Read Online An American Outlaw by John Stonehouse - Free Book Online
Authors: John Stonehouse
Tags: Nightmare
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Childress. Steven Childress? Like the dead guy?”
“Uh-huh,” says Agent Cornell. “I thought you'd want to know...”
“Y'all thought right.”
Del Norte Mountains.
Ten more miles—it couldn't be more.
This Ford Super Duty comes around a bend in the road. Suddenly it’s flashing its headlights on and off.
It closes with us—then it’s honking on its horn.
It blows by. The driver shouting something out the window.
Something up ahead ; it must be.
Tennille pushed the shotgun barrel at me from the back seat of the crew cab—its muzzle digging hard against my ribs.
I met her eyes, in the rear-view.
“Don't even think about stopping.”
Ten more miles.
Only minutes left.
Ahead, what—a roadblock, some kind of checkpoint?
“You need money?”
She didn't answer.
“How come you had to take a look—inside that bag?”
I glanced again in the rear-view. Saw her eyes flick up, then away.
“This guy in Marfa. He has money...”
I could feel her—wound up, two feet apart, in the truck.
She says; “What makes you think I believe you?”
“How come the radio's putting out an alert? A guy with nothing?”
She didn't answer.
“Fifty thousand dollars.”
“Just drive. Jesus Christ.”
I searched the ground stretching from the edge of the highway. Flat scrub. Low hills in the distance. No cover in a hundred yards.
“You got nothing to lose,” I says. “You got a mind, you can turn me in, do whatever the hell you want.”
I felt the dryness in my throat. There was nowhere to run.
“You drive this truck into Alpine, or I'll shoot you dead.”
If I stopped the truck—then what?
It'd take something for her to pull the trigger. A space as small as that cab.
“You need money?”
“Shut up. I'm turning you in,” she says, “you hear me?”
“Get me to Marfa...”
“Shut your damn mouth.”
“All you got to do is get me there...”
“I swear to God. I'll pull this trigger. I'll blow you clean through the windshield.”
My heart's racing. Maybe this was it. A girl I never would've met, that I didn't know a thing about. My life in her hands.
I'd only known her hours; I tried to think back. Anything she'd said. Why'd she want to see inside the bag?
She had to know .
I thought of the ruined miner's house. The way she found me. She said something; accused me. Something. About a husband. Then again—at the house. What was the name? She'd said a name. Lee ? Leo ? “Leon...”
“What?”
Her eyes met mine in the mirror.
“You thought he sent me—you said so.”
We came up a rise in the road. The faintest outlines through the heat haze. Buildings, in the distance, outlying the town, up ahead.
“Whatever trouble you're in, fifty thousand maybe get you out of it.”
“ Christ ,” she shouts out.
“Up ahead, there's going to be cops. You know it. On the junction into town.”
My hands were wet against the steering wheel. Electricity at my skin.
Last chance.
Put it all on her.
If I stopped the truck, what would she do?
Pull the trigger? Choke?
If we went on, I knew it was over. If I stepped out—if I put it all on her.
To shoot a man dead on a highway.
Watch a shotgun blast rip him apart.
Blood flying, like a slaughterhouse. I'd seen it before, that kind of pressure. Could she raise the stock? Push it in her shoulder?
“You're holding...”
No answer.
“You make the choice. I'm going to stop. I'm getting out.”
“I'll shoot you dead...”
“I'm getting out, I'll cut the junction on the road. On foot. I'll meet you in there. In the town”
Nothing from the back of the cab.
“You give me ten minutes, I'm not there you call the cops.”
Nothing.
“Tell 'em what you want. That I forced you to give me a ride. That you were bringing me in—I broke out...”
I felt the shotgun.
She held it up, against my cheekbone.
I braced my body. Foot lifting from the throttle pedal.
“What are you
“Uh-huh,” says Agent Cornell. “I thought you'd want to know...”
“Y'all thought right.”
Del Norte Mountains.
Ten more miles—it couldn't be more.
This Ford Super Duty comes around a bend in the road. Suddenly it’s flashing its headlights on and off.
It closes with us—then it’s honking on its horn.
It blows by. The driver shouting something out the window.
Something up ahead ; it must be.
Tennille pushed the shotgun barrel at me from the back seat of the crew cab—its muzzle digging hard against my ribs.
I met her eyes, in the rear-view.
“Don't even think about stopping.”
Ten more miles.
Only minutes left.
Ahead, what—a roadblock, some kind of checkpoint?
“You need money?”
She didn't answer.
“How come you had to take a look—inside that bag?”
I glanced again in the rear-view. Saw her eyes flick up, then away.
“This guy in Marfa. He has money...”
I could feel her—wound up, two feet apart, in the truck.
She says; “What makes you think I believe you?”
“How come the radio's putting out an alert? A guy with nothing?”
She didn't answer.
“Fifty thousand dollars.”
“Just drive. Jesus Christ.”
I searched the ground stretching from the edge of the highway. Flat scrub. Low hills in the distance. No cover in a hundred yards.
“You got nothing to lose,” I says. “You got a mind, you can turn me in, do whatever the hell you want.”
I felt the dryness in my throat. There was nowhere to run.
“You drive this truck into Alpine, or I'll shoot you dead.”
If I stopped the truck—then what?
It'd take something for her to pull the trigger. A space as small as that cab.
“You need money?”
“Shut up. I'm turning you in,” she says, “you hear me?”
“Get me to Marfa...”
“Shut your damn mouth.”
“All you got to do is get me there...”
“I swear to God. I'll pull this trigger. I'll blow you clean through the windshield.”
My heart's racing. Maybe this was it. A girl I never would've met, that I didn't know a thing about. My life in her hands.
I'd only known her hours; I tried to think back. Anything she'd said. Why'd she want to see inside the bag?
She had to know .
I thought of the ruined miner's house. The way she found me. She said something; accused me. Something. About a husband. Then again—at the house. What was the name? She'd said a name. Lee ? Leo ? “Leon...”
“What?”
Her eyes met mine in the mirror.
“You thought he sent me—you said so.”
We came up a rise in the road. The faintest outlines through the heat haze. Buildings, in the distance, outlying the town, up ahead.
“Whatever trouble you're in, fifty thousand maybe get you out of it.”
“ Christ ,” she shouts out.
“Up ahead, there's going to be cops. You know it. On the junction into town.”
My hands were wet against the steering wheel. Electricity at my skin.
Last chance.
Put it all on her.
If I stopped the truck, what would she do?
Pull the trigger? Choke?
If we went on, I knew it was over. If I stepped out—if I put it all on her.
To shoot a man dead on a highway.
Watch a shotgun blast rip him apart.
Blood flying, like a slaughterhouse. I'd seen it before, that kind of pressure. Could she raise the stock? Push it in her shoulder?
“You're holding...”
No answer.
“You make the choice. I'm going to stop. I'm getting out.”
“I'll shoot you dead...”
“I'm getting out, I'll cut the junction on the road. On foot. I'll meet you in there. In the town”
Nothing from the back of the cab.
“You give me ten minutes, I'm not there you call the cops.”
Nothing.
“Tell 'em what you want. That I forced you to give me a ride. That you were bringing me in—I broke out...”
I felt the shotgun.
She held it up, against my cheekbone.
I braced my body. Foot lifting from the throttle pedal.
“What are you
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