The World's End Series Book One: Dymond's World (7 page)

Neither of them spoke until they were through the toll booth at the entrance to the Pennsylvania Turnpike.  Fallon took the sweeping left turn under the sign that said, "West, Pittsburgh."

Dymond was the first to break the silence. Her voice was sad. "Mister, just drop me off at one of the rest stops - there's one kind of in the middle of the mountains.  I'll hook up with a trucker from there."

Fallon felt alarm at her plan, quickly followed by surprise.  He was surprised that he wasn't feeling relief.  Here was his chance to let this girl get back to her life and for him to get back to his.  Still, the alarm was there and the relief wasn't.

"You can't just go up to some stranger in the middle of nowhere and ask for a ride," he said.

"I won't be just asking.  I'll pay for it.  I'm a whore, remember?"

Fallon didn't think he'd ever known a real, working whore.  Patti told him that she'd screwed the district supervisor to make her manager of their store, but he never really believed it.  Patti was all talk, but she wouldn't actually do such a thing.  At least he thought she wouldn't.

"But . . . it's dangerous.  You could hook up with some bad guy."

She had been staring out the side window, but now she turned to him.  Fallon wondered if she had bought eye makeup, they looked large on her thin face.  "You sound like you're worried.  Don't be.  Girls . . . like me, we know the signs - what to look for.  When I first saw you and you were beating up on Ax, I thought you were one of the bad ones.  That's why I was so watchful at your home.  It didn't take long for me to see you weren't one of those men that will hurt a girl, stiff her or even beat her.  No, I could tell you were okay."

"If you're so careful and are such a good judge of men, how'd you end up with Ax?"  Fallon saw himself kicking the fat bastard.  Momentarily, he wondered if he'd really been hurt - even died from a heart attack or something.  It was his day to be surprised - he realized he hoped Ax was dead.

She smiled at him using all her face.  She had perfect teeth and a wide mouth.  He hadn't realized it because she hadn't really smiled like this since he met her.  "That's a long story," she said. "Maybe I'll tell you some time if I ever see you again."

***

Traffic had been moving nicely, but brake lights appeared ahead of them.  Fallon slowed and then stopped in a long double line of cars that disappeared around a curve about a quarter mile ahead of them.

It took almost ten minutes to inch around the curve so they could see ahead.  The jam was caused by a sign that said, "Single Lane Ahead One Mile, Merge Right."  As soon as he saw the sign, Fallon checked his mirror and put on his signal to get in the right lane.  Dozens of other drivers did the same thing.  The result was the backup.

As cars succeeded in getting into the right lane, the left lane became empty.  A few drivers took advantage of the open lane to zoom by the cars that were inching along.  Fallon hated the selfish assholes that did that.  They would rocket to the head of the line and break in when they got there.

There was an eighteen wheeler a hundred yards or so in front of Fallon's Bimmer.  He must have had enough of the assholes too, because he moved his truck left so that part of it was still in the right lane, but he was blocking the left one.

A large black SUV flew by Fallon, but it had to brake when it reached the truck.  The SUV tried to slip around the left side of the truck, but the trucker moved farther left.  Fallon could see the tail lights of the SUV flash on and off as the ass signaled the trucker to let him by.  A large arm came of the truck cab and gave the SUV driver the finger.

By now, two other asses had been caught in the trap in the left lane.  One of them put on his signal to move right, but no one would let him in.  In front of them, car windows opened and middle fingers came out in force.  Fallon pushed the button to lower his window and he could hear a woman yelling "Fuck you!  Fuck you!  Fuck you!"

The driver of the SUV must have been distracted, because he bumped into the rear of the eighteen wheeler.  The two cars behind him didn't have room and they hit each other too.  It was just a fender bender, no big deal.

Except that the truck stopped and two people emerged from it carrying something that looked like sticks.  The people behind the truck got out and started fighting with each other.  Two women rolled on the ground, pulling each other’s hair.  The car in front of Fallon pulled left and stopped - its driver jumping out to join the fray almost before the car stopped.  Fallon pulled to the right and passed.

Once past the eighteen wheeler traffic picked up.  Fallon had been amazed to see a riot break out right in front of him in the middle of nowhere.

Dy turned around and continued to look as they moved away from the scene.  "People are sure in a bad mood," she said, shaking her head in wonder.

***

They were lucky to get by the big truck and continue westbound.  Fallon's rear view mirror showed only a car or two behind him.  Beyond them, the road was empty.  The ruckus back there must have stopped traffic altogether.

He set the cruise control at sixty five and watched as seven police vehicles sped by, lights flashing, in the east bound lanes.  Dy stared at them intently.

Fallon checked Humpty Dumpty so see how he was reacting to Fallon's good luck.  Again, he wasn't around.  The shelf up in heaven was empty.

***

Fallon was broke.  He walked towards the ATM machine at the turnpike rest stop.  These were generally nice facilities with gas pumps, clean restrooms and several fast food and coffee places inside.  They were popular stops because you didn't have to exit the turnpike and go through toll booths - they were built right beside the roadway.  They were owned by the state and therefore charged quite a bit more than normal for their hamburgers and lattes and fill-ups.  The traffic delay had caused them to reach Dy's suggested rest stop well after 1 p.m.  He'd had no breakfast, so he was hungry.

"I'll get us lunch, Mister.  You've done enough for me.  You just relax."  He started to call after her and tell her that he'd get the cash out of the machine, but half the time his ATM card wouldn't read.  He'd asked the bank for a new one a month ago, but none showed up at his PO Box.  He decided to just sit and wait and let her buy lunch.  She had more money than him.

It took almost ten minutes, but she finally returned with a tray containing two double cheeseburgers, two large fries and two large strawberry milkshakes.  Fallon knew that one of those twenties was certainly gone - the government made sure the turnpike users were overcharged at every possible opportunity.

By the time Fallon had taken two bites of his cheeseburger, she was half done with hers.  He looked at her as she woofed down her food - her collarbones were clearly visible.

He didn't plan on asking her the question - it just seemed to come out on its own.  "How did you become a whore?"

The look on her face was one of questioning, like she was deciding how, or even if, to answer him.  She swallowed the last of her cheeseburger and started on the fries.  She took one at a time between her thumb and index finger and put them in her mouth.  Fallon waited for her to speak.

"I think it was because the state took me away from my parents," she said.

"Oh, I can't blame the child welfare people.  My parents shouldn't have had a kid - they were into drugs and freedom and moving around.  I was with them until I was six and then, one night, a man and a woman from Child Protective Services came and got me.  I cried and cried.  I think my mother and father were probably relieved.  I never heard from them again.

"I went from one foster home to another.  Most of my 'parents' were nice.   They said I was special, real smart even. They wanted to help me; they set down rules, tried to have me in bed by ten, made sure I was up by seven to get ready for school.

"I don't remember that I ever learned much at school, but I did learn to cuss.  I'd scream at my foster parents that they should fuck themselves or that I didn't give a shit about their rules.  That made them try even harder to help me and so I started to run away when I was about twelve.

"Running away is a big problem with foster parents.  They are half relieved that you're gone, but their other half is worried sick about you.  I never understood what I put them through, but I do now."

Dy paused and took a long drag on the shake.  Her eyes stared into the distance, remembering.  Fallon thought he detected regret in her gaze.

"I'll never forget my fifteenth birthday.  The foster family I was living with planned an outing to Dave and Busters.  I remember loving that place and was looking forward to going.  My birthday was on a Saturday that year and I was allowed to sleep in.  I woke up before everyone else, though, and went online.  I went to a chat room and had a private message from a guy I'd been writing to.  I'd sent him a selfie of me with my boobs out and he told me how turned on he was.  He lived over two hundred miles away, but he wanted to come pick me up so we could party.  I should have known that it wasn't a good idea, but I was stupid back then."

Her face took on a pained expression as she relived that day.  She slurped her milkshake dry.

"Well, you can figure it didn't work out.  He picked me up and took me back to his place.  I was lucky to get away from him before anything really bad happened.  To me, he looked ancient - probably thirty or more.

"I made my way to the bus station, but the fare home was over thirty dollars and I only had seven with me.  I sat on the bench out front and was crying when Billy drove by and asked if I needed help.  I was hungry and scared and crying.  I remember thinking I had nothing to lose.  I got in his car.

"You know, Mister, I don't think I was ever scared in my whole life until that day.  First, I had to get away from that creep and then I was stranded and getting into cars with strangers.  I'd found I could make boys do what I wanted if I touched them and let them touch me, but all of a sudden, I wasn't in a world of boys.  I was shaking with fear as Billy drove me to his place.  I think that day was the day I grew up.  That morning when I woke up, I was a kid; but by the time I slept that night, I was an adult.

"But I was lucky - maybe because it was my birthday.  Everyone deserves some luck on their birthday, don't they?  Billy was just very nice.  He talked to me quietly and fed me and told me about his girls and how they all lived together and how they made money and kept each other safe.  He offered to give me bus fare or he said I could stick around and meet his girls.

"He told me that I should go back to my foster parents; that I should try to finish school and go to college and get a job.  He told me if I did, I'd probably fall in love and get married and have kids.

"I fell in love all right.  I fell in love with him.  I'd always hated my life, but now I had a chance to leave that all behind and start fresh.  It was so new and exciting.  I told him I'd stay.

"The rest is simple.  I met the others girls.  There were four others, all about my age, and they were all nice.  Billy charged $150 for a half hour and $300 for an hour with us.  He never tricked us out more than three times a day.  He had strict rules - no drugs for us, no screwing on our own, and no talking to anyone about what we did.  We lived in his house and he bought us nice clothes and took real good care of us."

Fallon was both horrified and fascinated with her story.  He broke in with a question, "How much of the money did he give you?"

Dymond smiled wistfully, "It doesn't work that way.  He got the money and we got expensive looking bags and designer heels.  We went out to dinner at nice places and took vacations together.  But Billy put twenty percent of the money into an account for us.  When we left, he said he'd give us that money.  Billy told us we could leave at any time, but I was with him over two years and no one did.  When he died, I had over $40,000 coming to me."

She went silent as a frown crossed her face.  She stared into space, reliving some memory.  Fallon had a sudden realization that she wanted to tell him about it, so he asked, "How did Billy die?"

Her eyes looked directly at his; he could see pain in them.  "It was the drugs.  Billy was hooked, but he was clean almost all the time.  He'd go a month or two or, once, even three without using, but the need was just too strong.  All the girls watched out for him, looking for signs that he was going to fall off the wagon.  Once we tied him up in his bedroom to keep him from going out until his cravings passed.

"About six months ago, he went out to meet a new john.  Most of our business was repeat customers, but we still needed new blood on occasion.  Billy found them on the Internet, but he always went to meet them first himself - he wanted to make sure they weren't going to do anything wrong or hurt us.  One time a guy hit one of the girls and Billy broke his leg in two places.

"This new john wasn't a danger, but we later found out he was a user.  He and Billy shot up and they both passed out.  When the john woke up, Billy was dead.  At least the john called 911; that made it possible for the cops to find him.  After he was arrested, he claimed that Billy sold him drugs; that Billy was the dealer.  Then the fucking cops took all our money.  They seized Billy's bank accounts, claiming that the money was proceeds from criminal activity.  None of us ever saw a cent and some fat cop is riding in a new tricked out SUV because of my hard work.  I hate cops."