Jack Ketchum - The Passenger

In the distance behind them headlights crested a hill and began to roll toward them deep into the moon- drenched valley.

Emil held up his brand-new set of keys.

“Let’s move!” he said.

They’d driven a mile or so before she thought of it. Until then she’d felt empty inside as a propped-up wooden manikin sitting between Billy at the wheel and Ray riding shotgun, aware only of the straight smooth tarmac hissing beneath their wheels, the sound of flight, of movement. And maybe it was that which served to bring her back to herself and back to what she’d actually seen these people do just moments before. Because finally she thought of it.

She reached over past Ray to the glove compartment. Popped it open and reached inside. A can of de-icer. A pair of sunglasses. A cracked plastic windshield scraper. Half a roll of Five-Flavor LifeSavers.

The papers were scattered at the bottom atop the owner’s manual. There weren’t many. Insurance papers for the car. A dog-eared state map. Somebody’s old shopping list on folded paper. Penciled directions to somewhere or other tom off a yellow legal pad.

That was all.

She almost wanted to laugh but laughter was still not even remotely possible.

“He was one of those,” she said.

“Huh?” said Ray. “One of what?”

“He was somebody who kept his license and registration together. In his wallet. Did anybody get his wallet?”

She sat there and let that sink in.

Emil pounded the car seat behind her. It didn’t even startle her. She’d figured he’d be the one to get it.

“God-fucking- damn it!”

“I didn’t think so. So it was all for nothing,” she said.

“What?” Ray said. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Shit!” said Emil. “God dam mit! We gotta go back now.”

“ What?”

“We gotta go back!”

“Are you fucking out of your mind?”

“You wanted to get lost again,” she said. “Switch cars. Lose the APB. Problem is, as soon as they find him they’ll find the registration for this car in his wallet. So you didn’t get lost again, did you? It was all for nothing.”

“Jesus H. Christ.”

“You killed a five-year-old girl for nothing.”

“Turn here!” said Emil.

They were coming up on a turnoff to the right, a narrow strip of two-lane blacktop winding higher up the mountain. Billy slowed and made the turn.

“Pull up some and kill the lights, Billy. I want to see that car go by. Whoever it is can’t be very far behind. There weren’t any other turns off the road between here and there. If they didn’t stop they’ll pass us real soon. We’ve got to go back there but I want to see them pass first. That’s it. Kill the goddamn lights.”

They waited and Billy fidgeted beside her, tapping at the wheel with his thumbs to some music unheard by them while Emil, Ray and Marion watched through the rear window and Janet sat there staring straight into the dark, feeling strangely calmer now as though something had changed between them, some reconfiguration of their tableau and the odds against her. Though nothing had changed, really.

They waited and nobody came. The road behind them dark and silent.

‘They stopped, didn’t they,” said Billy. “They stopped back there. They’re viewing the whole image.” “Shut up, Billy.”

“Shit! Shit! Shit!”

“I said shut the fuck up, Billy.”

“He’s right,” said Marion. “They’d have passed by now if they hadn’t stopped. Billy’s right.”

“I know he’s right for chrissake. I just want a minute 10 figure this thing, okay?”

“What do you suggest, Counselor?” said Ray.

“ Counselor?”

“She’s a lawyer.”

“What?”

“She’s a lawyer. She told me.”

“No shit. And you knew this how long?”

“Since before we went to her place. While you and her lady friend here were out in the bushes.”

She could feel the rush of anger behind her, then just is quickly sensed him gain control again.

“You ought to have told me, Ray.”

He sighed.

“Well, we got maybe two more hours till dawn, three to the state line. So I figure the state line’s out for tonight. And yeah, she’s right. We’ve got to assume they’ll make this car once they find him. For all we know whoever the asshole is is already calling it in. So we need another car or a place or preferably both. Maggie’s is out because they know she’s with us and her place is probably out for the same reason. So your question’s pretty good, Ray. What do you fucking suggest, Counselor? And don’t say give yourselves up or I’ll figure you’re too damn stupid to be a lawyer.”

“You think I should help you?”

“I’d say it’s in your goddamn best interests, yeah.” – And she knew he thought she was considering his threat. But she wasn’t.

She was considering something else entirely.

So that when she spoke the hesitancy in her voice was phony but not the least untrue. She was a trial lawyer and part of lawyering was about performance and the correct and useful stance so she knew damn well it wouldn’t show.

“Okay… all right. I know a place. It might work anyhow.”

“So tell.”

“You ever hear of a place called Hole-in-the-Wall?” she said, and then turned toward him.

He was smiling.

The night was awash in artificial light. Police flashlights slow-arced through the scrub and field along either side of the road. Flashbulbs burst sudden and stark against the human ruins in the wagon. Six sets of headlights set to high poured off the cruisers and the Volvo of the guy who’d called it in. Alan leaned against one of those cruisers and tried not to puke.

He’d seen what was inside.

Hee was shaking like it was zero degrees out, clammy with sweat at the same time. All he kept thinking was at least she wasn’t one of them. At least that.

Frommer stubbed out his cigarette on the center line n| the tarmac and then carefully policed his butt into his jacket pocket and walked over.

Alan shook his head. “I never… Jesus, Frommer, that little girl…”

“I know,” Frommer said. “But I’ll tell you, I think we can still hope for the best here, Mr. Laymon. I don’t think we’ll find her out there. I think she’d have been in the car with these poor people. These guys don’t seem to take too much trouble hiding what they do.”

He glanced toward the car and then back to Alan.

“I told you you shouldn’t have looked,” he said. "Hell, I shouldn’t have either.”

“How far?” Ray asked her.

Ray was nervous, Emil could see that-almost as nervous as goddamn Billy driving. It wasn’t like Ray. It wasn’t the guy who could lift a wallet in plain sight or steal a car in broad daylight on a busy street. Billy, on the other hand, was probably born nervous. He wondered if maybe he should be doing the driving but then thought no, it was better back here with his arm over whatsername’s shoulder and his hand playing with her tit. Irresponsible but what the hell. They’d be all right.

“Just a few miles or so,” she said.

“They’re not gonna do this for free,” he said.

“I know,” Emil said.

“So?”

He’d already thought that out. He didn’t answer though. There was no way he was going to let that out of the bag just yet. But he knew about Hole-in-the-Wall from the joint and didn’t think it was going to be a problem. Ray obviously did. He dug into his pocket and pulled out some wadded bills and change and counted it. Emil watched him and almost had to laugh.

“I got a total of seventeen dollars and seventy-eight, cents.”

He grabbed the lawyer lady’s purse out of her lap and flipped open her wallet and started counting the cash inside. She didn’t make any effort to stop him.