The Hitman: Dirty Rotters (20 page)

“
Anyone else know about
it?”

“
No. Only me.”

“
It’s a good start.” I was
ready to leave. “Ready?”

“
Yes. But first make a
left. After three blocks, make a right.”

I put the car in drive and moved
around the stationary white vehicle to the stop sign. I turned
left. We were on the north side of the Red Square and none of this
neighborhood was that familiar. Street posts shined lights at every
stop sign. Each block looked the same as the previous. Nice houses.
Not rich, but definitely not poor. Lawns and houses were well
maintained. Bushes trimmed neatly. Fences painted. Nice cars parked
with small red lights visible on the dash. Unnecessary alarms.
Money well spent. Little B would tell me that they take care of
their own.

At the third block Palo told me to
turn right. I had already turned my blinker on. She seemed
preoccupied. Her hands rubbed against each other as if they were
either really cold or she was applying lotion that I couldn’t
smell. But she was quiet.

“
How far?” I said as I
turned and drove the 25mph speed limit.

“
Four blocks.”

She said it as if it didn’t matter. As
if three would have been fine, but four might just be better. She
looked worried. I didn’t press her. I did as told. I kept my eyes
wandering. Same houses as all the other blocks. Same makes and
models. Same colors even. Same cars. Same everything.

Boring.

As we reached the fourth stop sign,
Palo instructed, “Turn right. Drive another three blocks. Then
right again and go a few blocks and we should see what to do
next.”

I did as told. I yawned deep and full.
Palo sat still. After turning back onto Jean Avenue I realized we
had gone in a giant circle. Palo leaned forward, peering hard into
the distance. Then I was. I heard her gasp every-so
gently.

And I knew why.

The white Phantom was gone.

Is not my driver tonight.
I do not know him. I told him stay here.

Almost simultaneously we looked back,
me through the rearview mirror, her turning and looking over the
seat. Another block would take us back to where we started. I kept
driving. Then I saw a set of headlights slowly rounding a corner
behind us, three blocks back. I reached the next stop sign and
waited.

Then the lights went off behind us and
the car stopped.

“
I did not want to be right
about him,” Palo said. She was nervous. She turned back around and
sat still. Her wondrous eyes found mine. “He cannot follow
us.”

“
Don’t worry.”

“
He will tell Andrik
everything. I should not have called you.”

“
The only thing he’ll be
able to tell Andrik is how he lost us. I don’t think that will sit
well with Andrik.”

As I told her that, I shut my lights
off and stomped the gas pedal. We were through the next block
before the headlights of the Phantom came on.

I made a hard left two blocks later. I
barely slowed down. Palo slid against the door. The tires squealed.
I grinned. “Hang on.”

The next stop was a hard right, 35mph
at a ninety degree angle, which sent Palo tight against my right
side. We fishtailed. More squealing. More grinning. Before Palo
could resituate herself back upright, I made another hard right,
keeping her frame pressed against mine. She smelled great. I didn’t
mind.

I floored it then. The El Camino’s 450
horse power engine roared to life, thrusting forward like a shotgun
blast, matting our backs to the seats. And I was a hard driver. The
Phantom was a beautiful car, speed and comfort, and may have been a
match in a long distance race, but this was a shoot out of short
blocks. Stop then go. Left then right. Black marks on the pavement
in sloppy fishtails. It was right up my alley. The Phantom wasn’t
going to catch us. Not a chance.

We were on the second block when the
headlights lit up the mirrors. Palo shrieked, “He’s
coming!”

“
Hang on!”

We had run through a dozen
intersections already. A few more wouldn’t matter at this time of
night, in this upscale neighborhood where folks were already fast
asleep. We needed to get out of town. We needed
distractions.

Or one big distraction.

I checked the clock, did the math in
my head, then came to the next street and made another hard right.
Palo fought a good fight to keep from sliding into me again, but in
the end physics won, and in turn, so did I.

“
Where are we going?” she
asked quickly.

“
I know a spot. Bear with
me.”

“
I hope you know what
you’re doing!”

For the first time in a long time, I
did.

I needed to time everything just
right. Which meant I had to be near the location, but not to it
yet. It was a quarter to three and I still had a few minutes to
kill. The Phantom wasn’t pressing us either, but keeping back a
block at a time, as if he didn’t understand that his job now was
ruined. I think he just didn’t know what to do anymore, so he
followed us.

I made another right hand turn, slower
this time, not so much in a mad panic, partly to respect Palo, and
partly to buy some precious time. I didn’t want to be early, and
being late would kill everything.

We were back in my stomping land where
I knew much of the area. I knew that there would be folks out and
about, that traffic would still be enough to force us to keep the
speed limit, and the most important factor: I knew about schedules.
Trains, in particular.

We made our way through the busier
areas where folks were either walking or standing, alone or in
groups. I rolled through the stop signs when it was safe enough.
The Phantom made full stops.

A half a mile ahead of us the houses
stopped. No street lights any more. No houses. No people. No
avenues or side streets. The street sloped to a short rise,
venturing through a thick wooded area leading out of town into the
country. Atop the rise were the train tracks, crossing left and
right, north and south.

“
Where is it?” I said
quietly. I kept driving. Everything went quiet. I grew
nervous.

Dammit.

We were under a hundred yards when I
saw the light of the train. Palo did too. She pointed to it. Her
slender hand reached out in front of my face, pointing to the left.
She grimaced in worry. I smiled in relief. It was early. Or maybe
it wasn’t. Maybe nightly train runs didn’t use exact time schedules
like clockwork. Maybe they had more slack than a guy punching in
working an eight hour shift.

“
Hang on!”

I stepped on the gas hard. Pedal to
the floor. The rubber of my sneaker sole met the carpet. It was
going to be tight. I had miscalculated it. To our left, coming like
a cannon ball, was the train, moving steady, unaware. A juggernaut
through the black. My hands wrapped around the steering wheel,
white-knuckled. I heard Palo scream. From the corner of my eyes I
noticed her squirm and grab hold of the door handle.

The train pressed closer.

So did we.

The lights from the Phantom did too. I
guess the driver caught on. He deserved more credit than I gave
him.

I stared at the light of the train. We
were destined to reach the same spot in the road at the same time.
Collision was inevitable. I pressed my right foot harder down onto
the gas pedal, but it didn’t budge.

“
Hitman?” Palo’s voice was
pleading.

We were within twenty yards now.
Speeding over 90mph. One hell of a ticket.

The train whistled, loud and long. A
warning.

Ten yards. Another warning. Longer,
though just as unnecessary.

I could make out the entire train now.
It was long. Blacker than the night around it. The Phantom was now
within a block, and hitting the brakes hard, skidding slightly to
the right. I could picture the driver screaming.

We raced up the slope to the summit,
both of us screaming over the train’s nightmarish wail, and jumped
the hill as the train swept past just behind, missing the
taillights by inches. We landed a short distance later, not
smoothly, and braked hard.

Palo was still screaming as the car
stopped at a narrow two-track overgrown by weeds leading into a
thicket where the woods began. In the day it was hard to see. In
the pitch darkness, it was invisible. I killed the headlights and
backed in. The woods swallowed us from the world.

A moment later I killed the
engine.

Palo punched my arm.

I looked over to her. She was mad and
scared and visibly shaking. “What?”

“
I pay you to save us, not
kill us!”

“
It wasn’t that close,” I
lied.

“
What are we doing here?”
she was mystified. I could barely see her.

“
Waiting.”

I could hear her heavy breathing. A
moment later the rumbling of the train died away. Through the
breaks in the trees I saw headlights barrel over the small rise.
Palo and I watched the white Phantom speed right past
us.

“
How did you
know?”

“
I didn’t. I took a guess.”
I saw her mouth open in shock. “What else would he do? The guy
followed us all the way here. I figured he saw himself having three
options. One was to remain and wait out the train. The second was
to backtrack and either go around the train from the front, or the
rear, and come to the same place, maybe hoping to see us circling
back. But that was costly either way. Too much of a
gamble.”

“
What of the
third?”

The third was to go back and tell
Andrik that he failed. I imagine when this is over, he’ll go back
and park it right where you told him to stay. Not a word to
Andrik.”

I started up the car. I drove out to
the road. We looked to the right and saw nothing but darkness. I
turned left.

“
Where is he
now?”

“
Probably out in the middle
of nowhere asking himself that very same question.” I
smiled.

“
You are a crazy driver,
Hitman.” Palo mused. “My angel.

Chapter 16

It was 3:15 a.m.

The drive across the city
was not as long as it seemed. Everything was well lit. Not a lot of
traffic. I hit every yellow light and stopped for none, until we
reached the expressway. We drove east, passing through some hard
neighborhoods. We were on it and off it again before a full ten
minutes was up. I was tired and now hungry. Conversations had been
nonexistent. My thoughts were on Anna. Palo didn’t share her
thoughts. I had looked over at her every now and then, almost a
casual
you awake?
look. If she had slept, I would not have cared. We didn’t both
need to be awake. But we were anyway.

My God she smelled
good.

I looked again at the paper with the
address on it. I found the street. A knot began to form in my gut,
knowing our destination was mere minutes away. Whatever drowsiness
had clung to me died instantly.

“
It’s down this street,” I
said.

Palo shifted, sitting upright, looking
more alert. Looking great.

“
It was a long way,” she
said quietly, then yawned. “Not easy to find.”

I yawned too. No bother fighting
it.

Palo told me earlier that Anna was
smart. As we ventured into the area she picked to hide out I agreed
that she had made a good decision. First I had pictured the place
to be more of a desolate surrounding where she wouldn’t be
bothered. Mistake. Anna knew better. Anna wanted witnesses. Anna
wanted someplace where there would be people out and about. Not
just anybody, but smart bodies. Minds that would be alert, drawn to
things out of the norm. People who would hear a gunshot and know
right away that something was wrong.

I had to park on a one-way street
facing east. I checked the address again then killed the engine and
the lights. We were a block away from the main strip of bars where
the college kids spent time between books and class. Nice area.
Lots of businesses. Lots of apartments. Plenty of eyes. Heavily
trafficked. Even this late there were young men and women walking
in small groups. Heads turned in our direction, eyes looking
curiously. I noticed a few sweatshirts with symbols on them, Greek
letters or something, fraternity and sorority names I knew nothing
of.

The street was full of parked cars. I
found a gap and had to parallel park—not my strong point. I managed
okay. The address we were looking for was ahead of us, down four
houses. I could see the house numbers right next to the front door.
Black numbers in a diagonal line angling down to the right. The
porch light was on. It was a fat two story house, probably a
hundred years old. Most of the houses were old. Most of them rented
out to the college kids. Most of them had lights on, inside or
out.

Friday nights around here didn’t
respect sleep the way I did.