Thin Luck

Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Kansas - Section 21-3761

Trespass on Railroad Property

THE TALK IN the car was incessant, but I had no idea what was being discussed.

I asked again, "Where are you taking me?"

"We are going to find the chiva, Mary," the barbed wire tattoo man said in rough English.

"You are smart, Mary. Although," he made a noise like he was thinking very hard, "You don't look like this, Mary." He held up the identification card for the millionaire. I didn't have the chance to look at the card before now. I was surprised by the woman's youthful look compared to how she was at the hotel, shriveled and old at the bar. How long had she been living in the hotel? How much smoking and drinking excessively do you have to do to age that quickly?

"You are a thief. Just like Tony. Just like his aunts." The barbed wire tattoo man shot a look over to Tony, and he looked down.

"I'm not a thief. I just..." I tried to think of a way of defending myself, but I was a thief, and a liar.

"You just steal things? That's what a thief does." He smirked through the reflection in the rearview mirror. "That is okay. I need something stolen. And our usual girl is..." his fingers spread apart like something in them popped out and disappeared like magic. "Well, lets just say she won't be found for a while."

I swallowed.

I could see his eyes smiling in the rear view mirror. "We'll find my cousins and you will steal the chiva back for us."

"Your cousins?" I asked, but the reply was only a harsh stare.

Even though my panic meter was already pegged, my heart stuttered when I saw the signs for the airport. My hands were clammy. Sweat pooled under my arms. I started to hyperventilate, but then my cycle of panic was interrupted with a dash of reality. They wouldn't be able to put me on a plane. They wouldn't be able to get me past security. I didn't care about the police anymore; I'd go back to prison before getting on a plane. At least they didn't throw me off a bridge, yet, or leave me to die in the burning house. In prison I would live. Nothing I'd done would put me on death row. The fat man lived, the millionaire was recovering-maybe even in rehab-and the kid was likely on his way to his parents. Why else would he be so happy to see these goons? I would call for help as soon as we arrived at the airport. I might even be able to convince the state that Nick was a bad father before they put me away. I could see Kyle again.

My breathing slowed when they didn't pull over at the sign for the terminal. They didn't even stop at the airport, they continued on. The barbed wire tattoo man said something sternly, but almost in a whisper.

Tony cried out, "No!"

The man with the mole looked into my eyes, then closed his eyes, made the sign of the cross, whispered a prayer to himself, and pulled back his arm. Tony's scream echoed through the pain and darkness and into my dreams.

We were stopped somewhere when I woke up. My head was throbbing. My throat was dry. My eyes blurred open. The sun screamed through the windshield, boring into my retina. Through the pain and the brightness I saw that I was alone in the car. I peeked out the window. We were at a gas station. I saw Tony's head bobbing up one of the aisles. The barbed wire tattoo man stood at the counter to pay, but I didn't see the other goon, the arsonist.

I pulled open the car door just wide enough for my body to slither to the ground. I left the door open so I didn't make any noise to attract attention. I crouched down behind the window and then scrambled over to the side of the building. I peeped around the side of the building, but I heard a man shout out behind me. When I turned around the arsonist was less than twenty feet away, walking in my direction while adjusting his pants. I took off running.