Run With Me (33 page)

He got all that in that split
second?

He opens up a small compartment
on the inside of the door and pulls out a small pistol. He hands it
to me, and I take it. It's the first time I've held a gun, and it's
surprisingly heavy.

“
Why do I need this?” I ask,
now slightly regretting my decision to come along.

“
Protection,” he says. “Just
in case.” He doesn't elaborate.

Then he takes another small
device and clips it to the inside of his belt. Immediately another
red blip appears on the screen in my hand. “It's a tracking device,
so you'll know where I am at all times. Keep an eye on me, OK. If I'm
in there too long, if the device goes off or I'm stationary for an
extended period, don't stick around.”

Then he passes me a cell phone.
“If I'm OK, I'll call you on this. If I don't....you need to forget
about me.”

He grips my hand and draws me
eyes to his. “Kitty...if I fail, you need to go alone.”

My voice is almost a whimper
when I speak. “Where?”

“
I have a man in Texas you can
trust. He's like Dale. He can set you up with a new life. There's
money in the trunk with his details. I've told him we'll be
coming....or that you might have to come alone.”

I feel my chest constrict at the
thought that Colt isn't going to come out of this alive. At the
thought that I'm going to be on my own again, back on the run with
Carmine ever on my tail. I shake my head. “I don't think I can do
this without you.”

His eyes turn to steel and he
lifts his palm to my cheek. “It's just a precaution. I'm not going
to fail. For you, for my family, your family...and for me. I'm going
to finish this.”

His words give me hope. Hope
that he'll step back into the car in only a few minutes. Hope that
this nightmare will be over once and for all. That we can both move
on without the specter of Michael Carmine always haunting our steps.

He draws me into a final hug,
and I grip him harder than ever. “Don't leave the car,” he says
quietly, giving me my final orders. “Watch the blip and promise me
that if something goes wrong, you'll drive away.”

He pulls away and stares deep
into my eyes. “Promise me Kitty.”

I nod and whisper. “I
promise.”

Then he smiles, almost
playfully, turns, and steps from the car.

I watch him until he's turned
round the corner, then drop my eyes to the red blip on the map. It
moves slowly around towards the gate, before stopping outside the
outer wall. Then it begins circling around the street and the main
wall that lines the edge of the property. I sense he's looking for a
weak point of entry so that he can get in unseen.

I wonder exactly what security
the place has. If it really is Carmine's place – and that's still
just speculation – surely there will be guards, cameras, and a
variety of other security measures in place? Part of me hopes that
Colt finds it too hard to find an entry point so just gives up and
returns to the car. There will be other opportunities to get him,
won't there? Why try to infiltrate his stronghold like this? Surely
there's another way? The blip is still perusing the outer wall when I
begin questioning whether I should jump out of the car and bring him
back. Tell him it's not worth it, that it's too risky. Tell him to
forget everything and run with me, right now.

But I don't move. I don't run
from the car. I promised him I'd do what he told me. I have to trust
him, trust his judgment, trust that he knows what he's doing. Who am
I to question his authority? This is his world, his job. I remember
what Dale told me back in the cabin.
If anyone can do it, Colt
can
. I have to believe he was right.

The blip moves now, inward past
the wall, and I know that he's inside. He must have found an entry
point. It continues to snake this way and that towards the mansion,
then around it. It stops periodically, perhaps listening for
something, perhaps avoiding the gaze of a guard or camera. It's so
quiet in the car as I hold the device in my hand, try to imagine
what's happening only a few hundred feet away. Every time he stops I
hold my breath, wondering whether he's been found, been shot dead.
When he moves off again I exhale, praying for it to end soon.

Eventually he makes it inside
the house, but the map's not detailed enough for me to know anything
more than that. It merely shows the red blip moving around the large
area, creeping along in straight lines. I imagine him shuffling along
walls, listening for voices, hunting down the enemy.

It must have been over 20
minutes since he left the car when the blip finally stops. Not like
before. Before it would stop for a few moments and then move off
again. This time, it stops for one minute. Then another. Soon the
blip hasn't moved for five minutes and I'm beginning to panic inside
the car. I suddenly feel my hand gripping tightly at the pistol Colt
gave me, and an urge rushes through me to spring to his rescue. I
could climb the wall, run into the house, find him. I could save him,
for once.
I
could save
him
.

His voice reaches me from
somewhere inside my head.
Promise me that if something goes wrong,
you'll drive away.
I told him I'd go. I promised I wouldn't do
anything stupid, that I'd at least save myself. I keep staring at the
blip, hoping for it to move off again, but it doesn't. It stays
still, and all I can imagine is his body, filled with bullets, lying
in a pool of blood on Carmine's floor.

I stay in the car, hoping now
beyond hope. Then, without warning, the red dot fades before my eyes,
disappearing from the screen. I go numb and a silent tear slides down
my cheek. Colt's not coming back. Colt is dead.

Colt

Locked in the darkness, I think
only of Kitty.

At least she got away. She must
have, otherwise I'd already be dead. I can't tell how many days have
passed since I felt that crack to the back of my skull. Since I saw
Rugger, before my eyes went dark, hovering over me with the butt of
his gun crimson red with my blood.

I don't know where I am.
Possibly in the basement of the house? Maybe at another location,
somewhere remote and out of the way. It's been black for days now, my
only respite from the darkness coming when I'm tortured. I prefer the
darkness, because when it's light, the pain starts.

It's information they want.
Information about Kitty. Where she is. Who's helping her. Every day
when they come down and try to extract what they want, a smile creeps
onto my face despite what's coming. It means she's another day
further away from them. It's another day where she's safe. If she
followed my instructions she'll be long gone by now. Set up with a
new name, a new identity, a new life. I know, now, that I'll never be
able to spend it with her. All I can do is hope that she's never
found, never caught. As long as she lives, I'll die a little bit
happier.

But not happy. I'll never be
happy knowing I failed. Failed to take out Carmine, take out Rugger.
I heard him, speaking on the phone in the mansion. I'd managed to get
in easier than I thought. There were only a couple of guards on the
perimeter that I easily incapacitated, and the cameras were few and
far between. Once I got inside and heard his voice, I felt sure that
it was Rugger he was talking with. I'd get them both at once. Caught
in an office discussing business. I'd be able to shoot them both dead
right then and there, and be back with Kitty before their bodies went
cold.

But no. I felt the impact at the
back of my head before I'd had a chance to fire on Carmine. Just
before I caught glimpse of who he was talking with. It was the
manager that I pursued from the club. The man whose home I entered
when looking for Carmine the first time. Not Rugger. A foolish
mistake, and one I'll regret for the rest of my short life.

When I hit the floor I fell
unconscious almost immediately. I just had long enough to see Rugger
there, with his bloodied gun. Just long enough to smell the heavy
scent of smoke creep up my nose. Just long enough to see the smirk
run across his craggy face, see his eyes flash with pleasure, knowing
that now he'd be able to finish the job on me.

After the blackness consumed me,
I thought I'd never wake again. When my eyes opened in darkness I
thought I was dead. Then, slowly, a sliver of light surrounding a
door frame became apparent. I could just make out the shape of the
room. Small, claustrophobic, and completely silent.

Several days went by as two men
I didn't know came into the room and sought to extract information
from me. I bit my tongue and smiled at them. There was no way I'd
give Kitty up. No way I'd tell them anything. I've taken beatings
before, but never felt the sting of pain like what they administered.
But still, I didn't yield. Day after day, I said nothing.

I think I've been here for about
3 days now, but it's getting hard to tell. I have yet to see Rugger,
see Carmine. Just these two men, looking for information. I sleep in
fits, never knowing how much time has passed when I wake. My wrists
throb from the rope rubbing at them. My head aches consistently,
pulsing still from the blow Rugger gave me. They feed me water and
bread to keep me alive, tease me with the promise of nicer food in
order to break me. They don't know me at all. They won't break me.

Eventually the door opens and
Rugger walks in. He smiles at me and I plant one back at him. “I'm
going to really enjoy this,” he growls through yellow teeth, before
administering his own brand of torture. He doesn't even ask me any
questions. I know this is for him. I know he enjoys it.

It seems like days later that I
finally see Carmine. He looks so out of place in the room when he
enters, smartly dressed in a fine suit. He pulls up a chair and sits
in front of me, alone, just frowning. Before he removes his
sunglasses I catch my reflection in them. My clothes are tattered and
torn, my body bruised and battered. Blood spills from my nose, my
mouth, my forehead. I look like I've been through World War 3.

Carmine sighs and just looks at
me for a few moments before finally speaking. “I suppose you found
out the truth then didn't you Colt. You couldn't just let it lie
could you. You couldn't just believe what I told you. Tell me....how
did you find out? Did you speak to Klein?”

I lift my head with my aching
neck and stare through bloodshot eyes at him. “Pullman,” I growl.
It's the first word I've uttered in days.

He looks confused. “Pullman.
But I killed him. That part of my story was true.” He's so casual
when he speaks, like none of this is anything to him. Just another
problem that needs solving. I feel my wrists tense harder against the
ropes.

“
He left a confession, and
your name came up.”

He sits back in his chair and
crosses his legs. “A confession. Right, I see. And how did you
happen upon this confession?”

“
What does it matter?” I say
through gritted teeth.

He throws his hands up. “Ah, I
suppose you're right. The truth's out there now, but it's all
irrelevant. There's really nothing you can do about it. I'll find the
girl, and I'll kill you.”

“
You won't find her,” I
whisper.

Now he's leaning forward again.
“Oh I won't? Like I didn't find Pullman? It took me a few years,
but I always tie up my loose ends Colt. Pullman could have ratted me
out at some point, so I needed him dead. Just like young Kitty. I
won't stop until I find her. You know that really, don't you?”

My eyes drop and my body begins
to relax as the one hope I had, the hope that Kitty will be safe,
begins to fade. He's right. Eventually she'll slip up. Eventually
he'll track her down. Whether it takes months or years, he'll find
her if he puts enough energy into it.

“
So why don't you just kill me
now then?” I ask. “If you know you'll find her, why are you
keeping me alive.”

He stands up and paces behind
me, drawing out the moment like a stage villain. I feel his hands
drop onto my shoulders as his slithery voice tickles at my ear. “You
know what, you're exactly right. I'd hoped you'd give her up, but I
can see now that's not going to happen.”

I tense again, feeling all my
muscles working together to rip myself free. But my ankles are locked
fast to the legs of the chair, my wrists bound to its arms. All I
manage to do is shake the chair around, scraping at the stone floor,
as Carmine laughs behind me.

“
Settle down, settle down
Colt,” comes his deep voice. “I'll promise it won't take long.
Well, not too long, anyway.”

He laughs lightly again as he
wanders casually towards the door. Before he opens it, he turns one
final time towards me. He seems to enjoy my anger, his smile growing
at the sight of me shaking futilely in my chair. “You say hi to
Sophie for me will you Colt. I really do miss her you know.” Then
he laughs again, and turns to leave.

My breathing is fast now. My
death approaching quickly. He's never going to stop hunting Kitty. I
can't lose hope. I have to save her, have to get out. I muster all my
strength, trying to pull my wrists free from their binds. They burn
as my skin is torn, blood beginning to flow from the wounds. It helps
lubricate the surface, gives me more movement. I shut my eyes tight
and ignore the searing pain as I slide my wrist up and down along the
rope, growing wet with my blood. My right hand remains stuck fast,
but my left begins to loosen. A few millimeters becomes a centimeter
as I focus all my energy in releasing my hand, in squeezing it
through the slowly opening gap. The blood continues to soak into the
rope, slackening it, making it slippery and wet. I can feel the gap
opening, enough to slide it up to the base of my thumb. I clench by
hand together, one last pull and I'll be free....