The Final Rule (11 page)

He took a right at the stop light.

“You sure you’re okay?” Ellis said.

“Yeah, why?”

“You’re acting funny.”

“I’m fine.”

Ellis turned in his seat. “Is there something back there I should know about?”

Jon forced himself to concentrate on the road. “It’s fine.”

“Why do I get the feeling you’re lying to me?” Ellis sat back.

“I saw Lenny’s truck.”

“What?” Ellis glanced over his shoulder again.

“Not now. Earlier, at the grocery store.”

“Why didn’t you say something?”

“I didn’t want to upset you.”

“You should have told me.”

Jon drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “I’m sorry. I just…I just didn’t want you to worry.”

A box truck pulled up behind them, blocking Jon’s view. Ellis gazed out the passenger window.

“Please don’t be angry.”

“I’m not angry, I’m just…frustrated.”

“About what?”

“You treating me like…” Ellis crossed his arms and uncrossed them. “You treat me like I’m the damsel in distress, you know that?”

“I do not treat you that way.”

Ellis laughed. “Yeah, you do.”

Jon concentrated on the road. How on earth could Ellis think that? He tried to go over the past several months and figure out what he’d done. The more he thought about it the more he had to admit he might have been overprotective. But he had his reasons. “I love you.”

“I know you do.”

“Then you have to understand I don’t…I mean…” He smacked the steering wheel. “You’re just not made to deal with the world.” Jon winced. “That didn’t come out right.”

“I’m not made to deal with the world?” If tone of voice could have cut, Jon would have been in pieces.

“Let me explain.”

“Are you sure you want to dig that hole any deeper?”

“No. But I need you to understand.” How did he say it? He couldn’t. At least not in a way that wouldn’t put him in a sleeping bag on the floor. Although as mad as Ellis was now, Jon had a feeling he was already doomed. “You’re too good of a person.”

Ellis clenched his jaw.

“You’re not tainted by the world. You have this softness about you.”

“So now I’m weak. That hole is getting deeper, Jon.”

“Softness is not the same as weakness. You’re kind and you care about people.”

“Mrs. Marsh is kind and cares about people.”

“She does. But not like you. I don’t know how to explain it. For a while I thought you were that way because you weren’t…”

“Weren’t what?”

“Please hear me out completely before you eviscerate me. Because what I’m going to say is going to make you really mad.”

“I’m already really mad.”

“Okay. Madder.” Jon turned onto the desolate highway. “For a long time I thought you were the way you are because you didn’t get a chance to grow up.”

“So now—”

“Wait.” Jon held up a hand. “I said wait. But I was wrong. It wasn’t because you didn’t get a chance to grow up. It was because you grew up over night. And you grew up without being tainted by all the shit most people go through. The things that make them cynical, bitter, and selfish. You’re completely open. What I see is really what you are. People just aren’t like that.”

“You are.”

Jon huffed a laugh. “I’m not. I learned to hide my feelings, school my thoughts, and pretend I was okay when I wasn’t. I learned to keep my guard up.”

“And you think I don’t?”

“I know you don’t. You love, Ellis. You completely love. No one does that. Everyone holds some small part of them in a safe place. Some piece they can protect, because if they let it go and things go sour, they have nothing. Most people are afraid when it comes to loving someone. You’re not.”

“There have been plenty of times when I’ve been afraid.”

“And yet you don’t hold back. That’s not fear. That’s remarkable bravery.”

Ellis went back to staring out the passenger window. “So this makes you think I need to be protected and sheltered and coddled.”

“No. It makes me think you need to be cherished. I know how special you are and the rest of the world doesn’t. And I don’t want to see you abused because most people don’t know how to appreciate something so beautiful.” Jon checked the rearview mirror. The box truck had its blinker on. It slowed to make a turn.

Ellis said, “I don’t, you know.”

“What?”

“I don’t need to be taken care of.”

“I know you don’t.”

“Then if you know, you need to let me deal with the ugly things in life just like everyone else.” Ellis sat up in his seat a little. “Jon.”

“I don’t mean—”

“Jon, behind us.”

The massive gray shape of Lenny’s pick up ate up the road, heading right for them.

Jon tightened his grip on the wheel. “You’re wearing your seatbelt, right?”

“Yes, but—”

The truck lunged forward, slamming the cattle pusher across its grill into the bumper. Jon turned the wheel to keep the car from fishtailing.

The truck backed off, then came at them again.

“Hang on.” Jon jerked the steering wheel to the left, tossing the rear around and sending them into the opposite lane. He stomped the gas and the RPMs shot into the red. A high-pitched whine came from the engine. Jon prayed it wouldn’t blow. It took Lenny longer to change direction, but when he did, he made up for lost time with speed.

“He’s gaining,” Ellis said.

“I know.”

“He’s going to hit us.”

“I know. I know.” Jon would never be able to out run the truck. His only hope was to out maneuver it. Even then, the engine on the car just didn’t have the kind of power Jon needed to get them out of harm’s way. Jon made another U-turn. The back tires screamed against the asphalt and a wave of blue smoke rode away on a breeze. “Where does that road go?”

“Which one?”

“Up there by the barn.” It was the only paved road Jon had seen for miles.

“I’m not sure.”

“Think, Ellis. Is it a dead end or does it dump out somewhere on a main road?”

“I’m pretty sure it comes back around to the highway.”

“How sure?” If they got boxed in, there would be no way out. The car wasn’t made for off road driving. The first dip in the ground would take out the oil pan.

“Pretty sure.”

“How sure is pretty sure, Ellis?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know.” A deep roar vibrated the air. Ellis turned in his seat. “Oh shit.”

That was all Jon needed to take the risk. Jon cut the wheel to the right. Lenny tried to make the turn but the heavy truck couldn’t stop fast enough. The back tires chugged against the road, hit the shoulder, and dropped into the ditch. Wet ground and grass churned under his spinning wheels.

Ellis smacked the armrest. “Yes.”

“Don’t get happy yet.”

“He’s in a ditch.”

“He’s also got four-wheel drive. The ground is wet, but as soon as he gets traction he’ll be on us again.” On them, pissed off, and twice as dangerous. Jon took the tight turns at full speed. The back tires left black stains trailing behind them. He
guesstimated
the time it would take for Lenny to get the truck out. If the ground was soft enough, even with four-wheel drive, he might not get out.

Ellis turned in his seat. “Still clear.”

The woods blurred past the windows. Occasionally, a house or side road would create a gap in the line of trees.

“Maybe he gave up.”

“I don’t think so. He’s back there somewhere.”

They went another two miles. Ellis looked again. “Still no sign of him.”

Up ahead was a four-way stop. Jon slowed down.

He heard the roar before he saw the truck. It lunged from the side road right for them. The driver’s side door collapsed at impact and the car went airborne.

Bags of clothes, shoes, groceries, tumbled around them. Ellis yelled but his words were drowned out by screaming metal.

The car slammed into the ground. A high pitched ringing exploded in Jon’s ears. Glass shattered, the roof shredded, and dirt rushed through the gaps, snuffing out the light.

Liquid slapped Jon’s cheek. The scent of copper and oil saturated the air.

Then everything stopped.

The car engine chugged a few times then went quiet.

Jon coughed. The sound was too loud in the smoke clogged air. He reached out and bumped the dash, found the steering wheel, the crumpled door, but there was only empty air to his right.

“Ellis?” Jon struggled with his seat belt. “Ellis, talk to me.” A soft moan was his only answer. “C’mon, baby. Let me know you’re all right.” Jon’s fingers brushed hair, but it was below him, not to his right where the passenger seat was. “Ellis?” The unfastened seatbelt lock knocked against Jon’s wrist.

His slick fingers slid off his belt release. He wiped his hand on his shirt and tried again. There was a click.

Jon’s shoulder hit a fold in the crumpled roof and his knee knocked the steering wheel. The grinding pain raked his nerves with serrated teeth.

“Fuck.”

He turned but a piece of plastic or maybe part of the seat blocked his legs. He kicked it out of the way and slid the rest of the way from his seat.

“Ellis?”

Jon slid his hand over the layer of wet dirt. Something sharp pricked his fingers, then something slick and cold stuck to his skin.

“Ellis, God, Ellis.”

He’d been here, right here. Jon found Ellis’s hand. Was he alive? Jon followed Ellis’s arm to his head. A warm exhale caressed the back of Jon’s hand.

Relief burst from Jon’s chest in the form of a sob.

“C’mon baby, talk to me.” Jon tried to pull Ellis closer and he cried out. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He petted Ellis’s face. His cheeks were sticky.

Ellis coughed. “Jon?”

“Right here baby, right here.”

There was a shuffling sound. “I’m stuck.”

Jon found a gap in the metal. “I’m gonna try and get you loose, okay?” He felt his way down Ellis’s leg to the wad of plastic cinching his ankle.

“Jon?”

“Still here. Right here.” Jon dug through the barrier. He touched the tattered cuff of Ellis’s pants plastered to his bare foot. “Ellis?”

He whimpered.

“I’m gonna try and move your foot, okay? I need you to help me. You with me, sweetheart? I need you to help me turn your foot.”

“Ok.”

Jon pushed Ellis’s heel and he cried out. “Stop…stop, it hurts.”

“I know, baby. I know. I’m sorry. It’s just for a few seconds.” Jon tried again.

“No, no, stop. Jon, stop, please, stop.”

“I have to get you out of here.” He tugged and Ellis screamed.

Jon let go.

“I’m sorry.” A sob butchered Ellis’s words. “I’m sorry…it hurts.”

“It’s okay. Shh—it’s okay.” Jon’s hands trembled as he petted Ellis’s neck. “I’ve got to go get some help.” He pressed his lips to Ellis’s forehead. “I’ll be right back. I promise I’ll be right back.”

“Jon?” Ellis’s hand brushed against Jon’s. He held it and Ellis’s fingers tightened.

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“Hurry.”

“I will.” The fear Jon had corralled broke free. “I’ll be right back.” Tears burn a path down his cheeks. “Okay. I’ll be right back.” He kissed Ellis again. “I love you. I love you and I’ll be right back.” Ellis squeezed his hand.

Jon crawled on his elbows to the back of the car. Wet soil pushed a chill into his bones. A paper bag crinkled under his fingers; he pushed it aside. Light trickled in through the crumpled rear window, blinding him.

Jon scraped away the dirt, clogging the opening. The clumps of grass gave way to mud, then water.

“Jon?”

“I’m hurrying, sweetheart. Just a few more minutes.” There were a good number of houses on this road. If he could just get to a phone, he could call for help. The smoke thinned in the cab, but there was no way to know for sure if anything was on fire. A combination of gas, radiator fluid and oil permeated the air. Knowing it could ignite made him dig faster.

Jon pushed back the growing pile of mud to keep it from sliding back into the trench. His burning fingertips numbed.

He reached the outline of the window frame. Unable to dig any deeper, Jon flattened against the ground, stretched his arms out in front of him and pushed with his feet.

He got one shoulder through but caught the other one on the window frame. Jon braced an elbow against the metal for leverage. With each inch, twisted metal bit into his flesh.

He gritted his teeth against the fire growing in his trapped arm.

The mud shifted and his arm slid. Then the side of the hole collapsed.

A wave of cold water punched Jon in the chest, knocking the air from his lungs. Sludge filled his nose and washed into his mouth. He tried to back out of the gap but the mud swallowed his free arm to his elbows.

Jon kicked at his heel with one foot until his shoe came off the other. He dug his toes into the earth and pushed again with everything he had. Fragments of glass sliced, burning lines down his spine, and the crumpled frame squeezed the remaining air from his lungs.

His torso slid one inch, then another. His face breeched the surface of the water. He barely got enough air to blow the mud from his nose.

The lid of the trunk had been torn loose in the impact. He grabbed the edge. Bright red drops seeped from between his fingers and landed on blades of grass. Jon pulled until the muscles in his arm quivered and his tendons screamed.

He sucked in to condense his chest and everything darkened.

All at once he popped through the opening and slid forward though the mud.

His gasps for air chased away the spots dancing in front of his eyes. He rolled over and was about to get to his knees when something cool and hard pressed against the side of his head. A pair of cowboy boots stepped in front of him.

“Glad to see you made it, Mr. Marshal. Now you and me can go for a little ride.”

“Wake up, Ellis.”

The demand echoed through the darkness.

“You gotta wake up.”

But Ellis was so tired. His leg and shoulder ached from where he’d slept wrong.

“Wake up, Ellis. It’s time to wake up. You gotta make the oatmeal.”

Ellis nodded. He had to make the oatmeal or Rudy might try to do it himself and burn up the new microwave. “Okay, okay.” Ellis tried to sit up. The blankets tangled around his leg refused to let go.