Body Rides

  But I’m taking them to Glitt. He might’ve never found us, and here we are, GOING to him.

  Suddenly, the insanity of it seemed so vast that Neal imagined himself leaning forward between the seatbacks and saying, ‘Turn it around. We’re going home.’

  He wanted to do that.

  But he couldn’t.

  Tonight, and only tonight, Glitt would be making a rendezvous with a paper sack in a garbage container in front of Video City.

  Miss him, and he’ll still be out there. But we won’t know where. Sooner or later, he’ll find us. But we won’t know when.

  Back out now, he’ll nail us for sure.

  They had started their trip at Marta’s apartment. From there, any of several routes would’ve led them to Video City. But Neal soon noticed that they were traveling on the very same backroad that he always took to the video store.

  The same road that he’d used Sunday night.

  They would soon be coming to the freeway underpass.

  They stopped for a traffic signal at National Boulevard. Turning in her seat, Sue looked back at Neal. ‘How ya doin?’ she asked.

  ‘Okay.’

  ‘Sure you are,’ Marta said. He could never fool her.

  ‘I’ve been better,’ he admitted. ‘Just scared. I wish we were back in bed.’

  ‘Well, it’ll all be over in a couple of hours.’

  ‘That’s what he’s scared of,’ Sue said.

  ‘I know we have to do this,’ Neal explained. ‘But I don’t like it.’

  ‘I sorta do,’ Sue said.

  ‘You what?’

  ‘Like it. I feel like when we was about to climb aboard that rollycoaster at the Fort. The Pony Express? All sorta trembly and excited.’

  ‘Wish I’d been there,’ Marta said. The traffic signal turned green, and she drove through the intersection.

  ‘The dang thing busted on us,’ Sue told her. ‘We was stuck way up there at the tippy-top. Scared the squeamin jimmies outa me. But it turned out fine. This here, it’s gonna turn out fine, too.’

  Listening, Neal had half expected Sue to tell Marta what they’d done while stuck at the summit of the rollercoaster. He was a little surprised that she left it out.

  ‘After this is all over,’ Marta said, ‘we should go to Disneyland.’

  ‘Yeah!’

  ‘Now that we’ve got half a million bucks,’ Neal said, ‘we might be able to afford it.’

  Marta turned her head slightly, and Neal saw the side of her face smiling. ‘The baby’s gonna love Disneyland. After it’s born, we’ll have to go two or three times a year.’

  ‘And we’ll all go, right?’ Sue asked. She sounded as if she wanted to make very sure that she wasn’t being eliminated from Marta’s visions of the future.

  ‘We’ll make you push the pram,’ Marta told her.

  Neal realized that they had already gone through the freeway underpass. He hadn’t noticed it at all, hadn’t given a moment of thought to the gangster threats scribbled on its walls, hadn’t felt its menace.

  They’d left it behind while talking of Disneyland.

  ‘Can I name it?’ Sue asked.

  ‘The baby?’ Marta asked.

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘No!’ Marta blurted, and laughed.

  The Jeep jolted as she drove across the old railroad tracks. Then she turned left.

  ‘I suppose we might listen to your suggestions,’ she relented. ‘But Neal and I will have the final say.’

  ‘Well, sure. Fair’s fair.’

  Head turned, Neal gazed out across the field. The wasteland. In the gray of the moonlight, he saw bare dirt, gravel and scruffy bushes, scabs of pale litter, vague shapes of discarded junk.

  He remembered his charge across the no-man’s-land and into the trees.

  There. Right there.

  Right in there is where the bastard had Elise.

  There in the narrow wilderness between the field and the slope of the freeway embankment. An area made for dark hiding, for playing games dreamt up in nightmares.

  There, he thought. Right there.

  I could’ve saved her. If only I’d finished him off.

  Should’ve crouched down over him and stuck the muzzle in his mouth.

  Boom!

  And one to die on.

  If only, if only . . .

  The main thing to remember is this, he told himself: don’t make the same mistake again. This time, kill him dead.

  Leaning forward, he said, ‘Over there, that’s where I almost saved Elise. In those trees over there.’

  Marta and Sue turned their heads. They gazed toward a place in the trees below the freeway. But not the correct place. Neal hadn’t spoken fast enough. The correct place had been left behind.

  ‘That’s where you did save her,’ Marta corrected him. ‘Not almost.’

  ‘No. I only gave her a reprieve. A short one.’

  ‘It ain’t yer fault,’ Sue said.

  ‘I know. It’s their fault. But I had a chance to get in the way and keep her alive. And I blew it.’

  Blew my chance to save the gal in the garage, too, he thought. But maybe there’d never been much chance to save her. Even if I could’ve found the place again . . . Such awful burns.

  She must be dead by now.

  But if I get into Glitt’s head, maybe I can find out where the garage is. It’d be worth a try. There’s a chance that she’s still alive . . .

  Slim to none.

  But I should try, he told himself. I have to try.

  Marta turned right and drove slowly up the last road to Video City.

  Sunday night on this very road, Elise had been hiding in the back seat of Neal’s car, injured and bloody, naked except for Neal’s shirt and Glitt’s shoes.

  Rasputin’s shoes, he reminded himself.

  The Beast of Belvedere.

  ‘I wonder how Vince met him,’ Neal said.

  ‘Met Glitt?’ Marta asked.

  ‘Yeah. Where do you go to find a guy like that?’

  ‘Look under rocks,’ Marta suggested.

  Neal saw the bright lights of Venice Boulevard ahead.

  Almost there! God!

  He suddenly felt breathless and sick.

  ‘That’s it on the corner,’ he muttered.

  Light spilled out from display windows along the side of Video City, washing over the walkway by the edge of the road.

  ‘Is it open?’ Sue asked.

  ‘Should’ve closed at midnight,’ Neal said. ‘I think they leave the lights on like that all night.’

  ‘The more light,’ Marta said, ‘the better.’

  ‘Speaking of which,’ Neal said, ‘you’d better kill the headlights.’

  She shut them off. Their bright tunnels disappeared, but the night was still pale with the glow of streetlights and the full moon.

  ‘Where should we park?’ Marta asked when they were adjacent to the building.

  ‘Not in the parking lot,’ Neal said.

  ‘How ’bout this street?’ Sue asked.

  ‘Yeah,’ Neal said. ‘Maybe over there. You could U it here.’

  Slowing almost to a stop, Marta eased the car toward the curb on the right. Then she swung it to the other side of the road. With the tail of the car toward Venice Boulevard, she straightened out beside the curb. Then she slowly backed up.

  Across the road, Video City seemed to slide out of the way.

  When they had a clear view of the entire parking lot, she stopped. ‘How’s this?’ she asked.

  Neal checked over his shoulder. ‘Back up some more. There’s a big shadow behind us.’

  Marta did as he asked. The shadow from a tree crept over the Jeep.

  ‘Here.’

  She stopped and shut off the engine.

  ‘Beautiful,’ Neal said.

  Though the shadow failed to hide them completely, at least it kept away the direct brightness of the full moon and the nearest streetlight.

  From a distance, they pro
bably looked like vague, dark shapes – if anyone should notice them at all. The eyes of a stranger might simply sweep past this section of road, notice that a vehicle seemed to be parked in a patch of darkness, and move on to brighter places.

  That was Neal’s guess, and his hope.

  Close up, he could make out the dim features of Marta and Sue. They both had their heads turned to the left. Both seemed to be studying the well-lighted parking lot across the road.

  He wished they’d worn dark tops. He hadn’t thought of it until now, though.

  There’d been no discussion of what to wear; they’d simply gotten dressed in what Sue had brought in from the living room – as if they were about to ran a little errand in the middle of the night, had no plan to leave the car, and figured nobody was likely to see them, anyway.

  Which had been fine with Neal.

  Even if he’d thought of dark clothes, he supposed he would’ve kept quiet for fear of ruining a good thing. It was nice to know that Marta wore nothing under her T-shirt, that Sue was naked under her knit top and pleated skirt. He wore nothing, himself, except his shorts and sneakers.

  Why didn’t we get dressed? he wondered.

  He supposed it had to do with comfort and with the good feel of keeping a bit of sexual tension in the air. More than that, however, it seemed like a way to deny that they were going on such a risky mission.

  Dress as if you’re stepping out for a few minutes – maybe to return a video.

  With a gun in my pocket.

  It felt strange to wear nothing under his shorts, but to have the pistol resting on his thigh. The pistol was cool and heavy through the thin fabric of his pocket.

  Marta turned sideways and looked over her shoulder at him. ‘Wanta hand me the camcorder?’

  He picked it up and passed it forward.

  As Marta opened its leather carrying case, Neal turned his attention to the parking lot. Five or six cars were scattered about, but the area was so large that it seemed nearly deserted. He saw nobody. The parked cars appeared to be empty, and he couldn’t see anyone moving around inside the store.

  The only activity was behind them on Venice Boulevard. There, a few vehicles were rushing by, making sounds like wind. Somebody in one of them had a radio playing too loudly, the bass blasting out booming noises that hid any sound of music.

  ‘I hope there’s enough light,’ Marta said.

  Neal looked at Video City’s glass doors, the walkway in front, the night return slot, and the round concrete garbage container where the money was supposed to be dropped. Light flooded out through the store windows. A harsher light fell on the area from the Standards that surrounded the parking lot.

  ‘It seems pretty bright,’ Neal said.

  Marta raised the camcorder to her eye. ‘Looks good,’ she said. There was a buzzing sound when she zoomed in. ‘Oh, yeah. This’ll be great.’

  ‘Now,’ Sue said, ‘if somebody’ll just show up.’

  ‘What time is it?’ Neal asked.

  ‘Twelve thirty-five.’

  ‘We shouldn’t have long to wait. Not for Vince, anyway. He planned to get here good and early.’

  ‘Last thing he wants,’ Marta said, ‘is a face-to-face with Glitt.’

  Sue chuckled. ‘Now that he’s shit outa cash.’

  ‘If he’s shit outa cash,’ Neal said.

  ‘He couldn’t have possibly scraped up another half a million,’ Marta said. ‘Not this fast.’

  ‘Anything’s possible.’

  ‘It might already be there,’ Sue said.

  ‘What?’ Neal asked.

  ‘The bag. Whatever’s in it. Vince coulda come and gone already, ya know?’

  ‘Or maybe he won’t come at all,’ Marta said.

  Sue flung open her door. ‘Back in a sec,’ she said and hopped out of the Jeep.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Marta asked.

  ‘Gonna take me a look in the garbage,’ she said, and broke into a run.

  ‘Don’t!’ Neal called. ‘Get back here.’

  Halfway across the road, Sue grinned over her shoulder. ‘Don’t worry none. Just gonna have me a peek.’ Then she faced forward and picked up her speed, bare feet striding out, her pleated white skirt lifting and prancing around her thighs.

  Fifty-Five

  ‘Look at her go,’ Marta said. She sounded impressed.

  ‘The idiot.’ Neal couldn’t take his eyes off Sue. She was really flying – already past the corner of the building and sprinting up the front walkway. ‘If Vince shows up now . . .’

  ‘Wouldn’t he be surprised?’

  ‘Say that again.’

  ‘It’s still early,’ Marta said.

  Neal suddenly imagined one of the cars in the parking lot roaring to life and racing toward Sue. It slams into her. Rips her off her feet. Folds her in half. With Sue sprawled over the hood it crashes through the plate glass and plunges on into the store.

  So far, however, all the cars remained motionless.

  Sue stopped at the garbage container. Putting her hands on both sides of its lid, she bent over at the waist and lowered her face toward the hole.

  A few moments later, she straightened up.

  Shoulders swiveling, head turning, she scanned the parking lot.

  ‘What’s she looking at?’ Marta asked, worry in her voice.

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Maybe she heard something.’

  ‘I don’t see anything wrong,’ Neal said.

  He reached into his pocket and slowly pulled out the Sig Sauer. He rested it on top of his thigh.

  Sue was again bent over, peering into the trash barrel.

  ‘She’s sure taking her time,’ Marta muttered. ‘I’d like to honk.’

  ‘Don’t,’ Neal said.

  She made a small, quiet laugh. ‘I won’t. But I’d like to.’

  ‘I’d like to swat her ass.’

  Turning her head, Marta grinned at him. ‘We’ll take turns.’

  ‘The damn bag’s either there or it isn’t. If Vince shows up while she’s there . . .’

  He quit speaking as Sue shifted sideways a bit and reached an arm down into the hole.

  ‘She’s going for something,’ Marta whispered.

  Face twisted away from the hole, Sue reached deeper and deeper.

  At the far end of the parking lot, a pair of headlights swept in from a sidestreet.

  ‘Shit!’ Neal gasped.

  Burger Boy was down there. For a moment, Neal hoped the car might be heading for its drive-through lane. But he suddenly remembered that the place no longer stayed open past midnight. After the kid had gotten shot there last month . . .

  The car drove straight into the Video City lot.

  And rushed toward Sue.

  Neal’s stomach dropped.

  Clutching the automatic, he leaped over the side of the Jeep.

  ‘Be careful!’ Marta gasped.

  As he rushed into the road, he saw Sue, bright in the headlights of the approaching car, come up quickly out of the trash barrel, a white sack in her hand. She faced the car and squinted into the glare of its lights.

  The lights slid off to her side. The car kept coming, but slowed down. Then it stopped, its front bumper still a few yards from Sue.

  The car was a black Cadillac.

  It didn’t look familiar to Neal.

  The driver climbed out. Leaving the door open, he made his way toward Sue. A big guy, so heavy that he seemed to have trouble walking. He wore a tank top and enormous blue jeans. His black pony tail swished from side to side as he waddled along.

  He carried a video tape. Just one. He held it off to the side, swinging it this way and that as if using it to ward off an invasion of his right flank.

  Neal, at the corner of the store, slipped the pistol into his pocket but held on to it.

  Sue smiled at the stranger. Then she opened the paper bag, glanced in, muttered something, wadded the bag and tossed it into the garbage container.

&nb
sp; ‘No luck?’ he asked her. He had a high-pitched voice that sounded girlish.

  ‘Nope,’ Sue said. Still smiling, she stepped off the walkway and extended a hand. ‘I’ll drop it in for ya,’ she said.

  ‘Much obliged,’ the stranger said, and handed the tape to Sue.

  She started to turn away.

  ‘Wait,’ he said.

  She faced him.

  He removed a wallet from a back pocket of his jeans.

  ‘Hey, no,’ Sue said. ‘I ain’t lookin for no handout. Honest.’

  He pulled out a bill and held it toward her. ‘I’m sure you can put this to good use. Please. I want you to take it.’

  Sue shook her head. ‘I got more money than I know what to do with already,’ she told him.

  ‘I saw what you were doing in the garbage. Looking for scraps . . .’

  ‘Naw. Just . . .’ She snatched the bill from his fingers and said, ‘Thanks, mister.’

  He waved a pudgy hand at her, then turned around and began slogging his way back to his car.

  Sue hurried over to the night return slot. She popped his video in, then looked down at the money in her hand. Whistling softly, she shook her head. She glanced toward Neal, shook her head again, then turned toward the man. ‘Thanks a real lot,’ she called. ‘God bless you.’

  His door thudded shut.

  Neal turned to a window. Staring in at the shelves of video tapes, he waited for the stranger to drive away. While he waited, Sue walked over to him.

  ‘Look at this,’ she said. ‘The fella gave me a fifty. Ya believe it? Look.’ She thrust the bill at him. ‘Nobody never gave me no fifty before.’

  ‘Let’s get outa here,’ Neal said.

  They started walking side by side. Sue held the fifty-dollar bill in front of her and gazed at it. ‘Never got me a tip this big when I was waitin tables at Sunny’s.’

  ‘He must’ve felt sorry for you,’ Neal said. ‘Saw you rooting through the garbage.’

  ‘Well . . .’

  ‘And how skinny you are.’

  ‘He sure was a nice guy. Too bad I didn’t run into someone like him back there in the days before I got rich.’ Reaching behind Neal, she patted his rump. ‘Thanks for runnin to my rescue.’

  ‘That might’ve been Vince, you know.’

  ‘Mighta been, but wasn’t. Anyhow, I didn’t find nothin in the trash can. Just some trash. So I reckon we got here first.’