a few seconds of silence. “In fact, he walks up to people after a meeting and hands them a business card that says ‘Thomas McKinney, Asshole; and don’t even get me started on the business services.”
“Free asshole estimates,” Britney continues with heavy laughter. “Free asshole consultation and my favorite, free asshole cleaning.”
“That’s hilarious, baby,” Tuck says with a pleased smirk. “Rory, why are you asking us about work, anyway? Aren’t we here to get away from work? Didn’t we hire you to get us away from our jobs?”
“I’m a diamond buyer,” Thomas replies with an awkward smile. “My job is to fly to places like Antwerp and Tel Aviv to bid on the highest quality diamonds in the market.” As quickly as he started talking, Thomas goes quiet and continues to amuse himself by watching the scenery pass by from behind the driver seat.
“All right, let’s get some music in here,” Britney states quickly, “Rory’s trying to put us all asleep by talkin’ about work during our vacation.”
She takes out an iPod and places it in the center console dock. After a few seconds, some popular rhythm and blues tunes are filling the car with music that goes extremely well with the outside scenery of the Redwood Highway.
Rory decides to take Tuck’s advice and relax on this nice vacation trip. He eases back into the comfortable leather seat watching the scenery transform through the glass of the rear passenger window. Over the last few months he had forgotten the amazing majesty of the Redwood National Forest; even the drive is a spectacular experience. The familiar sites of ponds that were landmarks even from his childhood bring back warm memories of spending time with his parents, laughing and enjoying whatever adventure the day would bring. He recalls one incident on this highway where they broke down with a flat tire and his father treated it like a fantastic part of the whole experience. This helped Rory to learn at an early age to make the most of anything, no matter how difficult.
Through the window, the small patches of trees and tall grass along the highway gradually turn into lush green forest on both sides of the Hummer. Rory closes his eyes several times wanting to sleep due to the beautiful rhythms inside the vehicle mixed with the historic tapestry of California flying by in the quiet and comfortable back seat. He watches with childish excitement as the highway juts out to the ocean and shows off the beautiful, endless waves of the Pacific, moving in peacefully toward the beaches. After a short while he sees the familiar Big Lagoon as they continue up the scenic route to the forest. The highway continues to wrap around back and forth as they reach: Dry Lagoon, Stone Lagoon, and finally Freshwater Lagoon. Rory sits up straight with childlike excitement as they are nearing the park, but as he looks around at everyone else inside the Hummer, they appear preoccupied.
“We’re almost to the park now,” Rory shouts over the music in an excited voice.
When he doesn’t see the normal excited reaction that people usually have on trips like this, he pulls out his phone and does a search on Google for ‘Speed Deeds Manhattan,’ and after waiting a moment for the Internet service to finally work, the first ten results don’t show any courier businesses. Rory shrugs this off and looks at the second page, which also doesn’t show any courier services with that name. As his suspicions grow, he starts looking closer at his companions, wanting to ask some important questions. Britney turns down the music and glances backwards to find out who was talking.
“I’m really excited about this,” Thomas says in a warm tone for the first time during the trip. His eyes are bright and his wide face is covered in childlike joy. “When I was growing up, all my grandfather did was talk about the Redwood National Forest. He would say, you need to see what is possible from the power of nature.”
“That’s very true,” Rory says with a pleasant smile as he puts his phone away, relaxing more with Thomas’ newfound excitement. “My parents used to bring me up here all the time, it was the place where we could all just shed the BS from our daily lives and go back to just being a natural family.”
Thomas nods and smiles in agreement as Tuck pulls the Hummer to a stop in the parking lot at the trailhead.
“Let’s go have some fun.” Tuck tells everyone with anticipation as he puts the vehicle in park.
Over the next half hour, Rory takes the group on a tour of the majestic Redwood National Forest. As they progress, he explains how the canopy blocks out such a great deal of sunlight that it keeps much of the underbrush from growing. They move steadily along the river, following the trailhead, and then finally break off onto their own path. Rory chooses a less traveled route, but with smooth enough ground for Britney to ride her pink mountain bike.
As Rory is describing how old many of the monstrous trees are, and how it is virtually a miracle that they have survived for so long without being burned down, he notices that his clients are not taking any photos. They have hiked over three miles from the Hummer, and left the trail after the first mile; not taking one photo the entire time. Rory looks at the sun as it starts to dip closer to the horizon being mindful of how long it will take to get back to their vehicle.
“Now this is what I really wanted to show you,” Rory says with excitement as they enter the old-growth part of the Redwood Forest. “Some of these trees are 2,000 years old. They typically live between 500 and 700 years. Many of the trees in this area of the park are between three-hundred and fifty to three-hundred and seventy-five feet tall.”
Rory stops both walking and speaking as he notices that the two men in the group are not really paying attention. He looks off in the distance and can’t see Britney’s pink mountain bike anywhere.
“What’s going on here, guys?” Rory demands as he feels a sense that he is the only person enjoying the scenery. “This is what you came here to see, isn’t it?”
“Oh, I’m sorry…” Tuck retorts in a sarcastic tone. “Am I not being happy enough to your standards? I thought we were paying you, which means we should be the ones to have expectations, right?”
“We’re just looking for a place to sit down and have a picnic,” Thomas says slowly with his palms facing toward the ground. “Tuck is just worried because he hasn’t seen Britney in a while.”
“Okay, cool,” Rory responds with a relaxed pose, “I’m just going to call my girlfriend and chat with her for a second while you decide where to have your picnic.”
Rory pulls out his phone and begins to dial his short code for Kelly.
“Put the fuckin’ phone down!” Tuck orders in a threatening voice.
Rory looks up from his cell phone to see Tuck pointing a silver Berretta pistol at him. He feels suddenly naked as his suspicions about the group are confirmed, and for the first time in his life, doesn’t quite know what to do.
“Don’t even think about running, little man of the forest,” Tuck warns, pointing the pistol at Rory’s right knee, “I can still get plenty of that magic blood from you; even with a bullet in your leg.”
“Should we just do it here?” Thomas asks, pulling his backpack off and holding it close to the ground.
“Yeah, yeah, lets do it here,” Tuck agrees, pointing with his free hand at a secluded area in a circle of monstrous trees. “Rory, throw your phone as hard as you can at that tree,” he instructs, pointing to his left with the pistol.
Following his captor’s instructions, he throws his phone, watching it break apart into several pieces as it collides with
the giant tree. “What the hell is going on?” Rory demands as he glances around a bit looking for a good escape route.
“Shut up!” Tuck commands with a militant voice. “I want your back up against that tree in fifteen seconds or I’m going shoot you in the kneecap.”
Rory turns halfway around, glancing nervously at potential escape paths behind him, but there are none.
“Hold it!” Tuck orders again, “face me as you back up. Now you have twelve seconds. One! Two! Three! Four! Five! Six!” Tuck marches toward Rory with the pistol pointed at his knees moving faster as he counts. After he reaches six, he pulls back the hammer on the pistol so that he can use the hair trigger.
Rory moves backward as fast as his legs will carry him, stumbling a bit at first, but moving faster as he decides to drop his backpack. Tuck is right near his face, gripping the pistol with powerful, athletic hands and moving forward with determination. As he hears Tuck count to seven he quickens his pace, knowing that however this turns out, it won’t be any easier with a bullet in his knee. At the count of eleven, he reaches the tree, slamming his head hard against its thick bark. Tuck continues moving forward, pressing the barrel of the pistol into his ribs. Rory feels stinging pain and pressure as the powerful force of Tuck’s arms compresses his chest with the front of the gun. As soon as the pistol won’t move forward anymore, Tuck turns his left forearm into Rory’s throat causing him to choke.
Rory is now feeling pain and discomfort all over his upper body. The hard, rough bark from the tree is digging into his back,
The Golden Goose of Los Angeles Extended Edition Page 18
