Read The Many Online

Authors: Nathan Field

The Many (28 page)

BOOK: The Many
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2

 

After Karl hung up the phone, he paced the motel room, thinking back on the conversation with Damian Kerr. Talking to the twisted rapist fuck had been easier than he’d thought. He’d been worried about losing his temper, but as soon as he’d announced himself as Philip Henry, the name he’d assumed from his fake identity, he’d slipped straight into character. Obviously, he had acting skills he never knew about.

He’d need them again tomorrow night to get past Damian Kerr’s front door. But once he was inside…
oh boy.

Six phone calls was all it had taken to track him down. Karl knew the date of Dawn’s abduction, and he knew that a family member from New York had flown in especially. With the help of a private eye in Des Moines, he’d obtained the passenger records for Portland-New York flights that day. There were only two direct flights that arrived before 10pm, and Karl took a punt that Mr. Faceless wasn’t traveling cattle class. That left a short-list of just twenty-four passengers. Damian Kerr was the sixth name on the list.

And the first name on Karl’s hit list.

He scratched his beard, checking himself in the mirror. It made him look older, definitely. When he put on a suit and tie, he reckoned he could pass for twenty-eight, the age on his new driver’s license. He’d actually wanted to be older, thinking the family might not recruit so young, but the pockmarked teenage forger said he had to take what was available. So twenty-eight it had to be.

Karl swiped the room key from the dresser and shoved it in his pocket. He’d traveled halfway across the country already, but Connecticut was still more than a day’s drive away. He needed to get moving if he wanted to reach Damian Kerr’s house by tomorrow night.

He went over to the bags sitting on his bed. The large backpack was already zipped up, but he wanted to check the briefcase again. He flicked the latches and peered inside, ticking off the items like a grocery list.

Hand cuffs. Duct tape. Hunting knife. Camera. Gun.

Karl nodded, closing the lid. It was all there. Everything he needed.

He picked up his bags and walked out the door. The rain was coming down heavily, but Karl didn’t quicken his pace as he popped the trunk, dumped the bags inside and crossed the parking lot to the office. Getting caught in a rain shower didn’t bother him these days. Nothing bothered him, really. He’d found a wonderful new purpose in life. He was going to hunt down the old families one-by-one, and bring pain and suffering into their lives like they’d never imagined. Damian Kerr was just the first of many. Karl wouldn’t stop until he’d unmasked the entire fucking clan.

Dawn was standing under the porch when he came out of the office. Karl’s smile took a moment to arrive. He was still startled by her new image, even though he had to admit it suited her. The shaved hair made her cheekbones pop and her green eyes seem huge. The edgy makeover also suited her new name – Jade Laboux. Karl thought she looked like a stylish European punk, if that was a type.   

She was sipping from a giant Slurpee, about the only thing she could hold down these days. A grocery bag swung from her spare hand.

“You get everything?” Karl said.

She nodded. “So, was it him? The hedge fund guy?”

“Yeah. We have to be in Connecticut tomorrow night.”

Dawn hoisted her chin, her eyes shifting to the motel parking lot. Karl checked over his shoulder, seeing a middle-aged couple loading baggage into a car trunk. The man looked up, feeling eyes upon him, and Karl quickly glanced away.

The man was harmless, but Karl understood Dawn’s paranoia. He saw them everywhere, too. Lurking in side alleys. Reflected in store windows. Or behind the wheel in his rear-view mirror. Masked men haunted his waking hours and terrorized his dreams.

But of course, it was just his mind playing tricks on him. If the old families had tracked them down, they wouldn’t be alive to be paranoid. For now, as Philip Henry and Jade Laboux, they were safe.

They went to their car, and Karl waited patiently while Dawn opened her door, stared at the passenger seat for a few seconds, and then slowly climbed in. He wasn’t sure how much of her odd behavior was due to her condition and how much was attributable to Leach. There were similarities with Stacey, definitely. The slow movements and delayed responses. The faraway look in her eyes. But unlike his sister, there were also flashes of humor, and playfulness, and warmth. The flashes were few and far between, but they gave Karl hope she wasn’t permanently damaged.

Driving out of the motel and onto the highway, Karl started fiddling with the radio tuner, searching for a decent station. He stopped when he heard the opening bars to
Figure It Out
by Royal Blood. Resisting the urge to crank up the volume, he tapped his lightly hand on the wheel, singing the lyrics in his head.

“Good song,” Dawn said.

“Yeah?” Karl said, pleasantly surprised. “Not too heavy for you?”

“I can do heavy.”

“Well, all right then,” Karl said, reaching for the volume knob.

Thrashing drums and bluesy guitar filled the cabin, and Karl started nodding to the beat. When he glanced over at Dawn, she was doing the same. He turned back to the road with a grin on his face. For a while, he was reminded of happier times. He’d always liked driving with friends and listening to the radio on a wet winter’s day. Something about headlights in the daytime and the lush sound of rain gave the music an extra dose of atmosphere. Like something epic was about to happen.

As the song built to a furious climax, Karl turned to share the moment with Dawn. But she was staring out the passenger window, no longer hearing the music. He snapped the radio off with a deflated sigh. Karl knew better than to disturb Dawn when she was immersed in her own world. She flinched at unexpected voices or any kind of touch. The best thing to do was leave her alone. 

He shifted into the fast lane and stepped on the gas, whooshing past a businessman in a family sedan, a suburban housewife in a large SUV, and two guys in a dirty contractor’s truck. They looked about his age, maybe a few years older. They were smiling, laughing, and sipping coffee. Karl watched their faces get smaller through the rain-blurred windows, feeling a twinge of melancholy. He kept checking his rear-view mirror until the truck’s headlights shrank into the distance. Soon, there were no lights behind them, and none in front. Theirs was the only car in a sea of gray.

“Where are we?” Dawn said, giving Karl a small start.

“What? Shit, I don’t know. The middle of nowhere, obviously.”

Karl could feel her staring at him. He sighed at his own tetchiness. “Sorry, you gave me a fright. We’re thirty minutes from the motel. So about halfway to Iowa City.”

“Oh.” She leaned forward, squinting into the windscreen. “It’s so foggy out there.”

“Yeah. I don’t know if there’s much to see, anyway. Just a bunch of potato farms.”

She settled back in her seat. “You’re thinking of Idaho.”

“Really? I thought Iowa had potatoes, too.”

“I’m sure it does. But in terms of signature crops, Iowa has corn, and Idaho has potatoes.”

Karl thought about this. “Well, whatever vegetables are out there, we’re not seeing them.”

Dawn sniggered, and Karl felt warm tingles all over his skin. He hadn’t heard her laugh since Portland.

He stole a series of glances at her. She was reading an album review on her phone, a band Karl had never heard of. She seemed to be taking the words in, not just staring at the screen.

“Doesn’t reading make you sick?” he said, hoping to extend the conversation.

“No. Food makes me sick. And that cheap deodorant you wear…”

“–I got rid of it.”

“I know, I’m just saying. Food and smells.”

“Food and smells,” Karl repeated, encouraged by her punchiness. Then casually, he said, “Hey, I’ve been meaning to mention. When we reach Connecticut, you can just stay in the motel room. You don’t have to face him if you’re not up to it.”

Karl heard her take a deep breath. Then nothing. As the silence dragged on, Karl thought she’d retreated back into her shell.
Why the fuck had he rushed her into such a heavy subject?
But when he looked at her, her head was bowed, and there was a kind of fond sadness in her eyes.

“No, I’m good,” she said, drumming her fingers on her belly. “Let’s go see Daddy.”

BOOK: The Many
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ads

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