A Tale from the Hills (36 page)

There was no possible way that the authorities could be everywhere at the same time. Atlanta was a big city with the largest population of any city that William had ever lived in before. It was easy to get lost in the shuffle of big city life. He realized that he was greatly outnumbered by the government men who were very anxious to find him, but at the same time he knew that he was a tiny needle in a great big haystack.

There were prospects for adventures all over the city. William saw a prospect at the corner market when he went in to buy a pack of cigarettes, and at the bus stop, and the cafe’, and the movie house, and in each and every one of the city parks. Hell, they were everywhere. He saw at least one prospect for a big adventure every time that he left his room. Morning or noon or night, early or late, pretty weather or foul, they were all over the place. The authorities were living in a fantasy world if they thought that it would be easy to catch his ass.

The gun that had come to be almost as notorious as he had been, had actually been in hibernation since he shot the old man in Charleston. He knew for a fact that the police had linked the gun to shootings in North Carolina and South Carolina, and he did not want them to be able to trace him to Atlanta for as long as possible. He decided thatmaybe just before he left the fair city, that he would use the gun as a way of mocking the authorities one more time. He might even write them a note and send it to the newspaper, or better yet, attach it to the body of his latest adventure. He knew that he was bound to come up with a good way to tease the poor dumb bastards. Besides, he needed to buy bullets for the gun anyway. He had not bought any since he first got the gun from Eunice, and his supply was dangerously low.

William’s reasoning for not using the gun was flawed as well as illogical. Even though he still carried it with him all of the time, and he would not have hesitated to use it if the need arose, he was lulled into a false sense of security if he thought that he had not already been traced to Atlanta. The newspapers had not linked the murders in Atlanta to the murders in other cities for a good reason. They were under a gag order not to do so. The FBI did not want the killer to have any information that would make him suspicious or overly cautious. They wanted him to think that he was invisible to their official eyes. They knew that eventually he would make a mistake that would get himself caught or killed. They wanted to give him just enough rope so that he would hang himself, and even though they would never admit to that fact, they were prepared to sacrifice the lives of a few more civilians to catch the killer.

For all of the planning and undercover activity and extra security that was being implemented all over the city, the killer was having a free rein to do practically as he pleased. The Mayor’s office under pressure from the Georgia Legislature, sent repeated letters of protest to Washington. Since the FBI’s plan was not working, procedures needed to be changed. Too many lives had already been lost and now it seemed like a number of them could have been lost needlessly. The Bureau reluctantly agreed and a new man was put in charge of the bizarre case.

The first act of business that the new man initiated was nothing short of brilliant. It sent the killer on the run withhardly enough time to pack his belongings. Although he was never caught, the killings stopped and the city wasback to normal within weeks.

**********

It all began on a Thursday. William had been having a particularly hard day at the mill and he was looking forward to the weekend coming up. But when the second shift employees began arriving, he noticed that a few of them were giving him odd looks and glances. He had never liked that particular type of attention and he was beginning to feel uncomfortable and agitated. Finally one of the men walked over to him and gave him the news that brought his entire world to a crashing halt.

“Hey man,” the guy said. “The FBI is looking for someone who looks an awful lot like you.”

“What do you mean?” William asked.

“There are posters and signs everywhere with a drawing of someone who looks exactly like you, and goes by the name of William. The man is supposed to be involved in some murders or something.”

“Are you shitting me?” William asked innocently.

“Seriously man you probably need to call them or talk to them soon.”

“Hey thanks man. I’ll do just that as soon as I leave here.” he lied.

Talking to the FBI bastards was the very last thing that he was going to do.

***********

William quickly prepared to leave the city as secretively as a thief in the night. He felt almost as low as he had ever felt in his twenty or so years upon the earth. He did not know where he was going or even how he was going to get there. He hated that he did not have a plan of escape. He felt like joining the men that he met in his short time in Atlanta, at the bottom of the Chattahoochie river. But he was not ready to die quite yet. He had more living to do. He had places to go and people to see, and many more things to do before he took his last dying breath and met theold Devil face to face. That utterly ridiculous thought cheered him up in his hour of deep concern.

The few possessions that he took the time to pack before he left the rooming house, fit easily into a paper sack. Necessities for grooming himself and a change of clothing would have to suffice until he reached his new destination. He knew that he had to get out of the city before a policeman or a government man recognized his face, because he would never be able to talk himself out of the situation. He knew that he was a good liar, but it would take a fucking genius to get out of that one. He did not have the time or the energy to have to deal with anyone like that. He would just as soon shoot it out.

He left the rooming house when he was sure that it was sufficiently dark outside. He stayed away from street lights and turned his back to approaching headlights. The most direct route from the section of the city where he resided was Highway 41, toward Chattanooga. At first he thought about hopping a train, but he was sure that every train passing through Atlanta would be crawling with government men. Hitchhiking would have to be the way to leave.

He stood in the shadows of highway underpasses and bushes until he saw the headlights of only one car at a time. That way he could make sure that a police car was not mingled in with the other traffic. But he was not even getting a slow down response until he came up with a brilliant idea.

The old saying, “Desperate times call for desperate measures”, suddenly came into his head.

He took off his shirt, crammed it into the paper sack, and resumed a deliberately provocative stance at the side of the road. The third car that approached him came to a screeching halt just a few yards after it passed him. He ran to the car as he breathed a huge sigh of relief. To his complete surprise the old gentleman who was about to give him a ride looked as harmless as a puppy dog. The cross hanging from the rearview mirror and the Bible lying in theback seat, made William think that the man was a minister. The man smiled and winked as William opened the door and took a seat.

“Thanks for stopping sir.” William said humbly.

“You are more than welcome son. Where are you going on this dark night?”

“Chattanooga sir.”

“Then you are in luck because that is just where I am going too.” the old guy smiled again.

William noticed that the old guy sure did smile a lot.

“What is your name son?”

“Willis.” William lied.

He had almost said his real name.

“It’s nice to meet you Willis. My name is Vern, short for Vernon. As you probably already guessed, I am a minister in a little town just north of Chattanooga.”

“It is nice to meet you Vern.” William replied.

They rode for several miles before another word was spoken. Just after William yawned, Vern spoke.

“You look tired Willis. Why don’t you relax and take anap.”

“Would you mind? It has been a very long day.”

“Absolutely not son, go ahead. Get some rest.”

William closed his weary eyes and before the car had even gone a few miles, he was sound asleep.

At first he thought that he was having a bad dream. He could feel himself being moved around. He finally woke up enough to realize where he was and who he was with. Another touch of the strange hand on his leg felt like a spark from a bolt of lightning. He immediately snapped to attention and he was not in a good mood.

“What the Hell do you think that you are doing old man?” He almost screamed.

“I really didn’t think that you would mind. After all, you suggested as much when you were hitchhiking.”

“What do you mean I suggested as much?”

“In the way that you were dressed, and the way that you were standing there beside of the road. It hinted thatyou were willing to make a sort of exchange in order to get a ride.”

“What a disgusting thought from a disgusting old man.” William cried.

“I’m sorry son. I really didn’t mean to agitate you.”

It was much too late for that. William reached inside of his boot and took the pistol from it’s hiding place.

“I should kill you right now, right here on the spot in the middle of this highway. God, I hate old men, and I hate preachers even more!” he shouted.

“Please forgive me son.” the man pleaded.

“Ask your God to forgive you when you see him, because I will never forgive you pervert!” William shouted.

The old preacher began to sob in low whimpers.

“Don’t worry old fart, I’m not going to kill you just yet. I need a ride too much. Now keep your eyes on the road and don’t say a goddamned word to me, or I will blow your brains all over your windshield.”

The old man continued driving and did not dare speak or even turn his head in the direction of his crazed passenger. They drove through the Georgia night in complete silence. The preacher side of the old man thought once about humming a gospel song, in hopes of putting his passenger into a forgiving mood. He very quickly changed his mind. Instead he prayed for his own soul in silence. He took the time to ask God to forgive him for his many transgressions against his loving wife of many years. She had no idea that he had a propensity to pick up handsome young men in hopes of somehow rekindling a small portion of his own youth. He always knew that his weakness of the flesh was someday going to cost him a huge price, maybe even his life. He thought that he was going to lose his life before that very night was over. He had resolved himself to that fact. He was so deep in thought and resolve that he had not paid attention to the gas hand on his car. When he finally realized that he was going to have to stop for gasoline soon, he was afraid to speak. Just outside of the last possible place to stop for many miles, he finally had not other choice.

“I am going to have to stop for gasoline.” he said in a low voice.

“How much do you have left?”

“Just enough for another mile or two.”

“Then stop old fucker, but you had better not try anything or you’ll be sorry.”

“You have my word. I won’t try anything.”

“Your word don’t mean shit to me old man. Just do what you have to do.”

As they approached the truck stop William warned the old man that if he tried anything stupid, that he would be very sorry. Vern again assured him that he would not. When they reached the gas pumps, William grabbed the old man’s arm and squeezed it hard enough to leave the print of his fingers in the old man’s skin.

“Leave the key in the ignition. Tell them inside that I will pump the gasoline. Get me a Coca-Cola and something to eat. If you try anything, you will be a dead old pervert, do you understand?”

“Yes. What do you want to eat?”

“I don’t care, anything. Snacks and a soda pop. Now get going.”

“All right.” the old preacher said in a low voice.

William pumped the gasoline and took his seat in the car. He waited and waited but the old man did not return to the car. Finally William got back out of the car and walked toward the front door of the truck stop. When he looked inside he did not see a soul. The place looked totally deserted. Something quickly told him that the old pervert had been running his mouth. He opened the front door just far enough to grab a few snacks off of the shelf, and some warm bottles of soda pop from a carton on the floor. He bolted to the car, turned the ignition, and spun gravels everywhere as he speeded off into the Georgia night. As he topped the hill he saw flashing lights way off in the distance behind him. The old fart must have called the police and then ran away.

The only thing that saved Vern’s miserable life on thatdark Thursday night was the fact that the car was low on gasoline. But he was a changed man from that night on until he died at a ripe old age. He always looked upon that night as the night that he came face to face with the Devil himself.

***********

Chapter Eleven
 

William drove down Highway 41 toward Chattanooga at exactly the posted speed limit, not a mile per hour over or under. He did not want to bring any attention to himself in a car that was stolen. He knew that he would have to ditch the car sooner or later, and more than likely sooner than he wanted to. He needed to get as far away from his troubles as possible, but he did not think that Chattanooga was nearly far enough. He needed a complete change of scenery. New York again popped into his mind as it always did in times like that. But how could he ever get there without a car or access to a train. He knew that he would get caught if he tried to take the preacher’s car that far away.

Almost as if fate stepped in to lend him a helping hand, he passed a billboard that seemed to offer a glimmer of hope and encouragement. It was a sign from a long lost relative of his, sort of. The sign read YOUR UNCLE SAM WANTS YOU. William’s eyes lit up at the prospect of getting away from everything that was haunting him and better yet, everyone who was looking for him. That night alone in a stolen car, with nothing left to lose except his life and liberty, he made up his mind that he would do his Uncle Sam a great big favor.