Authors: Dan Lawton
I taught her well.
Tears are pooling in her eyes, and she struggles to steady the gun. I think about attacking her, knocking the gun from her hand, then using it on her, but I don’t. I doubt she even knows how to use the damn thing.
“I should have just killed you when I had the chance,” I say, trying to break her.
She chuckles to herself before cocking the gun. The ping of the bullet sliding into the chamber makes my skin crawl.
“I told you, I knew you were stupid,” she says. She presses the barrel of the gun into my forehead. Her hands are trembling.
“You won’t do it. You don’t have the stomach for it.” I say, staring at her, almost daring her.
Tears fill up her eyes again. A single one slides down her cheek and I think I can see my reflection in it as it moves down her face. She clenches her hands tightly around the handle of the gun and closes her eyes. Her face scrunches up as if to protect herself from a looming explosion.
My heart is racing, but I’m calling her bluff. Sweat beads on the back of my neck. She’s thinking irrationally and won’t be able to go through with it. I know this girl, and I know she doesn’t have the willpower to do something like this. If there is one thing that I can say for sure about her, it’s that she won’t do it. She won’t pull the trigger.
I close my eyes and think of my father. I see him on the night he died, and I see the bodies of Snake, Bruno, and the other young Zved. I see my brother, wounded and helpless, lying close to death in the middle of George’s driveway, reaching up for me. I see Jack, and I wonder if he’s found George yet. I see myself on the boat, alone, and I see the clear water beneath it. The visions are all so vivid, and I don’t want them to go away.
My eyes snap open and I look into Alicia’s eyes. I look up and see the barrel of my gun still firmly pressed into my forehead. I shift my eyes back to Alicia, and she’s looking back at me with hatred in her eyes. She has outsmarted me and I didn’t even see it coming. I thought I had this whole thing under control, but oh how wrong I was. I was so close I could taste it.
As one final stand of toughness, refusing to give in to a woman, I don’t allow myself to blink as I watch her pull the trigger.
Click.
It’s been eight days.
When I left the old police station in Topeka it was completely dark outside. My first stop was the ATM outside of the gas station across the street, where I withdrew all of the cash I had to my name. After the deduction for the foreign ATM fee, the machine spit out just over four grand, most of which in twenty dollar bills.
With cash in hand, I made my way in the direction of the bus station, which I figured was probably a good mile or two down the strip. There was a group of intoxicated young people, early twenties likely, leaving a bar as I approached the station. I saw an opportunity, so I stopped the group and offered one of the guys twenty bucks for the shirt off his back. After a brief negotiation, we made it forty and went our separate ways. Two of the girls he was with made some cat calls as he undressed, so the chances of them being involved in some sort of threesome later that evening were high.
He made my night, and I made his. It’s amazing what good people are willing to do for one another. I must have forgotten there are still good people out there during my whole ordeal.
Inside the bus station, newly attired, I browsed the schedule on the big board for the routes leaving the soonest. I purchased a one-way ticket to Chicago from the unpleasant black woman behind the glass counter. She spoke in monotone, clearly loving her job, but I was able to gather from her that the bus would have an hour layover in Des Moines, Iowa before proceeding to Chicago.
I slept the entire four hour voyage up I-35 to Iowa and we arrived in the early morning hours. I sat in the station while the bus refueled and added some additional passengers for the trip to Chicago. After seven hours, heavy city traffic, and nearly five hundred dollars later, I arrived in Chicago.
In Chicago, I grabbed some much needed nourishment from a cozy restaurant across from the bus station. It was late morning and the next bus wasn’t leaving until noon, so I had some time to kill. I acquired a new outfit and bought a
Chicago Tribune
from one of the booths on the street. I scanned through the national news to see if I was being hunted yet. I wasn’t, or at least not yet publically. I arrived back at the bus station ten minutes prior to boarding and purchased myself another one-way ticket, this one to Detroit.
Five hours and three hundred more miles later, I arrived at my final destination. I didn’t have an exact town in mind, but I knew I wanted to spend some time fishing in the Great Lakes before I got caught and sent to prison for the rest of my life. I found a map of Michigan from the rack at a local convenience store in Detroit and found a place.
Luna Pier is a small town, less than two thousand people, and is less than fifty miles south of Detroit. It’s quaint, quiet, and right on Lake Erie; just what I was looking for. All in all, I spent about a thousand dollars just getting to Michigan, or twenty-five percent of my new net worth. This included the investment of the fishing supplies that I obtained from the lakefront store by the pier.
I had a few choices upon my arrival. First, I could have saved my money and lived on the streets to try to stay free for as long as possible. Second, I could have spent reasonably with the intention of sticking around for a decent length of time. Or third, I could have chosen what I did. I had made up my mind early on that this was only temporary and that I was not cut out for life on the run from the law.
I have no family, no friends, and I was preparing to be by myself in a new place. The entire situation was foreign to me, and I had never imagined I would be caught up in a situation like this. Before everything happened, I was always a law-abiding citizen who followed the rules and never questioned authority. I never went more than five miles per hour over the speed limit and I paid my taxes in full and on time, usually early. I have no experience running from the law and I really had no idea what I was doing, so it was only a matter of time before they found me.
I found a private beach resort with a vacancy near the pier. With the rate of two hundred fifty bucks a night, I knew it wouldn’t be long before I was out of money. Between my meals, lodging expenses, and fishing bait, I estimated I would be out of money in about seven or eight days. I ate expensive meals each night and spent my days fishing in the pier. I would catch fish, plenty of them, but I always threw them back. I couldn’t eat them after looking into their eyes.
Despite living life the way I had always dreamed of, I kept finding myself looking over my shoulder. Early on, I decided that when the money went dry I would turn myself into the police and tell them everything. I would tell them my guilt’s, Billy’s story, Alicia’s involvement, and everything that led to the deaths of Frank and the two guys from the Zved’s, plus Snake. Maybe they would offer me leniency, or maybe they wouldn’t. Whatever was coming to me I deserved, so I tried to enjoy the time I had left as a free man.
---
I wake up on
day eight to the reflection of the morning sun shining against the lake and filling my cabin. I inhale the warmth sneaking in from underneath the cracked window and enjoy the smells of the sea. I reach into the nightstand that rests beside the king size bed and pull the clock toward me: 10:13 A.M. I toss the clock back on the nightstand and open the drawer. I pull out my remaining cash and count it on the bed: Twenty-three dollars and change. The ten dollar all you can eat buffet on Main Street is open until eleven, which I can make if I hurry. It’ll be my eighth day in a row doing so.
After eating, I leave the rest of the money on the table for the waitress at the restaurant, which covers the entire bill plus a hefty tip. I’ve decided to take one last stroll to the pier before heading over to the local police station to turn myself in. I stop back at the cabin one last time to gather my fishing supplies and bring them to the pier. I’ll leave them somewhere on the beach for someone else to enjoy when I’m done.
I’ve never felt as peaceful in my life as I do right now. I’m sitting on the end of the dock with my feet dangling over the water. The water is clear and I can see the families of minnows swaying through the water beneath me. Blue skies are above and there is not a cloud in the area. I can see miles of blue in the distance.
I’ve come to accept my fate. In exchange for my testimony in court, I think I would like to ask for permanent segregation in prison. I’m better off and more comfortable by myself anyway, so I think that’d be for the best. I hope that’s a request they’ll be willing to grant me.
I take in the view one final time before pushing myself to my feet. I turn around and make my way down the long pier and back toward civilization. I keep my head facing down for most of the walk, but I do look up as I approach the sand. At the end of the dock stands a figure, a woman, seemingly staring right at me. Ironic timing to be caught, I think, as I was on my way to turn myself in anyway. As I approach the woman, her face comes clearly into view. I’m forced to stop in my tracks.
“Hi, George,” the woman says, then smiles at me. My jaw locks and my mouth dries out. I’m unable to speak.
It’s Alicia.
I close my mouth and force myself to swallow, which produces enough saliva for me to muster out a response, “What are you doing here?”
“I’m here to find you.”
“How did you know where I’d be?”
“Well, I remember you said this is what you’ve always wanted, to go fishing in the Great Lakes. I figured there is no way you’d try to get on a plane, so a bus is the only other option. There is basically one route here via the bus line, so I went with a hunch.”
I’m surprised she remembers me saying that. I barely remember me saying that. “Where’s Billy?”
“He’s gone.”
“Gone? What do you mean gone?”
“Gone. Dead.”
“What happened?”
“I didn’t like the way he treated you, or the way he treated me. It’s not fair what he did to you.”
“But what about everything he said? What about you and him and marriage and Cuba?”
“It’s true, it’s all true. That was the plan. He was going to help me and my family, and he needed someone’s help. Someone smart. Someone like you.”
“What about you?”
“It was a setup, all of it, and I’m so very sorry for that. I didn’t know it would be so hard. The baby was his idea too, he knew you’d go for it. It was the only way he could be certain.” Tears are beginning to form in her eyes. “The connection we had was real and genuine. That may have been the only thing that was real, but it was. I knew it was real from the first night. I know you felt it too.” The tears have fallen from her eyes and are now streaming down her face. “I tried to get out of it after that night, but he wouldn’t let me. Please forgive me. I was just doing what I thought I had to do to help my family. I never meant to hurt you. I hope you can understand.”
I pause, letting it all sink in. “Why did you let it go on for so long if that’s how you feel?”
“I didn’t know what to do. I was waiting for the right time. Once Frank died, I saw my chance so I took it. It was my chance to go one on one with him without Frank interfering. I had to get my hands on his gun.”
“When?”
“When you guys came back. I was able to grab it when he was distracted.”
This brings back the memory of the three of us in the office. It must have been when I thought she was grabbing his backside. She was actually grabbing his gun. I can’t help but smile at her and her cleverness. She wipes the tears from her face and drops something. She runs to me and we embrace. The warmth from her skin sinks deep into my pores and I think I may not ever let her go. After a moment, we do release our embrace and she takes a couple steps back. She looks at me.
“Does that mean you forgive me?” she asks.
I gaze at her before answering, and it brings me back to the moment on the night we first met. We were laying in the bed, after we got to know one another intimately, and she had said something to me that now resonates in my mind. She told me she just wanted to be free, and I had no idea what that meant at the time. Now, standing here before her, I realize that she was trying to tell me something. She was stuck in Billy’s personal path of destruction, and she wanted out. She was trying to find a way out, and she needed my help. She just didn’t know how to ask for it. I smile at this, and can’t believe in the subtlety in which she tried to give me hints all along. She’s the real genius here, and I bet she knew her way out of this the whole time. I think she’s the real mastermind behind the entire operation.
That only leaves two questions left unanswered though: What was her end game and what was she trying to accomplish?
“I forgive you,” I say. “Can you promise me one thing though?”
“Anything.”
“Can we start over?”
She smiles. “That sounds like a great idea.” After another moment of just gazing into one another’s eyes, she continues, “Where were you going anyway?”
The question catches me off guard, and I start to laugh. “Funny you should ask. I was going to turn myself in. I was going to tell them everything. Your timing couldn’t have been better.”
She chuckles nervously. “Well, I hope you’ve changed your mind.”
“I have now.”
Alicia drops to her knees and unzips something, the item that she dropped from before. “No, I mean I really hope you’ve changed your mind.” She steps aside and I look down at the dock.
My pupils dilate and my mouth drops open as I stare at the bag full of cash. I move my eyes to hers and try to speak, but I’ve gone dry again.
There it is, that’s the end game. She was going to bring the money back to her family in Cuba, and Billy’s plan is now going to become her plan. She used his wisdom in criminality to help formulate the plan, and now she’s going to use it against him.
I guess I know where we’re going next.
She beams at my reaction, and I think she knows I’ve finally figured it all out. “I told you I had a plan.”