AN: Cliffhanger? I thought all the chapters so far were cliffhangers. I shall have to try harder. And by the way, I'll apologize now for extensive upcoming use of the effenheimer. Believe me when I say that it's they way most emergency workers speak, even when there's no crisis going on. Off we go again!
Tru equated the sensation with being hit full-force by a linebacker. The impact of the bullet low in the back of her thigh threw the leg out from under her and she went down hard on her back. She lay there on the forest floor, clutching at her leg as blood oozed between her fingers, almost too stunned to cry out. Almost.Tuesday 3:16 pmThe tapping of the keys at Kiff's internet station echoed through the marble room in the downtown library, drawing evil looks from the groups of senior citizens who hung out there. They wanted peace and quiet, and didn't like young interlopers who came in and drummed the solo from 'Wipeout' on THEIR computers.
Kiff did her best to ignore them, concentrating instead on how much her legs hurt. She had to get a car.
She'd come in search of more information, knowing she'd need more than the word of a homeless guy before she went to the cops. As sad a social commentary as that may be, she didn't have time to explore it. Instead, she entered a name into the search engine.
The first thing that popped up in Yahoo! for 'Tru Davies' was an article from the local paper. Kiff clicked on the heading.
TRU DAVIES: HERO OR GLORY HOUND?
By Michelle Kerry, staff writer
Whatever you want to call her, this young woman
seems to have a knack for being in the wrong place
at the right time, sweeping in to save the day, no
matter the danger. It's almost as if she's rehearsed
these devil-may-care rescues. Dare we speculate?
This reporter once managed to corner the elusive
Ms. Davies. When confronted with these
observations, she actually tried to convince me
that she is able to do these things only because her
targets have already died. She added that these
people somehow recovered from this pesky
malady enough to ask her...
Kiff's progress on the article had already halted, her eyes trailing over one particular phrase over and over.
"...her targets have already died... her targets have already died... ALREADY DIED..."
The eerie feeling that had been riding Kiff all day suddenly spiked.
"My God..."
"Ssshh!"
"Sorry," Kiff whispered to the group of blue-hairs nearby.
Get a grip, Frink, she snapped at herself. You were a science major, for crying out loud.
The portable radio on Kiff's belt suddenly squawked the emergency tones. This time, the librarians joined in the glaring.
"SQUAD TWENTY-SIX, SQUAD TWENTY-SIX. NINE-ONE-ONE HANGUP ON RURAL ROUTE NINE AND SANDERSON ROAD. PLEASE INVESTIGATE."
"Sssshhh!"
"Sorry, sorry," she whispered, turning the volume down.
Wait a minute. Rural Route 9? That had to be twenty miles outside of town... twenty miles West of town, as in 14 West.
She typed in another search. 'Rural Route 9': A Girl scout headquarters, a small state park, old stockyards, Tamzarian Auto-parts...
Tamzarian?
The radio came to life again, and what she heard prompted Kiff to turn it back up.
"SQUAD TWENTY-SIX, YOU CAN CANCEL PER TWO-TWENTY-NINE. TEST CALL THAT WAS SUPPOSED TO GO TO HIS STATION ONLY. SORRY FOR THE MIX-UP."
Kiff's jaw dropped. 229 was Tamzarian's employee ID.
"Oh my God!"
"Ssssshhhh!"
"Oh, step off you bunch of yentas! Go out and accomplish something in your golden years, why don't you!"
Tuesday 3:24 pm
"Yeah, right... Well, I'm sure I faxed it to you. Next time, check the damn paper before you send the page out to the wrong station... Well, then one of you idiots must've lost it... No, I don't want you to send it out again! You already ruined it. It's a drill because it was supposed to catch my guys off guard. Now I'll have to set the whole thing up again. See you in a month or so, if you still have a job!"
Tamzarian ended his conversation with the dispatcher by slamming the phone down on his desk and sat for a moment, wearily rubbing his eyes. That had been too close. What were those idiots doing out there?
The phone rang again.
"That better be you, Andy," he barked into the receiver.
"Easy, Captain. Just checking in. And it's a good thing too, because I detect in your tone that something is amiss."
"Jack! No, no. Everything's fine. It's just taking a little longer than expected."
A pause, and then: "You know Captain Tamzarian, God doesn't like it when people lie. Neither does my employer. Guess which one should worry you more."
"All right, all right. The thing is... I can't find Andy. Or Kiff."
Another pause.
"Not what I want to hear. You know, Don and Mike seem to be doing fine with their part. Why is it I can count on them and not you?"
"Wouldn't be too sure of that. We just got a nine-one-one hang-up from the only phone within two miles of that place."
"I see. What are we doing about that?"
"Relax. I took care of it."
"Well, good," Jack said brightly. "Now take care of Frink."
Jack hung up, not pleased with this news. Tru had managed to meddle in this a lot more than he'd anticipated. What if... God, what if Kiff actually believed her? Worse yet, what if she was out there looking for Tru? Either way, she'd eventually make her way to the cops...
Tuesday 3:24 pm (elsewhere)
The door to the building burst open, startling Mike R. out of his hand- wringing. In came Don, half-dragging, half-carrying Tru with him.
Mike R.'s eyes widened as his jaw dropped, making his face look even rounder. Tru was white as a lily, sweating profusely, and trying to find purchase on the floor with her left leg. Her right was leaving a wide trail of blood on the floor.
"Jesus Christ! What the hell happened out there?"
"Shut up," Don growled as he pulled Tru past him.
"Did you shoot her? Hey, did you –"
"I said shut up and get over here!"
Don opened one of the office doors and pushed Tru inside. She fell on the floor of the dark little room, waves of pain pushing gray edges into her vision and threatening to overtake her. She couldn't feel an exit wound and she was bleeding badly. This was all kinds of bad.
"Stupid," she vaguely heard Don saying as he approached her with the duct tape again. "That was really stupid. What did you have to go and do that for, huh? Why'd you have to – What the fuck are you doing?"
Mike R. was kneeling next to Tru, putting pressure on the wound with his big hands. He blinked up at Don, as though surprised by the question.
"I-I was just... Come on, Man! She's bleeding all over."
Don made a frustrated noise. "Go and find something to put over it, then."
Mike scurried out of the room. Don took his place next to Tru. By the time he'd finished taping her hands behind her back and her ankles together, Mike R. had returned with a strip from one of the canvas tarps. Mike cinched it snuggly around Try's thigh, managing to slow the blood flow if not stop it all together. Tru mused darkly that he must be a decent paramedic, were it not for the turning to a life of crime and everything.
Mike R. was just standing back up when Don's right hook almost sent him down again. Somehow, he managed to stay on his stubby legs.
"God dammit, man! What was that for?"
"I told you to watch her, you fat fuck!"
"I just went out for a minute! She must've –"
"Oh she must've, huh? And how'd she manage that? Did you even bother to check her pockets?"
"Yeah, well neither did you! What do we need her for anyway? Didn't you and Andy –"
"No we didn't, stupid. Kiff's disappeared."
Mike R. moaned. "Disappeared? Don, you guys told me this was going to be easy!"
"Well, it just got harder, thanks in no small part to you. Now come on. We've got to find the little kike before Tamzarian finds out."
"Don't do this," Tru said through gritted teeth. "If you leave me here, I'll bleed to death and you'll go down for two murders!"
Don sneered down at her. "Maybe you'll get lucky and we'll catch up with Frink before then. If not, I'm sure somebody'll find you by August."
"Don't be stupid; you're going to get caught. Mike, listen to me. If Kiff and I both figured it out, then somebody else will too."
"She's just trying to save her own ass," Don said, not liking the indecision on Mike's face.
"Don't listen to him, Mike. This is your last chance. You're going to –"
She was cut off when Don slapped another strip of tape over her mouth. He bustled past Mike and on out of the office. Mike lingered a moment, cast an apologetic look into Tru's pleading eyes, and then followed Don. He closed the door behind him, leaving Tru alone in the dark.
Tuesday 4:01 pm
"So let me get this straight, pardon the expression. Some girl comes looking for you this morning, and then her boss from the morgue later comes by looking for her. You take this to mean that I should send half the freaking precinct out to the boondocks to see what's what. How am I doing so far?"
This wasn't going well. Kiff hadn't really expected it to, and supposed she deserved it after yelling at a bunch of old ladies in a public library. Since she'd caught Fielding here at the station house, he'd been in an ugly mood. Nevertheless, he was still the one officer most likely to listen to her. Barely. Hence the river of sarcasm that carried his words across his cluttered disk to where Kiff sat in an unforgiving folding chair.
"I know how it sounds, but James said that –"
"Oh, I almost forgot your friend the hobo. Never mind that nobody else saw a thing, even though it supposedly happened in broad daylight."
"But I did some checking. There's an old factory building out there that used to belong to Tamzarian's father before the IRS took it. I'm guessing he still has a set of keys. It'd sure be a great place to hide."
"Jesus, Mary and Joseph," Fielding said, shaking his head. "You're not really trying to tell me that your boss is some kind of crooked? Man's got twenty years in the department!"
"It can't hurt to look, can it?"
"Kiff, there's a reason my fat old ass is stuck behind this desk instead of out on my beat. You know what it is?"
Kiff sighed. "Me?"
"That's right, you goddam ambulance jockey: You. I'm doing penance because I listened to you the first time. You're not giving me any good reasons for making that particular mistake again."
Finally frustrated beyond the bounds of politeness, Kiff raised her voice a little.
"Speaking of reasons, there's a reason I came to you. I thought you of all people wouldn't have your head so far up your ass that you quit listening to the people we're supposed to help."
She stood and was about to storm away, when Fielding's gruff voice stopped her.
"All right, all right. I'll make some calls. If you're wrong, it'll only cost me my pension."
Just then, the phone on Fielding's desk rang. Motioning for Kiff to sit again, he picked up.
"Fielding here... Yeah, Sikes. What's up?.. Yeah... No shit... No shit! Yeah, I'll be right there."
He hung up and stood to don his jacket, giving Kiff a look that clearly said 'I told you so.'
"Just got a reliable tip. Apparently, our girl was seen being forced into a red corolla that headed downtown. Nice try kid, but I'd keep my day job if I was you."
"What? Fielding, how is this tip more reliable than mine? And who uses a corolla as a getaway car?"
"Because this eye witness actually came forward, unlike your boyfriend James. Have a nice day. I've got buildings to search."
On the other side of the floor, separated by secretaries, ringing phones, ornery arrestees and dozens of other cops, Officer Sikes stood up from his own desk chair and shook hands with the man across from him.
"Thanks very much for coming forward with this, Mister..."
"Jack. Just Jack."
"Jack. Now you're sure it was her?"
"Positive. We used to work together at the city morgue. I just hope you find her."
"Don't you worry, Sir. We won't stop until we do."
Jack nodded soberly. "I appreciate that, Officer."
He watched Sikes hurry out to his patrol car with the others, a satisfied smile playing across his face.
"I'm sure you won't."
Tuesday 4:44 pm
Kiff was thanking God for small favors. Almost everyone in the station were out on calls, leaving the place open to a cat burglar like herself. Also, no one had vandalized her locker while she was gone and her street clothes were still there instead of dangling from the ceiling fan (which had happened once before). As she changed back into them, she tried to think of how to proceed. Rural Route 9 was an awfully long way to go on a ten speed.
She shrugged into her long gray coat and after a fashion, snuck out of the women's locker room and into the equipment room to snatch one of the spare medical equipment bags. She wanted to be prepared.
Prepared for what, she had no idea.
Well, the way the day was going, she had but to step outside and the next answer would fall on her head like a piano, a la Wyle E. Coyote. With many cautious glances over her shoulder, she crept across the floor, past the staircase, and out the door.
She was out on the sidewalk for about half a block and was just about to cross a driveway ramp when she heard the loud squealing of tires. Frowning, she looked up and saw people diving out of the way of a green SUV that had just run a red light.
It was headed straight for her.
TBC...
Almost there, kids. Sorry for the delay: Paramedic land has been a happening joint lately. I'll try to make this next interval between updates a shorter one.