The Crypt (24 page)

“If it had been the shooter,” Sarah said. “We would’ve had a much higher chance of getting hit, so I’m happy it was you, Parkman. Saved my life again.” Sarah got up off the floor. “How many times are you going to do that?”

“Don’t know,” he shrugged his shoulders. “As many as I can, I guess. Hey, where’d you get the gun?”

Sarah pointed at Rosalie as she applied the safety and stashed it. A quick look around the lobby counted four people. The desk clerk and what looked like a manager in a suit were behind the counter, only their eyes and forehead showing, and a couple were crouching behind a sofa in the corner.

“We good now? Minden jó?” the suit asked.

Sarah nodded. “Yeah, bad guy dead. Everything back to normal.”

The guy in the suit shook his head and swiped his hair back using both hands. He was evidently quite upset. In his broken English he said, “No, not normal. Please, everyone leave. No stay my hotel. Please leave. Get things and go. Not good for business.”

Rosalie had gotten up off the floor. She glanced out the door and then turned to the manager.

“We will leave. My associates will pick up their bags and we will leave.” She turned to Sarah and pointed at the gun. “I’m gonna need that back.”

“Come and get it.”

Rosalie stared at her. “Are you challenging me?”

“If you think I’m stepping outside at any time in the next week without a gun then you should join the circus because you’d make a good fucking clown.”

“Sarah, you don’t understand. I can cover you when there’s a guy shooting at us but I can’t cover you in any report just for carrying a weapon. I’ll toss it back to you if you ever need it.”

Rosalie put her hand out. Sarah could feel the hotel employees watching them along with the couple by the couch who had stood up now.

“Rosalie, what you don’t get is that I don’t care about reports and whether you can cover me or not. All I care about is my ass and making sure that it stays where it is. I’d sure hate to get it shot off. That’d really piss me off. So, I keep the weapon until this is over. That’s it. This isn’t a negotiation. We don’t talk about it anymore. If you still feel you want it, come and take it. My pissed off meter is rising and I’m ready.”

Rosalie looked at Parkman.

“He isn’t going to help you,” Sarah continued. “I know
he
wants me armed. Now, your move.”

In her peripheral vision Sarah saw Parkman shrug his shoulders at Rosalie.

Rosalie stared a moment more. Sarah could tell the issue was over. She hadn’t acted.

She turned to Parkman and then started toward the stairs. “Let’s get our things.”

Fifteen minutes later they had checked out. Rosalie’s men were outside dealing with the local police. A tow truck had shown up to remove the car that had careened off the road. Parkman was told he would need to make a statement.

Knowing Rod’s men would be close, Sarah squinted into the sun as she looked for the familiar fedora hats. Sure enough, three men stood in the shadows across the street, watching everything. One of them lifted his hand to his mouth and spoke into it.

As much as she hated them it was good that they were staying close. She needed them at the crypt on Friday. Her plan was coming together in her head. Unless Vivian said something different, Sarah knew her plan would work. It had to.

Be killed or remain a prisoner.

Although, after surviving two attempts on her life in one day, it was clear that being a prisoner wasn’t very good for her health either.

Chapter 22

Rosalie arranged for everyone to be driven out of town. She’d asked that Parkman ride in another vehicle so if they were attacked again it would limit the assailant’s odds at getting both her witnesses.

Sarah could tell they were heading north. She hadn’t talked to anybody or asked where they were going. She needed some time to think.

The big question for her was: could she pull the trigger if given the chance? She could’ve when he confronted her in the Mormon Temple all those months ago. She tried to, but got careless.

She looked out the window of the SUV and watched as the Hungarian countryside raced by. Seeing Armond again would stir up a lot of internal shit. Knowing he’d raped and murdered her sister, how could she
not
shoot him when given the chance?

She felt the vehicle slowing. They were pulling into a gas station. For Hungary she was surprised at how new and modern looking it was.

They pulled up to the pumps and stopped.

The driver turned in his seat. “Grab a coffee. We have five minutes.”

Sarah opened the door and looked around before jumping out. An open field was off to the left. Behind her sat the highway and to her right was a small building that appeared to service the main gas station. Nothing looked threatening and no bad guys lurked in any shadow as far as she could see.

Parkman walked up. “You going in?”

Sarah nodded.

They walked together and got to the door without being shot.

Whoopee.

Sarah took a quick look around the convenience store. The only person in the store was the clerk behind the counter reading a magazine.

“Feeling paranoid?” Parkman asked.

“You could tell?”

“Yeah.” Parkman got to the coffee dispenser machine first. “You’re watching everything intensely. They tried twice today. They’ll regroup and try again later. Relax for a bit.”

He placed a cup under the spout and chose a coffee with cream. Sarah looked back out the gas station’s windows. Her driver was standing at the back of his vehicle holding the gas hose. The SUV Parkman had been in was further down at the next pump, also being filled.

“Do you know where we’re going?” Parkman asked.

Sarah turned to the coffee machine, selected a large cup and hit the black button.

“We’re going to a city called Esztergom.”

“What’s there?”

“Another crypt.”

“The crypt Vivian told you about?”

“Looks that way.”

A screeching car tire made them both turn around. Sarah spun so fast she knocked the coffee out of Parkman’s hand, spilling it across a row of magazines.

Neither of them paid it any attention as three vehicles shot off the highway and into the gas station. The lead vehicle drove around the front of the lead SUV and stopped. The other two fell into formation, blocking all the SUVs from moving.

Rosalie’s drivers both dropped their respective gas hoses and ran for the passenger doors, trying to get in.

“Regroup and try again later eh?” Sarah said.

Parkman grunted under his breath. He turned to the clerk who had looked up and was standing there frowning. “You got a weapon under the counter?” he asked.

“Mi az?”
What’s that?

“Gun? Bat? Bar? Knife? Anything to…”

A loud crash emanated from outside. All three of them turned, Sarah already yanking Rosalie’s gun out.

“Shit,” she heard Parkman exclaim beside her.

The lead SUV had just been rammed by the second vehicle. The driver hadn’t made it inside his vehicle yet. He was knocked into the gas pump beside the vehicle as he was reaching for his weapon. The attacker’s car reversed and rammed into the SUV again. This time the SUV bumped up and into the gas pump, the driver crushed between it.

Gunfire erupted from Rosalie’s vehicle. Return gunfire came from the car in the back.

“This is getting old. How many times are they going to try to hit us in one day?”

“Until they complete the job,” Parkman said, his face deadpan.

Sarah watched in stunned silence, gun in hand. Where to move? Which way to run? They were trapped inside the gas station. The lead vehicle that blocked the front SUV was ten feet from the doors Sarah and Parkman had just entered. Walking outside right now would be suicide.

“Find a weapon Parkman and meet me outside.”

“Stay alive, Sarah, or I’ll punch your corpse. I’m serious.”

“Got it,” she said as she ran behind the counter and past the stunned clerk. Armond’s men had done this before. In the States when Esmerelda was driving her and her newfound friend Jack Tate to safety, his men had pulled over and shot two police officers to get to them. People like the men out front had no regard for life. They held no belief system. All they put forward was their desire for the almighty dollar and the only way to stop them was to kill them. To exterminate them. Cops couldn’t do it. Members of the law enforcement community could only kill while engaged in a fire fight. But Sarah could do it and get away with. Sarah could do it and enjoy it, knowing she was ridding the world of scum.

An old quote from an early 90’s band called Jane’s Addiction crossed her mind.
Some people should die.

She got to the back door and slammed into it, knocking it open and tumbling out into the sunshine at the rear of the building. She had no fear of being shot as no one had had a chance to get around to the back yet. She spied a line of four large 18-wheelers parked side by side, all idling. One of them started moving, edging out and turning towards the ramp that would take him back onto the highway.

She turned and started along the wall of the gas station. She heard more gunfire from the front. It reminded her of Fourth of July celebrations. Lowering at the waist, gun held out in front, she slowed as she got to the corner.

She could see the gas pump was dislodged now as the attackers had rammed into it a few more times when she was running around to the back. She could see her driver sprawled out on the pavement beside his vehicle, not moving, blood on his abdomen. Rosalie was crouched down behind her SUV. From where Sarah stood it looked like Rosalie was adding bullets to her gun’s clip.

A quick assessment of the carnage told Sarah that there were three vehicles and three attackers. One was dead on each side by the looks of it. If she were to walk out from where she stood, there would be nowhere to hide. She would be an easy target and the last thing she would ever do was make it easy for them.

“Hold them down,” she whispered. “Hold them down.”

She turned from the front and ran back with everything she had to the rear again. She passed the open back door and continued running to the long trucks. Gunfire erupted at the front as she made it to the first rig. It was a Peterbilt with a long nose. Perfect for what she wanted.

She hopped up the steps and peeked inside. The cab was empty. She tried the door. It opened on the first pull. There was no way she could drive anything this big or intense. Too many gears. The only way this would work was if the driver was present and since she didn’t see anyone in the gas station he had to be…

She jumped into the driver’s seat and turned to rip open the curtains. A man lay wrapped in the fetal position, sleeping away while a gunfight took place not seventy feet from him.

“Get up!” Sarah yelled and jabbed him with her gun. “Get up now or I shoot you and go to the next truck!”

He grunted and turned, his eyes red, but staring and open now.

“Wha…wha?” he managed.

Sarah gestured to the steering wheel and the gear shift. “Drive this thing.”

He rolled over to lean toward her and asked again in Hungarian what she wanted.

“Drive!” she yelled and jammed the gun under his nose.

More gunfire erupted in the distance.

Shit, I’m losing this fight. Vivian, where are you?

The truck driver had raised his hands. He moved to get off his sleeper bed but before he could Sarah had to move out of the way. She kept the gun trained on him as she got onto the driver’s seat with her feet and frog hopped over to the passenger side. The driver maneuvered into his chair and stared at her again.

“Hol?”
where?
he asked, using his right hand to gesture out the front window, his shoulders rising.

Sarah pointed to the front of the gas station. There was only one exit and it was right in front of them. To drive around to the front of the gas station would be going the wrong way.

The driver showed his confusion. Sarah knew he had to be thinking she was kidnapping him and his truck when all she wanted was a large battering ram. But whatever he thought, she had to get him to work faster because she was running out of time.
Better yet,
she thought,
Rosalie is running out of time if she’s not dead already
.

Sarah raised the gun, flipped off the safety and with her left hand showed him three fingers. His eyes widened as he stared down the barrel of the weapon, no doubt losing most of the weight of sleepiness in that moment.

Sarah slowly lowered one of her fingers and then waited another second to lower the next one. He quickly figured out it was a countdown. When the last finger dropped so would his head.

She moved the gun up against his cheek and started to lower the last finger.

Whether he spoke English, Hungarian, or Swahili, he understood her quite clearly.

He raised both hands in the air in a gesture for her to hold on and then set the truck in gear and started it moving. Instantly he yanked hard on the big steering wheel and turned it toward the front of the building.