Silent Night

22

Michael was so sleepy. All he wanted to do was lean against Gran and close his eyes. But he couldn’t do that yet, not until he was sure that Brian was okay. Michael struggled to suppress his growing fear. Why didn’t he grab me if he saw that lady pick up Mom’s wallet? I could have run after her and helped him when he got caught by that guy.

The cardinal was at the altar now. But when the music stopped, instead of starting to offer Mass, he began to speak. “On this night of joy and hope…”

Off to the right, Michael could see the television cameras. He had always thought it would be cool to be on television, but whenever he had thought about it, the circumstances he envisioned had to do with winning something or with witnessing some great event. That would be fun. Tonight, when he and Mom were on together, it wasn’t fun.

It was awful to hear Mom begging people to help them find Brian.

“… in a year that has brought so much violence to the innocent…”

Michael straightened up. The cardinal was talking about them, about Dad being sick and Brian being missing and believed to be with that escaped killer. He was saying, “Brian Dornan’s mother, grandmother, and ten-year-old brother are with us at this Mass. Let our special prayer be that Dr. Thomas Dornan will recover fully and that Brian will be found unharmed.”

Michael could see that Mom and Gran were both crying. Their lips were moving, and he knew they were praying. His prayer was the advice he would have given Brian if he could hear him: Run, Brian, run.

Now that he was off the Thruway, Jimmy felt somewhat relieved, despite a gnawing sense that things were closing in on him.

He was running low on gas but was afraid to risk stopping at a station with the kid in the car. He was on Route 14 south. That connected with Route 20 in about six miles. Route 20 led to the border.

There was a lot less traffic here than on the Thruway. Most people were home by now anyway, asleep or getting ready for Christmas morning. It was unlikely that anyone would be looking for him here. Still, he reasoned, the best thing to do was to get on some of the local streets in Geneva, find someplace like a school where there’d be a parking lot, or find a wooded area, somewhere he could stop without being noticed and do what he had to do.

As he took the next right-hand turn, he glanced in the rearview mirror. His antennae went up. He thought he had seen headlights reflected there as he made the turn, but now he didn’t see them anymore.

I’m getting too jumpy, he thought.

A block later it suddenly was like they’d sailed off the edge of the earth. As far as he could see, there were no cars ahead. They were in a residential area, quiet and dark. The houses were mostly unlit, except some of them still had Christmas-tree lights glowing from bushes and evergreens on the snow-covered lawns.

He couldn’t be sure if the kid was really asleep or faking it. Not that it mattered. This was the sort of place he needed. He drove six blocks and then saw what he was looking for: a school, with a long drive-way that had to lead to a parking area.

His eyes missed nothing as he carefully searched the area for any sign of an approaching car or someone out walking. Then he stopped the car and opened the window halfway, listening intently for any hint of trouble. The cold instantly turned his breath to steam. He could hear nothing but the hum of the Toyota ’s engine. It was quiet out there. Silent.

Still, he decided to drive around the block one more time, just to be sure he wasn’t being followed.

As he put his foot on the accelerator, and as the car slowly moved forward, he kept his gaze glued to the rearview mirror. Damn. He’d been right. There was a car behind him, running without lights. Now it was moving, too. The lights from a brilliantly lit tree reflected on its rooftop dome.

A squad car. Cops! Damn them, Jimmy swore under his breath. Damn them! Damn them! He tromped on the gas pedal. It might be his last ride, but he’d make it a good one.

He looked down at Brian. “Quit pretending. I know you’re awake,” he shouted. “Sit up, damn you. I shoulda ditched you as soon as I was out of the city. Lousy kid.”

Jimmy floored the accelerator. A quick look in the rearview mirror confirmed that the pursuing car had also speeded up and was now openly following him. But so far there seemed to be only one of them.

Clearly Cally had told the cops he had the kid, he reasoned. She’d probably also told them that he said he’d kill the kid first if they tried to close in on him. If that cop behind him knew that, it explained why he wasn’t trying to pull him over right now.

He glanced at the speedometer: fifty… sixty… seventy. Damn this car! Jimmy thought, suddenly wishing he had something more powerful than a Toyota. He hunched over the wheel. He couldn’t outrun them, but he still might have a chance to get away.

The guy chasing him didn’t have backup yet. What would he do if he saw the kid had been shot and pushed out of the car? He’d stop to try to help him, Jimmy reasoned. I’d better do it right away, he thought, before he has time to call in help.

He reached inside his jacket for his gun. Just then the car hit a patch of ice and began to skid. Jimmy dropped the gun in his lap, turned the wheels in the direction of the skid, then managed to straighten the car just inches away from crashing into a tree at the edge of the sidewalk.

Nobody can drive like I can, he thought grimly. Then he picked up the gun again and released the safety catch. If the cop stops for the kid, I’ll make it to Canada, he promised himself. He released the lock on the passenger door and reached across the terrified boy to open it.