End of Days (10 page)

“Stay here,” Ramsey said to Gordon.

“Why?”

“Just do as you’re told. Cover me.”

“Are you expecting trouble?” Gordon asked.

“I don’t know what to expect, and that’s the trouble.”

Ramsey undid the flap on his holster, which prompted Gordon to remove his weapon completely and cradle it in his lap. The shotgun sat in the holder between the two men. Ramsey pulled out two shotgun shells from his jacket and handed them to Gordon. “Load it when I get out. Have it ready.”

The doors of the black car opened, and three people—two large men in dark clothing and darker glasses and a young woman—got out. Ramsey thought they looked like military men, or secret service, or somebody’s private security. As society broke down and crime became more common, those people with money and power had started to hire their own security. Some people even had their own little armies—militia.

Ramsey looked anxiously at the two men. If anything was going to be dangerous to him, it was them. They were big and solid, and there was a precision about the way they
moved, even about the way they stood. They were standing still but he knew that their eyes, hidden behind those glasses, were looking all around, scanning, assessing, watching. He knew their type. He
was
their type.

The woman was young, with blonde hair, and she looked very proper, like an elementary school teacher. He knew
she
wasn’t here to protect them, so they were the muscle for her. She was in charge of whatever was going to happen.

“That’s my cue. Be ready.”

Ramsey got out of the car and slammed the door closed behind him.

“Hello,” he called out.

“Do you have him?” the woman asked. “Is that him in the back seat?”

“Could be. Who are you?” Ramsey asked.

“It doesn’t matter who I am, Sergeant Ramsey,” she replied.

In that statement she’d at least identified that she was who he was looking for.

“It’s him. Have a look.”

Ramsey walked to the back door of the car. She followed, and one of the bodyguards came along with her. The second drifted out to the right, to be in a position to watch them and to keep an eye on Gordon in the squad car.

The woman looked in through the window, and Billy quickly turned away so she couldn’t see his face. He wasn’t going to make this easy. The door popped open.

“Don’t you know it’s not nice to turn your back on a lady?” Ramsey asked.

Billy turned partway around.

“Are you William Phillips?” she asked.

“Who?” Billy asked.

“It’s him,” Ramsey said. “Look at the picture.”

Ramsey offered his photo, but Billy noticed that she was already holding one. Where was everybody getting these pictures?

“It looks like him,” she said.

“Get out of the car, kid.” Ramsey reached in and grabbed Billy by the arm, pulling him out of the vehicle.

Billy looked around. This was the moment that he’d been waiting for. He was out of the car and had to assume that any second he would be shoved in the back of the other car. The only problem was that he now had five people to evade, and his hands were still cuffed behind his back.

“This is for you,” the woman said, handing Ramsey an envelope.

“What’s in it?”

“Directions to where you will find what has been promised for successfully completing your assignment,” she said.

“How do I know it’s really there?”

“It is. Besides, how do we know this is the person we want?” she asked.

“He is the—”

“I’ve never even heard of this Phillips guy,” Billy snapped, cutting Ramsey off.

“Shut up, kid,” Ramsey said. “They wanted you alive, but they didn’t say anything about being unhurt.”

“Nobody is going to hurt you,” the woman said.

She sounded sincere, but that didn’t mean anything.

“I guess we’ll just have to trust each other,” the woman said, turning her attention back to Ramsey.

“Is that why you brought those two?” Ramsey asked, gesturing to her two escorts. “Because you trust us?”

“Would you come out here unarmed?” she asked.

Ramsey shrugged. “You’ve got a point.”

“We’ll take him from here,” she said.

One of the big guards took Billy by the arm and started to lead him away.

“Nice and easy,” he said to Billy, “and don’t even think about doing anything stupid.” His fingers dug into Billy like Vice-Grips, and his jacket fell open to reveal the butt of a gun. That should have been a threat, but now Billy simply knew what he was dealing with—something this guy didn’t. If he could get a hand free he’d soon show them.

The second man opened one of the back doors but didn’t even look at them. Instead he was watching Ramsey and Gordon. So much for trusting each other. Billy’s head was eased down to get him into the car. He was then pushed to the far side, so that he sat behind the driver’s seat. Billy noted that there was no screen separating the back from the front. His escort came in beside him, closing the door.

Billy watched through the windshield. The woman and Ramsey shook hands, and then Ramsey looked at him, gave a little wave, and climbed into his vehicle. The police car turned and sped off, leaving behind a small cloud of dust.

The woman climbed into the passenger side and the other man got behind the wheel. That was good. It meant that
his attention would be on the road and not on the prisoner.

Billy started to look around. His best window of opportunity had closed, but he still needed to find a way out.

He was in a large, expensive luxury car. The seats were plush and the windows were all tinted so darkly that he doubted anybody on the outside could even see that he was in there. He noticed that the back door had handles, unlike the police car. Even if they were moving, he could open the door and drop out—if only his hands were free. That had to be the first step.

“How about taking these cuffs off?” Billy asked.

“No can do,” the man beside him replied.

“I wasn’t talking to
you
. I was talking to her,” Billy said.

“Not yet,” she answered quietly.

“Come on, what are you afraid of? You have two gorillas carrying pieces to stop me from doing anything. I promise I won’t overpower them. Please, these things are digging and hurting me,” he pleaded. “Didn’t you tell me that nobody was going to hurt me, that we had to learn to trust each other?”

She turned around to look at him. She looked sympathetic. Billy tried to look innocent and pathetic.

“Well, what harm could it do?” Billy asked.

“I advise against it” was the reaction from his seatmate.

“I already told you I wasn’t talking to you. Why don’t you leave the thinking to people who are paid to have brains?”

“I think we can safely—”

“We were told not to take any unnecessary chances,” the man snapped, cutting her off. She didn’t look pleased to be interrupted.

“And you think that’s taking an unnecessary chance? Even when you’ve got two men with guns guarding one kid?” Billy asked. “You really think you and your guns can’t guard me unless my hands are cuffed behind my back? That probably says more about you and your partner than it does about me.” He paused and turned to the woman. “Or it says that you’re really not in charge.”

“I’m in charge,” she said.

“Yeah, I can see that.” He snorted, then took a different tone. “Sorry … I’m sure you are in charge, and I’m sure they’re really good at what they do. You just have to understand … I’m scared, and these do hurt. They’re really digging into me … badly.”

“Take off the cuffs,” she said.

“He won’t be happy if we mess up,” the escort said.

“It’s my decision and I’ll deal with any consequences,” she said. “Here are the keys.” She handed them to the guard in the back seat. She had gotten them from Ramsey when Billy was being placed in the back of the car.

“Turn around,” the guard said to Billy. He fiddled with the keys and the first cuff popped off, quickly followed by the second. He dropped the cuffs to the floor.

Billy brought his hands forward and examined them. There were red marks on both wrists. The cuffs
had
been cutting into him. He rubbed his wrists and flexed his fingers. It was important to get the blood flowing into them again.

“There, does that feel better?” she asked.

“Yeah, better, thanks.”

“I suppose introductions are in order. I’m Dr. Miller, but you can call me Amanda.”

This was where he was supposed to announce that he was William—Billy—Phillips, but he didn’t. He didn’t say anything.

“I know you must be scared, but believe me, there is nothing to be afraid of. You’ll see. It will all be explained to you in time. I’m sorry we have to worry you needlessly until then.”

“Right now I’m more worried about going to the washroom. I haven’t gone to the can since I got up this morning. Can we pull over so I can go?” he asked pleadingly.

“He’ll have to wait until we’ve arrived at a secure location,” the driver said. “ETA is less than thirty minutes.”

“If that means I can’t go for thirty minutes that’s too long. I have to go badly. If we don’t stop I’ll end up messing my pants.”

“They’re your pants, do what you want,” his seatmate said.

“Do you think this is a joke?” Billy demanded. “Come on, just pull over and let me go on the side of the road. How can I run away? You have guns! Do you think I can outrun a bullet?”

“It’s not
our
bullets we’re worried about,” the driver said. “This area isn’t secure, and we don’t have any backup. We keep driving.”

“I’m sorry,” Dr. Miller noted. “You’ll be able to go once we reach the plane.”

“Plane!”

“Yes, we have a jet waiting,” she replied.

The vehicle slowed down as it rounded a corner. Suddenly Billy sprang forward, and in a flash he had an arm around the guard’s neck. In his right hand, almost as if by magic, there was a thin blade, light glinting off the sharp edge.

“Stop the car!” Billy screamed. “Let me out or I cut him open like a fish!”

Silence. The car rolled on.

“I’m not bluffing!” he yelled. “Stop the car or he’s dead!” He tightened his grip around the guard’s neck.

“Please be careful,” Dr. Miller said calmly. “If he hits a bump you’ll kill him.”

“If you stop the car there won’t be any bumps!”

“Slow down,” Dr. Miller said to the driver.

“I said stop the car, not slow it down!” Billy threatened.

“Billy, let’s talk this through before you do anything rash. This could cost more than just his life.”

“I’m as good as dead already. Stop the car, now!” Billy said. There was no bluff in what he was saying. That was how he felt.

“Sorry, we can’t do that.” Her voice, her whole demeanour, was calm—too calm. It made Billy feel even more anxious.

Suddenly the guard spoke, his voice strained by the pressure of Billy’s arm against his neck. “If you’re going to cut my throat, just do it. You’re not getting away whether I’m dead or alive.”

“He’s right,” Amanda said.

It was then that Billy saw she was holding a gun.

“If you shoot me, he’s dead.”

“I’m dead anyway,” the guard said. “Now or in twelve months … what does it matter?”

“I can do it, you know,” Billy said, a slight flutter in his voice. “Don’t think that I won’t.”

“We know you could do it if you wanted, Billy. We hope you won’t. But either way, nothing will change. You have to come with us. You need us, and ultimately, we need you. You’re very valuable,” she reassured him quietly.

Billy felt the blade in his right hand, felt a trickle of sweat running down his side, and felt his forearm against the man’s windpipe. He could kill this man in an instant. Maybe he could even go for his gun, and knock away her gun before she shot. He knew he could kill, but could
she?

“Billy, you’re going to have to trust somebody, sometime. I’m that person, and this is the time.”

Being able to read people, figure them out, was what had kept Billy alive for so long. But this, these people … he couldn’t figure any of it out.

“Just give me the blade,” Miller said again. Her voice was so calm, her expression so friendly—except, of course, she was still holding a gun.

Billy released his grip. The guard sputtered and coughed as he tried to catch his breath. Billy took the razor, grabbing it gently by the blade, and passed it to her handle first.

“Thank you,” she replied.

“I just want to know what this is all about,” Billy gasped. “Please tell me.”

“You’ll be told everything, but first you have to rest.”

“Rest? There’s no way I can—” Billy jumped as he felt a sharp jab in his arm. He looked down. The guard, freed just seconds before, had plunged a needle into his shoulder.

“You said to trust you and … and …” He slumped down in the seat, unconscious.

“Sorry about that, Billy,” Miller said, talking to herself. Then she asked the guard, “How long will he be out?”

“Four or five hours. He’ll come to just about the same time the plane touches down.”

“I guess this is the best thing,” she said. “Do you think he would have killed you?”

“Yes,” the guard said. “He would have if you hadn’t talked him down. You saved my life.”

“If I’d listened to you in the first place and kept those cuffs on none of this would have happened,” she said.

“I should have searched him when he got in the car, and there’s no way he should have been able to get the jump on me. I’m getting lazy, or maybe it’s just spending time around the other kids in the project.”

“They’re certainly
nothing
like him,” she agreed. “Nothing at all.”

“The only thing those kids might pull on you is a calculator,” he said. “
This
kid I like.”

She couldn’t help but laugh. “He just tried to kill you!”

“No,” he said. “He didn’t
try
to kill me. He
threatened
to kill me … and he didn’t. He could have, but he didn’t. Besides, at least
him
I understand.”

He sat quietly, watching Billy. Billy was still in a sleep-like state, or at least that’s how it looked. The guard wasn’t going to underestimate him again. Besides, he wanted to make sure he was still all right. Those drugs he’d shot into him were pretty powerful, and while they were harmless to most people they could have side effects for others. Side effects like not breathing. He’d been checking on Billy every fifteen minutes throughout the flight.