The Killing Kind

CHAPTER FOUR

March 22

“You can back off now.”

Rob flinched. “Huh?”

It was the first time she’d spoken since they’d merged with the interstate traffic. Some twenty minutes of tense silence. The girl had spent most of that time sitting forward in her seat, her eyes intent on the back of the rental van. Rob knew it was a rental from the Enterprise sticker on the rear bumper. There were all sorts of questions he wanted to ask her. For instance, who were the people in the van and why was it necessary to abduct a stranger to follow them? What did she intend to do once she caught up with them? But he kept his mouth shut. Her generally hostile demeanor made it clear this was for the best. She scared the hell out of him, so much so it was almost possible to ignore how hot she was.

Almost.

She sat back in her seat now, folded her hands almost primly in her lap. “I said you can back off. Are you fucking deaf?”

They were maybe two car lengths behind the van. Rob eased off the gas and the distance quickly increased to three car lengths, then four. A blue Dodge Neon with flaking paint and stickers all over the back window changed lanes, moving into the space between the van and the Galaxie. Rob hit the clicker and started to change lanes.

“Don’t.”

Rob turned the clicker off and looked at her. “What’s the deal here? I thought you didn’t want me to lose them.”

She shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. I know where they’re going.”

Rob couldn’t help it-he laughed. “Oh, yeah? That’s funny. Because for a while there I thought it was critically important that I stay right on their fucking ass and not lose sight of them if I wanted to live.”

The girl kicked off her shoes and scooted farther down in her seat. She raised her legs and propped her feet on the dashboard. She set the gun in her lap and examined the fingernails of her right hand. The black nail polish was chipping away in places. “It was. But I’ve calmed down some. I’ll kill them later, after they get where they’re going.”

Rob looked at her feet. The socks were the kind with toes. She wiggled the toes as he stared at them. It sent a strange little tingle through him. He glanced at the road. The blue Neon was still between them and the van. “Well, thanks for not killing me. Or them. Yet.” He jerked his left hand, rattling the handcuff bracelets. “So tell me something. Say we get pulled over for some reason. Obviously any cop with more than one or two functioning brain cells would want to know why I’m cuffed to the wheel. What’s your explanation?”

She smirked. “That’s easy. It’s a sex thing.”

“Say what?”

Her smirk deepened. “A sex thing. Bondage. The cop will accept it because cops are worldly people and they know people are into all kinds of kinky shit. And you’ll play along because your only other alternative is a fucking bullet in the brain.”

Fuck, he thought.

She was right. He’d been thinking he might try a bit of subtle erratic driving to hopefully draw the attention of the police. It wouldn’t have been too difficult. During their brief time on the highway, he’d already spied several cop cruisers. A part of him had even become cautiously optimistic as he’d thought about it, but now he regretfully scratched the idea from his too-short list of potentially ass-saving schemes.

Fuck!

He sighed. “So…uh…what now?”

“We stay on the road until dark. Then we find a little motel somewhere and get a room with your credit card.”

Rob thought about that. It seemed to indicate she had no intention of killing him for at least the next several hours. Still, hot babe or not, the notion of being alone in a motel room with this girl scared the shit out of him. Christ, she’d come up to him with a gun in a public place in broad daylight. What might a girl crazy enough to do that do with him with a little bit of privacy and some time to kill? Rob tightened his grip around the steering wheel to quell the sudden tremors in his fingers, which had been triggered by the sudden conviction that he wouldn’t leave that room alive.

She looked at him. Her eyes were cold, pitiless. “You need to stop being such a nervous bitch.”

Rob grunted. “Oh. Right. Okay. I’ll work on that, but I can’t guarantee anything. I mean, go figure, right? Some crazy chick with a gun kidnaps and threatens me. Why should I be nervous?”

The girl stared at him for a long moment, her features fixed, expressionless. Rob couldn’t bear the scrutiny and decided to stare at the road instead.

“Look at me.”

It was a tone that would brook no disobedience. Icy, and carrying an unspoken promise of pain if ignored. He looked at her. “Okay. I’m looking at you. Now what?”

The girl smiled. Just a little one, a slight dimpling of the corners of her mouth. But her eyes stayed cold. “I haven’t decided about killing you yet. That’s gonna depend on a lot of things. There are some things you can do to better your odds. One of them is to do everything I tell you without question or hesitation. It’ll make things a lot easier for both of us.”

Rob nodded. “Right. Because there’s no reason a friendly little kidnapping-slash-carjacking should be anything other than a thoroughly pleasant experience for all involved.”

“The other thing you can do, the main thing at this point, is to cut the sarcasm. It’s making me want to shoot you right now and be done with it.”

Rob frowned. “You’d shoot me right now? Seriously? Doing seventy-five on the interstate, with me behind the wheel?”

The girl’s gaze didn’t waver. “That’s right.”

“You’re crazy. Fuck, you are really fucking crazy.”

“Maybe.” Her smile deepened a little. “But you should take what I’m telling you seriously.”

Rob shrugged. “Okay. Whatever.”

They continued in silence for another several minutes. The Neon stayed in front of them, but Rob soon realized he’d lost sight of the van. The girl was sitting up straight and staring straight ahead now. She had to have noticed, too. Rob briefly considered shifting lanes again and putting the pedal down in an effort to catch up to their quarry, but the girl didn’t seem concerned about this development, so he did nothing.

Unable to bear the silence any longer, he glanced at her and asked, “So where are they going?”

“Myrtle Beach. Same place we’re going.”

“Okay. Well…” Rob had turned his attention back to the road, but now he looked fully at her, astonishment evident in the twist of his features. “Myrtle Beach? That’s…”

He trailed off and glanced at the road again. The Neon swerved and nearly struck a pickup truck in the far left lane. A horn blared and the Neon jerked back into its proper lane. Then it swerved slightly again. Rob began to suspect the driver was impaired in some way. He eased off the gas pedal a bit more and put another car length between the Galaxie and the Neon.

He looked at the girl. “So if I behave, I’ll live to see Myrtle Beach? Is that what you’re saying? Because we won’t be there by sundown.”

She shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not. One way or another, you’ll find out.”

Rob didn’t press the issue any further, deciding he had no choice but to accept the answer he’d been given, which was at least vaguely hopeful. But he had some other questions. “So I guess you know these people?”

“No.”

Rob’s brow creased. “Huh. But you know where they’re going?”

“That’s right.”

“How?”

“Heard them talking about it at Starbucks. Heard everything I needed to know, down to the street address for the beach house one of their rich daddies rented for them.”

Rob hit the brake pedal as the Neon abruptly slowed down and swerved again. He slapped the palm of his uncuffed hand against the steering wheel. “Fucker!”

“Calm down.”

Rob looked at her and laughed. Once again, he just couldn’t help it. “You’re telling me to calm down? That’s rich. The crazy chick who impulsively decides to follow some rich kids several hundred miles for no apparent reason thinks I need to calm down.” He shook his head and laughed again. “That is awesome. That is fucking awesome.”

Her voice dropped to a near whisper. “There’s a reason.”

“Great. I’d like to hear it.”

Her voice remained almost inaudible as she said, “They were mean to me.”

Rob looked at her.

Her eyes were narrow slits and her lips were pooched out. The childlike pout was a forceful reminder of how very young she was. She couldn’t be any older than twenty. He felt an unexpected twinge of sympathy for her. “Look…whatever they did, and I don’t doubt they were assholes to you, but…it can’t be worth the trouble you’re going to here.”

A corner of her mouth twitched. Her hands curled into fists. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Maybe not.” He saw the way her clenched fists were shaking and almost kept his mouth shut. He didn’t want to piss her off. But he thought he had a chance of reaching her. She was a tough chick, no question, but maybe there was a softness behind the hard-core exterior. “Seriously. Please think this through. Nothing really bad has happened yet. I know you’re mad. You’re right to be mad. But maybe there’s some better way to vent that anger. Right here and now, you’re still okay. It’s not too late to head off some possibly life-ruining choices.”

That corner of her mouth twitched again. “You really don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“So help me understand.” He snapped the fingers of his free hand. “Oh! And what about your family and friends? Won’t they worry once they realize you’re missing?”

She laughed and didn’t say anything.

He shook his head. “What’s funny?”

“You are. This whole understanding-big-brother bullshit. If you knew anything about me, you’d know how stupid you’re being.”

“So tell me about yourself. Help me understand. Maybe start by telling me your name.”

“It’s Roxie. That’s r-o-x-i-e.”

“Huh. Sounds like a stripper’s name.”

“Yeah. That’s why it’s cool.”

Rob nodded. “So…Roxie…why is my attempt to reason with you stupid?”

She reached between her legs and pulled the tote bag into her lap, then talked as she rummaged through it. “Everything you think you know about me, all of your fucking little guesses, are all wrong as shit. I don’t live locally. There’s no one here to miss me. There’s no one anywhere to miss me. Not anymore.” Her hands came out of the tote bag with a pack of American Spirit cigarettes and a Zippo lighter. She lit up a cig and exhaled a cloud of smoke. “I’m not a regular girl under the surface, like you think. And I know that’s what you think. When someone hurts me, I don’t run home and write a fucking blog about it. I’m a bad bitch. A really, really bad bitch. There’s no hidden heart of gold here.” She blew out another stream of smoke, this one right at Rob. “As the stoners in that shitty Neon are about to find out.”

“Say what?”

Rob coughed and waved away smoke. He’d ignored the Neon while listening to Roxie talk, but now he focused on it again and saw that its driver’s impairment appeared to be worsening. The little car swerved yet again as Rob stared at the profusion of faded stickers advertising the owner’s politics and taste in music. Left-leaning and into punk. Though there were also Grateful Dead and Phish stickers, which seemed kind of strange. In Rob’s experience, punks and stoners rarely intermingled.

“Ugh.” Roxie made a sound of disgust. “Check that shit out. A fucking ‘Coexist’ sticker. That shit makes me wanna puke.”

Rob nodded. “Yeah. I actually agree with you on something. It’s a fucking miracle.”

Roxie grunted. “Get in the left lane. Pull up beside these fuckers.”

Rob put the blinker on and glanced at her. “What are you-?”

“Just shut up and do what I say, you fuck.”

Her face was hard again, the blue eyes projecting enough malice to stop a suicide bomber in his tracks. The transformation was alarming. For a few moments there, while she was talking about herself, she’d seemed almost like a normal person. Like a person he could even like, despite the extreme circumstances of their meeting. But the psycho part of her personality had reasserted itself. By now he knew better than to defy her when she was like this.

He pulled into the left lane and drew up alongside the Neon.

Roxie leaned out the Galaxie’s open passenger-side window and made a cranking motion with her hand. Rob craned his head to look past her and saw that there were four people in the car. All youngish, maybe midtwenties. The driver had long blond hair and a bushy beard. The girl in the passenger seat looked like a young punk. Skinny. Tattoos. The two in the back-another guy and gal-were harder to peg. They almost looked sort of straitlaced. But as Rob watched them, he saw that a fat bomber joint was being passed among the car’s passengers.

The Neon’s driver grinned goofily and cranked his window down. He stuck his head out the window and tried to say something, but the words were lost in the rushing of the wind.

Roxie leaned farther out her own window and gestured frantically at the back of the Neon. Then she cupped her hands around her mouth and put the full force of her lungs into her next words: “you need to pull over!”

The Neon’s driver frowned and glanced at the punk girl in the passenger seat. The girl shrugged. The driver nodded and looked at Roxie again, giving her a thumbs-up gesture even as he began to guide the Neon across multiple lanes of traffic, toward the road’s shoulder on the right.

Roxie looked at Rob. The hard mask was gone. She was smiling. “Pull up behind them.”

Rob put the blinker on again and did as instructed, easing the Galaxie to a slow, crawling stop behind the Neon. He stared at the back of the other car for a moment. Then he shot a confused look at Roxie. “Is there really something wrong with their car?”

Roxie reached across him and turned the key backward in the ignition. The Galaxie’s engine ground to a rumbling halt as she pulled the key from the ignition slot. “So you don’t go anywhere. Hang tight while I take care of these fucks.”

She opened the passenger-side door and began to get out.

Rob’s heart began to beat faster.

The gun was in her hand again.

She was out of the car now and walking toward the parked Neon. The Neon’s passengers were oblivious to the danger approaching them. And why wouldn’t they be? A glance in their mirrors would show a very pretty girl approaching them. And who would ever consider that a thing to fear? Of course, things might be different if any of them were sober. They might notice the gun pressed flat against her right thigh. She was almost to the car now, and Rob was close to hyperventilating. He felt he should warn them somehow. Maybe lean on the horn and jerk them out of their dope stupor for a few lifesaving moments. It might work. They might even get away.

But he’d still be stuck right here.

With a very pissed off Roxie to face-Roxie and her gun.

He placed the palm of his left hand flat against the horn pad.

It was the right thing to do.

He knew that.

And yet…there was the fear of that gun pointed at him instead.

So he hesitated.

Roxie was standing next to the Neon now. The gun was still pressed to her thigh. She leaned down and rapped the knuckles of her left hand against the passenger-side window. The punk girl turned toward her and rolled the window down. Rob opened his mouth to scream a warning, but it was already too late. Roxie’s gun hand was like a striking cobra. One moment it was still against her leg, the next nanosecond the barrel of the gun was pressed against the punk girl’s forehead. Rob heard the report of the gun and knew for sure Roxie had actually shot the poor girl in the face. There were screams from the Neon now. Then another shot. The driver slumped over. Roxie pushed the punk girl’s corpse aside and leaned farther into the car, twisting her body so that she could point the gun into the backseat. Rob heard more screams, only barely distinguishable from his own cries. The rear door on the driver’s side started to open as one of the backseat occupants tried to escape. Another bullet ended the attempt. Roxie’s body twisted again and she aimed her gun at the Neon’s last living passenger. There was a brief hesitation, almost as if she was savoring these last moments before the final kill.

There was one more scream. Another bullet cut it off. Rob saw an explosion of red against the Neon’s back window and felt bile rise into his throat. His gut churned. He was shaking and hot tears were spilling down his face. Any illusions he might have harbored about Roxie’s supposed vulnerability had been vanquished forever within the space of a few moments of extreme violence. She’d been right.

She wasn’t a regular girl.

She was pure fury.

And now, finally, he understood just how much trouble he was really in.

Roxie extracted herself from the Neon and strolled calmly back to the Galaxie. Rob stared at her. He couldn’t believe how cool and unconcerned she seemed. She was still holding the gun by her side but was making no real attempt to hide it. Cars were zipping by on the interstate. Lots of them. There were still several hours of broad daylight left. How could she be so fucking nonchalant?

Back inside the Galaxie, she reached across Rob and slid the key back into the ignition. She turned the key and the engine came to life.

Then she pressed the gun’s hot barrel against his crotch and said, “Drive.”

Just the one word.

It was enough.

Rob put the car in gear and eased back into the traffic.

Picking up speed, he glanced at the rearview mirror for one last look at the Neon. From this perspective and distance, it looked like just another stalled car. No big deal.

Roxie was laughing. “Now what was that you were saying about it not being too late or some shit? Something about choices?”

More insane laughter.

Rob’s hands tightened around the steering wheel again.

He was holding on for dear life.

Whatever little was left of it.