Authors: Andrew Vachss
J.C. and Gus ran across the road to the hearse. They jumped in the back and
slammed the door behind them.
“Go!” J.C. said to me.
I creeped forward until I was sure it was clear. Then I nailed the gas and
we swung out onto the road, heading for the quarry.
It was exactly 1.3
miles away; I had checked it a dozen times. But I’d also sprayed my
“X” on a big rock just ahead of it, just to be sure.
When I
saw the “X,” I hit the brakes to let the rear tires take a set, and
spun the wheel to the right. The hearse slid right into the spot where we were
supposed to get out and start pushing it.
“Let’s
move!” J.C. said.
I closed my eyes for a split second. I could
see the black car from my dream, coming for me out of the night.
I
stomped the gas. The hearse shot forward.
“What the fuck are
you—!?” Gus yelled. I could hear him, clawing his way over the
bodies to get to me.
I knew it was less than a hundred yards to the
edge. I yanked on the cable I had connected to the gas pedal, locking it in
place.
The hearse charged into the dark, eating up ground. I was
counting to four in my head.
“
Eddie!”
J.C. screamed.
I felt Gus’s hands grabbing for me. I leaned way
forward, shoved open the suicide door and dived out. Just like in Vonda’s
movie.
The back of the hearse flashed past my eyes. The ground came up
and smashed me. I thought I was paralyzed for a minute—I couldn’t
get any breath, but my eyes were wide open.
The hearse went over the
edge, engine roaring. I saw the taillights blink red, once.
Breath
came into me. I got up, slow. My teeth had gone into my lip, and I was bleeding
a little. My left ankle wouldn’t take too much weight. But I was okay.
Nothing broken.
I looked up and saw I was really close to the edge. I
crawled the rest of the way, moving careful because it was so dark.
Just as I looked down, I heard the explosion.
Gus had been right.
The blackness below lit up in a giant fireball.
I
limped back to the
road, feeling a little more strength in the ankle. Then I started back to where
we left the truck, cutting through the woods. It was much shorter that way. I
knew, because I had practiced.
The truck started right up. I drove
the load of money back to the cabin over the back roads. It took a long time,
but I kept myself from doing anything stupid.
I
did three wide loops
around where the cabin was, but nobody was following me. Finally, I drove up
and put the truck in the barn. I sat there a minute, listening.
Nothing.
I opened the Thunderbird’s trunk. I could see that
all the sacks of money from the truck wouldn’t fit; we would have to
leave some of it. But that was okay; we’d still have enough to last
forever.
I limped over to the cabin, sadness and pride swirling
together in my chest.
There was only one little light on, in the front
window.
I went up the steps and opened the door. Vonda was sitting at
the kitchen table. “Eddie,” she said.
There was someone
over in the corner, standing in a shadow. When he moved, I could see he had a
pistol in his hand.
Vonda turned and looked over at him. That’s
when I knew who he was.
Monty.
Her getaway
man.
A NOTE ABOUT THE AUTHOR
A
NDREW
V
ACHSS
has been a federal
investigator in sexually transmitted diseases, a social services caseworker,
and a labor organizer, and has directed a maximum-security prison for violent
youth. Now a lawyer in private practice, he represents children and youths
exclusively. He is the author of numerous novels, including the Burke series,
two collections of short stories, and a wide variety of other material,
including song lyrics, poetry, graphic novels, and a “children’s
book for adults.” His books have been translated into twenty languages,
and his work has appeared in
Parade, Antaeus, Playboy, Esquire, The New
York Times,
and numerous other forums. He lives and works in New York
City, his native home, and the Pacific Northwest.
The dedicated Web
site for Vachss and his work is
www.vachss.com
ALSO BY ANDREW VACHSS
Flood
Strega
Blue Belle
Hard Candy
Blossom
Sacrifice
Shella
Down in the Zero
Born Bad
Footsteps of the Hawk
False Allegations
Safe House
Choice of Evil
Everybody Pays
Dead and Gone
Pain Management
Only Child
A Vintage Crime/Black Lizard
Original, February 2003
Copyright
©
2003 by Andrew Vachss
All
rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright
Conventions. Published in the United States by Vintage Books, a division
of Random House, Inc., New York, and simultaneously in Canada by
Random House of Canada Limited, Toronto.
Vintage is a registered trademark and Vintage Crime/Black Lizard
and
colophon are trademarks of Random House, Inc.
This
book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places,
and incidents either
are the products of the author’s imagination
or are used
fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons,
living or dead,
events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Library
of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Vachss, Andrew H.
The getaway man / Andrew Vachss.
p. cm.—(Vintage crime/Black Lizard)
ISBN
1-4000-7511-4
1. Criminals—Fiction. I.
Title. II. Series.
PS3572.A33 G48 2002
813'.54—dc21 2002028885
v1.0
The Getaway Man
Andrew Vachss
Trade
OEB
2003-2-24
English