David Kessler - Mercy

“Exact — ”

They were approaching Muir Beach and looming up ahead of them was a police road block: two cars and a wagon, covering both lanes. It would be easy enough to avoid. They could just swerve round it onto the grass on either side. But the question was … how would the police react?

They must know I’m a hostage, Alex thought. They won’t shoot into the car when there’s a chance I’ll be hit.

Of course they might try to take out the tires. But that would be dangerous too. The road hugged the cliff on this next stretch. Any damage to the tires and they might lose traction and skid over the edge.

He prayed that the cops wouldn’t do anything stupid. It was too much to hope that Nat wouldn’t.

“Run it,” snapped Nat, as if to confirm Alex’s worst fear.

“Yes, Mr. Governor, I understand, but they’re approaching.”

The State Trooper in charge of the roadblock at Muir Beach had received a frantic phone call from his captain. The next thing he knew, Governor Dusenbury had been patched through and was telling him that under no circumstances was he to take any action that might endanger the lives of either person in the stolen police car.

“Okay, sir, we won’t open fire … yes, sir, we won’t even return fire.”

“Not even at the tires!” the governor added for good measure.

“We weren’t planning on shooting at the tires. We’ve got the road fully blocked and we’ve planted Stop Sticks on the grass verges by the side, in case they try and give us the sli-”

“Are you crazy? Do you know what Stop Sticks’ll do to their tires?”

“Yes, sir, but that’s the point. It won’t shred the tires. It’ll let their air out gradually.”

“But they’re gonna be hugging the cliff on a two-laner, you jackass! Do you know what’ll happen if they skid on a bend on that stretch?”

“Yes, sir, but it’s too late! We can’t move the Sticks now, it’s not safe. Oh my God, they’re swerving! They’ve gone over the sticks. Shit!”

“Goddamn! What was that!” shouted Nat.

“I don’t know, I think we went over something.”

Nat was looking back frantically.

“Are they following?”

“I don’t think so.”

“That doesn’t make sense. They usually have cars ready to pursue if the road block gets run.”

Alex was now more tense than before.

Why would they just let them run the road block and do nothing? Did that mean they had something else ahead?

“Fuck ‘em,” said Nat. “We made it.”

“For now,” Alex replied, hoping that Nat would catch the fatalism in his tone.

“We’ll get to Stinson Beach and run the car off the cliff.”

“And then what?”

Nat was silent; they both knew why. He didn’t know what he was going to do afterward. There was no getting away. Stinson Beach wasn’t so big. Even if he could force his way into someone’s house, the cops would make house to house searches. And if he stayed out in the open he could be tracked by thermal imaging. It was night and not many people were about.

However, that was Nat’s worry. Alex’s worry was keeping the car on the road. The cliff wasn’t too steep here. But it would get steeper as they approached Stinson Beach. And there were some sharp bends in the road too. The worst part was the stretch approaching Gull Rock.

And the car was already not holding as steady as he would have liked.

“What about the meeting with Dusenbury?” asked Alex, trying to engage Nat in friendly conversation once more. “Why were you so anxious to avoid him?”

“It wasn’t him I was trying to avoid. It was my mother.”

“You knew she’d be there?”

“Let’s just say I had a feeling. Dusenbury is an old family friend and I knew that mom had cancer. I may have ended up hating her, but at one time we were very close and I knew how her mind worked.”

“And you knew she was going to try and persuade Dusenbury to offer clemency?”

“I had a feeling she’d meet him because of their past relationship. I didn’t know if anything would come out of such a meeting.”

“And you hated her so much that you couldn’t bring yourself to tell her that you were alive?”

“I didn’t, I don’t think. I mean, I hated her when she turned a blind eye to the way Edgar treated me. But … toward the end … I think I’d forgiven her.”

“Then why didn’t you go to her? Tell her … tell her that you’d forgiven her?”

Alex had been hesitant to ask this. He was afraid that Nat would break completely if he had to confront the fact that he too had inflicted torment on Esther, just as Edgar and Burrow had on him. But Nat held it together and even smiled.

“Have you ever read the story ‘Wakefield’?”

“‘Wakefield’?”

“By another Nathaniel. Nathaniel Hawthorne. He’s the author I was talking about before — the one my name is a tribute to.”

“No, I haven’t read it. Wasn’t he the guy who wrote The Scarlet Letter ?”?

Nat smiled at the almost philistine way Alex had put it.

“Yes, he was the guy who wrote The Scarlet Letter . Anyway, ‘Wakefield’ was a story about a man who left his wife for no discernable reason, stayed away for years with no contact whatsoever, and then went back.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Neither do I. I mean, I do, but barely. I couldn’t possibly do justice to it. You’ll have to read it to understand it. But the point is by that stage I no longer knew why I was doing it. I just was. Yes, I blamed her for letting Edgar abuse me. But more importantly I wanted to make Burrow pay. And for that I had to stay hidden from public view. I couldn’t admit my identity to anyone … just in case word got out and blew my cover.”

Alex was making a sharp right followed by a sharp left as the road took them across a small gully. Alex felt the vehicle shake awkwardly and realized in that moment that the tires were losing pressure — had already lost a lot of pressure. He realized what must have happened at the road block. The cops had used Stop Sticks. That’s what he had gone over when he swerved onto the grass verge at the last second.

“It’s a pity you had to stay away like that,” said Alex. “If you’d met Burrow — toward the end — you might have seen him differently.” Alex saw the pained look on Nat’s face. “I’m not trying to mitigate what he did to you. But he had changed.”

“I know. I suppose that living in fear of death was punishment enough for him. But it’s like … in that moment when he raped me … I swore that he’d pay with his life. And even though I mellowed over the years, I didn’t mellow enough to let him live.”

“And what about Jonathan? You didn’t tell him either.”

“No, but he found out. That’s why he came to the office yesterday.”

“How did he find out, by the way?”

“They showed some footage of the two of us coming out of the Supreme Court after the certiorari hearing. That was when they were reporting Dusenbury’s offer.”

“Which you leaked.”

“Which I leaked. He thought he recognized me, but he wasn’t sure. That’s why he came to the office. He wanted to see me in person to make sure. But I wasn’t there so he hung round and ambushed Juanita when she went out for lunch. Then he walked her back to the office and that’s when he saw me. That was when he knew for sure.”

“Did he say anything?”

“No, but we locked eyes and I knew that he knew and he knew that I knew.”

“And is that how you got the spectator’s pass?”

“Exactly. Later during the day he tried to call me. He didn’t have my cell phone number so he called the office. But Juanita kept answering, so he kept hanging up. She thought it was a crank caller, so I said I’d answer. When I did, he spoke. He told me that we had to meet.”