Patton swerved around
the corner, with enough momentum to make the van slide on two wheels. That alone would’ve been enough to make
Trixie puke, but the thought of where they might soon head left her searching
for a barf bag. “Ya can’t be serious,
pal,” she said, her face starting to pale, and her mouth starting to get that
salty feeling it often did just before a purge of the gut. “Ya seriously wanna leave the country?”
“It’s the only way to
save my boy for sure.” Patton didn’t
even bother looking at her; he just kept his eyes on the road, his mighty
moustache bristling in the wake of his spoken resolve.
“But…but that’s just
crazy talk! Ya can’t just pack up and
skip town! Ya got a lotta stuff to take
care of!”
“…You’re right.”
“I am?” Trixie shook her head. “I mean, course I am! I know yer worried about JP, but --”
“I should go by the
house and pick up some supplies. And a
change of clothes. I got a lot of paint
on my pants today.” He let loose a low
rumble. “Mmmmmm…and some steaks. We can’t leave the country without steaks. That’d be like spitting on the Liberty Bell.”
“Hrrmmm…that’s true.”
“So ya can’t go
anywhere.”
“No, I think we
can. Lloyd’ll be eighteen soon; if he’s
a real man, he’ll be able to take care of the house and the business while I’m
away. And probably assassins, too.”
Trixie cocked her head
and frowned. “Mr. Hoigleheimer, Lloyd
almost drowned in a few feet of water. I
don’t think he’s gonna do too well if somebody’s aimin’ a gun at his head.”
Patton shook his
head. “Don’t write him off that
easy. My boy…” He glanced at the rearview mirror, watching
as JP started mumbling about howler monkeys.
“My boys are full of
surprises. They just need a chance to
put some muscle into a situation.
Lloyd’ll be able to handle things here in Porbeagle, and while he does
that, we’ll keep JP safe so he gets his chance someday. As their dad, that’s the best thing I can do
right now. You understand?”
As much as she hated to
admit it, Trixie had started to see his line of reasoning (flawed as it might
have been). She jerked out a nod and
rubbed her neck. “I know what ya mean,
and it’s nice and all that yer tryin’ to do so much for yer boys. But don’t ya think there’s somethin’ better
ya should be doin’?”
“Like what?”
“I dunno. Callin’ the cops? The FBI, maybe?”
“You really think they
can help?”
“Yeah! Of course!
I mean…” She stroked her
cheek. “That’s what they’re there for,
right? When ya got trouble, ya call
them, and they’ll take care of the bad guys, right?”
“I dunno. In situations like these, they might not be
much help. You know what I mean?”
Trixie shook her head. Situations like these? The last time she checked, they were in
Porbeagle, not a comic book.
“I’m not convinced that
the police or any of those other guys’ll be much use. And I think it’d be good if I didn’t get too
involved either.” His hefty brow twitched. “Right now I’m thinking that the best thing
to do to stop these guys is tear my way through every building in town and
murdering anyone who gets in my way.
It’s the only way to be sure that I get those sons of bitches and smash
the hell out of them until they turn into a nice red splotch of paint on the
asphalt.”
Trixie looked through
the van for a bit, then focused on the road ahead. “Okay, maybe we should leave town.”
“CHRISTMAS TREES? Who loves them?!” JP asked.
“But, uh, we should
probably get him to the hospital first.”
Trixie clamped her hands together.
“Can we at least do that? And --
uh, any chance ya could NOT murder anyone?”
A guttural rumble came
from Patton. “I’ll give it a try, but
I’m not making any promises.”
“That’s all I ask.” Of course, knowing that the most she could
garner was a half-abstinence from violence made Trixie’s stomach quiver -- but
with a sigh and a slump of her shoulders, she figured dwelling on it would just
give her an ulcer. With that out of the way,
she focused back on the road. With
Patton’s hints at genocide, she’d scarcely noticed where he’d driven her -- a
gravel-edged road a fair distance from some fields and trees, with a row of
long-abandoned buildings on the horizon.
They still moved through Porbeagle of course, but with only one beat-up
sedan wobbling ahead of them, she had every right to assume they’d abandoned
civilization.
“I’ll drop you off at
our house, since we’re close enough to it,” said Patton. “That’ll give you a chance to start grabbing
all the things we need. You know where
all our rooms are, right?”
“Y-yes sir.” How he expected her to sift through their
house and pick out all their valuables for a trip escaped her, but she decided
not to press the issue. She just pressed
her hands into her lap and nodded politely.
“Good. Then while you get everything set, I’ll take
JP to the hospital. As his dad…no, as a man, it’s my job to watch over him in
his time of need.” His grip around the
steering wheel tightened, and for a moment Trixie thought she saw it start
warping. “I’m pretty sure that whoever’s
messing with my boy won’t wanna pick a fight with me.”
“Ya got a point there.”
“So where are we
headed?”
“Uh…I’m goin’ back to
yer house, and yer --”
“After that. I mean, do you wanna go to Mexico or
Canada? Like I said, ladies should get
the first choice.”
Oh, good, he’s really goin’ through with this, Trixie thought,
noting the sweat starting to gather on her forehead. “Canada’s closer, ain’t it? So let’s head there.” As soon as she made the choice, she thought
about taking it back -- since she’d always hated cold weather -- but once more
decided against it.
“Good choice. We can make some snow-steaks while we’re
there.”
Snow-steaks. Guess that’s what’s
really important. She took a closer
look at the wobbling sedan. “Huh? Hey, looks like that guy’s flashin’ his
hazard lights. Better move.”
“’Better help’ is more
like it.”
“But what about gettin’
to the hospital, and gettin’ ready to leave the country?” For a moment Trixie thought about asking if
she’d get to visit the hospital, too, but realized that a logical appeal to
Patton would be better spent on an anteater.
Just as the sedan
started slowing down, so too did the van.
“Ignoring someone who needs help isn’t manly. Gotta set an example for my boys, after all.”
He steered the van off the road, and let it slide into a smooth stop. “Get out with me. I might need your help.”
“But don’t ya think
someone should stay with --”
“Get. Out.”
“Yeahokaythatsoundslikeagoodidea.”
Patton lid out of the
van first, unfazed as his machine shifted from the redistributed weight; as he
started ahead, Trixie followed closely behind while rubbing the back of her
neck. Guess as long as there’s somethin’ keepin’ us from skippin’ town, I
should quit bellyachin’, she thought.
While Patton raised a hand to hail the driver, the sedan door opened.
She started walking
toward the pair, with her fingers running through her curly brown hair (though
Trixie spotted a number of gray strands).
Physically, she wasn’t too impressive -- nearly a foot shorter than
Trixie, with a stout, compact body that reminded her of a penguin. It would have helped if she’d come in a suit,
but decked in a pastel-striped button-down and Capri pants, her shape alone
would have to do. In spite of her bright
ensemble, her face was anything but -- her callous scowl and crinkled brow
released more deadly waves than an atom bomb…though if that was her default
expression, it would explain the wrinkles etched into her olive skin.
“Hey there,” said
Patton, staring down at her and into her chestnut eyes (eyes Trixie avoided
looking into, given their strangely cold ferocity). “See you had some car trouble. Need a hand?”
The old lady folded her
arms and started tapping a foot atop the street. “You’re really gonna do this, huh?”
“You mean help you
out? Of course I am -- ‘cause I’m a man.”
He held out a hand. “Name’s Patton.
It’s a pleasure.”
The old lady didn’t
return the favor. She just looked past
him -- a challenge in itself -- toward the van’s interior. While Trixie didn’t try to meet her gaze, she
certainly did follow it; it led to the van’s back seat, with JP lying in place
as if he’d been put in a coffin. Something
about this situation seemed…
“You’re here to help,
huh?” The old lady grunted at the
sentiment. “Actually, you know
what? There is something you can help me
out with.” She headed back to the sedan,
and fumbled behind the driver’s seat for a moment.
“You need a car
jack? Or maybe some jumper cables?”
Patton asked.
“Nah. Just need you to make this niiiiiiiiice and
easy.” She stepped away from the sedan,
having retrieved her valuables: a half-dried reed she’d started twisting
through her mouth like a lollipop. And
with it, the sawed-off-shotgun aimed at Patton’s head.
“Oh, you gotta be --!”
Trixie yelled.
Patton held his
ground. “Should’ve known better than to
trust an old lady,” he grumbled, with
the veins in his arms and temples starting to thump.
“I’ll have you know I
take pretty damn good care of myself…can’t say the same for my marks,
though.” She chomped down on the
reed. “You can call me Mrs. Overdose,
and I’ll be your kidnapper today.”
10:08 A.M.
Time Until JP’s Kidnapping: Actually, it’s happening right now. And also, Patton and Trixie are getting
kidnapped too. Imagine that.
TO BE HEARTINUED…
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