Blackout (11 page)

Whoever I am, this comes naturally to me.

Josh cast aside the rope and started to scale the wall. He used the strength in his shoulders, trying to avoid using his wounded leg as anythingrnore than a dead weight. He stuck his fingers into the mortar, pulled, then rested his legs, balanced himself, and started again. In three swift movements, his fingers were gripping the top of the wall. He hauled himself upwards, lying flat on its one-foot-wide top, looking down into the courtyard below. A seven-foot drop. So long as I don't land on the wounded leg, or on my neck, I'll be fine.

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But suddenly Josh could hear the sounds of a siren wailing: his eardrums were starting to rattle as the screeching noise seeped into his brain.

His gaze darted forward. A searchlight had flicked on at the back of the courtyard, bathing the building in a harsh, brilliant light. Josh could feel it dazzling his eyes. A shot rang out. Then another. Josh tried to look into the courtyard, but the light was too harsh.

Run, man, he told himself. Run like every dog from hell was on your trail.

Using his arms, Josh started to lower himself down from the wall. He pressed his feet and knees together, the same position he'd adopt for a parachute drop. His feet deflected the blow, then he rolled to the left to lessen the impact.

He turned to look back in the direction he'd come from, back up through the boulders, two, maybe three hundred yards, to where Kate had parked the Avalanche.

If she's still there, maybe I can make it.

Another volley of fire rang out from inside the station. Josh could see dust flicking down from the wall where the bullets were raking the concrete, sending flakes of it puffing into the air.

Christ, he thought to himself. They're not looking to make an arrest. They're shooting to kill.

He started to move forwards, dodging between the boulders that lined the route. His wounded leg felt dead, the pressure it had taken from the fall numbing all feeling in it. He paused, sheltering behind ^a boulder, glancing up towards the road. He could see the lights from the Texaco gas station. Kate was there, parked in a lay-by along the road, about fifty yards from the forecourt.

Another shot broke through the silence of the night air. Josh could hear it ricocheting off one of the rocks. Snipers must already be in position, he guessed. Ready and willing to shoot anything that moved.

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It was fifty yards up a moderate ridge to the road. There were three boulders between here and there, Josh counted: enough to give him some cover if he could move quickly enough.

Another shot. Another ricochet from the boulder. Christ, thought Josh. I haven't much time. He started running. A man running for his life can handle a lot of pain, he reflected as he ducked behind the second boulder. He looked up. Thirty yards.

With luck, I can make it. Trouble is, I've used up most of my luck this week.

Josh pushed himself forwards with all the strength he could muster. The ground felt dusty beneath his feet, and he was taking care not to lose his grip. One stumble would certainly cost him his life. Behind him, he could see more searchlights starting to flood the night sky with their harsh artificial light.

One more boulder.

Josh ducked behind it, looking up to the road. He could hear the starter ignition turning in the Avalanche.

Then something else. Another engine. The sound of rotor blades. And the smell of avgas wafting down from the sky: a thick, nauseous smell that always made Josh's stomach churn.

Josh looked up, his heart already filled with dread.

A helicopter.

A searchlight was beaming out from its front turret, scouring the empty landscape.

'Come out with youi^ hands up,' boomed a voice from a loudspeaker mounted on the chopper.

The beam of light swung out across the ridge, narrowly missing Josh as he ducked behind the boulder. Move, he told himself. Bloody move now, before that chopper completes its circuit.

He threw himself forwards again, ignoring the pain raging through him, burning up the few yards that separated him

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from the pick-up truck like a hare unleashed from its trap. The roar of the helicopter just forty yards from the ground was filling the sky with a deafening noise, splitting his eardrums. Its racket was only interrupted by the sound of gunfire behind him.

Five yards, he told himself.

A bullet kicked up a tiny cloud of dust to his left. He swerved, then lunged forward, grabbing the door of the Avalanche and hauling himself inside.

'What the hell have you started?' said Kate, looking up at him, a flash of anger in her eyes. 'World War Three?'

'Just bloody drive,' snapped Josh.

The motor was already running. It revved into life with a roar, and Kate steered the truck out on the highway.

'Not the road,' snapped Josh. 'And switch off the lights.'

'Oh, right,' said Kate. 'And how the hell am I meant to drive?'

Josh leaned across, flicking the light switch off with his hand. The lights died and the Avalanche was suddenly surrounded by darkness. He grabbed the steering wheel and yanked it hard to the right, pulling the truck off the tarmac and into the scrubland. From scouting the area earlier that day, Josh knew that the land stretching away from Boisdale was flat: there were a dozen miles until you hit a range of mountains that rose up sharply from the wilderness. It was pitted with craters and boulders. You would drive through it only with extreme caution.

Not at night, and not without lights on, thought Josh. Unless it was your only chance of survival.

The Avalanche started to bounce across the scrubland, the suspension rolling with each blow to the undercarriage. Pain shot through Josh as each thump lashed into him with the force of a leather whip. Kate was gripping the steering wheel, hanging onto it as if it were a rope from which she was dangling from a precipice.

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He looked across at her. 'Out on the road, the chopper can pick us off. We might as well be waving a big flag saying "Shoot me". But a single truck in the darkness, in scrubland, with no lights on. That has a chance.'

'Yeah, but they'll find a wrecked truck in the morning,' said Kate. 'With a couple of corpses in it.'

'That's one possibility,' said Josh roughly. 'But we stay on the road, we're corpses for sure. They're not looking to take us in for questioning. They want us dead.'

The Avalanche swerved sideways as its front left tyre crashed over a boulder, then sank into a small crater. The truck shook as if it was about to break up, then found its grip again and jerked forwards.

Josh looked behind him.The light of the moon was starting to dim as a cloud drifted across it, and suddenly the plain was plunged into total darkness. Josh could hear the chopper: the noise of its blades cutting through the air filled the sky. Behind them the chopper's searchlight was sending out a narrow beam of light, flashing onto the ground, seeking its target. Looking forwards, he could only see a wall of blackness, into which they were driving at an ungodly speed.

Prayer time.

'You're doing great,' said Josh, glancing across at Kate. 'Just keep the wheel straight, and try to ride with all the knocks. We'll be okay'

They drove for what seemed like an hour but which, when Josh checked his watch later, turned out to be just twenty minutes. The chopper's lights could only illuminate a narrow stretch of land at a time: by keeping an eye on that they could tell they were moving further and further away from it. Josh reckoned that they were about a mile away. They both remained silent, Kate clutching onto the steering wheel, Josh listening to the sky, monitoring the sound of the chopper.

'Here,' said Josh eventually. 'Stop here.'

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�Ski

In twenty minutes they had covered several miles of open scrubland. The sight and sounds of the chopper were no more. They had seen and heard nothing for at least five minutes. If the police had no fix on which direction they had been driving in, then they could be anywhere within a thirty mile radius of the road. They had vanished. For now.

They'll come looking for us in the morning, thought Josh. We'll be okay until then.

He stepped down out of the Avalanche. The temperature had dropped from the scorching heat of the day to a mild ten degrees centigrade at night, and there was a slight breeze, making it feel still cooler. The moon was still shaded by a cloud. It was impossible to see more than a few yards ahead, and he wasn't going to risk switching on the vehicle's headlamps. Darkness I can handle, he told himself. So long as no one is shooting at me.

'What the fuck happened back there?' asked Kate angrily. 'You fucking tricked me. You were trying to break into the police* station to find your file, weren't you? You must be fucking nuts.'

She was standing in front of him. Sweat soaked her blouse: through the damp material Josh could see the outline of her breasts. 'I triggered an alarm when I went over the wall,' he said. 'That place was wired up like the Pentagon. It's not just some sheriff's office in Hicksville. The place must be crawling with Feds.' He paused. 'What do they have in Boisdale to protect it with that kind of firepower?'

'Nothing,' said Kate. 'It's just a factory town. Fifteen thousand people. Used to be twenty-five thousand, but times haven't been so good in the carpet business.'

Josh took a swig of water from the bottle on the passenger seat of the Avalanche. 'Something,' he said firmly. 'There's something there, and I'm betting it's to do with those boys.'

'They're just teenagers,' said Kate. 'At least that's what it said in the news. Hoodlums.'

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Josh passed the water bottle across to Kate. 'Bollocks,' he said. 'Unless I've lost my mind as well as my memory, there's something going on in this town. And I reckon those two boys were at the centre of it.'

'What?' said Kate. 'What do you think it is?'

Josh shook his head. 'I don't know.'

'Think,' Kate ordered him.

'First we rest,' said Josh.

He looked around the area where the Avalanche had come to a halt. There was a ridge in the ground, leading down to what looked in the murky light like the dried out remains of a river bed. Across from that were some large boulders where Josh reckoned they might find some shelter in the grooves in the rock carved out by water. 'Over there,' he said. 'It's just after two in the morning now. Sun rises about six. We sleep for two hours, then start walking. Once the sun is up, they're going to be able to follow the tracks of that truck into the scrub. We don't want to be anywhere near it when they find it.'

Josh looked at- Kate. 'You should go home. It's too dangerous for you out here.'

'I'm staying,' she said.

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SEVEN

Sunday, June 1th. Morning.

In the distance, Josh could see the police cordon blocking off the main road. Two patrol cars were slewed across the highway, stopping and checking everyone entering the town. Me, thought Josh. It's me they are looking for.

A dangerous time to start scouting around. But I don't have any other choice.

'Where do we start?' asked Kate.

'Let's pick up the trail at the motel,' said Josh. 'Place like this, any strangers in town are going to be passing through the motel.'

Josh looked down from the hill. They were a mile outside the town, to the east, on one of the hillsides that rose up towards the canyons in the far distance. Josh had woken at four a.m., using the alarm on his wristwatch, surprised to find Kate curled into his chest and sleeping soundly. The rocks were a reddish sandstone, not a hard granite: you could sleep on them in moderate comfort. His wounds ached, but no worse than usual. He woke K^te with a gentle shake, then started walking.The chopper would find the Avalanche within a couple of hours once the sun had risen. They had to be at least four or five miles away by then: that meant two hours of solid walking.

Josh's first decision had been to hide the Avalanche. As soon as dawn broke, there would be police helicopters out, scouring the scrubland. Leave it in the open and the truck

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would lead them straight back to Kate. They had to hide it somewhere that would be invisible from the air; it could take weeks to track it on foot.

He'd scoured the area in the dark. There was a dried-out creek, but he rejected that because it didn't provide enough cover. Then he found a small stand of trees, but that wasn't going to work either, he decided. The Avalanche was a big truck, and a helicopter was going to spot it underneath any tree if it was flying low enough. Eventually he found a group of tall boulders arranged in a haphazard circle, which formed a natural shelter. He drove the Avalanche inside. It was a tight squeeze, and he tore a big gash in the side panel of the machine as he tried to ram it into the limited space.

'I'll pay you for the damage,' he joked to Kate. 'If the insurance doesn't cover it.'

After hiding the Avalanche, they started the long walk to town. Josh stepped carefully across the rough ground, telling Kate, a couple of yards ahead of him, to do the same. It was hard walking in the darkness, weaving a path through the boulders, brambles, and cactus. Josh dragged a stick behind him to brush away any traces of the trail. That was slow work. Even so, they made good progress, following an arc that Josh had calculated would take them back towards the town.

After two miles they had found a creek, with some water in a pool surrounded by thick evergreens.There was nobody around and Josh stripped down to his boxer shorts, washing himself in the cool water. Kate slipped into the pool in her pale blue cotton bra and .pants, then dried herself with her T-shirt before slipping it back on. In the half-light Josh could see that her body was slim and lithe as he watched her splash the water through her hair and face: her figure was toned and tanned, the physique of an athlete rather than a model, but supple and sexy all the same.

She might be a doctor, thought Josh, but she isn't a city girl. She knows how to survive in the wild.

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'How do you want to get there?' asked Kate, pointing to the town.

'On foot,' replied Josh with a rough grin. 'But if you see a cab, hail it.'

Kate smiled back and started walking. A track led down the hillside away from the patrol cars, then the first section of paved road led up to a truck depot, closed this morning, with just a pair of chrome monsters sitting on its forecourt. Ahead, a mile distant, Josh could see the Motel 6 sign rising thirty feet into the air. They kept walking, pacing their way slowly through the first of the suburban streets that led to the centre of town. It was still only eight in the morning, and although the sun was starting to rise through the sky the temperature was still only around fifteen degrees, and a gentle breeze was blowing.

Kate suggested that they should stop at the diner, on the corner of Coral Street and Roosevelt Avenue, and grab some coffee. 'I'll wait outside,' said Josh. 'You go in and get them.'

When Kate returned, she handed him an extra-large cup of foamy, milky coffee, and two honey waffles, wrapped in white tissue paper. Josh hunched down against the fence of the parking lot and started eating. The waffles tasted thick and doughy, and Josh didn't care for the taste. Still, he told himself, it doesn't matter: I need all the calories I can get.

'Did you see the man in the blue sweatshirt?' said Josh, glancing towards the window of the diner.

Kate nodded.

'What do you make of him?' ^

Kate shrugged. 'Bald guy reading the sports section of the newspaper,' she replied. T didn't make anything of him.'

'He's a Fed.'

Kate took a long sip of her coffee, looking thoughtful. 'An FBI agent? Is that what you mean?'

Josh nodded. 'There's something about the way he's sitting, just minding his own business. It looks artificial,

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practised -- like he learned it on a training course.' He turned towards Kate. 'He's surveillance.'

'For you?'

Josh shook his head. 'I don't know. But I bet this town is crawling with agents - it has to be if they've got a helicopter stationed here. They're looking for somebody.'

And if it's not me, then who the hell is it?

Josh slung the rest of his coffee down his throat, finished off the waffles and started walking. The limp from his wounded leg was starting to heal: he could just about conceal the fact that he'd taken a bullet in the past few days. He hadn't shaved since he was wounded and the hair on his face had started to grow into a thick black beard. A trim, and it would look like he had worn it for years. That, plus civilian clothes, should make him different enough from any pictures of him that might be on file.

Just so long as I don't draw any attention to myself.

They know who I am, thought Josh as he walked on steadily. But do they know what I look like?

It was half a mile to the Motel 6, a distance covered in ten minutes at a steady pace. The building was at the end of the long commercial strip: a couple of car dealerships, a hairdresser, a hardware store, and then the motel. As he glanced up at it, Josh wondered if he had been there before. There was no flash of recognition but if he'd been staying in the town he must have visited the motel.

And even if I don't refognise it, somebody might recognise me.

Josh nodded towards the entrance. 'We go in together.'

'They might think we want a room.' She smiled. 'For an hour or so.'

Josh stepped inside. The clerk was watching some baseball on the TV. A boy of nineteen or twenty, Josh judged, he had floppy back hair, and two prominent spots on his

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left cheek. 'You looking for a room?' he said, looking up at Josh.

Josh scanned the boy's face for some sign that he recognised him, but there was not a flicker. The reception was flat-pack standard, the same yellow and black furniture found in every Motel 6 lobby in the country. It looked out onto the main road, and behind the desk was a set of photos of the main local tourist attractions: the Grand Canyon, Death Valley, Phoenix, then Las Vegas. Those were all a hundred miles away or more, Josh noted. The only guests that this Motel had were travelling salesmen.

'We're looking for some information,' said Josh.

The boy glanced first at Josh, then at Kate. His name was Darren, Josh noted from the name tag pinned to his regulation yellow shirt. There was a look of suspicion in his eyes, but also a spark of curiosity. Life was slow on the "desk of this Motel 6, Josh figured. Darren was desperate for anything that might liven the morning up.

'What kind of information?' he said.

'Information about guests, Darren,' continued Josh.

Darren turned down the sound on the television.

'We're freelance journalists,' continued Josh. 'We're researching a programme for the BBC. We're interested in the Lippard story. We're just wondering if there are any other reporters in town covering the case who we might be able to hook up with?'

He talked slowly, keeping his tone relaxed. Only liars talk quickly, Josh reminded himself. .�

Darren's expression was that of a man who knew that he probably shouldn't help but couldn't fight the temptation. 'The BBC?' he said. 'What's your name?'

Josh hesitated. 'Ben,' he said. 'Ben Webster, and this is Kate. We're researchers.'

'Yeah, there have been some reporters checking in,' said Darren.

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'Who?' said Josh.

Darren looked down at his desk book. 'A TV crew from Phoenix were here for a couple of night. News Five. They parked their van right there in the lot. But they left this morning.'

'Who else?'

Darren looked down at his book again. 'That was it. I guess the Lippard killing isn't such a big deal outside this town. There's a woman from the local paper who's been writing stories for the Phoenix Republic and the Las Vegas Sun. She has an office just a few blocks down this strip. She might be able to help you out.'

'What's her name?' asked Kate.

'Elaine,' replied Darren. 'Elaine Johnston. Paper comes out Monday, so she might even be in the office this morning.'

'Can I look at the registration book?' asked Josh.

If I stayed here, I must have given a name, he reasoned to himself. If I see it, then maybe I'll recognise it.

Darren looked uneasy. 'Company rules,' he said. 'I'm not allowed.'

'Just a quick look,' said Josh, attempting a smile.

'No way, man,' snapped Darren.

Josh reached down for the roll of dollar bills in his pocket. He took them out. 'Maybe I could buy you a drink.'

'Like I said, company policy,' said Darren quickly.

Kate glanced up at him. 'We'd be really grateful,' she said.

'This is the only job I got,' said Darren angrily. 'If you don't drop it, I'm calling the cops.'

'Okay, okay,' said Josh quickly. He took Kate by the arm. Come on, we're going.'

Outside, the sun was higher in the sky and there was more traffic on the road. Josh hesitated as he left the Motel 6, glancing back towards the two-storey row of rooms stretching back a hundred yards from the lobby. I have been here before, he realised.

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/ might even have stayed at this motel before I was shot.

'Some more coffee,' Josh said to Kate. He was thirsty again: the same dry, burning thirst in his throat that he'd had ever since he'd been shot. 'Then we go see if this Elaine woman works on Sunday mornings.'

Another man sitting alone and sipping a coffee. This guy had a baseball cap pulled down tight onto his forehead. Josh looked at him once, through the window of the restaurant, then averted his gaze. More surveillance, he judged. He couldn't be sure how he knew. Maybe I've had that training myself, he mused. Maybe that's why I can recognise them.

Kate came out of the restaurant with two cups of coffee and two turkey-breast sandwiches, and walked across to where Josh was waiting. Ten yards away, a couple were getting their kids out of their car, and a group of bikers had just pulled up in the parking lot of the diner. There were six of them: big men, with long hair, muscles that bulged out of their T-shirts, and fat guts that hung out of their jeans. Half past ten. Boisdale was starting to wake up.

'Let's go,' said Kate. 'We can eat while we walk. If we're going to be sure of catching this reporter we need to get to her office now.'

Josh started to walk down the street, taking bites from his sandwich as he did so.

'Josh,' cried a woman's voice from the parking lot.

He ignored her and carried on walking. Who the hell is Josh? he wondered. ^

'Josh,' she shouted again.

Is that me she's calling?

Quiet, woman, he thought. Too much commotion and you're going to alert that spotter sitting at the back of the diner.

'Hell, Josh, aren't you even going to say hello to me?'

Suddenly the voice's owner was tugging at the sleeve of

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his shirt. Up ahead, Josh could see Kate spinning around to see what was happening.