He sat up on the bed. He had a headache and the start of a cold. Kansas City flu. Maybe Mokola fever.
Dont panic he said, under his breath.
29. Dead mall
But he sort of had this feeling.
He got up and felt his way to the front. A little bit of light there, coming from under the door. He found the handle. Eased it open a crack.
Hey there. Gold at the edges of a smile. Square little automatic pointing at Rydells eye. Hed swung the passenger-side bucket around and tilted it back. Had his boots up on the middle seat. Had the dome-light turned down low.
Wheres Mrs. Elliott?
Mrs. Elliott is gone.
Rydell opened the door the rest of the way. She work for you?
No the man said. Shes IntenSecure.
They put her on that plane to keep track of me?
The man shrugged. Rydell noticed that the gun didnt move at all when he did that. He was wearing surgical gloves, and that same long coat hed had on when hed gotten out of the Russians car, like an Australian duster made out of black micropore.
Howd she know to pick us up by that tattoo parlor?
Warbaby had to be good for something. He had a couple of people on you for backup.
Didnt see anybody Rydell said.
Werent supposed to.
Tell me something Rydell said. You the one did that Blix guy, up in the hotel?
The man looked at him over the barrel of the gun. That small a bore, ordinarily, wouldnt mean much damage, so Rydell figured the ammunition would be doctored some way. I dont see what its got to do with you he said.
Rydell thought about it. I saw a picture of it. You just dont look that crazy.
Its my job he said.
Uh-huh, Rydell thought, just like running a french-fry computer. There was a fridge and sink on the right side of the door, so he knew he couldnt move that way. If he went left, he figured the guyd just stitch through the bulkhead, probably get the girl, too.
Dont even think about it.
About what?
The hero thing. The cop shit. He took his feet off the center bucket. Just do this. Slowly. Very. Get into the drivers seat and put your hands on the wheel. Nine oclock and two oclock. Keep them there. If you dont keep them there, Ill shoot you behind your right ear. But you wont hear it. He had this kind of slow, even tone, reminded Rydell of a vet talking to a horse.
Rydell did like he was told. He couldnt see anything outside. Just dark, and the reflections from the dome light. Where are we? he asked.
You like malls, Rydell? You got malls back in Knoxville? Rydell looked at him sideways.
Eyes front, please.
Yeah, we got malls.
This one didnt do so well.
Rydell squeezed the foam padding on the wheel.
Relax.
Rydell heard him give the bulkhead a kick with the heel of one boot. Miss Washington! Rise and shine, Miss Washington! Do us the favor of your presence.
Rydell heard the double thump as she startled from sleep, tried to jump up, hit her head, fell off the bed. Then he saw her white face reflected in the windshield, there in the doorway. Saw her see the man, the gun.
Not the screaming kind. You shot Sammy Sal she said.
You tried to electrocute me the man said, like he could afford to see the humor in it now. Come out here, turn around, and straddle the central console. Very slowly. Thats right. Now lean forward and brace your hands on the seat.
She wound up next to Rydell, her legs on either side of the instrument console, facing backward. Like she was riding some cafe-racer.
Gave him about a two-inch difference of arc between shooting either one of them in the head.
I want you to take your jacket off he said to her, so youll have to take your hands off the seat to do that. See if you can manage to keep at least one hand on the seat at all times. Take plenty of time.
When shed gotten it to where she could shrug it off her left shoulder, it fell over against the mans legs.
Are there any hypodermic needles in here he said, any blades, dangerous objects of any kind?
No she said.
How about electrical charges? You dont have a great record for that.
Just the assholes glasses and a phone.
See, Rydell he said, the asshole. How hell be remembered. Nameless. Another nameless asshole He was going through the jackets pockets with his free hand. Came up with the case and the phone and put them on the RVs deep, padded dash-panel. Rydell had his head turned now and was watching him, even though hed been told not to. He watched the gloved hand open the case by feel, take out the black glasses. That was the only time those eyes left him, to check those glasses, and that took about a second.
Thats them Rydell said. You got em now.
The hand put them back in their case, closed it. Yes.
Now what?
The smile went away. When it did, it looked like he didnt have any lips. Then it came back, wider and steeper.
You think you could get me a Coke out of the fridge? All the windows, the door back there, are sealed.
You want a Coke? Like she didnt believe him. Youre gonna shoot me. When I get up.
No he said, not necessarily. Because I want a Coke. My throats a little dry.
She turned her head to look at Rydell, eyes big with fear.
Get him his Coke Rydell said.
She got off the console and edged through, into the back, there, but just by the door, where the fridge was.
Look out the front he reminded Rydell. Rydell saw the fridge-light come on, reflected there, caught a glimpse of her squatting down.
D-diet or regular? she said.
Diet he said, please.
Classic or decaf?
Classic. He made a little sound that Rydell thought might be a laugh.
Theres no glasses.
He made the sound again. Can.
K-kinda messy she said, m-my hands shakin Rydell looked sideways, saw him take the red can, some brown cola dripping off the side. Thank you. You can take your pants off now.
What?
Those black ones youre wearing. Just peel them down, slow. But I like the socks. Say well keep the socks.
Rydell caught the expression on her face, reflected in the black windshield, then saw how it went sort of blank. She bent, working the tight pants down.
Now get back on the console. Thats right. Just like you were. Let me look at you. You want to look too, Rydell?
Rydell turned, saw her squatting there, her bare legs smooth and muscular, dead white in the glow of the dome-light. The man took a long swallow of Coke, watching Rydell around the rim. He put the can down on the dash-panel and wiped his mouth with the back of his gloved hand. Not bad, huh, Rydell? with a nod toward Chevette Washington. Some potential there, Id say.
Rydell looked at him.
Is this bothering you, Rydell?
Rydell didnt answer.
The man made the sound that mightve been a laugh. Drank some Coke. You think I enjoyed having to mess that shitbag up the way I did, Rydell?
I dont know.
But you think I did. I know you think I enjoyed it. And I did, I did enjoy it. But you know what the difference is?
The difference?
I didnt have a hard on when I did it. Thats the difference.
Did you know him?
What?
I mean like was it personal, why you did that?