72 Hours (A Thriller) (15 page)

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Authors: William Casey Moreton

BOOK: 72 Hours (A Thriller)
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“Where are we going?” she asked him.

“To a place I know where we can hide.”

“How far?”

“Several more hours.”

“Will we be safe there?”

“I believe so.”

“Where is it?”

“In the desert.”

Lindsay folded one leg and tucked it beneath her, squirming in the seat.
 
It felt nice to sit up in a car like a normal human being for a change.

“Will anyone be able to find us there?” she asked.

“Almost impossible.
 
But if they do, they won’t like what they find.”

Lindsay listened to the singsong hum of the tires moving over the road.
 
Twenty-four hours earlier her biggest headache was carpool and the drama of being divorced.
 
Now she was running for her life.
 
She glanced at Archer and studied him in her peripheral vision.
 
She couldn’t see his blue eyes behind the Ray-Bans but had glimpsed them earlier in the morning at the motorcycle shop as he drank his coffee and spoke to the man he called Zero.
 

The A/C chilled her, and she hugged her arms around herself.

“I can turn that down,” Archer said, never taking his eyes of the road.
 
“But I’d suggest you soak it up while you can.
 
There won’t be much cool air where we’re headed.”
 

“It feels fine.”

“Are you hungry?” he asked.

She nodded.

He gestured at a duffel bag behind her seat.
 

“Zero packed some energy bars for us,” he said.
 
“He keeps them at the shop.
 
Some bottled water in there too.
 
You’re gonna need the water if you eat one of those things.
 
It’s like eating dirt.
 
Lots of good protein, but you’ve got to just choke it down.
 
Help yourself.”

“Thanks.
 
Want one?”

He shook his head, no.

Lindsay tugged the duffel around by its Nylon strap and pulled it up between the bucket seats.
 
She fished out a chocolate bar packaged in a foil wrapper and a warm bottle of Aquafina.
 
There were guns in the bag also, along with several boxes of bullets.
 
She made no comment.
 
She simply zipped the bag closed and shoved it back behind the seat.

She twisted the cap off the water and took a long swallow.

“I can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done,” she said.

“Don’t thank me.”

“You saved us.”

“My job is to keep you alive until Monday.
 
Don’t thank me for anything until then.
 
Getting off the side of that hill was only the first step in a long, dangerous process.”

She was quiet a moment.

“Last night you mentioned Special Agent Kline.
 
He hired you?”

Archer nodded.

She said, “Special Agent Kline is a good man.
 
I’ve known him for a few years.
 
Ever since my sister and niece disappeared.
 
If he personally selected you to protect me and my family, that tells me you are very good at what you do.”

Archer did not respond.
 
His attention was on his surroundings, the road, the passing desert, and the same few dozen cars he had watched with strategic caution the entire trip.

“Are you FBI?” she asked.
 
“You don’t look FBI.”

He glanced at her, her reflection framed in the mirrored lenses of the Ray-Bans.

“What do I look like?”

She tucked blond hair behind one ear.
 
“I’m still trying to figure that out,” she replied.

Cars passed going the opposite direction.
 
A couple on a Honda Goldwing had stopped on the side of the highway, turning a map at different angles, pointing and arguing.
 
Heat shimmered up from the asphalt.

“Kline was the one who caught Dunbar.
 
That’s why I have so much faith in him.
 
Dunbar almost got away with the murders.
 
He tried to cross into Mexico, but Special Agent Kline arrested him.”

“I remember.”

“I hate Dunbar.
 
I want him to die.”

“He will.
 
At twelve-oh-one Monday morning.”

She sighed.
 
“He is the reason my sister and niece are dead.
 
He is also the reason my marriage fell apart, because of the stress of it all.”

There was movement in the rear, one of the children waking, twisting about beneath the blankets.
 
Lindsay turned in her seat to look, then twisted back around.

“It’s not terribly comfortable back there.”

Archer changed lanes, speeding up to pass a tanker truck hauling natural gas.
 

Lindsay glanced out her window at the mostly barren landscape swishing past in a blur.

Half an hour passed.
 
Lindsay was lost in her thoughts, staring out at the monotony of the highway.
 
Then she heard Wyatt’s voice.

“Mom,” he said.

She turned in her seat.

“Hey, sweetie.
 
How’re you doing back there?
 
Get some sleep?”

The boy nodded, squinting in the stark sunlight.
 
“Need to pee,” he said.

“Can you hold it?”

“Really gotta go, Mom.”

Lindsay turned to face Archer.
 
“What do you think?” she asked him.
 
“Can we take a bathroom break?”

Archer glanced at Wyatt in the rearview mirror and frowned.
 
It wasn’t as simple as pulling over to the side of the road and letting the kid take a leak in the weeds.
 
He considered having Lindsay pass an empty Aquafina water bottle over the seat to him and have him urinate in it.
 
Efficient but potentially messy.
 

“Okay,” he said.
 
“Give me a few minutes to find a spot.”

Wyatt was grunting, holding a hand to his crotch, making pained faces.

“Please hurry,” he pleaded.
 
“It hurts.”

Ramey sat up.
 
“I’m starving.”

“Have a candy bar,” Lindsay told her.
 
She pitched one of Zero’s energy bars at her head.

Ramey took one ravenous bite.
 
“Gross.”
 

Lindsay passed her an opened bottle of Aquafina.

Ramey did her best to wash the taste out of her mouth, then she dropped the remainder of the energy bar back over the seat, rejecting it.
 
“Bury that somewhere,” she said.
 
“Blaaaah.
 
Nasty.”

Archer scanned the roadside, hoping for a turnoff.
 
Maybe a dirt road they could detour down for a mile or so.
 
Maybe an abandoned building or other structure to park behind for a couple of minutes.
 
He figured by the time they found a reasonably safe spot to pull over Ramey might have to go too.
 
And probably Lindsay.
 
So they were looking at a good five minutes of exposure.
 
That was a lot of time to be sitting idle.

Archer watched the horizon.
 
They drove on for another seven or eight minutes before a truck stop materialized amid the shimmer of heat rising in the distance.
 
Like a mirage sticking up from the desert floor.
 
He exited the highway and pulled in.
 
Rows of big rigs were parked in the sun.
 
The fuel pump islands squatted in the shade and shelter of a sprawling metal portico.
 

The Hummer eased up beneath the portico and stopped alongside a gas pump.
 
Archer glanced at the fuel gauge and decided it might be a good idea to top off the tank.

The kids had climbed over the back seat and were now seated directly behind Archer and Lindsay.

Archer assessed the activity among the pumps and the flow of foot traffic drifting in and out of the truck stop entrance.
 
He was evaluating how best to handle the next ten minutes.

He checked the Beretta and tucked it in his pants.
 
He opened the zipper on the duffel bag and pulled out a blue Dodgers cap.
 
He turned in his seat.

He said, “Okay, show of hands.
 
Who needs to use the john?”

Three hands went up in the air.

“Here’s the plan.
 
Do exactly as I say and don’t waste time in there.
 
You’ll go one at a time.
 
Lindsay, you’re up first.
 
Put on this cap and keep your eyes down.
 
Remember, it’s your face on the news.
 
Find the toilet, do your business, and get back out here, pronto.
 
Don’t look around, don’t buy anything.
 
Don’t talk to anyone.
 
Get in and get out.
 
Then Wyatt, then Ramey.
 
I want this thing back on the road in ten minutes.
 
Got it?”

They nodded.

Lindsay pulled the cap down low to her brow.
 
She turned to Ramey.

“How do I look?”

Ramey snickered.
 
“Cute.”

Lindsay opened the door.
 
The desert sun poured in.
 
They watched her disappear inside the building.
 
Archer stared out at the world from behind the Ray-Bans as he pumped gas.
 
He would have rather stayed on the road.
 
He watched traffic passing on the highway.

Lindsay was back in less than three minutes.
 
She climbed into the Hummer and let out a deep breath.
 
She cued Wyatt to go next.
 
She gave him precise directions how to find the restroom so he wouldn’t have to waste time wandering and looking.

They didn’t have to wait long for him.
 
In and out in two minutes.
 
All business.
 
He jogged toward the Hummer, his shadow merging into the shade beneath the portico.
 
He came around on Archer’s side to climb back in.

Lindsay told her daughter, “No makeup or freshening up in there.
 
Just pee and hurry back.”

“I heard him, Mom.
 
Gawd.”

Lindsay stared after her daughter, unconsciously holding her breath.
 
“Two down, one to go,” she sighed to herself.

Wyatt found a bottle of water and started chugging.

“Don’t fill back up, mister,” Lindsay scolded, frowning at him.
 
“That’s the reason we had to stop in the first place.”

“It’s just a sip,” he said, swallowing.

“Next bathroom break is a long way off.”

He just shrugged.

Ramey exited the restroom and hurried back outside.
 
She noticed someone walking quickly away from the rear of the Hummer but didn’t think anything of it.
 
The person disappeared between the rows of big trucks.
 
Ramey paused, standing in the heat.
 
She shielded her eyes from the glare overhead.
 
She was already starting to sweat.

She heard footsteps behind her.

“Let’s go,” Archer said.

Ramey nodded.
 
She had already forgotten what she’d seen.
 

Archer got them back on the highway.
 
He removed the Beretta from his pants and rested it on the seat between his thighs.
 
The rest stop had been quick and uneventful.
 
But it had also been a major error in judgment.

CHAPTER 43

Soji walked quickly between the rows of trucks, taking long, hurried strides through a shadow made by the trailer rigs blocking the sun.
 
He was wearing a very light windbreaker jacket with the collar flipped up.
 
He was baking in the heat and his heart was pounding.

They had not spotted him.
 

He had waited for the man driving the Hummer to step away from the vehicle.
 
All he had needed was twenty seconds.
 
Just long enough to plant the tracking device on the metal of the undercarriage.
 

Soji was sweating heavily by the time he returned to the Prius.
 
He turned up the A/C.
 
Then he opened his laptop and plugged the GPS receiver into a USB port.
 
The GPS application booted up.
 
A few seconds later the icon representing the position of the Hummer blinked into view onscreen.
 
Soji smiled, sweat dripping from his nose.

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