Purgatory Blues (2013), page 30
The Rover limped up the hill they were on quite admirably in spite of the naked rim grinding the road.
“I think I see the bridge”, Andy said moments later. “We’re almost out of here”.
“Thank god!” Melissa returned with a smile and gripped his hand.
Andy pulled out his phone. “I’ve got a couple bars”, he said and began scrolling his contacts.
“Who’re you calling?” She asked.
“Jack will get to us the fastest, he can call the rest of the guys too”.
Out of nowhere the Cayenne appeared and rammed them from behind. They weren’t prepared and the jolt threw them both forward. Andy’s phone fell from his hand along with the gun from his lap.
“Motherfucker!” Andy screamed as he turned to see Carl in pursuit once more.
“We can’t outrun him in this!” Melissa shouted over the noise of the rain and roaring engines.
Carl backed away and came up on their right. It would’ve been the perfect time to put a few shots through his windscreen, if only Andy could find the Glock. Once Carl was along side them he veered left and hit the Rover hard. Melissa responded in kind, but the impact to the Cayenne barely registered. Carl hit them once more but this time they locked themselves in a battle for supremacy.
They were coming up to the bridge fast. There were two large concrete supports on either side of it and Carl was attempting to push them into one on the left. With one missing tyre, this was a contest they would not win. They simply didn’t have the traction necessary to wrestle the Cayenne back. Carl was slowly but surely guiding them into a perfect collision course.
They were almost at the bridge when Andy decided he’d have to roll the dice one more time. “Trust me”, he said to Melissa, taking the steering wheel, “and hold on tight”.
Seconds away, they braced themselves. At the last possible moment Andy pulled to the left, missing the concrete support by inches and sending the Rover careening down a hill. As Andy had hoped, the Cayenne failed to disengage in time. Carl clipped his left corner on the concrete support with enough speed to spin the Cayenne and send it rolling on its side to the midway point of the bridge. Andy and Melissa weren’t around to see it though…they were plummeting down a sixty-five degree incline through dense foliage in total darkness. Brush, leaves, sticks and stems all slapped at the windscreen, completely obscuring their trajectory.
“Brakes!” Andy shouted over Melissa’s screams.
Before Melissa could put her foot to the pedal, the naked rim hooked a large rock like a pole vault and flipped the Rover over headfirst. They held on to each other and prepared for the worst. Owing to the angle of the hill, the Rover continued its roll until it had almost righted itself, if not for the large tree that caught the hood. When they’d finally settled, the rear of the Rover was flush against the incline of the hill leaving the vehicle looking like a rocket about to take off. They were wedged in tight.
Thankfully they’d taken the time to use their seat belts and when Andy came to, his face was buried in an airbag. He pulled Allen’s knife from his boot and ripped the bag out of his way. The first thing he did was to check on Melissa. She was unconscious and aside from some light bruising she looked to be in one piece. Her breathing was stable and there were no visible wounds. He attempted to rouse her but she was unresponsive. The deployment of the driver’s airbag had knocked her out. He decided it would be best to let her be, till help arrived. After checking himself he found that he was much in the same condition as Melissa…a little banged up but otherwise in decent shape.
Next he looked he looked on the floor of the back seat to see if the Glock was there and sure enough, it was, along with his cellphone, which was still active. He held it to his ear, “hello?”
“Andy, what the fuck is going on? I’ve been on the line for the last few minutes, it sounds like a war zone, where are you?” It was Jack.
“Am I glad to hear your voice”, Andy said with relief, “we’re in trouble brother, me and Melissa. We’re at the bridge leading in to the northwest factory district. Send everybody, cops, ambulance, everything. Get here quick, I’ve got to go”.
“Where are you going?” Jack asked with panic in his voice.
“To finish this”, Andy said. He cut the call before Jack could respond. There was no time for a conversation. Either he’d get to Carl and strike first, if he wasn’t already dead, or it would be the other way around. He preferred the former. Whichever way things played out, his priority was to protect Melissa and that meant taking out Carl before he got to her. He gave her a last look before he left and kissed her cheek, knowing that there was a chance he’d never see her again.
He opened his door with caution. He’d have to jump out quickly to avoid it falling down on him. Gravity was not on his side. In the dark it was hard to judge what he’d be landing on, but he took his chances. He slid out as far as he could while still holding the door open and let himself fall. He suppressed the urge to shout, “fuck”, when he landed awkwardly and lightly twisted his ankle. He didn’t want to alert Carl to his whereabouts.
Andy looked out at the bridge. He was only a short distance away from it and could clearly see the foundation from where he was. It looked to be roughly a two-story drop from top to bottom, with a staircase leading up. He reasoned that if Carl was up there, he might be expecting him to use those stairs. Andy decided that he would approach from the opposite end of where the Rover went down the hill and gain the element of surprise. He paused to check his ammunition in the Glock…there were five rounds in the magazine and one in the chamber.
He set out in the dark and the rain, down to the deepest part of the slope and up the other side. It was difficult navigating in the dark, especially with the pain in his ankle, but he wasn’t thinking about any of that right then. His only thoughts were of Carl and what Carl represented. He felt as though life had presented him with this challenge for a reason…a test to determine if he was worthy of the life he so coveted. Somehow Andy knew that everything had led him to this one defining moment in time, to this one last obstacle that stood between what was…and what could be. He felt that if he could defeat Carl, then he would have earned his redemption and perhaps…even be deserving of it.
When he reached the top of the hill he stopped at the entrance to the bridge behind one of the concrete supports. The Cayenne looked to have taken a severe beating and was crumpled from every visible angle. Andy pulled out the small blade from his boot with his left and took the Glock in his right. The rain was still pouring fiercely, making it hard to see and hear at any great length. Stealth wasn’t going to be much of a factor from that distance. All Andy could do was approach cautiously. He hoped that with any luck, he’d find Carl in little pieces when he got to the Cayenne.
The bridge was two lanes wide and had a guardrail about waist high on either side. Due to the Cayenne having rolled and flipped several times, Andy’s line of approach had him looking at the roof of the vehicle. He treaded slowly and with purpose, knowing that he might have to react at any moment.
Just then a flash of lightening lit the sky, accompanied a half second later with a booming crack of thunder. It’d startled Andy enough to raise his heart rate several notches, but he calmed himself and moved on. He was only a few feet away from the Cayenne when he spotted Carl’s gun on the ground. He kicked it away to the curb, not wishing to stop and be caught unaware. He kept moving. He was standing directly in front of the Cayenne when another bolt of lightening split the heavens.
“CARL!” Andy shouted, hoping to draw him out unarmed.
He peered through the smashed windscreen but there was no one inside. He walked around the vehicle to its underside, but still there was no one…his hands fell to his sides. He wondered if perhaps Carl had been thrown from the vehicle.
From behind him a swift kick to his right hand sent the Glock flying from his grasp. Andy swung left, raising the knife to come down in a stabbing motion. Carl expertly grabbed his wrist and forced the blade into Andy’s torso. The wound erupted in blinding agony, causing Andy to cry out from the flood of pain. Carl held the blade fast and laughed maniacally with a murderous grin on his face as silver fire burst across the sky.
Andy fought through the torture, grabbing both of Carl’s arms and head-butting him three times in succession, each time the blade moved just a little more inside him. Finally, Carl let go of the blade and stumbled back. Andy pulled out the knife and cried out once again as he dropped it to the ground. He felt dizzy and his vision began to cloud…but he pressed his advantage, following up with a left, a right and then an uppercut. Every move made him feel like he was being torn apart, but Carl finally dropped.
Andy coughed and spat blood, he could barely keep his feet under him but he knew he had to finish off Carl before he regained his senses. He spotted the Glock and stumbled toward it, almost loosing his footing twice. If he stopped to pick it up he knew he’d fall there and never get up again, so he grabbed for it as he moved past. He wasn’t walking as much as he was falling forward with a degree of control. With the gun in his hand he continued moving and made it to the guardrail for support.
He’d taken too long. Carl had already sat up and seen the Glock in Andy’s hand. He sprang to his feet and began running for cover as Andy used every ounce of energy he had left to bring his right arm up in a wide arc from right to left, spraying the six remaining bullets out of the Glock as he did. He missed every shot. Despite the slide being locked in the retracted position, in his confused state, he still tried squeezing off a few more rounds…to no avail.
Andy’s hand fell to his side, but he didn’t let go of the gun. There was still life left in him and he wasn’t giving up yet. If it came to it…he’d throw the gun at Carl.
“A worthy effort Mr. Maureau”, Carl called out through the storm, stepping out from behind the Cayenne.
“Go fuck yourself Carl”, Andy called back before he broke out in to a fit of coughing. He didn’t have the energy to spit the blood out…it just dribbled out the side of his mouth. He looked down at his stomach and saw that his clothes were soaked red. He put his left hand over the wound and felt the life seeping out of him while Carl calmly walked over to his gun at the curb. He picked it up, ejected the magazine and inserted a new one.
“I would share my ammunition, but I think I have been sporting enough for one night Mr. Maureau”, Carl called out, taking aim at Andy’s heart. “Goodbye”.
Though it was entirely futile, Andy tried to dodge to his right, foolishly hoping to make a run for it. He didn’t hear the shot being fired but the bullet caught him in the left shoulder with such force that it pushed his upper body over the guardrail. His feet scrambled desperately for purchase but in his weakened state, he wasn’t able to shift his mass back to safety. From the time the shot was fired till he went over was a mere two seconds. There was nothing to break his fall and despite all his intentions to land with minimal damage, he was already far too fragile to control his descent.
He surrendered to the fall, holding his breath and closing his eyes…and for just a moment…somewhere deep down inside himself…he hoped that it would be the end, but it wasn’t. His feet touched first and he twisted his knee, but the sickening crunch came when his left side struck the concrete foundation. He broke his left arm in two places and cracked several ribs. The scream that he let out pierced the night like the howl of a demon.
A moment later Carl was looking down at him from atop the bridge and fired three rounds. They missed by inches. Andy acted on instinct, rolling to his right and out Carl’s line of sight. The pain was indescribable, but it didn’t last long, he’d begun to go into shock. He heard Carl let out a long, blood-curdling scream of frustration through the wind and rain. He smiled to himself before he broke out in to more coughing, happy that he’d made the killer lose his cool.
His body was broken and he was sure that the fight was over. “This is it”, Andy thought to himself, “every ride’s got to end sometime. He’s going to come down those steps and finish me…and there’s not a damn a thing I can do about it”. He just hoped that he’d bought enough time so that maybe Melissa would get away. He hoped that maybe by the time Carl was done with him, Jack would’ve arrived with the cavalry. The odds were against him, but he didn’t want to die thinking that he’d failed at this too.
Andy tried to sit up but he couldn’t, the pain was too much. He closed his eyes and prepared for the end. He’d rolled into a gutter and the storm’s icy water gathered his blood as it flowed over him, taking his life away. He thought that he should’ve been angry at what was happening, but he wasn’t. He wondered if maybe after everything he’d done, he’d earned this. Maybe this was the ending that he deserved.
Andy thought that it was funny how, now when his life was slipping away from him, everything seemed to slow down. It felt like time had just stopped, every second seemed to last for hours. He thought about everything and everyone all at once. He thought about what had led him to where he was. He thought about all the things that he could’ve done differently. He thought about the choices that he’d made. He thought about all the things that he’d left unfinished. He thought about all the people he’d hurt, he thought about all his mistakes and how he’d never have the chance to set things right. He wondered…if this really was the end, how would the world remember him? Or would he even want them to?
He wiped the blood from his mouth and tried to shift his position, thinking that the least he could do would be to look his killer in the eyes. He wasn’t going to let some mad man gun him down like a dog. That was when he felt the pinch in the right pocket of his jeans. “If I’m going to die, I’m going to die comfortable”, he thought to himself. He gritted his teeth against the pain, rolled on to his back and reached in to his pocket with his right hand. It was a solitary bullet. The one Allen had tossed to him at the Sink.
He turned back and almost cried out if it weren’t for the fact that his breathing was so labored. Even the smallest movement was excruciating. He could taste the blood in his mouth that was riding up from the knife wound. He looked around and spotted the Glock four feet away, but it might as well have been a mile. He’d never make it in time. He probably wouldn’t make it at all. Every move set his nervous system on fire. If he stayed still he’d be able to die painlessly.
Andy was more annoyed than grateful when Julian’s voice popped into his head saying, “there’s never a good enough reason to stop trying”.
“Fuck you and this Obi-Wan bullshit Jules”, Andy whispered to himself, “you’ve never been shot, stabbed and dropped off a bridge”.
But he knew that he had to try, he knew that he had to stop Carl before he got to Melissa. He closed his eyes and thanked whatever had given him that last chance, be it fate, God, the universe or blind luck. He began pulling himself toward the Glock. Using his legs to push himself tore open the wound in his gut, using his upper body ripped at his bullet wound and broken bones…but he kept going. He didn’t scream, he didn’t have the air in his lungs, he couldn’t have screamed if he wanted to…but he was reduced to tears from the moment he set out. Soon he heard Carl approaching, he’d finally found the steps.
“There you are Mr. Maureau”, Carl called out with a small laugh, “I was beginning to think that you had suddenly made a miraculous recovery and walked away. You are a troublesome one, not so easily dispatched after all”.
Andy shut his eyes against the pain and quickened his pace, finally reaching the Glock. He slipped the bullet into the chamber and released the slide. He coughed again, spewing up more blood. His ribs and arm hurt so much that he thought he might black out from the pain. He was face first in the dark and all Carl could make out was a shape writhing around in the blackness.
“Would that you had been in our employ, we could certainly have used a man with your brand of brute tenacity. Don’t worry about the woman, when I find her…I will make it quick. Now, I hate to kill and run, but I do believe we will soon have some unwanted company. Any last words?” Carl asked as he came up behind Andy.
“Yeah”, Andy said as he turned on to his back, “Al says hi”. Andy raised the Glock and took the shot. It had taken everything he had left, but his aim was true and the bullet hit Carl right between the eyes. A look of surprise was etched on his face in that single moment while his lifeless body stood straight up…just before he crumpled to the ground like a bag of sticks. Andy’s hand fell to the ground and he closed his eyes, “that’s two I owe you buddy”, he said as he thought of Allen. With his work done, he allowed himself to drift away…
He didn’t know how long it had been, but he began regaining consciousness when he felt someone slapping at his face and talking to him.
“Wake up, wake up! Baby, please please please, come on, you have to wake up!” Melissa cried at Andy. She was cradling him on her lap and slapping at his face repeatedly. “Don’t you fucking leave me! Not again! Wake up, WAKE UP!” She screamed hysterically.
He was able to open his eyes just long enough to see her face. “It’s okay M, it’s better like this”, Andy said drowsily and closed his eyes again.
“No no no, look”, Melissa said urgently, “Jack is here, you have to wake up, they’re going to put you in the ambulance, they’re going to take you and fix you up and you’ll be good as new. Please Andy! Baby please, come on!”
Melissa didn’t let up, but it didn’t matter to him anymore, her voice just faded away. He was cold, so very cold…and he couldn’t feel a thing. He was happy that he was in her arms, happy that she was there in the end. He was happy that she was safe because he’d saved her…he slept.
Epilogue
One year later…
It was a sunny day, the air was crisp and the autumn leaves had just begun to pave the roads in the neighborhood. It was a good day for a ride, so that’s what Jack was doing. He was taking it slow. The sun was on his back, the wind was on his face and the purr of his bike was the sound of perfection. Everything felt right with the world. He passed house after house as he cruised along the roads that he’d ridden for as long as he could remember.
