She was nice and tight on me now, and I could use my right hand to pump myself forward. My priority was to make good speed and distance. They would be out and running soon. I needed that alleyway.
It's a strange thing when people are being chased. Subconsciously they try to get as much distance as they can between themselves and their pursuers, and, whether it's in an urban environment or a rural one, they think that means going in a straight line. In fact, what you need to do is put in as many angles as possible, especially in a city or a town. If you come to an intersection with four options, it makes the chasers' job more difficult: they have a larger area to cover and have to split forces. A hare being chased in a field doesn't run in a straight line; it takes a big jump, changes direction, and off it goes again the pursuers are gaining momentum in a straight line and all of a sudden they have to change direction, too, which means slowing down, reevaluating their position. I was going to be that hare. As soon as I got to the end of the alleyway I was going to hang a left or a right, I didn't even know which yet, and run as fast as I could until I found other options.
I found the alley. No time to think if it was the right decision just make one. I could hear shouting behind me, maybe 100 to 150 yards away. But it wasn't directed at me.
They were too professional for that. They knew it wouldn't have any effect. I heard the cars turning around. They'd be trying to cut me off. I ran.
By now I was out of breath, with this seven-year-old on my back. My mouth was dry, and I was breaking into a sweat.
Kelly's head was banging onto the back of mine, and I was holding her so tight her chin was digging into my neck; it was starting to hurt her and she was crying.
"Stop, stop. Nick!"
I wasn't listening. I reached the end of the alley and ran into a totally different world.
In front of me was a narrow road that ran the length of the office buildings, and on the other side of it a grass embankment that went downhill to the main drag. Beyond that lay parking lots and the malls. Traffic noise drowned out Kelly's cries. The flow of vehicles was fast in both directions, despite the wet road. Most had their headlights on, and their wipers on intermittent. I stopped.
We must have looked a sight, a man with a shoeless child on his back, puffing and panting down the grass slope, the child moaning as her head banged on the back of his. I climbed the railings at the side of the main drag; now we were playing chicken with the traffic. Cars sounded their horns or braked sharply to avoid us. It seemed my new name was fuck, nut, or jerk. I didn't acknowledge anybody, even the ones who'd saved our lives by braking; I just kept on running.
Kelly was screaming. The traffic scared her as much as the running. All her young life she'd probably been warned about playing near the road, and here she was on a grown-up's back, cars and trucks swerving all around her.
Crossing the railings at the far side, I was also starting to worry. Kelly was slowing me down, without a doubt, and I still had quite a distance to run to get to safety. I ducked and weaved through the parking lot, using the height of the pickups and minivans to block us from their view.
At the far right of the mall I could see a computer super store, Comp USA and that was where I headed. There's always a good chance that a large store on a corner site will have more than one entrance. I expected there to be one on the other side, maybe at the rear, so even if they saw me going in, they'd have problems.
I knew the store would be hard for them to deal with, because I'd had to do this sort of thing myself in Northern Ireland.
If a player went into a shopping center, we would send only one guy in with him, then rush to seal up all the exits. It was hard enough when we knew a target, let alone having to find and identify him. If he was doing anti surveillance drills, he could go up an elevator, leave by one exit, go back in through another and up an elevator two floors, down one floor, then wander out into a parking lot, and he's gone. If these boys were professional, they'd start sealing the exits as soon as they saw where I'd gone. I;had to be quick.
We went in through the wide automatic doors. The store had aisles and aisles of office equipment, computers, and software. I went past the checkout counters without taking a cart, still with Kelly on my back. The place was packed. I was standing there drenched with sweat, chest heaving up and down as I fought for breath. Kelly was crying. People started looking at us.
Kelly moaned, "I want to get down now!"
"No, let's just get out of here."
I took a look behind and could see two men coming across the parking lot. In their suits they looked very much like plainclothes police, and they were running purposefully toward the store; they'd be heading to block off the exits. I had to put in some angles, had to get that confusion going.
I ran down a couple of aisles crammed with CD ROM games, turned right, and ran along the exterior wall, looking for an exit. Fuck it, there wasn't one. The warehouse seemed to be one big sealed unit. I couldn't go back out the way I'd come in, but if I didn't find another exit, I was going to spend the rest of the day running around the shop in circles.
One of the young assistants looked at me, turned away, and went trotting down the aisle, obviously looking for the manager or a security guard. Seconds later two men in shirtsleeves with name badges started to approach us.
"Yes, excuse me? Can we help you?" all very polite, but in fact meaning " What the fuck are you doing in our store? " There was no time to answer. I ran toward the rear of the store, looking for loading bays, emergency doors, open windows, anything. At last I saw the sign I was hoping to see:
fire exit. I ran at it, pushed it open, and the alarm went off.
We were outside. We were on a platform, obviously used for deliveries, where trucks could back in and unload.
I ran down the four or five metal stairs and hit the ground.
As I started to run to the left I shouted at Kelly to hold tight.
The rear of the shopping mall was deserted, just a long stretch of administration areas, with Dumpsters, bins, and even a trailer detached from its truck and being used as a storeroom. There were piles of cardboard boxes and bulging trash bags everywhere, a day's worth of garbage. Beyond the blacktop was a chain-link fence surrounding the whole area, and probably about fifteen feet high. Then vacant ground with trees and bushes. On the other side of that, I guessed, would be more parking and more stores.
I felt like a trapped rat. I had only two exits now, the access roads at either end of the long line of stores. I couldn't get over the fence with Kelly on my back; if I tried to throw her over, she'd break her legs. I started to run to the left, along the rear of the stores, heading toward one of the access roads. It was no good they'd had too much time to react; the road would be sealed.
I had to make a decision quickly. I moved toward one of the collection areas of Dumpsters bagged-up garbage, and card board boxes.
I lifted her from my back and positioned her in among it all, throwing boxes over the top of her and moving others to fill in the gaps on each side.
She looked at me and started to cry.
I said, "Disneyland, Kelly! Disneyland!"
She stared at me, tears rolling down her cheeks, and I threw a couple of boxes over the top.
"I'll be back, I promise."
As I ran I looked at the trailer that was right up against the fence. It was a huge thing, the height of a truck. Without fifty pounds of young girl on my back, running toward it was like floating on air. At last I was in control. I felt as if I'd lost a ball and chain.
I sprinted like a maniac, using the cover of the bins and Dumpsters. I suddenly spotted the trunk of a car jutting out from one of the loading bays. It was a mid-1980s model, not one of the cars that had been chasing me. I'd check the ignition for keys, and if I was out of luck, I'd cross the open ground to the container.