Highway from Hell
Chapter Eleven
When Joe awoke, he was lying in a trash dumpster. He tried to move only to discover his hands were tied behind him. His feet, too, had been bound and a bandana was in his mouth, tied behind his head. As he struggled with his bonds, the lid opened and several trash bags were tossed insdie. One hit his head, bursting open and used coffee grinds went sliding down his hair and face into his shirt. The lid closed and Joe was left in the semi-dark, the only light seeping in from the cracks around the lid.
Joe's eyes roved the dumpster, but he could find nothing with which to sever his bonds. He kept struggling to free himself and eventually, he had become so slick from the wet grinds, catsup, and other slimy debris, he managed to wiggle one of his wrists free. He pulled his hands around in front of him and groaned when he saw his belt smothered in stains.
He ripped off his gag and worked his way through the muck and undid the belt which bound his feet. Leaving his own ruined belt lying in the refuse, he wrapped the other belt around his wrist several times before working on opening the side door of the dumpster. Two bags fell out as he slid it open and jumped out. He tossed the bags back into the dumpster and started out of the alley he was in. He paused as he saw the garbage truck back into the alley. The men looked at Joe in disgust as he shuffled past them, a frown on his face.
By the time Joe got back to his apartment complex, the sky was losing its last vestige of pink. He slipped into the building and went to the apartment shared by his brother and friends. The door was answered by a groggy Biff who shouted for Frank even as he pulled a weary Joe inside the apartment. Frank and Chet came running into the room, their nostrils filled with a rotting stench before they arrived.
"What happened?" Frank demanded, rushing over to Joe in a panic and calming down only when he saw what he had assummed was blood was nothing more than catsup.
Joe told them about getting attacked last night. "I never saw him, but he used my belt to tie my wrists and this one I found around my ankles," he added, unwrapping the belt from his wrist. "Maybe you can clean it up and find out where it was purchased and by whom?" he suggested, laying it on the coffee table.
"Want to shower and change here?" Biff offered.
Joe thought briefly before shaking his head. "This is the second attack on me and no one has mentioned anything," Joe said, declining the offer. "Trey and Ken think I gave myself the overdose at the foundation. I wonder what Trey will say when he sees me like this."
"You think it could be some kind of test?" Chet wondered.
"I honestly don't know," Joe responded. "Jack would never try to kill me and..."
"Hold up!" Frank ordered, stopping Joe in mid-sentence. "You were just left in a dumpster, what's this about someone trying to kill you?"
"The garbage truck arrived just after I had gotten out," Joe informed the trio. "If I had still been inside the dumpster, I would have been compacted."
"It's over," Frank said firmly. "We're going home."
"Frank, these guys aren't trying to kill me," Joe argued. "They wouldn't have taken me to meet Tara if that were the case. It has to be someone else."
"Who?" Frank demanded. He knew Joe was right, but he still didn't like Joe being in such a vulnerable position.
"I don't know," Joe admitted. "The only people I talked to last night were Toots and Cory."
"Cory?" Frank asked, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully.
"Yeah, he was trying to get Toots to go to a meeting for addicts," Joe explained.
"I guess he really is trying to stay straight," Frank said with a sigh. For a moment, he had thought Cory might have been the one behind the attack.
"From now on, we're following you," Frank decided with a direct look at Joe's eyes. "Go shower and get some rest. We'll keep watch and when you leave the apartment again, at least one of us will be in the background."
"Sounds good," Joe said starting to smile but yawned instead. "Sorry."
"Go to bed," Frank ordered, pushing Joe toward the door.
When Joe reached his door, he dug his key from the filth which filled his pocket and inserted it into the lock. He pushed open the door and saw Trey walking toward him, a murderous expression on his face which changed to shock and then to concern. "What happened?" he demanded as he came over to Joe and inspected him for damage.
Joe rubbed the small of his back as if it ached while he told Trey about being attacked. He broke into a fit of coughing and Trey had to wait for Joe to stop before he found out about being tossed in the dumpster.
"Did you see who it was?" Trey asked, his eyes hard.
Joe shook his head. "Go on to your room," he ordered Joe. "We'll worry about this Jack guy later today. Right now, you need a shower, some sleep, and unless I'm much mistaken, something else." Joe nodded and moved toward the bedroom. "Joe," Trey added, causing Joe to turn and look at him. "Give me your shoes. I'll clean them. Just toss your clothes into the trash." Joe nodded again. "I've put some new clothes for you in the closet."
"Thanks," Joe replied, slipping out of his shoes and removing the soggy socks. He went to the bedroom and shut the door. After getting rid of more heroin and foil, he took his shower. He pulled on some briefs and sank down onto the bed, pulling a sheet on top of him. Minutes later, he was sound asleep.
Joe awoke to a hand on his shoulder giving him a gentle shake. He slowly opened his eyes, blinking at the brightness. "Up and at'em, Kid," Trey told him. "Lunch time."
Joe got up and dressed, walking into the living room in his socks. "Here you go," Trey said, handing Joe his sneakers which had obviously been taken tot he laundromat. He sat down on the sofa and put them on. "One more thing," Trey said, walking over to the television and picking up a pair of sunglasses with a blue frame. He handed them to Joe who accepted them with a smile.
If Joe hadn't known Trey was only trying to maintain Joe's loyalty, he would have thought Trey actually cared about him. At times, Trey reminded him of Frank. "Are you sure you feel up to this?" Trey asked. "If not, you don't have to go through with it."
"I can do it," Joe assured Trey. "I wouldn't want to let Tara down," he added.
This was exactly what Trey had wanted to hear because he smiled at Joe as he said, "I know what you mean." He held out a hand and took Joe's, pulling him to his feet.
Trey stayed behind and let Joe go alone. Joe entered the diner and saw Chet sitting in a corner booth. He glanced briefly at Joe, showing no sign of recognition. Jenny led Joe to the table he had sat at the day before. "What'll you have today?" she asked him.
"I'll have the same," he said, smiling up at her. She winked at him and went to fill his order. While she was gone, Jack came into the diner. He stood and looked over the occupants, his eyes coming to rest on Joe. Joe looked up as Jack came over to join him. He gave a nod indicating Jack could sit with him if he so wished. As soon as he sat, Jenny came over and took his order then left the two of them alone, returning only to bring their orders.
Jack kept up a steady stream of talk but kept his voice low enough so only Joe could hear him. Joe nodded every now nad then as if acknowledging something Jack was telling him. Had anyone overheard them, however, they would have heard Jack telling Joe about a crash he had been in back when he was first learning to fly.
When they had finished lunch, Jack again paid for Joe's meal. This time, however, when Jack left the diner, Joe went with him. They exited the building and started down the street. Joe turned as he heard the sound of a car approaching. His eyes widened in surprise when he saw a gun protruding from the window. Gunshots ripped through the air. Glass shattered behind Joe and Jack and they fell to the sidewalk. When the car had gone, Joe and Jack lay among the broken glass, unmoving.
Chapter Eleven
When Joe awoke, he was lying in a trash dumpster. He tried to move only to discover his hands were tied behind him. His feet, too, had been bound and a bandana was in his mouth, tied behind his head. As he struggled with his bonds, the lid opened and several trash bags were tossed insdie. One hit his head, bursting open and used coffee grinds went sliding down his hair and face into his shirt. The lid closed and Joe was left in the semi-dark, the only light seeping in from the cracks around the lid.
Joe's eyes roved the dumpster, but he could find nothing with which to sever his bonds. He kept struggling to free himself and eventually, he had become so slick from the wet grinds, catsup, and other slimy debris, he managed to wiggle one of his wrists free. He pulled his hands around in front of him and groaned when he saw his belt smothered in stains.
He ripped off his gag and worked his way through the muck and undid the belt which bound his feet. Leaving his own ruined belt lying in the refuse, he wrapped the other belt around his wrist several times before working on opening the side door of the dumpster. Two bags fell out as he slid it open and jumped out. He tossed the bags back into the dumpster and started out of the alley he was in. He paused as he saw the garbage truck back into the alley. The men looked at Joe in disgust as he shuffled past them, a frown on his face.
By the time Joe got back to his apartment complex, the sky was losing its last vestige of pink. He slipped into the building and went to the apartment shared by his brother and friends. The door was answered by a groggy Biff who shouted for Frank even as he pulled a weary Joe inside the apartment. Frank and Chet came running into the room, their nostrils filled with a rotting stench before they arrived.
"What happened?" Frank demanded, rushing over to Joe in a panic and calming down only when he saw what he had assummed was blood was nothing more than catsup.
Joe told them about getting attacked last night. "I never saw him, but he used my belt to tie my wrists and this one I found around my ankles," he added, unwrapping the belt from his wrist. "Maybe you can clean it up and find out where it was purchased and by whom?" he suggested, laying it on the coffee table.
"Want to shower and change here?" Biff offered.
Joe thought briefly before shaking his head. "This is the second attack on me and no one has mentioned anything," Joe said, declining the offer. "Trey and Ken think I gave myself the overdose at the foundation. I wonder what Trey will say when he sees me like this."
"You think it could be some kind of test?" Chet wondered.
"I honestly don't know," Joe responded. "Jack would never try to kill me and..."
"Hold up!" Frank ordered, stopping Joe in mid-sentence. "You were just left in a dumpster, what's this about someone trying to kill you?"
"The garbage truck arrived just after I had gotten out," Joe informed the trio. "If I had still been inside the dumpster, I would have been compacted."
"It's over," Frank said firmly. "We're going home."
"Frank, these guys aren't trying to kill me," Joe argued. "They wouldn't have taken me to meet Tara if that were the case. It has to be someone else."
"Who?" Frank demanded. He knew Joe was right, but he still didn't like Joe being in such a vulnerable position.
"I don't know," Joe admitted. "The only people I talked to last night were Toots and Cory."
"Cory?" Frank asked, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully.
"Yeah, he was trying to get Toots to go to a meeting for addicts," Joe explained.
"I guess he really is trying to stay straight," Frank said with a sigh. For a moment, he had thought Cory might have been the one behind the attack.
"From now on, we're following you," Frank decided with a direct look at Joe's eyes. "Go shower and get some rest. We'll keep watch and when you leave the apartment again, at least one of us will be in the background."
"Sounds good," Joe said starting to smile but yawned instead. "Sorry."
"Go to bed," Frank ordered, pushing Joe toward the door.
When Joe reached his door, he dug his key from the filth which filled his pocket and inserted it into the lock. He pushed open the door and saw Trey walking toward him, a murderous expression on his face which changed to shock and then to concern. "What happened?" he demanded as he came over to Joe and inspected him for damage.
Joe rubbed the small of his back as if it ached while he told Trey about being attacked. He broke into a fit of coughing and Trey had to wait for Joe to stop before he found out about being tossed in the dumpster.
"Did you see who it was?" Trey asked, his eyes hard.
Joe shook his head. "Go on to your room," he ordered Joe. "We'll worry about this Jack guy later today. Right now, you need a shower, some sleep, and unless I'm much mistaken, something else." Joe nodded and moved toward the bedroom. "Joe," Trey added, causing Joe to turn and look at him. "Give me your shoes. I'll clean them. Just toss your clothes into the trash." Joe nodded again. "I've put some new clothes for you in the closet."
"Thanks," Joe replied, slipping out of his shoes and removing the soggy socks. He went to the bedroom and shut the door. After getting rid of more heroin and foil, he took his shower. He pulled on some briefs and sank down onto the bed, pulling a sheet on top of him. Minutes later, he was sound asleep.
Joe awoke to a hand on his shoulder giving him a gentle shake. He slowly opened his eyes, blinking at the brightness. "Up and at'em, Kid," Trey told him. "Lunch time."
Joe got up and dressed, walking into the living room in his socks. "Here you go," Trey said, handing Joe his sneakers which had obviously been taken tot he laundromat. He sat down on the sofa and put them on. "One more thing," Trey said, walking over to the television and picking up a pair of sunglasses with a blue frame. He handed them to Joe who accepted them with a smile.
If Joe hadn't known Trey was only trying to maintain Joe's loyalty, he would have thought Trey actually cared about him. At times, Trey reminded him of Frank. "Are you sure you feel up to this?" Trey asked. "If not, you don't have to go through with it."
"I can do it," Joe assured Trey. "I wouldn't want to let Tara down," he added.
This was exactly what Trey had wanted to hear because he smiled at Joe as he said, "I know what you mean." He held out a hand and took Joe's, pulling him to his feet.
Trey stayed behind and let Joe go alone. Joe entered the diner and saw Chet sitting in a corner booth. He glanced briefly at Joe, showing no sign of recognition. Jenny led Joe to the table he had sat at the day before. "What'll you have today?" she asked him.
"I'll have the same," he said, smiling up at her. She winked at him and went to fill his order. While she was gone, Jack came into the diner. He stood and looked over the occupants, his eyes coming to rest on Joe. Joe looked up as Jack came over to join him. He gave a nod indicating Jack could sit with him if he so wished. As soon as he sat, Jenny came over and took his order then left the two of them alone, returning only to bring their orders.
Jack kept up a steady stream of talk but kept his voice low enough so only Joe could hear him. Joe nodded every now nad then as if acknowledging something Jack was telling him. Had anyone overheard them, however, they would have heard Jack telling Joe about a crash he had been in back when he was first learning to fly.
When they had finished lunch, Jack again paid for Joe's meal. This time, however, when Jack left the diner, Joe went with him. They exited the building and started down the street. Joe turned as he heard the sound of a car approaching. His eyes widened in surprise when he saw a gun protruding from the window. Gunshots ripped through the air. Glass shattered behind Joe and Jack and they fell to the sidewalk. When the car had gone, Joe and Jack lay among the broken glass, unmoving.