Charges (35 page)

28

Vincenzo tracked north and west on the back country roads, sticking to them a bit longer than he had been instructed so as to avoid the town of Claysville. He didn’t want to interact with anyone, not after what he’d gone through, and the safest way to keep from getting into another gunfight was to stay away from people entirely.

After an hour, he pulled off on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere between two overgrown fields. He looked out over the gently rolling knolls and grassy fields where wild flowers swayed in the light breeze. The gas gauge showed the tank was less than half full. He would have to get some more gasoline soon, preferably before he made it back to US 40. That might be a tall order. He hadn’t seen many vehicles since passing through the town of Taylorville, so it might have to wait until he found an area that was more heavily populated.

Gabby was asleep, lying on her side on the backseat despite the seatbelt around her waist. Daniel was still awake and playing with his hanger, and he showed no sign of flagging. He glanced up at Vincenzo before refocusing his attention on the plastic implement. Vincenzo held out a bottle of water.

Daniel reached out and took it. He couldn’t get it open, and he looked back at Vincenzo with his curiously vacant eyes. “Help me,” he said.

Vincenzo smiled then opened the bottle for him.

The boy drank half of the water then held out the bottle. “All done,” he said.

Vincenzo smiled again and took the bottle. The boy went back to his hanger, and Vincenzo returned to studying the atlas.

He was skittish of going through any towns or cities, but at the same time, he didn’t want to waste a lot of time on detours. He decided to stick to the north of US 40 then dogleg south past Claysville. Hopefully, he would be able to take on gas before then, but if not, there would certainly be opportunities on the main road.

Now, about the kids.
The father had said Charity Point, Missouri, and the name Felix. He flipped through the atlas until he found Missouri then searched the index for a town named Charity Point. He frowned. There was no such town. His planned route did cut right through the Show Me State, though, so there was still some opportunity to unravel that riddle. He figured they could probably be there in three days, maybe less. It all depended on what lay in wait for them between the backwaters of Pennsylvania and the towns and burgs of Missouri.

The backpack he’d taken off the man was still sitting in the passenger-side foot well. He opened it. He found some camping supplies, spare clothes—all worn and not exactly clean—several boxes of Kraft macaroni and cheese, a couple of bottles of water, Kool-Aid mix, plastic bowls, a half-empty plastic container of baby wipes with five or six blue packets of refills, and several odd-looking articles of clothing. They were bright orange and had a polyester shell; inside the shell was soft white cloth with some sort of moisture wicking element. They had button snaps on the outside, and he pulled one out of the bundle and examined it closely. After a moment, he realized they were diapers. Also inside the backpack was a re-sealable plastic bag. He surmised it contained soiled underclothes, and he wasn’t about to open it to verify.

“Party, please,” Daniel said.

“You want a party? Well, I think you deserve one.”

“Party now, please.”

“Sh. Don’t wake up your sister.” Vincenzo opened the outer pockets of the backpack. He found the man’s wallet and flipped it open. The Pennsylvania driver’s license showed the name Michael Tolson and an address in Mount Lebanon, Pennsylvania. In the license photo, the man looked hale and hearty, his eyes bright and intelligent and his dark hair neatly combed.

“Party, please,” Daniel repeated.

“We’ll have a party for you in a bit, little guy.”

Other than credit cards, seventy dollars in cash, and some family photos—he took note of the fair-haired woman holding the kids in some of the pictures—there wasn’t anything related to Missouri, or Felix for that matter. He returned the wallet to the backpack.

He suddenly got a whiff of something foul.

Oh, no.
He turned back and saw that Daniel was no longer interested in the hanger. The boy’s face was red with effort as he emptied his bowels into his pants.

Cursing under his breath, Vincenzo shut off the Blazer and grabbed the baby wipes and a diaper. Daniel looked unhappy, and his body was tense when Vincenzo pulled him out of the vehicle. There was definitely a load in his shorts.
I don’t have time for this!

He carried Daniel to the front of the truck and put the wipes and diaper on the hood. Gingerly, he removed the boy’s shorts.

“Party,” Daniel said unhappily.

“Does party mean potty?” Vincenzo asked.

“Pawty,” Daniel said.

Yep, he meant potty.
Vincenzo removed the diaper and tried to fling the smelly contents into the grass at the shoulder of the road. Some of it was embedded into the fabric because Daniel had been sitting while shitting. Vincenzo tossed the disgusting cloth aside and concentrated on wiping down Daniel’s rear end. Daniel bent forward, placing his hands on the Blazer’s slightly dented bumper. He didn’t say anything while Vincenzo wiped him down and muttered curses. It was a mess, and he used more baby wipes than he would have liked. When the kid was clean enough, Vincenzo pulled on the fresh diaper and, with fingers that weren’t exactly nimble enough for the job, managed to button it up. He inspected Daniel’s shorts for any wet spots from leakage, found none, and slipped them back on. After that, he returned the boy to the backseat, strapped him in, and handed him his hanger.

He tried to wipe out the diaper as well as he could, but it would need to be washed. He pulled the plastic bag out of the dead man’s backpack and opened it. Sure enough, the two other diapers in there were mighty ripe. Vincenzo pushed the new one inside, then sealed the bag and returned it to the backpack.

After a liberal application of hand sanitizer, he climbed in behind the Blazer’s steering wheel. It was time to get going.

###

It was midafternoon by the time they made it to US 40. Easing out onto the thoroughfare from Cunningham Road, he saw no vehicles or pedestrians, so he turned right, heading westward. The gas tank showed a quarter of a tank. Running out of gas would be a major problem, especially with two little kids in tow. He glanced into the rear view mirror and saw that both of them were sound asleep. After all the trauma they’d been through, he couldn’t blame them. He was feeling mighty fatigued himself.

When US 40 drew close to Interstate 70, Vincenzo stopped the Blazer. A wide field separated the two thoroughfares, and while US 40 was devoid of any dead traffic, the same could not be said for the interstate. There were cars and trucks interspersed along the highway, many with their doors open. They’d been looted or used as shelter during the nights. He prepared for the switchover by putting the Blazer into four-wheel drive. He drove forward for a few feet, making sure the hubs were locked, then turned into the field. The ground was dry and relatively smooth, so the four-wheel drive was probably overkill, but he wasn’t going to take any chances.

“Where are we going?” Gabby asked.

“We need gasoline, so I’m going to get some from the cars on the highway,” he told her. “I need you and Daniel to stay in the truck, and don’t touch anything. Okay?”

“I need to go to the bathroom,” Gabby said. “And I’m hungry.”

“Party, please,” Daniel added.

“Okay, we’ll go for a quick pee, then I want you guys to wait for me in the truck. After I get enough gas, we’ll pull back onto the road and have something to eat. Okay?”

“But I want to eat now,” Gabby whined.

Vincenzo controlled the surge of irritation that coursed through him.
Take it easy. She’s just a kid. And she just watched her father get killed a few hours ago.
“I need you to wait just a little longer, sweetie,” he said, trying to keep his voice light. “Let’s go potty first, then we’ll do what we have to do, all right?”

“All right,” she said, but she still wore a pouty expression.

“Party, please,” Daniel repeated.

“Hang in there, big guy.”

Vincenzo stopped the truck about twenty feet from the overgrown brush that separated the interstate from the field. After grabbing a roll of toilet paper, he led the children to a nearby copse of trees. With no prompting, Daniel dropped his pants and urinated on a bush.

Gabby walked over to a tree and looked back at Vincenzo with sad eyes. “Don’t watch me.”

“I won’t, honey. Do what you have to do. I’ll stay with Daniel.” He handed over the toilet paper. “You can wipe yourself, right?”

“Yes. I’m not a baby.” she said, taking the roll.

Vincenzo smiled and turned back to Daniel. He helped pull up the boy’s diaper—it was still clean, thank God—then his shorts. Daniel took off at a run, hurtling through the field with a happy yip. A white butterfly took flight in front of him, and he chased it around the field, shrieking with joy.

“Hey, keep it down!” Vincenzo whispered harshly. He was worried that someone might hear the boy’s cries. He couldn’t see much through the screen of brush that separated the field from the interstate, but he didn’t sense any movement on the other side. But he had the M1A slung over his shoulder, and the Beretta was in its holster at his waist. If anyone came to investigate the noise, he was pretty much ready for them.

When he started running back toward US 40, Vincenzo chased him down and tried to grab him, but the boy evaded him. He had tons of energy, so it took a lot of effort to finally catch him. When he did, Daniel’s response was violent.

“
No
!” Daniel turned and scratched at Vincenzo’s face with both hands. His expression was one of pure anger.

Vincenzo snapped his head back to avoid being slashed by the boy’s nails. “Hey, knock it off!” He wrapped his arms around the boy, pinning the kid’s arms against his sides.

Daniel tried to bite him then, and for a moment, the two of them wrestled. The boy wailed and struggled, but Vincenzo was able to overpower him. He carried the boy back to the Blazer, shoved him into the backseat, and buckled him in. Daniel whined and thrashed, but the seatbelt held him in place.

“Christ, kid! Calm down!” Vincenzo tried to hand him the hanger, but Daniel just knocked it away. Next, Vincenzo offered him some water, but he wasn’t having any of that either.

“What do you want?” Vincenzo asked.

The kid just kept freaking out. Vincenzo turned and saw Gabby wandering through the trees as if exploring. He called her name, exasperated.

“I’m done!” Gabby said proudly, holding up the roll of toilet paper.

“Come back!” Vincenzo ordered.

She trotted over and climbed into the truck. Vincenzo helped her with the seatbelt.

“Are we leaving now?” she asked. “I’m hungry.”

“I know, I know. No, we’re not leaving yet. I still need to get gas. What’s wrong with Daniel?”

“I dunno. He’s oddistic.”

“Yeah. I got that.” He reached around the center console, pulled out the Springfield .45, and placed it in the small of his back. “Listen, I’m going to go for a little bit. The two of you sit here and don’t touch anything. I’ll be back to start the truck and run the air conditioning after I get some fuel, okay?”

“Okay,” Gabby said, a little surly.

“Chock it!” Daniel demanded.