Scarcity (Jack Randall #3) (24 page)

F
ifty minutes later they stood over the boy again. Now both pupils were blown and his face still had a prominent droop on one side. They had watched him closely after the tPA had been administered. So far he had not shown any signs of hemorrhage. He had not regained consciousness either, and the doctor was both dismayed and thankful at the same time. They watched as he pinched the boy’s legs first and then his arms without getting a response.

“We’re going to give him one chance. If he fails either test, I’m going to pronounce him and take him off the vent. Anybody have any problem with that?”

His team shook their heads all around. As much as they had invested in saving the boy, they knew when they had lost.

The doctor moved to the head of the bed and grasped the boy’s head in his hands. They all watched the boy’s eyes as his head was slowly rotated left and right. The eyes moved from side to side like a child’s doll. It was an indication of severe brain injury and they frowned at the result. Ed joined the group in time to see the boy’s eyes.

“His blood pressure’s still rising, Doc, his inter-cranial pressure’s gotta be pretty high.”

The doctor just nodded in reply. “This will tell us right here. We’ll give him forty seconds.”

He reached out and twisted the vent tubing off the endotrachial tube. The vent immediately alarmed before the anesthetist turned it off. They watched silently as they waited for the boy to take a breath on his own. After a long wait, the boy made no effort, and the doctor shook his head as he hooked the tubing back up. A hint of blood began to show flowing from the chest tube. The doctor sighed when he saw it.

“That’s it, I’m calling him. Time of death: 1120. Pull the IVs and the chest tube.” He nodded toward the Major. “He’s all yours now.”

“I got him.”

The team left one by one until it was just the two of them. The Major watched as Ed removed the equipment and stowed it. Thankfully he removed the vent last. Maybe he was reluctant to, but either way it worked to the Major’s favor. Finally, he disconnected the tube. He watched for a moment, but the boy stayed as still as he had before. Ed pulled a sheet over the boy’s head before he kicked the brake loose on the bed and rolled him out into the aisle.

“Look, he’s dead. No doubt about it, but his heart may go on for a few minutes. Make sure his pulse is absent before you wrap him up.”

“Okay. Strong heart on the little guy, huh.”

“Yeah, we all thought that’s what would pull him through. Not today though.”

“I better get him ready.”

“Right.”

The Major pushed the boy down the ward and through the double doors. Once they had swung shut behind him, he quickened his pace until he burst through the doors of the morgue. The mortician locked the door behind him and then felt for a pulse at the boy’s neck.

“Thready, but still there. Let’s move him. Gently, we can knock his heart into an arrhythmia real easy right now.”

“Then quit talking and let’s go.”

Lining up the bed next to the stainless steel table they quickly slid the boy across and connected the tubing to a small transport vent they had already programmed. The mortician quickly clamped his head in the block before reaching for the scalpel. The Major turned his back on the scene and began working on the funeral wrappings. The sounds alone were bad enough. He didn’t need to see it too.

The mortician worked quickly. The chest was opened with a jet of blood from the severed arteries. The sternal saw buzzed and the grinding noise climbed up the Major’s spine. He did his best to ignore it as he readied the funeral wrap.

•      •      •

Jimmy tugged at the overalls, trying to get them to fit better. While Manuel’s seemed to fit perfectly, Jimmy had always been a little wide in the shoulders. The boots were rubbing his feet wrong, also, as they were only hours old and the leather was still stiff. He glanced at his wrist to check the time, but saw only a tan line. He had been forced to give up his Rolex as it would not fit the role he was attempting to portray at the moment. On top of all that, he had a headache from the sunglasses they had quickly bought. His were too tight.

The truck jerked to a stop as Manuel had not yet learned the sensitivity of the brakes. This was the worst part. Every time they were forced to stop, the smell from the back caught up with them. Jimmy’s nose wrinkled as the stench of fresh garbage permeated the interior.

“Oh yeah, that’s some ripe stuff, huh?”

Jimmy glowered at his partner’s laughing face. For some reason he was tolerating the smell with his usual twisted sense of humor. Jimmy just shook his head and did his best to ignore him. His nose wrinkled involuntarily while he glared at the stoplight, they seemed to take forever to change today. Jimmy vowed this would be his first and last day as a garbage man.

“Where do we start?”

“If it’s time, we start as soon as we round the corner,” Jimmy replied.

“You see the other crew?”

“No, and I hope we don’t. They were told to skip a street and that’s all. I’m sure they know not to ask any questions.”

“Paid?”

“By my friend.”

“That’s a strong message right there.”

“That it is. What time you got?”

Manuel stole a glance at the dash clock as they rolled through a yellow light. He gunned the diesel engine to make it.

“Almost 7:30.”

Jimmy performed some quick mental math before replying.

“Let’s go.”

Manuel turned at the next light and doubled back the way they had come. Within ten minutes they approached the corner Jimmy had mentioned. The truck came to a jerking halt in front of the first house.

“Let’s do this.”

They both swung out of the open cab and walked to the houses on both sides of the street. Fetching the garbage bins, they rolled them quickly to the rear of the truck and fed them into the jaws of the dumper. Manuel worked the controls, and the hydraulic arm clamped the bin between its jaws before raising it up and over the top of the truck and dumping its contents inside. The smell rose to new heights as it was stirred up by the fresh arrival, and Jimmy cleared his nose forcefully in protest. He rolled his bin back up the driveway and deposited it back where he had found it. He took his time walking back and looked up the street toward the target. While over a block away, he couldn’t see any changes from the last time they were there. No new cars out front. Nothing.

He arrived back to the truck just as his partner put it back in gear. The smell left for a brief period while they moved another house closer. The brakes squealed loudly as they stopped, but there was no way to make a stealth approach in the truck. They repeated the process on the next two houses, and this time Manuel was forced to pause for a passing car. He tugged the hat on his head lower as it passed to hide his face, but it proved to be a working mom on her way to drop off the kids before hurrying on to the office. She was more interested in the phone pressed to the side of her head than the garbage man on the curb. Manuel smiled as she passed. He was on a suburban street in broad daylight, yet he was invisible. His partner was a very clever man. This was going to work.

“Man does that
stink
,” Jimmy commented as he worked the controls. “Both of the last porches have been up to about here on my chest. I think we can leave it mounted just like we got it.”

“Good, I got a good look at the house, no changes that I can see.”

“All right, let’s go.”

They performed the same task four more times until they reached the house. Jimmy watched the window for any sign that it was still occupied. The noise of the truck guaranteed that their arrival would not go unnoticed. He just hoped they were not too late. As he gripped the handle to swing himself out of the cab, he was rewarded by the curtain covering the front window moving an inch. He checked the smile that tried to appear on his face before walking up the drive. Keeping his head down, he moved directly to the two garbage bins stowed against the side of the porch. Forcing himself not to look at the windows, he walked them quickly to the back of the truck. Manuel had already released the strap holding the new bin and placed it on the street out of view of the house. Jimmy loaded the full one and worked the controls while Manuel returned with his bin from across the street.

“They’re still there. I saw some movement.”

“I plugged in the battery. It’s ready to go.”

Swapping the new bin for the one he had fetched from the house, he rolled them behind him back up the driveway. The extra weight of the bin they had altered was evident. Jimmy was counting on them not to move anything other than the lid like most people. The altered bin also had the lid glued shut. He hoped they wouldn’t force it and instead just not fight it and use the other bin. Spending an extra second, he made sure the camera in the bin would have a good view of the front door, before turning and walking back to the truck. There he was forced to delay in the cab and breathe in the stench while his partner returned the bins on his side of the street. He wondered if he still had a gun aimed at him while he counted the number of houses left on the street before they reached the next corner. Too damn many. He couldn’t stomach the smell for very much longer. He looked for his partner in time to see him swing into the cab.

“Done?” Manuel asked.

“It’s in place.”

“Good. How many more houses?”

“Five.”

Manuel smiled at the quick reply.

“I knew you’d know.”

“Just get this rolling cesspool moving, will you? I need ten showers and a bath already.”

Manuel cackled as he dropped the truck in gear. It jerked forward for another fifty feet before stopping again. Jimmy cursed his partner’s good humor as he walked up another driveway. Sometimes he was insufferable.

•      •      •

Jake watched through the window as Jimmy and Manuel made their way down the street. He had almost parted the curtain with the barrel of the gun in his fist, but caught himself and switched hands first.

“Same guys?” Charlie asked him from the hallway where he had just emerged.

“Hell, I don’t know. They’re garbage men. They all look alike in that damn jumpsuit thingy they wear. They didn’t seem to be interested in the house.”

Jake turned from the window and walked to the kitchen to join his partner. The TV droned as it spewed out an early morning weather report.

“Anything happen last night?”

“No, just a lot of boring television. One good movie though.
The Usual Suspects.
I’ve seen it a hundred times and still love it.”

“Well the daytime TV isn’t much better. I’m starting to think you were smart taking the night shift. You get the place without the shithead around. Me? I get him
and
Oprah. It’s a wonder I haven’t killed us all yet.”

“Yeah, well I’m gonna hit the sack before he wakes up. If Lenny calls, tell him to bring some good movies with him next time.”

“He texted me this morning. Actually, the bastard woke me up. We’re moving tomorrow, sometime in the morning he says. I guess the Marines can watch over Angel for awhile.”

“Fine by me. I’m going stir crazy in this place. I haven’t run one damn mile in over a week.”

“I was just about to say the same thing.” Charlie rubbed his ample gut with both hands.

“You should start, be good for you.”

“Yeah, I’ll get right on it,” Charlie deadpanned as he pulled out the coffee maker. Jake just shook his head and made for the back bedroom. He yawned and scratched his ass with the gun as he walked down the hallway. He laughed and slammed the door hard enough to shake the house. Charlie silently cursed him for waking Angel up.

•      •      •

Julio listened to the hushed tones of the conversation with dread. His fellow kidnappers made no effort to conceal their happiness. For them it was all about the money. While he had joined this group for the same reasons, he still considered himself better than his older counterparts. While they wasted their money on liquor and gambling, he saved most of his or sent it home to his family. His parents thought he was in Arizona and had a good job. If his mother ever found out who his employer really was it would kill her, followed quickly by his father killing him.

The girl in the next room was not much younger than he was. Young and pretty, she reminded him of his sister. He had hoped that her time with them would be short. The phone call was ensuring that, just not the way he had hoped.

“We’ll be there,” his partner spoke into the phone.

He quickly hung up after scribbling some notes on a napkin. He finally set the phone aside and motioned for them to turn up the TV. Carlos twisted the volume higher before flopping down on the couch next to Julio. The man’s body odor competed with Julio’s cologne and he wrinkled his nose in protest. They both leaned in to hear what Armando had to say.

“We take the girl to the clinic tonight, just after midnight. After that we have two deliveries and then we’re done with this one. Payday by next week.”

The two of them smiled at the shared news and Carlos held his beer out for a quick toast. Armando obliged and they both drained them empty. Carlos thankfully rose to replace them. Julio sank back into the leather sofa and shook his head. Armando noticed but he waited until he received his beer and sampled it before addressing him.

“What’s your problem?”

He looked away, out the window so he didn’t have to meet the accusing glare.

“She’s just a kid.”

“So what if she’s just a kid. Not like we haven’t taken kids before. They pay more money. What the hell do you think we’re doing here?”

“Not to the Butcher.”

“That’s not your problem either. You do what you’re told and you’ll like it. You have no problem taking the money, do you? A trip to the Butcher just means we’ll get paid quicker. You should be happy. We won’t be waiting months now for another payday.”

He just grunted and continued to gaze out the dirty window. His partner stared at him for a moment longer before turning away to exchange a look with Carlos standing in the doorway. He just shrugged as if it didn’t surprise him before nodding with agreement to the unspoken question. Their young partner was not working out as they had hoped.