Isle of Dogs (43 page)

“Get us out of here!” Smoke ordered Andy. “Now! Take us to Tangier Island! And don’t you say anything I can’t hear in the back!”

 Macovich spotted the white minivan with the rainbow bumper sticker two cars ahead, and he recalled the rainbow sticker on Hooter’s tollbooth. Just as Hooter entered his mind, he realized with surprise that she was sitting in the front passenger’s seat of the minivan and turning around to talk to people in back, none of whom Macovich could see.

“Wooo, girl, what’s going on here?” Macovich muttered to himself as he noted that the minivan was driving a bit erratically, slowing down and speeding up, swerving and trying to switch lanes to pass.

Macovich flipped on the specially equipped limousine’s blue grill lights and got on the bumper in front of him, forcing the motorist to pull off on the shoulder. He did the same thing to the next car, and was now on the minivan’s rear, his emergency lights strobing.

“What’s going on?” Regina asked as she tried a few pats of the face powder Barbie had given to her.

“I’m just trying to get us through all this traffic,” Macovich said as he managed to nudge into the left lane and get parallel to the minivan.

He started waving at Hooter, trying to get her attention, and when she finally looked over and saw him, after Barbie
brought him and the limousine to her attention, Hooter made a face of distress and mouthed
help!

“Shit!” Macovich said, because he was not allowed to make traffic stops or get involved in incidents while he was driving the governor.

He shrugged, as if to tell Hooter there was nothing he could do. He pointed toward the back of the limousine and drew a box in the air to indicate he was carrying The Package. Hooter rolled her eyes and mouthed
help!
again as she pointed to the back of the minivan and held up six fingers and then wiggled two fingers to suggest six people running. Macovich frowned and wondered what she was trying to say.
Six passengers in back who were running?
Wooo, he thought. Didn’t six inmates just break out of jail not too far from here, and if normal, innocent people were in back of the van, then why were they ducking out of sight?

Macovich got on his radio and called for backup units while he motioned for Hooter to get her ditzy-looking driver to somehow pull off the road.

G
IRLFRIEND
,”
Hooter said loudly to Barbie. “I is so sorry, but I got to use the lady’s room, and I mean
got to.
”

“Forget it!” Cat’s urgent voice drifted up from the floor in back. “We’re not stopping until we get outta all this traffic and to some place where there ain’t no police!”

“Let me tell you something,” Hooter tossed over the seat, “when a lady say she gotta stop, then she gotta stop, you understand what I’m saying? Didn’t your mama raise you right, huh? Didn’t she teach you nothing about ladies and their monthly spells, and how a lady can be riding along minding her own business when all a sudden, she feels her fertility waking up when it wasn’t expected for two more days?”

The men on the floor in back fell silent.

“So, girlfriend, you just pull over right up there at the Hess station and I’ll run in. I’ll be quick, but I sure hope I ain’t gonna get the cramps. Oh Lord, please don’t let me get the cramps.”

Barbie was so concerned she momentarily forgot the
inmates inside her minivan. Barbie had suffered terribly from cramps when she was younger, and she understood completely how unbearable and debilitating they could be. She flipped on her right turn signal and reached over to pat Hooter’s arm.

“Just drive!” Trader ordered.

“Do you have any Midol?” Barbie asked Hooter.

“Uh-uh, ohhhh,” Hooter replied with a groan as she held her belly. “Ohhhh! I didn’t bring nothing ’cause I wasn’t expecting my periot. Ohhhhhh! Lord, why this have to happen on today of all days?”

“I am very sorry,” Reverend Justice said with feeling as he inhaled a mouthful of dust from the carpeted floor and shoved Cat’s foot out of his face. “I’ll pray that the Good Lord deliver you from The Cramps. Dear Lord”—he sneezed twice—“please deliver this woman, your servant, from The Cramps. I claim your powers of healing in the name of Je-sus!”

“Ohhhhhh,” Hooter moaned louder as the minivan crept ahead in the barely moving gridlock of race fans, all of whom were getting out of sorts and worrying about missing the start of the race, when the pace car would roar out onto the track and Air Force F-16s would fly over in formation.

“All right, okay, all right,” Slim Jim’s voice sounded, and if there was one thing he couldn’t stand, it was hearing a woman with The Cramps and then having to brace himself for the rotten moods and mean-ass behavior that were sure to follow. “Pull over and you make it quick and don’t talk to nobody or do nothing to ’tract attention!”

M
ACOVICH
was intently watching Hooter as he drove beside her. Clearly, she had been injured and needed to be rushed to the hospital, and Macovich was beginning to panic. How did he know one of the inmates hadn’t stabbed her with a shank and she was bleeding to death right before his eyes?

“Sir, excuse me,” Moses raised his voice to the governor.

“What?” the governor asked, waking up.

“That little horse’s got his hoof on my foot and I can’t move
it,” Moses said, trying not to cause an inconvenience, but he feared his foot might be broken and he was in terrible pain.

Regina tried to remember where she’d put her list of commands and realized she had left it at the mansion. She knew there was a command for picking up a hoof, and she searched her memory. What was it?

“Closer,” she said to Trip.

Trip responded by moving a foot closer to his handler, who in this case, was the governor.

“Ahhhh!” Moses yelled when the minihorse knocked against the cast on his arm and then stepped on his other foot. “I don’t mean to complain, but I’m getting as banged up back here as I was at the hospital!”

“Right!” Regina began to panic and all of the commands she had glanced at tumbled together in her head. “I’m sorry.”

Trip turned right and banged Moses’s bandaged head against the window. He screamed and begged for someone to let him out of the car.

“I’ll just get me a cab and go on home to bed,” he said as he tried to push the minihorse away.

“Can you pull over?” Regina yelled to Macovich as she tugged on her denim skirt, which was a bit snug and tended to creep up her enormous thighs. “Mister Custer’s not feeling well and needs to go!”

“Needs to go where?” Macovich said as he crept along with the minivan.

“Back,” Regina shouted, and Trip stepped back and rested all of his weight on both of Moses’s feet this time.

“Ayyyyyyy!” he shrieked.

“Ohhhhhh,” Hooter moaned as Barbie finally, at long last, turned into the Hess station, and the governor’s motorcade pulled in right behind her.

Other race fans who also had decided to take advantage of a pit stop stared in amazement at the lead limousine with flashing blue lights and the other three black stretches that followed. Shiny black doors opened and the governor, a fat girl with awful hair and bizarre taste in clothes, and what looked like a hospital patient, in addition to a tiny red horse, and plainclothes drivers who had guns under their jackets, and the rest of the First Family, climbed out to get a little fresh air.

The governor grabbed Trip’s harness and took a few uncertain steps as Macovich rushed toward the minivan just as Hooter climbed out and began to wave her arms and yell.

“We’ve been abducted by convicts!” she shouted, and immediately, every NASCAR fan who had stopped to buy beer, and relieve himself from beer already consumed, began to cheer.

Slim Jim, Stick, Cruz Morales, Trader, Cat, and the reverend boiled out from the back floor and scattered. Two of them were tackled by Bubba Loving. Macovich snatched Cruz and Stick up by the backs of their shirts, and Cat zigzagged and dodged and ran straight at the governor, whom he intended to hold hostage. Regina, remembering that she was still a police intern, decided it was up to her to control the situation and yelled at Trip, “Sic him!”

The minihorse was unfamiliar with the command and did nothing as Cat ran past, and the governor squinted about in confusion and patted for his magnifying glass. Regina, who as a child had annoyed and injured mansion staff and family by butting them in tender places, lowered her NASCOIFED helmet-head and pawed the ground with her red patent-leather high tops, building up steam as she suffered a violent atavistic throwback to her primitive programming. She rushed the inmate and butted him in the groin, knocking him off his feet and sending him sailing through the air and body-slamming into Trader. Then she pounced on both of them, sprawled across their chests, and hollered as she banged their heads together and strangled them. Hooter hurried over to assist, while cheering NASCAR fans encouraged the fat girl to
slam into them again
and
stomp their pedals to the metal
and
blow their asses off the track.

S
MOKE
continued to bump Andy’s head with the pistol and threaten to kill Popeye if Andy and Hammer didn’t do exactly as they were told.

“I know you got guns, so hand them back here,” Smoke ordered over his mike.

Just fly the helicopter,
Andy told himself.

“Hand them back here now!” Smoke’s cruel voice sounded in Andy’s headset.

“I’m flying,” Andy replied. “It takes both hands and feet to fly and I’m not about to start rooting around for any alleged weapons until we’re on the ground.”

“I don’t have a weapon,” Hammer answered as she wondered if she dared turn around and shoot Smoke with the nine-millimeter pistol inside her Harley purse.

She supposed this was not a good idea. Nailing Smoke wasn’t the problem at such close range, but if he happened to fire his gun because she’d fired hers, then Andy might be wounded or killed and it would be up to her to fly and she didn’t know how. Not to mention, if her bullet passed through Smoke and penetrated the helicopter, severe damage might be the result and they could crash. She looked out at the dark waters of the James River as it opened up into the mouth of the Chesapeake Bay and remembered her fear of drowning.

“Sit back and shut up,” she told Smoke in the severe tone she reserved for suspects. “We’re over the bay now and the last thing you want is for us to lose control of the helicopter. If we go down, everybody drowns. You’ll be trapped inside, beating on the doors, trying desperately to open them, but you won’t be able to because of the vacuum. So you’ll struggle in the frigid pitch dark as water fills the cabin and you’ll die slowly.”

“Chill,” Cuda begged Smoke. “Just chill, man. I don’t want to drown!”

Possum kept Popeye snugly wrapped in the flag and hugged her hard. Smoke sat back in the seat, playing with the syringe while Unique stared weirdly at Trooper Truth’s neck, a box cutter wrapped so tightly in her delicate hand that her nails had pierced her palm and drawn blood. She felt no pain, only the blast of heat and intense frequencies and vibrations rolling up from her Darkness.

Andy checked a flight chart and entered Patuxent’s frequency on the radio, and minutes later raised the military tower on the air. “Helicopter zero-one-one-Delta-Bravo,” Andy said over the radio.

“One-Delta-Bravo,” the tower came back.

“Are restricted areas six-six-oh-niner and four-zero-zero-six hot?” Andy inquired.

“Negative.”

“Permission to transition through them at one thousand, en route to Tangier Island,” Andy said.

“Permission denied.” The tower said exactly what Andy thought it would.

“Roger,” Andy said as he entered code 7500, for hijacking, into the transponder and then gave Hammer a thumbs-up.

He was going to transition through the restricted areas anyway, and now that Patuxent had him on their radar and knew his tail number and realized there were hijackers on board, the military would respond. He pulled in more torque and was grateful for a tailwind that propelled them along at a ground speed of one hundred and seventy knots, and fifteen minutes later they entered Patuxent’s airspace.

Andy took a deep breath and switched the 430 over to automatic pilot. Smoke had no way of realizing that Andy’s hands and feet were now free, and Andy slowly reached down and slipped the pistol out of his ankle holster. Following his lead, Hammer withdrew the nine-millimeter from her bag, and both of them tucked the guns under their legs so Smoke wouldn’t see what was happening should he climb back up on his seat and glare into the cockpit again.