Day Three
July 23, 1952
Wednesday Morning
In ten seconds River would be dead. He knew it in his heart, he knew it in his gut, he knew it in his mind. As soon as Spencer got the cuffs off Blank, he’d drag her outside and plant a bullet in River’s head right in front of her. River would no longer be a problem and Blank would be terrified into total submission from that point forward.
Spencer had been throwing glances his way every few seconds.
River wouldn’t get far if he ran.
It didn’t matter.
It was his only chance.
He muscled to his feet and forced his body into an immediate full-blown sprint.
A couple of steps, that’s all he got, before a bullet flew past his head.
“Stop or I’ll kill the girl!”
River took more steps but there was no power in them.
Then his body was at a stop.
His lungs went deep for air.
Spencer was on him in an instant, slamming the gun into River’s head and forcing him to his knees. “If it were up to me I’d kill you right now,” he said. “Here’s the deal. Listen hard because I’m only going to say it once. You’ve been retired. You won’t be getting any more jobs. I’m the new you, the new improved you. Go live your life any way you want but don’t do anything stupid. Everything that’s in your past, bury it there and bury it deep.”
The man grabbed River’s hair and tilted his face up higher.
“Here’s the important thing,” he said. “See that woman over there? Forget she exists, don’t come after her, don’t try to save her. Here’s the even more important part. Don’t come after me. Don’t make me regret that I’m following orders right now instead of splattering your stupid brains all over the ground. Be sure I never see your face again. If I even see you walking on the opposite side of the street I’m going to assume the worst. If you make even the slightest move against me anywhere at any time, I promise you that I will hunt you to the ends of the earth and take you to a hell you can’t even imagine. I already have permission to do it so consider this fair warning.”
He pulled the key to River’s cuffs out of his pocket and threw it a good distance into the brush.
“Find it, unlock yourself and have a nice life,” Spencer said.
He grabbed Blank’s hand, said “You’re coming with me,” and walked off.
Ten steps later he turned and said, “By the way, I’m not sure if I mentioned this or not, but if you do anything stupid, your little tattoo slut January is going to meet the same fate as you.”
He turned and walked.
With every step Spencer took, River realized deeper and deeper that he actually wasn’t going to die. Spencer wasn’t just playing a final sick trick on him. When the man disappeared behind the rusted hulk of a combine, River got to his feet and scrambled over to where the key was thrown.
The prairie grasses were thick.
River had watched the throw but not with as much focus as he should have. From where he stood, it could be ten feet in any direction, twenty even.
He memorized where he was, namely two steps from a moss rock half the size of a coffin. He started his search from there, ever widening in a spiraling circle.
Amazingly, he found it.
It took time, but there it was.
He got it into his fingers and found just enough twist left in his hands to get the key in the lock.
Then the cuffs were off.
He was free.
His wrists were red and raw, almost to the point of bleeding. Pain that hadn’t been there before suddenly materialized when the flesh became visible.
River rubbed the wounds.
Then he headed for the trailer.
Inside, as he suspected, was the gun he’d given Blank. He checked the chamber and found something he didn’t expect, namely every bullet had been fired except one.
Blank must have shot them off to try to attract someone’s attention.
Well it didn’t work.
Too bad.
One bullet.
One bullet.
One bullet.
River gripped the weapon with a steel fist and took off in a sprint.
He caught up with Spencer all the way back at the car, just as the man was doing a one-eighty and pulling away. He was too far to catch on foot. River had to fire, there was no other option.
The window was down.
Spencer’s head was in clear view.
The man was looking directly at him, surprised but defiant.
River raised the weapon, took aim and pulled the trigger.
As soon as he did, he knew he was off.
The next second proved he was right.
Spencer’s head didn’t explode.
The windshield didn’t shatter.
The metal didn’t ping.
River had hit nothing, nothing but air.
He pulled the trigger five more times and got only the ping of the trigger against empty shells.