Lisa kept wanting to shout out for the police to shoot. At least then she and Marilyn might have a chance of crawling away. But the cops didn't want to take any chances. Besides, one of their own men was in that ward bleeding to death. And unless they agreed to the Decker brothers' terms, more lives would be lost than if they held out.
In the end the city provided them with a car, some clothes and money.
"You ready to travel, little brother?" Claude, the blond brother who had held Lisa so roughly earlier asked as he motioned with the gun for both women to get up and start walking.
"Yeah, yeah. Let's just get the fuck out of here," Art whispered, wincing with pain as he leaned on his two brothers' arms and started limping out of the ward. "We'll have two real pros taking care of us now," he said, laughing softly, then groaning as bolts of pain shot up from his fresh wound.
"Take it easy, Art. We'll be out of here in a few minutes," Claude said, grunting under the weight of his muscular younger brother.
Lisa turned around as she rose from the floor, helping Marilyn to her feet.
"Let's go, girls. The car's waitin'," Claude said gruffly as he pointed the muzzle of his pistol at Lisa's head.
"Ohhhh, God," Marilyn whimpered as she held tightly onto her friend's arm. The two nurses walked slowly down the corridor toward the elevator, anticipating more shooting.
But everything went along smoothly. They walked down the steps to the first floor and out the lobby. Ever step of the way their path was closely watched by the police for any opportunity to get them away from the Decker brothers. But the two brothers who carried Art so carefully also watched for any signs of trouble from the police.
"Open the door, blondie," Claude growled as they stood at the main entrance.
The rest of the trip was like a bad dream. Lisa and Marilyn walked quickly to their car, the Decker brothers closely behind them with guns pointing back at the main entrance. They walked backwards, making sure no one was going to interfere with their getaway. Claude and Hank literally threw their wounded brother into the back seat with Marilyn and Lisa while they slipped into the front seat.
"Where are you taking us?" Lisa asked in a quivering voice as Claude reached down and turned on the radio. He twisted the tuning knob until he found a news station. The two men ignored Lisa for the moment, listening to the reporter's account of what had happened at the hospital.
"We're famous, brother," Claude said, laughing and slapping Hank on the back.
"Never mind that," Art said from the rear seat. "Like blondie asked, where you goin'?"
"Don't you worry about it, Art," Hank said, turning around and looking at the three in the rear seat. Lisa could tell all the brothers were cut, from the same cloth. There was the identical leer on his face she'd seen on Art's earlier that evening. There was that same cold sadism gleaming in his deep-set, steely blue eyes that glowed in Art's Hank's. They were a family of killers.
"We got us a cabin up in the mountains, near the Spahn ranch. Shit, it took us days just to find it. The cops will never find us there. We can rest up before we head on down to Mexico. Claude here's workin' on a deal with some guy to smuggle us over the border secret-like."
"How did you get past all the police in the hospital?" Lisa asked, breaking into the conversation. She had to know.
"Blondie's kinda curious, eh?" Hank asked, resting his head on his hands and sneering at her.
"That was easy," Claude said, driving faster as the car sped out of the city limits. "We knew Art'd be brought over to Central Hospital. We picked that up on Hank's radio. We just got there before the cops had a chance to put up the big blockade outside. Then it was just a matter of time. It's easy to sneak around in a hospital if you look like you belong there. We borrowed some of those operating room gowns from the laundry and kept on walkin' around till we heard that Art was in your ward. You know the rest."
Lisa groaned and held tightly onto Marilyn as their Monte Carlo sped down the deserted highway toward the Decker brothers' mountain retreat. Far a while the blonde prayed the police would follow them. Then she remembered their threat – they'd kill her first, then Marilyn if they even suspected that the cops were following them.
As Claude suddenly turned the car onto a narrow mountain road, Lisa hoped the police would lag behind until the Deckers were safe in their cabin.
Claude followed the twisting road for twenty minutes, nearly driving the car off the road as he tried to keep the car going at fifty.
"Shit, you're gonna kill us before we get there, Claude," Hank yelled at his brother.
"My leg's killin' me," Art complained as Claude turned onto a smaller gravel road.
"You bring any drugs?" Claude asked. The car slowed down as it threaded its way through the thick mountain forest.
"Yeah. I grabbed some stuff from that medical cabinet before we split. Blondie here and her friend are gonna come in real handy for a while," Hank said as Claude pulled the car up to a small shanty at the end of the road. Lisa peered but of her window. The thick trees and overgrowth surrounding the tiny building seemed to hide it well. The road leading up to it was so narrow and its entrance obscured by bushy trees that Lisa was sure the police would miss it. Even if and when they found it, the Deckers would probably be gone. And she and Marilyn? Lisa shuddered as Claude climbed out the front seat and opened her door. She didn't want to think of what they'd do to the two of them.
"Get him inside," Hank said to Lisa and Marilyn as he followed the two women closely behind. "Hide the car behind the place."
The four of them entered the tiny, dark cabin. A strong, stale, musty odor hit Lisa's nostrils as she and Marilyn dragged Art to a cot at one end of the cabin. The furnishings were sparse: one table, three chairs, a small fireplace at the other end of the cabin, two other cots near the fireplace, and a pile of several pots, pans and tin dishes scattered around the floor near the table.
She and Marilyn laid Art gently on the cot. Lisa turned around and faced Hank. He stood up the table, both hands pressed against the edge while he smiled obscenely at the two women. Only now did Lisa get a really good look at the oldest Decker brother. His eyes sparkled with an almost unnatural intensity as he kept on staring at the two women. Lisa noticed a long, jagged scar that extended from his ear to the corner of his mouth. He was still wearing the operating greens he'd stolen from the hospital. But even with the loose-fitting material covering his body, Lisa could tell he was big-framed and muscular.
All that power for cruelty, Lisa thought as she felt her skin crawl with horror. Then she thought of the descriptions of the Decker brothers' victims, and Lisa had the urge to get up and run shrieking from the cabin.
"Thought you'd never get in," Claude said as Hank threw open the door and stomped in. "Got the car stashed?"
"Cops'll never find it," Hank said, wiping his mouth with, the back of his hand. Hank was the largest of the three brothers although he was the middle one in age. His long, almost greasy black hair hung down in his eyes almost constantly. He had a full, thick moustache that drooped down over the corners of his mouth. His shoulders were wide and thick, supporting two thick, muscular arms that looked as if they could break people apart easily. Thick matting of hair covered his chest and arms.
"Let's eat," Hank grunted, throwing one thick leg over a chair.