The Outsider (James Bishop 4) (11 page)

‘That noise is getting worse,’ Strickland said. His voice came out shaky as he was rocked back and forth from the rough ride.

Bishop said nothing, but Strickland was right. Each time he turned the wheel that grinding noise recurred, a little louder than before. Whatever it was, it had started back at the house. Amazingly, three of the pneumatic tyres were still intact. The fourth had been shot out, though the polymer ring backup was working just fine so far. But something was damaged down there. Bishop had a feeling the undercarriage hadn’t been as well protected as Delaney had thought. And if it was the front axle shaft that was damaged, as he suspected, then it could likely snap at any time, especially on rough terrain like this.

On the plus side, there was very little traffic using this section of the Beltway up ahead. A coupe and a sedan were approaching from the right. Once they sped past, Bishop couldn’t see anything else approaching for at least half a mile in either direction.

The time was now.

He stamped on the accelerator and raced towards the highway up ahead. They climbed the slight incline and then they were driving across the almost empty four-lane highway. In less than a second they reached the other side and were back on rough desert again. Bishop kept them going in a northerly direction. Just over a mile north of the Beltway, he knew there were some old mining roads that ran parallel to the highway for another four miles. They weren’t much more than dirt tracks, but smoother than the terrain they were currently on. And four miles was four miles.

Bishop kept driving towards the mountains in the distance, avoiding sagebrush where he could, until he spotted the old mining road he was looking for. He veered right, joined the track and kept going east. Almost instantly the ride became a lot smoother. They weren’t being jostled about anymore. Bishop hoped there’d be less strain on the front axle too.

‘That’s
much
better,’ Strickland said. ‘So what happens now, Bishop?’

‘We keep heading north-east, staying parallel to US 93 as much as possible. We’ll travel alongside the old Union Pacific line for a few miles since it goes in the same direction and the terrain won’t be as rough. Then we’ll get on US 91 before joining up with the I-15. After that we make for the nearest decent-sized town and hole up for a couple of hours until the heat’s died down. Then we call the feds and get them to come pick us up.’

‘Sounds like a plan,’ Strickland said. ‘Hey, back at the house, what happened with Delaney? I didn’t see her. Did you?’

‘I saw her.’ Bishop said, unconsciously recalling those final few moments as her life seeped out of her. Despite their limited time in each other’s company she’d played a pretty significant role in his life, and he had a feeling he’d be reliving that scene for quite some time yet. ‘She didn’t make it. None of them made it.’

‘Shit. I liked Delaney. She was all right.’

‘Yes, she was.’

Less than half an hour later, they were heading along US 91 at a steady fifty. Bishop had stuck to the mining road for as long as possible. When that came to an end, it was more rough terrain until he saw the old railroad line and then he stayed close to that for another four miles. Then when that crossed paths with US 91, he’d transferred over to the old highway. It wasn’t used much anymore, just a few trucks or pick-ups every now and then, occasionally a sedan, which made it perfect. For a while anyway. They’d soon have to join up with I-15 if they wanted to keep in this direction, but that wasn’t for a few more miles.

Nobody was saying anything. Bishop watched the uneven landscape all around them as he drove. One minute it was rising hills to the left and sharp banks to the right. The next it was flat land, closely followed by deeply sloping ditches on both sides. Changeable was a good word for it. And always the ever-present telephone lines running alongside the road.

They were travelling along one of the flatter stretches when Barney said, ‘Hey, Dad? I don’t … I don’t feel too good.’ His voice sounded very faint.

‘Barn? Hey, what’s wrong?’

In the mirror, Bishop saw Strickland press a palm against his son’s forehead. Barney did look a lot paler.

‘Feel hot and dizzy,’ the boy said. ‘And sick. And … and I keep seeing black spots everywhere. I think … I think …’

Barney’s eyes closed and he simply fell back against the rear seat like a rag doll. Strickland held him up and gently patted the boy’s cheeks. ‘Barn? Hey, come on now, wake up. Don’t scare me like this, buddy. Barney?’

‘He’s fainted,’ Bishop said.

Strickland turned to him. ‘Huh? Fainted? From what?’

‘A combination of stress, fear and mild dehydration probably. He’s a tough kid, but he’s only twelve years old and he’s just survived a major assault by a team of heavily armed killers. That’s enough to wipe out most adults. I’m surprised he’s lasted this—’

At that moment the grating noise suddenly doubled in volume until it was almost deafening. At the same time a harsh vibration reverberated through Bishop’s feet and up into his legs. He tried jiggled the steering wheel but got hardly any response.

‘Uh-oh.’

‘What was
that
?’ Strickland yelled over the noise.

‘The front axle going,’ Bishop shouted back. He revved the engine a couple of times. He could hear the axle still spinning, but nothing was happening except the vehicle was slowing down. Already fifty miles per hour, and decreasing steadily.

‘All we’re doing now is grinding metal,’ he said. ‘I need to get this thing off the road while I can.’

Bishop stuck the gear into Neutral, switched off the engine and wrenched the wheel to the right as far as it would go. Gradually, the vehicle began to go in the direction he wanted, but it was a hard struggle. They left the road and entered the desert again. The vehicle was rapidly losing speed now. Forty miles an hour. Thirty. Twenty. Then they descended a mild incline before the landscape evened out again. After another forty feet the vehicle finally came to a complete stop. There was no cover at all, but with any luck the slight incline would mask it from casual road traffic.

‘That’s that, then,’ Strickland said. ‘Looks like we’re walking.’

Bishop unstrapped his belt and opened his door. ‘Without water, in the desert? I don’t think so. We have to try and hitch a ride if we can. And don’t try and wake Barney up anymore. We’ve got more chance of getting a lift if they see we’ve got a sick kid with us. Come on, let’s go.’

Bishop got out of the Toyota and checked his watch. 08.04. Still early, but it was already heating up. And no shade, either. For the boy’s sake, he hoped they wouldn’t have to wait around too long. He helped Strickland pull Barney out of the car, then waited as Strickland placed one hand under the boy’s back, another under his knees, and hefted him up. They headed back towards the road.

Bishop reached the roadside first and looked both ways and saw nothing. Not a thing in either direction. Just flat desert all around them, except for the mountains far off to the north. Strickland caught up after a few more seconds and found a spot a few feet away and gently sat the unconscious Barney down on the ground. He sat down too, and placed his arm round his son’s shoulders, positioning the boy’s head so it was resting against his chest.

‘Does he suffer from low blood pressure at all?’ Bishop asked.

‘Not that I know about. Why? Does that cause fainting?’

‘It can. Could be just something that runs in the family. You ever faint as a kid?’

Strickland frowned. ‘No, but I remember Carrie …’ He paused, then continued, ‘My wife once told me she sometimes had fainting spells when she was going through puberty.’

‘That’s probably it, then. That and everything else he’s gone through today has caused him to shut down. Right now his body’s busy transferring blood to the brain to raise the pressure back to its normal level again. He should be fine in another half-hour or so.’

‘Christ, I hope so. It tears me up seeing him like this.’

Bishop turned away and looked up at the clear azure sky. He was thinking through possible explanations for whoever might stop for them. He couldn’t risk the whole truth, but he needed something that would explain what the three of them were doing in the middle of nowhere. He decided to stick as close to reality as possible. That they’d been heading for Mesquite, twenty miles away to the east, when the axle on the vehicle suddenly went, forcing Bishop to park it over the rise back there. That they’d already been waiting an hour and the boy had simply fainted from dehydration.

‘I hear something,’ Strickland said.

So did Bishop. He turned to his left and saw nothing, then turned right and spotted a truck in the distance, heading in the direction from which they’d come. Towards Vegas. Which meant it was no good to them.

‘We’ll let this one go,’ he said.

It looked like a dump truck of some kind. It took about thirty seconds to reach them and it wasn’t slowing down, either. As it got closer Bishop saw a silhouette in the cabin look their way and then it was past them. As it sped off Bishop saw a vast heap of gravel in the rear open bed. Bishop kept watching as the vehicle slowly receded into the distance.

‘Here comes another one,’ Strickland said.

Bishop turned back again and peered off into the distance. Straight away he could see this one wasn’t a truck. It was a car. Dark in colour. And there was something else too.

Even though it was half a mile away, he could make out the light bar on the roof.

‘Hey, is that a cop car?’ Strickland asked, squinting at the vehicle in the distance.

‘Looks like Nevada Highway Patrol colours to me,’ Bishop said.

They were about to be arrested. There was no way to avoid it. Not if the troopers had been listening to their radio. And Bishop still had the .38 still in his pocket, as well as the extra speed loader, and the very last thing he needed was for the law to find him packing an unlicensed piece. He pulled both items from his pocket and threw the extra rounds into the desert far behind him. After wiping his prints off the .38 he lobbed it sixty or seventy feet towards the other side of the highway. He didn’t see where it landed. Somewhere amongst the sagebrush. But that was everything of his except for the Seiko watch.

They both watched as the cruiser gradually closed the distance. So far they were just three hitchhikers. Well, two. But once the cops pulled up and saw the bullet-ridden Toyota back there, things would turn serious, fast. The cruiser was still a hundred feet away from them when the LED lights on the roof started flashing red and blue simultaneously. So they’d spotted it already.

‘Don’t make any sudden moves,’ Bishop said. ‘These guys are expecting the worst so they’ll be on edge. Just do what they say, don’t wise off, and be cool.’

‘Way ahead of you,’ Strickland said.

Bishop stayed perfectly still as the patrol car came to a halt twenty feet away and two troopers in dark blue uniforms jumped out, one Caucasian, one Latino, both brandishing their service pistols in the standard Weaver stance. The Caucasian driver shouted, ‘All of you, face down on the ground.
Right now
.’

Bishop slowly lowered himself until he was lying on the ground with his left cheek pressing against the rough asphalt. He also saw Strickland gently lay Barney on his back before assuming the same position as Bishop. Meanwhile, the Latino cop was advancing towards them, still aiming his gun in their general direction.

‘That’s real good,’ he said. He sounded a little calmer than his partner at least. ‘Now place your hands behind your backs. Slowly.’ He frowned at the unmoving figure of Barney. ‘Hey, what’s wrong with the kid? What you do to him?’

‘Nothing,’ Bishop said, placing both hands behind him, wrists crossed. ‘He just fainted. That’s his father over there next to him.’

‘Yeah, sure. And you must be the kindly uncle.’ He called out, ‘Steve, keep me covered, okay?’

His partner by the car said, ‘I got you, Mateo.’

A moment later Bishop felt Trooper Mateo attach flex cuffs to both his wrists. Not too tight, but tight enough. Then hands expertly searched him from head to toe. Finding nothing, Mateo then stepped over to Strickland and went through the same routine. Bishop glanced over to the patrol car and saw Trooper Steve speaking into a mic. Calling dispatch, no doubt. Reporting their position and telling them what they’d just found.

Trooper Mateo shouted over to him, ‘They’re both clean. Hey, you wanna come and carry the kid? He’s out cold. They must have given him something.’

‘We didn’t give him anything,’ Strickland said, his voice rising. ‘This guy told you, he’s my son. He just—’

‘Wanna stay on my good side, pal?’ Mateo cut in. ‘Then just keep your mouth shut unless I ask you a direct question. That goes for both of you. Unless you wanna speed things up and tell me where you stashed your weapons.’

‘We’re the victims here,’ Bishop said, knowing it was useless. ‘You can see we’re both unarmed. Or do you think we somehow shot up that SUV back there ourselves?’

‘Don’t get smart with me, pal. Believe me, that’d be the absolute worst thing you could do right now. Now get up, the both of you.’

Bishop didn’t bother arguing. It was pointless. Instead, he rolled onto his side and pushed his right elbow against the ground to get himself into a sitting position. Then he leaned his body forward to balance himself and slowly got to his feet. When he looked up again, he saw Trooper Steve walking towards them. He’d already put the gun back in his side holster. Strickland was also standing a few feet away.

Trooper Steve said, ‘Dispatch said to search the SUV for weapons before heading back.’

‘Sure, right after we get these two tucked away.’ Trooper Mateo moved behind Bishop and nudged him forward towards the cruiser. ‘Let’s go.’

He and Strickland both moved off towards the patrol car with the trooper behind them. Bishop saw it was a regulation Crown Vic, but a slightly older model than usual. The vehicle was all black with gold markings. Once they reached it Trooper Mateo opened the rear door on the driver’s side and then moved back to cover them both. Bishop looked over the car roof and saw Trooper Steve crouching down to lift up Barney.