was in the man’s face as he stared him down. “Where are they? Are they still here?”
“I don’t know. But can you just call a doctor? Jelly couldn’t find the phone.”
“Jelly?” Cain glanced back at the fat man in handcuffs lying on the floor. “This fat piece of crap here? Is this Jelly?” He grabbed the chain between the handcuffs and jerked hard, pulling the fat man back up to his knees.
“I didn’t do nothing.”
Cain twisted the chains and propped him against the wall. It took all his strength to move the big man around.
“What did you see, fat boy? Where’s my rabbit?”
“Rabbit?” The fat man’s pasty face scrunched up in concentration.
“The Mexican, him and the girl. Where are they?”
Jelly looked dazed. “I don’t know. I didn’t do nothin’ and the guy jumped me. He hit me with somethin’. Otherwise, I could‘ve taken him. He knocked me out cold. And I couldn’t find the phone. Do we still get the reward?”
Cain heard a sound behind him. He turned to see Ortman making his way down the stairs and back into the hallway, “Um, Captain?”
“What?”
“Um, they’re not here. We’ve gone through the whole house and they’re not here.”
Living Proof Page 25
