Joe Lansdale - Lost Echoes

Who the fuck was this guy? Looked like he’d caught his fucking face in a lawn mower.

Damn. He had been right. There was some shit going down, and here he was, locked in the trunk of a car. By a dog, no less.

But he did have his phone. He could call someone.

But, shit, the police? Chief would have that all sewn up.

Let’s see. Who did he know?

Not much of anybody anymore.

Harry’s mother.

What the fuck was her phone number? He could call information. Her name was Wilkes, he knew that. He could figure it out, maybe she could help him. Then he’d have to explain everything going on, scare the shit out of her.

Then again, there was that limited-air thing….

Sounds.

Someone was opening a door of the car.

The sergeant, after stomping Harry’s phone and giving him another love tap with his gun, took Harry’s keys and went out.

Harry, when he was able, moved to the couch near Kayla. He sat there rubbing the back of his head. The chief pulled a chair up close to Harry and sat down, draping his gun hand over one knee, letting the automatic dangle.

Kayla, lips trembling, looked at Harry. “I’m so sorry. I wasn’t as tough as I thought.”

Harry could see the spots on her breast clearly now. They were dark and raw. He reached out and touched her knee. “It’s okay. Really. You couldn’t have done anything else.”

“You are one understanding son of a bitch,” the chief said. “Me, I’d want to beat her with a goddamn chair leg. Just break it off and go to work. Want to know something? None of this had to happen, you know. What we did long ago, it was a drunk thing. Your father was with us, Kayla. He wanted to get him some too, but then he got cold feet. Chickenshitted out. Sobered up and then felt like he was better than me and Pale. Got him a conscience. Which, considering he was fucking around with every stray piece of tail he could find, wives, daughters of people he knew, was kind of a hoot. And we’d backed him up on that rape thing. Shit, he didn’t rape that woman. She was willing. Your dad, he was a cocksman. I’ll give him that. He could talk one of God’s own female angels out of a piece of ass, get her to suck and swallow. He was that kind of guy. Smooth as a Slurpee.”

“He didn’t murder anyone,” Kayla said. “He didn’t rape that woman. He wasn’t like you. And I don’t believe that was the only time with you.”

“You want to know something?” the chief said. “You might be right. I’ve done some bad things.”

“You’re doing a bad thing now,” Harry said.

“This is about survival.” The chief leaned back in the chair and studied Harry for a long moment, said, “What I want to know is this: How’d you know what happened in that shelter? Out there on Humper’s Hill…. Yeah, Kayla told me all about it. Between cigarette burns. She tells me it’s visions. But that’s bullshit, isn’t it? You know some other kind of way, don’t you? Some witness told you, didn’t they?”

“It’s just like she said,” Harry said.

“No, it isn’t. I don’t buy that for a minute.”

“That’s all I can tell you, because it’s the truth.”

“There’s someone else saw us, isn’t there? Some witness.”

Harry shook his head.

The chief leaned forward and struck Harry a sharp blow across the jaw with the back of his hand. Then he put the automatic against Harry’s forehead. “You ought to just go on and tell us. No use being brave now. What’s gonna happen is gonna happen, but it could happen quicker. You know, you pull a fish out of the water, you can let it die gasping for air on the bank, or you can get it over quick with a sharp blow, a cut. You want to be that gasping fish?”

“I’m telling you the truth.”

“I could make it tough on the girl instead of you. Would that help you talk?”

“If I knew anything, believe me, I’m not that brave, I would have talked already. You think someone was hiding inside that little shelter watching? You really think that?”

The chief pulled the gun back and let it rest across his knee again. Harry thought about jumping him. It might be the thing to do, take his chances here.

The chief got up and walked across the room, leaned against the wall, the automatic hanging by his side. Harry realized his chance was over.

“Sounds, huh?”

Harry nodded.

“That’s some wacky crap. Makes my goddamn skin crawl thinking about that kind of woo-woo shit…Whatever. We’re gonna have to get it over with. There’s a late movie I want to record. Got it all set up, but forgot to turn it on. You know something? It’s a musical. Wouldn’t think I’m a musical kind of guy, but I am. Seven Brides for Seven Brothers , that’s the one. Sound of Music . Seen it ten times. West Side Story , maybe the same.”

He looked at his watch. “I got enough time to do what we got to do and get back, push the button, so let’s get this show on the road. Sounds? The past hidden in sounds. That’s your story and you’re sticking to it?”

“It’s the truth.”

“Well, even if it isn’t, I’ll deal with any witnesses when they show. There’s a time when you got to cut your losses and just take it as it comes. Something I’ve learned about life. You should have had that lesson, just let all this shit go. Done that, you’d be banging tail tonight, having eggs and coffee tomorrow.”

The chief raised his pistol, waved it at Harry. “Untie her, help her button up there, then let’s go out the back way. Come on. Make it pronto. You got to twist the wire apart on her wrists; it’s kind of wound together there. You’ll see where it’s gathered.”

When Tad heard the car door open, he started to call out, but then he heard a voice he didn’t know say, “Goddamn, that stinks,” so he remained silent.

Pale parked his car next to Harry’s, and when he got out he looked around carefully before opening his trunk pulling out a heavy package wrapped in thick plastic.

He laid the package near the back left side of Harry’s car, opened the left rear door with Harry’s key. He looked down at the heavy plastic package, at the dark shape inside of it. He looked around the dark alley again, quickly unwrapped the package. A stink came out of the opening and nearly knocked him down.

Turning away, he took in a deep breath, then, using gloves he pulled from his coat pocket, he returned to his work, lifted Joey’s ripe body out of the wrappings and placed it on the backseat behind the driver’s spot.

“Goddamn, that stinks,” he said.

He quickly folded up the plastic, returned it to the trunk of his car, removed his gloves, dropped them inside as well, and closed the trunk lid.

Tad could hear the plastic unwrapping, feel the car shake as the door was opened and something was put on the backseat. He had an uncomfortable feeling it might be Harry’s body.

Damn. He had been right. This had been some kind of trap, and now here he was, Mr. Helpful, locked in the trunk trying to remember the goddamn Flintstones theme song.

Even with what was going on outside, he kept trying to remember the damn thing. Wasn’t there something about Bedrock in it, that being Fred Flintstone’s hometown?

Goddamn. Forget the fucking Flintstones.

Now he heard another voice.

“Get in behind the wheel. Give him the key, he’s driving.”

Tad felt the sensation of the car door opening, heard it slam. Then the doors on the other side of the car, front and back, slamming not quite in unison.

Okay. That meant at least three or four. Someone was behind the wheel, someone beside the driver, and one or two in the back. All four doors had slammed, and the car had moved in such a way to indicate that.