璇玑之心刃·冷血悍将-第114部分

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ng　on。　His　braking　maneuver　was　covered　and　nearly　matched　by　the　Roadrunner；　which　then　mimicked　his　turn；　also　bouncing　over　the　crumbling　cement　of　an　eradicated　neighborhood；　following　the　Scout　across　what　had　recently　been　a　block　of　homes；　falling　right　into　the　trap　Kelly　had　sprung。　The　Roadrunner　made　it　about　seventy　feet。
Kelly　had　already　downshifted。　The　mud　was　a　good　eight　inches　deep；　and　there　was　the　off…chance　that　the　Scout　might　get　stuck　momentarily；　but　the　odds　were　heavily　against　that。　He　felt　his　car　slow；　felt　the　tires　sink　a　few　inches　into　the　gooey　surface；　but　then　the　big；　coarsely　treaded　tires　bit　and　started　pulling　again。　Yeah。　Only　then　did　he　turn　around。
The　headlights　told　the　story。　The　Roadrunner；　already　low…slung　for　cornering　paved　city　streets；　yawed　wildly　to　the　left　as　its　tires　spun　on　the　gelatinous　surface；　and　when　the　vehicle　slowed；　their　spinning　merely　dug　wet　holes。　The　headlights　sank　rapidly　as　the　car‘s　powerful　engine　merely　excavated　its　own　grave。　Steam　rose　instantly　when　the　hot　engine　block　boiled　off　some　standing　water。
The　race　was　over。
Three　men　got　out　of　the　car　and　just　stood　there；　unfortable　to　have　mud　on　their　shiny　punk　shoes；　looking　at　the　way　their　once…clean　car　sat　in　the　mud　like　a　weary　sow　hog。　Whatever　nasty　plans　they‘d　had；　had　been　done　in　by　a　little　rain　and　dirt。　Nice　to　know　I　haven‘t　lost　it　yet；　Kelly　thought。
Then　they　looked　up　to　where　he　was；　thirty　yards　away。
‘You　dummies！‘　he　called　through　the　light　rain。　‘See　ya　‘round；　assholes！‘　He　started　moving　again；　careful；　of　course；　to　keep　his　eyes　on　them。　That‘s　what　had　won　him　the　race；　Kelly　told　himself。　Caution；　brains；　experience。　Guts；　too；　but　Kelly　dismissed　that　thought　after　allowing　himself　just　the　tiniest　peek　at　it。　Just　a　little　one。　He　nursed　the　Scout　back　onto　a　strip　of　pavement；　upshifted；　and　drove　off；　listening　to　the　little　clods　of　mud　thrown　by　his　tires　into　the　wheel　wells。
‘You　can　get　up　now；　Pam。　We　won‘t　be　seeing　them　for　a　while。‘
Pam　did　that；　looking　back　to　see　Billy　and　his　Roadrunner。　The　sight　of　him　so　close　made　her　face　go　pale　again。　‘What　did　you　do？‘
‘I　just　let　them　chase　me　into　a　place　that　I　selected；‘　Kelly　explained。　‘That‘s　a　nice　car　for　running　the　street；　but　not　so　good　for　dirt。‘
Pam　smiled　for　him；　showing　bravery　she　didn‘t　feel　at　the　moment；　but　pleting　the　story　just　as　Kelly　would　have　told　it　to　a　friend。　He　checked　his　watch。　Another　hour　or　so　until　shift　change　at　the　police　station。　Billy　and　his　friends　would　be　stuck　there　for　a　long　time。　The　smart　move　was　to　find　a　quiet　place　to　wait。　Besides；　Pam　looked　like　she　needed　a　little　calming　down。　He　drove　for　a　little　while；　then；　finding　an　area　with　no　major　street　activity；　he　parked。
‘How　are　you　feeling？‘　he　asked。
‘That　was　scary；‘　she　replied；　looking　down　and　shaking　badly。
‘Look；　we　can　go　right　back　to　the　boat　and　…‘
‘No！　Billy　raped　me。。。　and　killed　Helen。　If　I　don‘t　stop　him；　he‘ll　just　keep　doing　it　to　people　I　know。‘　The　words　were　as　much　to　persuade　herself　as　him；　Kelly　knew。　He‘d　seen　it　before。　It　was　courage；　and　it　went　part　and　parcel　with　fear。　It　was　the　thing　that　drove　people　to　acplish　missions；　and　also　the　thing　that　selected　those　missions　for　them。　She‘d　seen　the　darkness；　and　finding　the　light；　she　had　to　extend　its　glow　to　others。
‘Okay；　but　after　we　tell　Frank　about　it；　we　get　you　the　hell　out　of　Dodge　City。‘
‘I‘m　okay；‘　Pam　said；　lying；　knowing　he　saw　the　lie；　and　ashamed　of　it　because　she　didn‘t　grasp　his　intimate　understanding　for　her　feelings　of　the　moment。
You　really　are；　he　wanted　to　tell　her；　but　she　hadn‘t　learned　about　those　things　yet。　And　so　he　asked　a　question：　‘How　many　other　girls？‘
‘Doris；　Xantha；　Paula；　Maria；　and　Roberta　。。。　they‘re　all　like　me；　John。　And　Helen　。。。　when　they　killed　her；　they　made　us　watch。‘
‘Well；　with　a　little　luck　you　can　do　something　about　that；　honey。‘　He　put　his　arm　around　her；　and　after　a　time　the　shaking　stopped。
‘I‘m　thirsty；‘　she　said。
‘There‘s　a　cooler　on　the　backseat。‘
Pam　smiled。　‘That‘s　right。‘　She　turned　in　the　seat　to　reach　for　a　Coke　…　and　her　body　suddenly　went　rigid。　She　gasped；　and　Kelly‘s　skin　got　that　all…too…familiar　unwele　feeling；　like　an　electric　charge　running　along　its　surface。　The　danger　feeling。
‘Kelly！‘　Pam　screamed。　She　was　looking　towards　the　car‘s　left　rear。　Kelly　was　already　reaching　for　his　gun；　turning　his　body　as　he　did　so；　but　it　was　too　late；　and　part　of　him　already　knew　it。　The　outraged　thought　went　through　his　mind　that　he‘d　erred　badly；　fatally；　but　he　didn‘t　know　how；　and　there　was　no　time　to　figure　it　out　because　before　he　could　reach　his　gun；　there　was　a　flash　of　light　and　an　impact　on　his　head；　followed　by　darkness。
C7
　　　　Recovery
It　was　a　routine　police　patrol　that　spotted　the　Scout。　Officer　Chuck　Monroe；　sixteen　months　on　the　force；　just　old　enough　to　have　his　own　solo　radio　car；　made　it　a　habit　to　patrol　his　part　of　the　District　after　taking　to　the　street。　There　wasn‘t　much　he　could　do　about　the　dealers　…　that　was　the　job　of　the　Narcotics　Division　…　but　he　could　show　the　flag；　a　phrase　he‘d　learned　in　the　Marine　Corps。　Twenty…five；　newly　married；　young　enough　to　be　dedicated　and　angry　at　what　was　happening　in　his　city　and　his　old　neighborhood；　the　officer　noted　that　the　Scout　was　an　unusual　vehicle　for　this　area。　He　decided　to　check　it　out；　record　its　tag　number；　and　then　came　the　heart…stopping　realization　that　the　car‘s　left　side　had　taken　at　least　two　shotgun　blasts。　Officer　Monroe　stopped　his　car；　flipped　on　his　rotating　lights；　and　made　the　first；　preliminary　call　of　possible　trouble；　please　stand　by。　He　stepped　out　of　the　car；　switching　his　police　baton　into　his　left　hand；　leaving　his　right　at　the　grip　of　his　service　revolver。　Only　then　did　he　approach　the　car。　A　well…trained　officer；　Chuck　Monroe　moved　in　slowly　and　carefully；　his　eyes　scanning　everything　in　sight。
‘Oh；　shit！‘　The　return　to　his　radio　car　was　rapid。　First　Monroe　called　for　backup　and　then　for　an　ambulance；　and　then　he　notified　his　District　desk　of　the　license　number　of　the　subject　automobile。　Then；　grabbing　his　first…aid　kit；　he　returned　to　the　Scout。　The　door　was　locked；　but　the　window　was　blown　out；　and　he　reached　inside　to　unlock　it。　What　he　saw　then　froze　him　in　his　tracks。
The　head　rested　on　the　steering　wheel；　along　with　the　left　hand；　while　the　right　rested　in　his　lap。　Blood　had　sprayed　all　over　the　inside。　The　man　was　still　breathing；　which　surprised　the　officer。　Clearly　a　shotgun　blast；　it　had　obliterated　the　metal　and　fiberglass　of　the　Scout‘s　body　and　hit　the　victim‘s　head；　neck；　and　upper　back。　There　were　several　small　holes　in　the　exposed　skin；　and　these　were　oozing　blood。　The　wound　looked　as　horrible　as　any　he　had　seen　on　the　street　or　in　the　Marine　Corps；　and　yet　the　man　was　alive。　That　was　sufficiently　amazing　that　Monroe　decided　to　leave　his　first…aid　kit　closed。　There　would　be　an　ambulance　here　in　minutes；　and　he　decided　that　any　action　he　took　was　as　likely　to　make　things　worse　as　better。　Monroe　held　the　kit　under　his　right　hand　like　a　book；　looking　at　the　victim　with　the　frustration　of　a　man　of　action　to　whom　action　was　denied。　At　least　the　poor　bastard　was　unconscious。
Who　was　he？　Monroe　looked　at　the　slumped　form　and　decided　that　he　could　extricate　the　wallet。　The　officer　switched　the　first…aid　kit　to　his　left　hand　and　reached　in　for　the　wallet　pocket　with　his　right。　Unsurprisingly；　it　was　empty；　but　his　touch　had　elicited　a　reaction。　The　body　moved　a　little；　and　that　wasn‘t　good。　He　moved　his　hand　to　steady　it；　but　then　the　head　moved；　too；　and　he　knew　that　the　head　had　better　stay　still；　and　so　his　hand　automatically　and　wrongly　touched　it。　Something　rubbed　against　something　else；　and　a　cry　of　pain　echoed　across　the　dark；　wet　street　before　the　body　went　slack　again。
‘Shit！‘　Monroe　looked　at　the　blood　on　his　fingertips　and　unconsciously　rubbed　it　off　on　his　blue　uniform　trousers。　Just　then　he　heard　the　banshee…wail　of　a　Fire　Department　ambulance　approaching　from　the　east；　and　the　officer　whispered　a　quiet　prayer　of　thanks　that　people　who　knew　what　they　were　doing　would　shortly　relieve　him　of　this　problem。
The　ambulance　turned　the　corner　a　few　seconds　later。　The　large；　boxy；　red…and…white　vehicle　halted　just　past　the　radio　car；　and　its　two　occupants　came　at　once　to　the　officer。
‘What　d‘we　got。‘　Strangely；　it　didn‘t　e　out　like　a　question。　The　senior　fireman…paramedic　hardly　needed　to　ask　in　any　case。　In　this　part　of　town　at　this　time　of　night；　it　wouldn‘t　be　a　traffic　accident。　It　would　be　‘perating　trauma‘　in　the　dry　lexicon　of　his　profession。　‘Jesus！‘
The　other　crewman　was　already　moving　back　to　the　ambulance　when　another　police　car　arrived　on　the　scene。
‘What　gives？‘　the　watch　supervisor　asked。
‘Shotgun；　close　range；　and　the　guy‘s　still　alive！‘　Monroe　reported。
‘I　don‘t　like　the　neck　hits；‘　the　first　ambulance　guy　observed　tersely。
‘Collar？‘　the　other　paramedic　called　from　an　equipment　bay。
‘Yeah；　if　he　moves　his　head　。。。　damn。‘　The　senior　firefighter　placed　his　hands　on　the　victim‘s　head　to　secure　it　in　place。
‘ID？‘　the　sergeant　asked。
‘No　wallet。　I　haven‘t　had　a　chance　to　look　around　yet。‘
‘Did　you　run　the　tags？‘
Monroe　nodded。　‘Called　‘em　in；　it　takes　a　little　while。‘
The　sergeant　played　his　flashlight　on　the　inside　of　the　car　to　help　the　firemen。　A　lot　of　blood；　otherwise　empty。　Some　kind　of　cooler　in　the　backseat。　‘What　else？‘　he　asked　Monroe。
‘The　block　was　empty　when　I　got　here。‘　Monroe　checked　his　watch。　‘Eleven　minutes　ago。‘　Both　officers　stood　back　to　give　the　paramedics　room　to　work。
‘You　ever　seen　him　before？‘
‘No；　Sarge。‘
‘Check　the　sidewalks。‘
‘Right。‘　Monroe　started　quartering　the　area　around　the　car。
‘I　wonder　what　this　was　all　about；‘　the　sergeant　asked　nobody　in　particular。　Looking　at　the　body　and　all　the　blood；　his　next　thought　was　that　they　might　never　find　out。　So　many　crimes　mitted　in　this　area　were　never　really　solved。　That　was　not　something　pleasing　to　the　sergeant。　He　looked　at　the　paramedics。　‘How　is　he；　Mike？‘
‘Damned　near　bled　out；　Bert。　Definite　shotgun；‘　th