Washed Away - Jess Wygle (list of ebook readers .txt) 📗

Washed Away

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A car whizzed by, spraying a blotchy mist of puddled rain water.  Night cloaked me in shadows, making me undistinguishable against the midnight calm.  My skin was as dark as coal and my clothes weren’t exactly made for twilight jogging.  I was probably hard to see, what with my black jeans, black hoodie, and green vest that bounced with each step under the weight of the piece in my pocket.

 

It was burning a hole in my pocket; my gun.  It was heavier than usual, despite the fact that it was missing a few rounds from the clip.  My palm still stung from the aftershock of each squeeze of the trigger only a few minutes ago.  My heart hammered furiously, as if compensating for the heart that was no longer beating.  I stopped running a few blocks back so not to arouse any suspicion.

 

I was in Old Town among the decrepit decay of a once flourishing neighborhood.  Graffiti seemed to be etched into the brick and concrete.  Buildings were now vibrant symbols of disease thanks to their spray-painted tattoos.  Rotting furniture, trampled garbage, and the occasional stray cat littered the sidewalks and empty lots I hurried past.  The bitter metallic stench of a bubbling meth lab seeped from the edges of a boarded window of the nearest abandoned dwelling.

 

The sirens wailed far behind me, especially thanks to the distance I’ve put between me and the scene of the crime. I need a ride.  I need to get away faster than on foot because they’ll be looking for me.  Headlights from an oncoming car blinded me for a second so I kept my eyes on my waterlogged boots.  I couldn't tell if it was a patrol car or not, so I ducked.  The wind pushed against me as if trying to lead me somewhere.

 

I grabbed my cell phone, dialed Crane, but got no answer.  I ended the call when his voicemail picked up then sent him a text.  "Call me."  The battery icon in the corner of my phone was drained and flashing red.  I sighed heavily, cramming the device back in my pocket, where it would most likely die a peaceful death.

 

I could smell the rain before it came, making me quicken my pace, but it was too late.  The masked clouds started dripping on me, at first just in sprinkles then harder, almost blindingly so.  I hung my head as more sirens called my name in the distance.  It was now an outright down pour soaking me to the bone.  I looked behind me.  I couldn’t see any lights on the road, but the sound of the police cars seemed to be approaching.

 

A clap of thunder rocked through me as I picked up to a run, hugging the shadows and avoiding the murky street lights.  Rain drops beaded down my face.  A pair of headlights hit my back, illuminating the ground in front of me, curving around my own eerie shadow, which somewhat resembled Death himself.

 

“Hey man,” I heard a voice shout through the down pour.  “Hey!”

 

I looked over my shoulder, pausing for a moment.  A silver Ford Taurus had pulled along the shoulder with its passenger window down.  A Mr. Rodgers-look-alike leaned over from the driver’s side, calling to me throught the open window.  “Hey buddy, need a lift?”

 

I could barely make out his words with the pelting rain beating down on the world around me, filling my ears with a cacophony of plunks and natural white noise.  I told myself to keep running.  I didn’t know this guy.  Why would he stop from some thug trampling around in a rain storm?  What was his deal?

 

“Hey, did you hear me?” he called louder.  “You want a ride or not?”

 

“Nah man,” I waved him off, continuing to make my way down the sidewalk.

 

“You’re gonna drown if you’re not careful,” the man persisted, gently moving the car forward at my pace.  “Come on.  It’s not a problem.  You’re going to catch pneumonia out there and I have to, in good conscious, offer you a warm ride.”

 

I stopped again.  “I don’t get it man, what you want?”

“Just to help you out, partner.  It’s really coming down out there.”

 

The angel was rooting for the stranger with the offer of a safe, comfy ride out of the city while the devil was coaxing me to trudge on in the rain, solitude, and darkness.  Both shoulder-riders seemed to be steering me towards two completely different traps.  I had to choose the lesser of two evils and, at the moment, the warmer, drier route seemed the best.

 

As soon as I closed the door, I regretted getting in.  First of all, I was soaked and dripping all over this man’s leather upholstery, and secondly because I heard the hushed melody of old school honkey tonk.  Though it was indeed warmer in here, I was already getting colder because of my saturated clothes.  I pushed my trembling hands towards the vents on the dash as the man drove on.

 

“So, where’re you headed?” the stranger asked.

 

“The Grove,” I replied quickly.  I tried to spy on him out of the corner of my eye.  A long-sleeved sweater over a crisp-collared button up.  A gold band wrapped around an uncalloused knuckle.  Even his well manicured finger nails showed no signs of manual labor.

 

“You’re quite a ways away.  It’s a good thing you jumped in.  What are you doing out in this weather?”

 

I didn’t feel particularly talkative.  “I ain’t got no ride.  ‘Preciate dis, man.”

 

“Like I said, it’s not a problem.” 

 

The car moved at a snail’s pace.  It could’ve been because of the curtain of rain smashing down on the windshield.  It could also be that the stranger is an inherently slow driver.  There are plenty of those around and this man could be one of them.  Given the fact that the stranger seemed unaffected by the impeding weather and was lounging in his seat, I was going to say our speed was thanks to the latter.

 

“I’m Dave,” the stranger said.

 

I hesitated.  How much information should I give this Dave?  I hadn’t taken my hood off and the car was dark, so I was sure he hadn’t gotten a good look at my face.  He may not even be able to identify me in a line-up or my mug, should it end up on TV.  Despite that, I should be as vague as possible.  This joker might not be done with his line of questioning and he might find it more suspicious if I’m completely intolerant of his conversation rather than being short with him.

 

“Ty,” I lied, giving him a false introduction.

 

“Good to meet you, Ty.”  The dashboard light illuminated Dave’s weak smile.  There were only a few short moments of silence before he sparked up again.  “Do you live in the Grove?”

 

“Nah, just headed to a buddy’s place.”

 

My body stiffened as the blinking cherries of a police car came towards us.  I watched intently as the police vehicle sped pass Dave’s Taurus without slowing.

 

Dave noticed my interest in the car.  With my eyes pointing out his driver’s side window, he looked in my direction and our eyes met.  My jaw tightened at the sight of his unsettling gaze.  It was piercing with a tepid glaze and lagging lids.  In my mind, those eyes, that look knew the officer was heading towards the crime scene I had created.  In my mind, Dave knew my lies, knew the truth, had it all figured out.

 

I was paranoid.  Dave didn’t know me.  He didn’t know where I came from or where I was actually going.  He didn’t know what I had done.  I had to calm down or I would give myself away.  Taking a deep breath, I forced myself to loosen up.

 

Dave’s eyes were now in his rearview mirror watching the blue and red lights turn onto a side street, heading the direction I had just come.  “Must’ve been an accident somewhere,” Dave noted passively.

 

I nodded, still slowly rubbing my palms together.  Dave noticed my struggle to generate warmth and cranked the heat up.  “Thanks, man,” I mumbled, instantly relishing in the warmth.

 

“No problem.” Another lull of silence.  “What were you doing out tonight?  I mean, had you planned on walking all the way to the Grove?”

 

“Yah, didn’t know it was gonna rain, though,” I replied, sticking to my plan of being responsive, selectively so.

 

“You don’t have a car?”

 

“Yah, just not wit me.  I lent it to someone.”

 

“And your buddy, the one you’re going to meet, he couldn’t pick you up?”

“He ain’t got no car.  It’s no big thing.  Can’t count on nobody but myself.”

 

Dave exaggerated a few nods.  “I’d have to completely agree with you there, Ty.  If you want something, you’ve got to go get it yourself.  You can’t rely on someone else to do it for you.  I can appreciate that statement.”

 

 I nodded.  My phone vibrated in my pocket.  I pulled it out just enough to read the text that just came in.  It was Crane.  “Where R U?”  I ignored the text and stuffed the phone back into my pocket.  I’d be there soon enough, plus I didn't want to kill my phone.

 

“That’s how I got where I am now,” Dave went on.  “You see, growing up, it was just me and my mother.  I did a lot of fending for myself.  My father left when I was young, got another family, and never really cared for my mother and me.  So, if I wanted something, I couldn’t count on my dad to get it for me.  Sometimes, I couldn’t even count on my mother, who was working her ass off just to keep the lights on, and really wasn’t there for me.  Whatever I wanted, I had to go get it for myself.  I had a job as soon as someone would pay me.  Got a degree on my own, got a career on my own, and started a family.  There wasn’t anyone to teach me how to do all of that or hand it to me.  I went out and got it for myself.  Do you have family, Ty?  Kids of your own?”

 

“Nah,” I lied again.

 

“Well, what are you, in your twenties?”

 

I nodded.  “Twenty-three.”

 

“Yeah, you’re just a pup still.  Not quite old enough to start a family, I suppose.”

 

Little did he know I already had two babies.  On top of that, I had an education and grew up in a pretty decent household.  Hard times led me from the straight and narrow and forced me to do some things I hadn't ever considering doing before.  I chose to alter my speech to match my new and unfortunate lifestyle.  I was doing what I needed to do to get my life back on track.  In any other situation, the comment he just made would have straight pissed me off.

 

I couldn’t let it bother me, though.  I had to let it fly since this man had been a gracious host and picked up a thug off the side of the road.  Really, if you looked at the present situation, Dave was an idiot for even considering giving me a ride, let alone persisting the way he had.  I had no intention of firing off any more rounds and compromising safe passage to the other side of town so he had nothing to be worried about, but he was still an idiot.  I just had to bite my tongue, a discipline I had yet to master in my lifetime, until I reached my destination.

 

“Someday, when you get a family,” Dave kept at it, “you’ll realize that if you want your children to have more than you had at their age, you can’t just do you anymore, and you have to allow them to count on you.  Don’t get me wrong, you still have to work to get what