A Thousand Falling Crows (19 page)

She hoped he would keep walking until he fell off the edge of the earth, but she knew that wouldn't happen. He wouldn't go that far. She could still feel his eyes on her, his angry face all aglow in the orange light of the cigarette. And she was certain that he would come back for her. Just as certain that the Roman god on the front of the car was no more real than the God in the church was. He hadn't protected her, rescued her, saved her from anything. Things were worse now than they were before.

A tear streamed down her cheek, and the darkness and aloneness that she felt left her feeling more lost than she'd ever been.

Tió came back in the middle of the night with a plain black Model A Ford that was more than a couple of years old. “It's all I could find, Eddie.” The four-door sedan was missing a right front fender, and the paint was scratched up, like it had been run through a barbed wire fence day after day for the last year.

“It's a turtle, you idiot,” Eddie said, with a slap to the side of Tió's head. The crack of the slap echoed on the cool night breeze like a gunshot.

“Ouch.” Tió stepped back, rubbing his temple. “I did what you asked, Eddie. Why'd you hit me?”

“Why do you think?”

Carmen was half awake, laying in the backseat of the Buick, trying to ignore the conversation, trying to pretend it was part of a bad dream, even though she knew it wasn't. She could see the two of them standing opposite each other, silhouettes that looked like mirrors made of ash. Even in the daylight, it was hard to tell the two of them apart. Until they opened their mouths or you looked into their eyes.

“It's got a 201 CID 3.3 liter engine, and the 4 I4 transmission is a three-speed sliding gear manual. It goes real fast, Eddie. Drive it, you'll see.”

“I don't know what the hell you just said, but it's not gonna be fast enough. Not up against those new Fords the coppers are driving these days. They'll run us down in a flat second if we come up against any of 'em.”

“I can boost up the acceleration, tinker with the carburetor.” Tió quit rubbing the side of his head and stared at the car he'd brought back like it was the worst piece of junk he'd ever seen.

“I don't know why you can't do one goddamn thing right.”

“It's all I could find, Eddie. I didn't want to lead no one back here.” Tió lowered his head. “I‘m sorry, Eddie. I‘ll go get another one.”

“No,” Eddie said. “This one'll have to do for now.”

It grew silent then. Even the insects slept, tried to sleep, or waited for another outburst. But none came. The silence remained. Eddie walked around the Model A silently, like he was about to buy a new horse.

A few minutes later, Eddie slid into the backseat of the Buick, eased behind Carmen, and pulled her to him. She stirred and faked a whimpering snore. Surprisingly, it was enough to ward Eddie off, enough to keep his pants buttoned.

They slipped away from the barn in the Model A just before the horizon started to turn gray with new light. A lone robin called out in a hoarse morning voice, announcing the coming day, hoping for a response. None came, at least that Carmen heard.

The clatter of the Model A‘s engine took over everything within earshot once Eddie punched down the accelerator, propelling them down the road, away from the barn, at a quick rate of speed. Tió was right; the Ford was fast, but not as fast as the Buick had been. That car floated down the road so fast that all the air jumped out of its way and made a happy wind from its tail.

A cloud of dust roiled behind them, and Mercury, the hood ornament from the Buick, tumbled to its side and fell into Carmen's lap. She picked it and put it on the floor. It was heavier than she thought it would be.

“Be careful with that. It's our good luck charm.”

Carmen was in the passenger seat next to the door, opposite Eddie. There was miles of room between them, and the attitude was cold, even though the windows were all rolled down, pushing around hot air. Tió sat in the back, like usual. He always acted like he wasn't listening, which meant that he was.

It didn't take long for morning light to eat away at the darkness of the night. Clear blue sky pushed up in front of them for as far as the eye could see, offering a typical day, if that were possible, and a clear view of the road ahead.

Sleep had been fitful for Carmen, and she was hungry and in need of a bath. They all were. “Can we stop and get some breakfast?” Carmen asked Eddie.

He shook his head. “Not until we're out of Texas. I don't want to chance it. There's a little greasy spoon in Madge, just the other side of the state line. We'll stop there.” They were heading east on State Road 203. Madge was a few miles inside of Oklahoma.

The sun peaked over the horizon. The top curve of it looked big and red. Carmen had to look away. She knew why Eddie wanted out of Texas—it would be harder for the cops to arrest them—but she didn't want to leave all she knew behind.

“I don't like that place,” Tió said. “They always cheat us, and their gravy's always runny.”

“Nobody's gonna cheat us now, Tió. We got money and we got guns. Get somethin' else if you don't like the gravy.”

“I just want breakfast,” Carmen said. “I don't want anybody to get hurt.”

Eddie cast Carmen a hard side glance, then looked up at the rearview mirror. “Nobody's gonna get hurt. I promise.” He pushed the accelerator to the floor. The Model A lurched forward with a cough, then roared ahead.

Carmen looked over her shoulder to see what had got Eddie's attention. A black car was speeding toward them, catching up from behind, leaving a plume of dust that looked like it could have come from an explosion. Her heart began to race when she turned back to Eddie, who had a worried look on his face.

There were no flashing lights on the car, but most police cars in the Panhandle didn't have the new bubbles that some of the big-city police cars had. Some Texas Rangers still drove their own cars, so it was difficult to tell if the black car was a police car, a Ranger, or just someone in a big hurry.

“I don't want to go to jail, Eddie,” Carmen said.

“Nobody's gonna go to jail.” Eddie looked up at the rearview again, only this time he wasn't interested in the car. He looked at Tió. “Get the shotgun and be ready, all right?”

“They're getting closer, Eddie, and there's two cars, not one,” Tió said. His voice was jittery.

In the blink of an eye, the first car was nearly on their bumper. A loud, hand-cranked siren suddenly whined loudly, joining the rushing wind inside the car. The sound made Carmen's eardrums hurt.

“Push 'em back, Tió.” Eddie's eyes were glued to the road ahead. He was driving directly into the glare of the rising sun, into the promised land of Oklahoma.

The temptation to pray was strong for Carmen, a habit when things got bad. Only now the habit made her mad and sad at the same time.

“I don't want to kill no cop, Eddie,” Tió pleaded. “They hang you for that.”

“Shoot the fuckin' tire out, Tió.” It was a scream matched by the siren and the wind.

Carmen pulled her knees up on the seat, hugged them, and looked out the back window. She could see the driver of the car waving wildly, ordering them to pull over. He wore a brown felt campaign hat. The kind the county police wore.

Tió grabbed up the shotgun, leaned the barrel out the window, aimed it downward, and pulled both triggers. In a move that belied his experience and knowledge of guns, he pulled the gun inside, popped the shells out, and pushed two more inside with such ease that the whole exercise looked like it only took a second, two at the most.

The pursuing car slowed, pulled back, as the second car caught up with it. They were driving bumper to bumper. One man was giving the other an order. Tió hadn't hit the tire—he'd hit the radiator. The first car was spewing steam, losing power, falling back into a brown and white cloud of nothingness.

“We're almost there,” Eddie said.

The klaxon siren had died away. All Carmen could hear was her heart beating, matching the constant bang of the cylinders in the engine.

Eddie looked over at Carmen, pulled a pistol out of nowhere, and held the butt of it out to her. “Take it.”

She shook her head. “I‘ve never shot a gun, Eddie.”

“All you have to do is pull the trigger.”

“I don't want to.”

“You have to. Just shoot it at the same time Tió shoots his. You don't have to hit anything. They need to know we're serious.”

“I don't want to. You promised you wouldn't make me do anything I don't want to.”

Eddie dropped the gun on the seat between them, then grabbed Carmen by the collar of her dress. “You want to die? Do you want to go to prison?”

Tears streamed down Carmen's cheeks. “I want to go home.”

Tió held the shotgun in his lap. He'd quit paying attention to the road, and the car behind them. He was focused on Carmen. “I told you we didn't need no girls, Eddie.”

Nobody had time to respond. The second car had caught up to them. It rammed them from behind. The collision broke Eddie's grasp on Carmen, and she nearly fell off the bench seat.

The Model A veered wildly to the right, and Eddie had to fight with all of his strength and skill to keep the car from spinning out. “Shoot, Carmen, shoot.”

Tears and sweat rolled down her face as she watched Tió ready himself. He popped the barrel of his shotgun out the window, but didn't have time to pull the trigger.

The driver of the car pulled his trigger first. The eruption was deafening, as was the scream that came from Tió as he tumbled back into the seat. Glass shattered inside the Model A as the window exploded.

Carmen screamed and knew she had to react; it was the only way she was going to survive. She stuck the pistol out her window, closed her eyes, and pulled the trigger.

The explosion of gunpowder burned inside her nose and made her cough. When Carmen blinked open her eyes, she saw the windshield of the car behind them had shattered, and she watched in horror as the car spun out of control and slammed hard into a lone fence pole.

Eddie slapped the steering wheel and began to honk the horn. “Hello, Oklahoma. We're free! We're free!”

The fence post had been a state-line marker. Texas cops couldn't follow them into Oklahoma. They had no jurisdiction there. Clyde Barrow had made everyone aware of that.

“You all right back there, Tió?” Eddie asked as he continued to celebrate.

Carmen waited with baited breath for an answer to come from the backseat—but none did.

Somewhere in all of the mechanical madness, a rabbit had tried to dart across the road and got caught up in the melee. A wheel crushed its head and split open the animal's soft, warm belly.

Two crows had watched the whole thing from atop a power pole. They cawed in unison and descended down to the road to inspect the kill.

The first one pecked at the rabbit's eyes, while the second, the larger of the two, drove its black bill straight inside the furry creature, not stopping until it reached the kidneys. They were still warm and soft, easily pulled out of the body with a tug.