Already Gone (13 page)

I look down at my hands. They’re covered in blood. There’s blood on my clothes and in my hair. I can feel it on my skin and taste it in my mouth.

My heart is slamming against my ribs, and my legs are burning under me. Every instinct I have is telling me to run, but I can’t do it.

I take a step back from the blood, then see a dark shape duck behind one of the trees in front of me.

A shadow moving between shadows.

Coming closer.

I drop down next to Nolan’s body and try to focus. The wind is loud, but my breathing is louder. I hold it and listen for footsteps crossing the parking lot toward the car, but there’s nothing.

That scares me the most.

I feel something wet under me, and when I look down I notice I’m kneeling in Nolan’s blood. I start to get up, then stop and lean over and search his jacket pockets. I find his cigarettes and lighter, and I toss them aside and keep looking.

Eventually, my hand closes around a cold metal key ring. I pull it out, then step over him and climb into the driver’s seat of his car.

My hands are shaking, and it takes a minute for me to find the key. Every few seconds I look up and scan the park for movement, but all I see are trees and shadows.

When I find the right key, I start the engine, shift into drive, and hit the gas.

The car lurches forward.

I turn the wheel hard, spraying rocks and dirt into the air, then head toward the exit, fast. I clip the side of a tree, and the branches slap against the window. I yell and try to force myself to slow down, but I can’t.

The adrenaline makes it impossible.

Once I’m out of the park, I watch the mirrors to see if I’m being followed. I’m not, and the farther away I get from the park, the more I feel myself start to relax.

Out of habit, I turn south toward the university and home. After several blocks, I remember I’m covered in blood and driving a stolen police car.

Going home is a bad idea.

I pull off onto one of the side streets and park in an alley, away from any lights. I lean forward and rest my head against the steering wheel. My stomach is spinning, rising up into my throat. I swallow hard and try to push it back, but it doesn’t help.

I reach for the door handle and lean out.

Nothing comes up but bitter strings of spit.

I leave the door open, feeling the cold air on my skin, and try to figure out my next move. All I know is that I have to get off the street, but I can’t go home, and I definitely can’t go to the police.

That leaves one choice.

I feel my pulse radiating through my jaw and realize I’m clenching my teeth. I open my mouth slow, then lean my head back and stretch the tension away before pulling out of the alley and heading west, back to the warehouse district.

The gate is closed, so I park in the lot across the street and shut off the engine. I don’t get out of the car right away. Instead, I look up at the light coming through the second floor windows and think about what I’m going to say to Gabby. I’ll tell him the truth, but after our discussion earlier, I doubt he’ll believe me, and I’m sure he won’t be happy.

I cross the street to Gabby’s front door and press the black buzzer on the wall.

I wait.

No one answers, so I step back onto the sidewalk and look up at the windows on the second floor. The lights are still on, so he’s home. He has to be.

I press the buzzer again then knock, hard, and I keep knocking until I hear footsteps inside. When I don’t hear the latch, I knock again.

This time there’s a metal click and the door opens a few inches. I see half a face staring at me.

“Who the fuck are you?”

“Where’s Gabby?”

“I said, who the fuck are you?”

I start to tell him that I’ve had a shitty night and I’m not in the mood, but I figure that’s obvious from looking at me. Instead, I say, “Go get Gabby.”

At first I don’t think he’s going to move. Then the face disappears and the door swings open.

I step inside.

The face turns out to be one of the guys I saw in the basement when I came out of the elevator. He’s wearing the same shoulder holster, but this time the gun is in his hand, hanging at his side.

“You were here earlier.”

I tell him I was and that I need to talk to Gabby.

I tell him it’s important.

He looks at my face, then down at my shirt and says, “Is that your blood?”

“Some of it.”

He seems to think about this. Then he slides the gun back into the shoulder holster and says, “You know you don’t just show up over here like this.”

“I know,” I say. “Is he here?”

The kid motions to the stairs on the other side of the workshop. “Everyone is here. There’s been a lot of excitement tonight.”

I walk past him, through the workshop and up the stairs. I make it halfway before the door at the top opens and Gabby looks down at me.

“What happened to you?”

“Nolan.”

Gabby’s eyes go wide, and I can almost see the tension building inside him. I talk fast.

“He was in my house when I got home. He was waiting for me.”

I’m expecting him to explode, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t even look surprised.

“Where is he now?”

“Dead.”

This time, he is surprised.

He steps back from the door and looks down at his feet. When he comes back to me, he says, “Just tell me it wasn’t you.”

“It wasn’t me.”

I don’t think he’s convinced, so I start at the beginning. I tell him about finding Nolan in my house and him breaking my nose and driving me out to the park. I tell him what he said about the two men in the basement, how it was all an act, then about him unlocking the cuffs and letting me go. Finally, I tell him about the gunshot and seeing Nolan fall.

“You didn’t see who it was?”

“I saw a shadow, that’s it.”

Gabby looks at my nose, one side to the other, then he moves away from the door and lets me inside.

I walk into the hall. There are several people sitting in the living room. None of them look familiar. A few are talking, but they all stop when they see me.

I figure I must look pretty bad.

I ask Gabby, “What’s going on?”

He closes the door, says, “I want to hear everything Nolan said, especially about those two fucks we had in the basement.”

There’s an edge to his voice that I don’t like, and I wonder if I made the right decision coming back.

I tell him everything.

As I go over my conversation with Nolan, everyone in the other room is quiet. They’re all listening.

Gabby waits for me to finish then says, “An act?”

“He said they only told us what they wanted us to know, but I don’t believe it.”

Gabby is quiet for a moment. Then he waves toward the hallway and says, “Go get cleaned up. We’ll find you some clothes, then we’ll figure out what we’re going to do next.” He takes Nolan’s keys from my hand. “Did you park across the street?”

I nod.

Gabby tosses the keys to one of the men in the living room and says, “The lot across the street. Get it and pull it around back.”

The man turns and is gone.

“What’s going on?” I ask. “Who are all these people?”

“Friends,” Gabby says. “I asked for their help.”

“What happened?”

“Kevin’s missing. He left to drop those two friends of yours at the hospital and never came back. We’ve got people out looking for him, but I haven’t heard a word.”

I feel a pinprick of ice form in my chest.

It starts to grow.

Gabby looks at me. “Do you know anything else about those two? Anything you’re not telling me?”

“No,” I say. “Nothing.”

Gabby nods. “There are a lot of eyes out looking for Kevin. If he doesn’t show up soon, they’re going to start looking for your friends.” He stares at me. “If I bring them back here, they won’t leave.”

“I thought you wouldn’t cross that line anymore.”

“Yeah,” Gabby says. “Me too.”

I stand under the shower and let the water rinse the blood off my skin. It gathers red at my feet, then trails away toward the drain. I watch until it runs clear.

It takes a long time.

Eventually, I get out and wrap a towel around my waist. All my muscles feel weak, and my stomach is rolling. I lean against the sink until it passes, then reach up and wipe the steam from the mirror with my hand.

I stare at myself for a long time.

My nose is black and swollen. There are purple bruises on either side that spread like legs under my eyes. My nostrils are caked with dried blood, and when I try to breathe, I feel something loose rattle deep inside my head.

There’s no doubt my nose is broken.

Someone knocks at the door, and I open it.

Gabby is standing in the hall holding a pair of pants and a white T-shirt. He hands them to me. “These should fit, give them a try. When you’re ready, come out to the living room. We need to go over our plan.”

“Our plan?”

Gabby nods, then walks away.

I get dressed, then gather up my bloodstained clothes and carry them out to the living room. Everyone is gone except for Gabby who is leaning over the coffee table with a roll of tape, some gauze, and a pair of scissors.

The TV is playing the local news.

Gabby is tearing off strips of tape and lining them up along the edge of the table. When he sees me, he motions to the chair next to him and says, “Have a seat. Let me take a look at your nose.”

I hold up my bloodstained clothes. “What do you want me to do with these?”

“There’s a trash bag in the kitchen. Put them inside. We’ll worry about them later.” He pauses. “And grab that towel by the sink.”

I go into the kitchen and find the trash bag sitting on the counter. I put my clothes inside then tie the bag closed and set it in the corner. I can hear the news anchor’s voice on TV, bright and emotionless.

I grab the dishtowel by the sink then walk back to the living room and sit in the chair next to Gabby. “Are they saying anything?”

“Nothing important. It probably won’t make the news until tomorrow.” He picks up the scissors and cuts a long strip of gauze. “Lean forward a little.”

I do.

Gabby takes the towel and drapes it over my lap. Then he puts one hand behind my head and picks up a folded strip of gauze with the other. He holds the gauze over the bridge of my nose and feels along both sides of the break with his fingertips.

He doesn’t say a word.

I ask him what he’s doing, but he stays quiet.

I’m about to ask again when he squeezes my nose, hard.

The pain is blinding, and I hear something pop in the middle of my head. I make a sound deep in the back of my throat and try to pull away, but Gabby holds me in place and won’t let me move.

“Be still, goddamn it.”

My eyes are watering, and I can feel the blood running down my face and dripping onto the towel. I curse myself for not seeing this coming.

Gabby lets go of the back of my head, then reaches for one of the strips of tape on the table. He runs it across the top of the gauze and presses it tight. He uses another strip along the bottom and two more on the sides. Once they’re all in place, he sits back and examines his work.

“Looks good,” he says. “Couple months from now, no one will be able to tell it was ever broken.”

“You could’ve warned me.”

“Why, so it would’ve hurt less?”

“It’s the principle of it.”

Gabby shakes his head. “The principle.” He laughs to himself then reaches for his cigarettes on the table. He lights one and watches me through the swell of smoke.

My nose is throbbing under the bandage. I try to ignore the pain and move past it, but I can’t.

“Where did everyone go?”

Gabby takes a drag off his cigarette then reaches up and picks a piece of tobacco off his tongue. “Someone spotted the van. They found it parked down by the river.”

“Kevin?”

Gabby shakes his head. “No sign of him.”

I let some time pass, then say, “I never should’ve come to you.”

“Where else would you have gone?”

“That’s not what I mean. I shouldn’t have gotten you involved. I didn’t know who we were dealing with.”

“You still don’t,” he says. “But it doesn’t matter. I’ve always looked out for you, Jake. Always will. You know that.”

I don’t say anything.

“I’m going to lend you some clothes and a suitcase. You’ll sleep here tonight, and I’ll have someone drive you to the airport in the morning.”

“I’m not going to the airport, not anymore.”

“I need you to lie low until we know what’s happening around here. The best way to do that is to leave town.”

Gabby seems calm, but I still make an effort to keep the edge out of my voice as I speak. After everything that’s happened tonight, I know something bad is waiting just beneath the surface.

“No one saw me. The park was deserted.”

“Good,” Gabby says. “Then we can bring you back in a few days, once we’re sure. Besides, don’t you have business down there?”

I think about Lisa Bishop and say, “There was someone I wanted to talk to, but that was before. I can’t leave right now. I have to keep looking.”

“No. Too risky.”

I start to argue, but the pain in my nose stabs back into my head. Even if I wanted to argue, I don’t think I have the energy.

“Give it a few days. Go see her or don’t, I don’t care, just stay out of sight.” He takes a drag of his cigarette, then uses it to point at me. “Might be a good idea to pick up a few prepaid cell phones when you get there. I’ll give you a different number you can use to check in. Call me every day, then break the phone and throw it away.”

“What for?”

“So I can fill you in on what’s going on up here.” He watches me, frowns. “Do you understand?”

“Not really.”

“Then you’ll have to trust me.” Gabby leans forward and taps his cigarette over the ashtray. “Until I know what’s going on and who we’re dealing with, we all need to keep our heads down.” He looks at me. “Can you do that?”

I don’t want to admit it, but what he’s saying makes sense, especially after what happened tonight.

“I’ll lie low,” I say. “For now.”

“Good.” He takes another drag off the cigarette, then crushes it in the ashtray and stands up. “You’ll stay here tonight. There’s a guest room on the other side of the kitchen. Get some rest. I’ll wake you up early.”

I push myself up and start back to the guest room. I take a few steps, then look over at Gabby. “When they found the van, was there any sign of those two guys?”

“Nothing, but we’ll find them. It might not be as easy this time since they’ll be watching for us, but we’ll get them eventually. They’re out there somewhere.”

I head back to the bedroom.

They’re out there somewhere.

For some reason, this doesn’t make me feel better.

I walk into the guest room and close the door behind me. The room is warm and lit by two silver lights on either side of the bed. There is a desk against one wall and a small, three-drawer dresser with a large mirror along the other.

I sit at the foot of the bed and look at my face in the mirror. I don’t recognize my reflection, and I decide that’s not a bad thing. If I’m trying to lie low, I’ve got one hell of a disguise.

I stay there for a while, letting my mind wander until my thoughts turn black, then I stand up and get undressed. I set my clothes on top of the dresser, then pull back the sheets and slide into bed.

I think about the first time I slept under Gabby’s roof. I was twelve years old, scared to death. I remember Gabby handing me a cot and a wool blanket and telling me to set up in a room above the office. I did, and even though the air up there smelled like grease and the blanket was old and rough and scratched against my skin, I was happy to be there.

As much as Gabby terrified me, there were worse things out there for a kid. At least with him, I knew I was safe.

Now, almost fifteen years later, I wonder if much has changed. The cot and the wool blanket are gone, but as far as I can tell, that’s about it.

I reach over and shut off the lights.