She blinked twice rapidly.
He smiled. “See, we’re already getting along.”
He pried open her lips and slipped one pill through them. He waited for her to swallow, but she didn’t.
“Water?” he asked.
Two blinks.
He turned around and picked up a water bottle from the floor.
“Jesus Christ, you really are into her,” Dwight said from the driver’s seat.
“Don’t be ridiculous; I’m just trying to keep her alive,” he said, and returned to helping Alice swallow the pills.
Either the pills knocked her out or the combination of pain and meds did. Either way, Alice was sleeping soundly in the backseat by the time Dwight pulled the Chevy into a roadside convenience store and parked next to a couple of semitrailers that had shut down for the night.
Dwight killed the engine and let the darkness swallow them up. Whoever was working the store would still be able to see them, thanks to the streetlights, but Reese doubted if the employee would care about a sedan parking for the night, especially amongst two big rigs that were already there and doing the same.
“I guess we’re fucked,” Dwight said, tearing open a bag of Twinkies before sucking out the white cream filling, while his other hand busied with opening a large-size can of Red Bull wedged between his thighs.
Dwight didn’t sound nearly as angry as Reese had been expecting; in fact, he was remarkably calm, which was a rarity when it came to his partner. That in itself was surprising, but considering the series of failures they’d had to deal with today, it was downright miraculous.
“Not necessarily,” Reese said.
“You don’t think so? Not even after those guys back at the motel?”
“It’s safe to say they figured out we never intended to make the rendezvous point, so they came searching for us.”
“How’d they do that, by the way?”
“The burner phone they gave me. They probably had some kind of tracking software installed on it.” When Dwight flashed him a concerned look, “I got rid of it back at the motel.”
“That wasn’t the first phone they gave you.”
“Nope.”
“You think they could always track us, even on past jobs?”
“That would be my guess.”
“Paranoid bastards.”
“Indeed.”
Dwight started working on the yellow part of the Twinkie. “So what are our choices?” he asked between bites.
“I guess it all depends on how determined they are, whether they want to cut their losses or make their dissatisfaction with our performance a permanent thing.”
Dwight chuckled. “You say it like we screwed up their pizza order. We probably coast them a few hundred grand with that shipment.”
“You’re lowballing it.”
“No kidding?”
“I’m pretty sure.”
“Well, damn. Maybe I’ve been in the wrong business all this time.”
“You were in the right business; you were just at the wrong end of it.”
“Figures,” Dwight grunted. “When have I not ended up on the wrong end of things?”
“At least the pay was good.”
“Yeah, but I bet it’s gooder on the other side.”
Reese smiled. “Likely.”
“So, the drivers are probably goners,” Dwight said. “If they’re even still alive after Sleeping Beauty back there pumped their cab full of bullets.”
“I think that’s a safe assumption. Leave no loose ends.”
“Like us.”
“Uh huh.”
Reese watched a van pull into the parking lot behind them and instinctively reached for the MP5K resting in his lap, but relaxed when the vehicle drove past them and pulled up to one of the gas pumps instead. A fifty-something man climbed out of the van and made his way to the store, hitching up his pants as he went.
“Our reputation’s going to take a hit,” Dwight said.
“That’s putting the cart well before the horse, partner.”
“So, what’s the cart?”
“Getting out of this alive.”
“Makes sense. I’m very biased toward staying alive. Call me selfish if you want, but that’s just me.”
“First things first: We need to find out how far they’re willing to pursue this.”
“You still gotta ask that after the motel?”
“The motel is here, now. It was an easy decision. Tomorrow, the week after that, won’t be so easy.”
“And if they’re not going to stop?”
“We can only run so far for so long before they eventually catch up to us.”
“I don’t know, dude, I can run pretty far.”
“Even so…”
“So worst case, what happens if they don’t feel like letting us off the hook after tonight?”
“Then I guess we’ll have to kill them.”
“All of them?”
“That goes without saying.”
Dwight chuckled. “And I thought I was the crazy one.”
“I call it practical.”
“Your ‘practical’ sucks.”
“That may be, but I don’t see any other choices. If they won’t let it go, then we need to end them before they end us. It’s as simple as that.”
“Simple and stupid.”
“Only if we fail.”
“Which, in all likelihood, we will. They’re bosses and we’re worker bees for a reason, you know.”
“Even the bosses were worker bees once upon a time.”
“That supposed to make me feel better?”
“Does it?”
“Not even close.”
“Oh, well,” Reese said.
“They probably have more assholes like the ones bleeding out back at the motel,” Dwight said. “A whole bunch of assholes. An asshole factory, if you will.”
“That’s the spirit.”
“This job just keeps getting better and better,” Dwight said, and opened a bag of chips and started loudly crunching them. “Have I told you how much I regret this partnership of ours?”
“Only twice in the last week.”
“Well, it really sucks.”
“Noted,” Reese said. “You got some water left?”
“What happened to yours?”
“I gave it to Alice to help her with the pills.”
“Then ask Alice for it back, motherfucker,” Dwight said. “Or you could do something for once and go buy your own damn water from the store, instead of always letting me do the legwork.”
“I’m wounded. You really think it’s a good idea for me to walk in there with nothing on but a blazer? Plus, I can barely walk without limping. It’s going to be pretty noticeable—”
“Okay, okay, Jesus,” Dwight said. He put the chips away and opened his car door. “Water, and what else?”
“Some food would be nice. Anything with protein.”
“You want I should make you a special plate, princess?”
“Would you?”
“Dinner and a show; I better get sex out of this.”
“Not now, dear; I have a gunshot wound,” Reese said.
Seventeen
The Tramadol was strong enough to knock her out, but she fought through it anyway, letting it do its job of numbing her body and fighting back against the excruciating pain, but at the same time never letting go completely. She remained in the backseat of the stolen Chevy, not moving or opening her eyes, but letting herself breathe normally (or as normally as she could manage, anyway) as if she were asleep.
None of those things were very hard to pull off since she wasn’t even sure she could move more than just her head if she had wanted to. Being dragged out of the motel room to the car was like having needles shoved into every part of her body. She had been forced to move on legs that might as well be engulfed in lava, while every inch of her spine gave the impression they were about to collapse inward like some black hole.