Remote Control (38 page)
Authors: Andy McNab
Kelly had already been woken by the strong white light under the filling station’s canopy and now took an interest in the mobile disco. I motioned with my hand through the window to ask her if she wanted a drink. She nodded, rubbing her eyes.
I went inside, picked up some drinks and sandwiches, and went up to the pay desk. The cashier, a black guy in his late fifties, started totalling up my stuff.
The two girls came in, followed by one of the boys. Both girls had dyed-blond, shoulder-length hair. The lad was skinny, spotty, and had a bum-fluff goatee beard.
The cashier winked and said quietly, ‘Love is blind.’ I smiled in agreement.
The girls were talking to each other and their noise was louder than the music system’s. Maybe they’d blown their eardrums. I looked outside at the other boy filling up. All were in the same uniform: baggy T-shirts and shorts. They looked as if they’d been to the beach. You could tell they had money, Daddy’s money.
They lined up behind me. One of the girls was going to pay. ‘That was a most totally cool day,’ she shouted. I was meeting a real-life member of the cast of
Clueless
. By the sound of the conversation, their parents were total arseholes who never gave them enough money, even though they were loaded and could easily afford it.
Clueless
. By the sound of the conversation, their parents were total arseholes who never gave them enough money, even though they were loaded and could easily afford it.
The black guy gave me my change and leaned over to me. ‘Maybe getting a job would help!’ His eyes twinkled.
I smiled back and started to pick up my stuff from the counter. The girl came level with me to pay and opened up her purse. Clueless Two, still behind me with the boy, was pissed off with the cashier’s comment and with me for agreeing. ‘Look at that face, guys!’ she stage-whispered behind my back. ‘What’s bitten you, mister?’ The lad guffawed.
Daddy was very generous by the look of it, no matter what she said. I saw a wad of cash and enough cards for a bridge tournament. The others behind me were holding the beers they’d got from the fridge and giggling. I left.
Our vehicles were facing each other on the forecourt. Sitting in the front of the Cherokee was the fourth member of the group, who’d finished filling up and was now air-drumming along to whatever the shit was on the CD.
Kelly was lying on the back seat. I went over to her window, hiding just below it, then tapped. Kelly sat up, startled, and I held up her Coke.
The other three were now coming out of the shop. Clueless Two was still pissed off. As they got in their car I heard one of the girls shriek, ‘Fucking asshole.’ ‘Is that the black asshole or the white asshole?’ her friend replied, and they closed the doors to gales of laughter.
I got into the Dodge and drove over to the air point. The story was now being told to the driver and I could see them all getting worked up about it. The boys had to show how hard they were and the girls didn’t like being shown up in front of their beaus. There was a lot of chemistry driving out of the garage.
As the Cherokee rolled off the forecourt it caught me in its headlights, chatting away with Kelly as I checked the tyres. They slowed right down and looked at us. Clueless One must have made a funny about my appearance, because they all laughed and the driver gave me the finger to make himself look good and then zoomed off into the night.
I gave it about a minute, backed out and followed.
I didn’t want to do it on the highway unless I had to. Sooner or later, I guessed, they’d turn off the main drag so they could drink those beers out of sight of highway cops and maybe spread a couple of blankets on the ground.
After just 5 miles we followed the big jeep onto a potholed tarmac road that seemed to go through the middle of nowhere.
‘Kelly, see that car ahead? I have to stop and ask them something. I want you to stay in the car, OK?’
‘OK.’ She was more interested in the Coke.
I didn’t want to force them off the road or anything drastic. It had to look natural in case another car drove past.
We passed a roadside shop that was closed, then a large truck park, then a trailer-home site and a big stretch of dark nothingness, then an isolated house. I was beginning to think I’d fucked up when at last it happened. I saw a stop sign 400 yards ahead; accelerating, I got a bit closer and checked for other car lights.
I drove up level on their left-hand side. Bipping my horn, I waved at them with the map book and gave a big smile. They all looked over and, as I turned the interior light on, they saw first me, then Kelly in the back half asleep. They looked worried, then obviously recognized me as the white asshole. Funnies were exchanged and their beer cans came back up to their mouths from their hiding places.
I got out. The crickets were louder out here than at the filling station. I kept looking at them, smiling. The map book was for Washington, DC, but they weren’t to know that, and by the time they did it would be too late.
The driver was making a comment to the rest, probably joking about driving off as soon as I got to the door.
I said, ‘Hiya! Can you help me? I’m trying to get to Raleigh,’ which was a place I’d seen signposted on the freeway, way back in North Carolina.
As the electric window rolled down further I could hear whispered giggles from the back seat for the driver to fuck me off. I could see he had other ideas, maybe to send me anywhere but Raleigh. ‘Sure, man, I’ll show you.’
I put the map book through the open window and into his hands. ‘I don’t know how I got lost. I must have taken the wrong turning after I got some gas.’
He didn’t need the map book. He started to give directions, pointing down the road. ‘Hey, man, just turn left and go for about twenty miles until you see . . .’ The girls were liking this one, working hard to stifle their sniggers.
I got hold of his head with my left hand, pulled my pistol up, and stuck it into the young flesh of his cheek.
‘Oh shit, he’s got a gun, he’s got a gun!’
The other three fell silent, but the driver’s mouth went into freewheel. ‘I’m sorry, man, it was a joke, just a joke. We’re drunk, man. It’s the bitch in the back who started it, I’ve got nothing against you, man.’
I couldn’t even be bothered to answer him. I shouted into the back, ‘Throw your purses out! Now!’
My American accent was quite good, I thought. I just hoped I was looking scary enough. The girls passed over their handbags. By now the driver was trembling and quiet tears rolled down his cheeks. The girls cuddled each other.
I looked at the front passenger. ‘You.’
He looked at me as if he was one of a hundred I could be talking to. ‘Yes, you. Give me your money, out of this window.’ It took all of two seconds for him to comply.
Now it was the driver’s turn, and he beat his pal’s record. I reached in, took the keys and put them in my pocket. He didn’t look too clever now. I had another look around for lights. All clear. The pistol was still against his skin. I said quietly into his ear, ‘I’m going to kill you now.’
Everyone else heard it and wanted nothing to do with him. I said, ‘Say whatever prayer you need to say and be quick.’
He didn’t pray, he begged. ‘Please don’t kill me, man, please don’t.’
I looked down and saw that his shorts, made of grey sweatshirt material, were rather darker now. Daddy would not be impressed with the stains on his nice beige leather.
I was quite enjoying it, but knew I had to get going. I stepped back and picked everything off the road. I glanced at Clueless Two. She looked like she’d swallowed a wasp. ‘What’s bitten you?’ I said.
I got in the car, did a 180, and drove off.
Kelly said, ‘Why did you make those people give you their things?’ She sounded confused.
‘Because we need loads of money, and we’re much nicer than they are, so they wanted us to have it.’
I looked at her in the rear-view mirror. She knew damned well I was lying.
I said, ‘You want a job?’
‘What?’
‘Count this money.’
She opened up the bags and wallets and piled all the notes in her lap.
‘More than a million dollars,’ she said at length.
‘Maybe count it once more to check.’
Five minutes later I got the more realistic figure of $336. The
Clueless
girls were wrong. Daddy was a diamond.
Clueless
girls were wrong. Daddy was a diamond.
We started seeing signs for Florence. That would do me fine. The town was 60 miles away, and it was about five twenty in the morning. It would be getting light by sevenish and, if possible, I wanted to be in a town before dawn. I’d dump the Dodge, and we’d have to find some other transport. Whatever, we needed to get to Florida.
About ten miles short, I saw a sign for a lay-by picnic area with toilets and an information kiosk. I pulled in and took a free map of the town and surrounding area. Kelly was semi-awake as we parked up. I opened the door and got out. The birds were singing and I could just make out the pre-dawn. There was a little nip in the air, but you could tell it was going to be a nice warm day. It felt great to have a stretch; I stank of sweat and had a layer of grease on my skin; my eyes were stinging and no doubt were bloodshot and swollen from lack of sleep. The pain in my neck still made me walk as if I had a plank of wood strapped to my back.
The map showed a train station in the town; not necessarily helpful, but it was a start. I got back into the car and started to get the bags and wallets together to dump. All were expensive leather. A couple were even monogrammed. Inside one of them I found heroin and a lump of pot in tin foil. The spoiled brats had obviously been Easter ‘breakers’, college kids using up all their hormones before the next term. Mummy and Daddy worked their arses off and provided for these kids and they thought the world owed them a living. Fuck ’em, I was glad I’d robbed them. I laughed; there was a good chance they’d be too embarrassed even to report it. They were probably still sitting there blaming each other and trying to think of a way of getting piss stains off leather upholstery. I dumped everything in the bins.
We drove towards the station. It looked as if the town centre was terminally ill but big efforts had been made to keep the patient alive; the old historical centre had been rejuvenated, but it seemed that every shop sold scented candles, guest soap and pot pourri. There was nothing there for real people, no life in it at all.
We got to the station, and it could have been any station in any American town, full of the homeless who stayed there because it was warm. It reeked of bodies and decay. Drunks were sprawled on benches that nobody in their right mind would go near in case they got their head bitten off.
I looked at the destination boards. It seemed we could get to De Land by train, with a bus transfer to Daytona. It was just before six a.m.; the train would be arriving at seven.
The ticket office was already open and looked as if it had been modelled on a Korean 7-Eleven, wire mesh everywhere, painted white but chipped. I could just about see the large black face behind it that was demanding to know where I wanted to go.
An hour later we got on the train, found our seats and collapsed. Our carriage was no more than half full. Kelly cuddled into me, dog-tired.
‘Nick?’
‘What?’
I was busy looking at the other passengers. They all looked like me, frazzled grown-ups looking after kids.
‘Where are we going?’
‘To see a friend.’
‘Who’s that?’ She sounded happy at the idea. Probably she was fed up with my company.
‘He lives near the beach. His name is Frankie.’
‘Are we going on vacation with him?’
‘No, Frankie’s not that kind of friend.’
I decided to keep the conversation going as she would be asleep in no time at all. The rhythmic sounds and motion of the train would soon send her off.
‘Who is your best friend? Is it Melissa?’
‘Yes.’
‘How come she’s your
best
friend?’
best
friend?’
‘Uh – we ride bikes together, and go to each other’s houses a lot. We have secrets.’
‘What kind of secrets do you have?’
‘Silly, that would be telling! Who’s your best friend?’
That was easy, but I wasn’t going to say his name. If we were lifted again, I would hate it if he was mentioned and put in danger. The sun was starting to burn through the windows; I leaned across her and pulled down the blind.
‘My best friend is called . . . David.’ It was about as far away from Euan as I could think of. ‘Just like you and Melissa, we tell each other things that no-one else knows. In fact, he has a daughter who’s just a little bit older than you. No-one else knows about her apart from David and me – and now you!’
There was no reply. It seemed she was starting to doze off. I carried on anyway, I didn’t know why. ‘We’ve known each other since we were seventeen and we’ve been friends ever since.’ I started to stroke her hair. I was going to talk more, but found it really hard to tell her. I couldn’t put it into words. Euan and I were just there for each other and always had been. That was it really. I just didn’t have the tools to describe it.
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