Revenge Story Page 2

  “Love you too, jerk,” she replied. “And I’ll get as big as a house if I want to. Reach over there and hand me the dessert menu.”

  Ray plucked the dessert card from between the salt and pepper shakers and gave it to her. “I hear there’s a two-for-one deal going on desserts in here.”

  “Shut your mouth,” she said with a smile.

  After they finished eating, Ray paid the bill and they walked back out to the truck.

  “Rain’s stopped,” he said as he opened the door for Karen.

  “Ray, you never open doors for me,” she said.

  “Well...”

  “Never mind,” she said with a laugh, “I know why you did it, tough guy. Too bad I had to get pregnant to force you into some manners.”

  “Hey, I got manners.” He closed the door for her and then went around and got in the truck. “I got plenty of manners.” He started up the engine. “Can you get out that map from the glove box? It shows the way to the motel.”

  Karen rummaged around until she found it. Switching on the dome light, she examined the map and pointed to a spot marked on it. “Looks like this road here. The one that runs right past this truck stop. Just follow it out of town and go west. It’s about ten miles, I think.”

  They drove for more than half an hour before Ray finally pulled off to the side of the road. It was dark and there was nothing on the old country road except trees and fields, and the occasional small farm. High, forested hills ran down each side of the valley. “I think we’re lost,” he said.

  “Why don’t we just sleep in the truck then?” Karen suggested. “It’s already after eleven. I can handle one night in the truck.”

  “Maybe you’re right,” said Ray, “but not here. Let’s go on a little further until we can find a side road to park this rig. Can’t just park on the shoulder.” He pulled back onto the road and began searching for anything that would lead them off the main highway. Less than a mile later, he spotted a dirt track to the left. An old sign showed it was a U.S. Forest Service road leading up into the hills. “Looks like us,” he said, turning up the dirt road. He drove about fifty feet until the road leveled off enough for them to park the truck, and then switched off the ignition and set the brake. “I suppose this is as good a place as any,” he said.

  He grabbed a flashlight and opened the door. “I’ll go back and get us some blankets and pillows.” Going around to the rear of the truck, he snapped the handle up on the roller door and pushed it up a few feet. He scrambled inside and rummaged through a few of the packing boxes until he found the blankets and pillows. A thought crossed his mind about parking out in the middle of nowhere. Forest Service roads were not only used by hunters and hikers, but by people cruising into the hills to drink and shoot guns. There was even a problem lately with meth labs being set up deep in the forests. The druggies would cook up the meth and then dispose of the propane tanks and other hardware used to make it. If you happened along while they were busy, they often shot first and didn’t bother with any questions afterward.

  Ray went to a large dresser that was tied against the side of the cargo box and pulled open the second drawer. Feeling around inside, he touched a familiar weight and picked it up.

  It was an M9 Beretta pistol, identical to the sidearm the Army had issued him before he was sent to Iraq. They had repossessed the original when he got out, but he had liked it so much that he had bought his own later. He hefted it in his hand and popped out the magazine with its fifteen rounds. He eased back the slide gently and looked down to ensure there was not a round in the chamber. He replaced the magazine and tucked the weapon into his belt. Grabbing the blankets and pillows, he jumped out and shut the door.

  “Here you go,” Ray said as he climbed back into the truck. He unfolded one of the blankets and tucked it around Karen, and then handed her a pillow. “Sure you want to sleep here?”

  Karen snuggled into the corner and stuffed the pillow behind her head. “I’m tired,” she said. “Been a long day.” Her eyes were already closing.

  Ray wrapped himself in his own blanket and leaned against the door. After a moment, he took the pistol and quietly placed it in the glove box. Karen didn’t notice. All the packing earlier that morning as well as the long drive began to catch up with him. Less than two minutes later, he was asleep.

  Bang! Bang! Bang!

  “Open up in there, folks!”

  Ray startled awake and shielded his eyes from a bright light shining in through the driver’s side window. “What the hell?”

  “Come on! Open up the window!”

  Groggily, Ray rolled down the window and saw a young man in uniform standing next to the truck. It took him a second or two to recognize him as a state trooper.

  “Who is it, Ray?” Karen said, straightening quickly in her seat.

  “It’s the police,” he replied.

  “Why are you parked here?” The trooper asked.

  “We got lost,” said Ray. “We were looking for a motel down on the main road. Couldn’t find it, so we parked here for the night. We’re on our way to Texas, officer.”

  The cop lowered his flashlight a bit. “All right. May I see your drivers’ license, registration, and proof of insurance, please?”

  “Sure,” said Ray. He leaned across his wife and opened the glove box. The moment he did it, he realized his mistake. The pistol rolled out and hit the floorboards with a heavy thump.

  The cop took a step back and drew his gun. “Don’t move! Keep your hands where I can see them!”

  “I have a permit for that,” said Ray. He placed his hands on the steering wheel in plain sight of the officer.

  “Get out of the truck! Both of you! Ma’am, you slide over and come out on this side, too. Now!”

  “Take it easy,” said Ray. He unlocked the door and opened it. He saw the cop was barely more than twenty-one, young and fresh-faced – and he now had his pistol fully extended, with the flashlight awkwardly tucked under one armpit. His hands were shaking on the gun. Jesus, Ray thought, this is not good. This guy HAS to be a rookie cop.

  The cop took a step back as Ray and Karen got out of the truck. “Keep your hands up,” he ordered.

  Suddenly, the skies exploded with heavy rain again. A confused expression by the cop told Ray that this rookie had no clear idea how to handle the situation.

  “Look,” said Ray. “We’re just ordinary folks. I have a carry permit for the gun. I was an Army officer, okay? If you just let me get the permit from my wallet...”

  “Shut up and turn around,” said the trooper. “Both of you put your hands against the side of the vehicle and spread your legs.”

  Ray grudgingly put his hands against the cold metal of the box truck and spread his legs.

  “My husband’s a decorated war veteran,” said Karen indignantly. She hadn’t yet turned around, but was instead glaring at the cop. “There’s no need for you to treat him like a criminal.”

  “Do what he says, honey.” Ray said.

  The cop stepped up and grabbed Karen by the shoulder, spun her around, and then slammed her hard into the truck. She bounced off the side of the rig so hard that she fell into the mud. “Keep your mouth shut and do as you’re told,” he said.

  Karen got to her knees and put two hands around her stomach. She grimaced. “Ray...I think he hurt me...”

  Ray whirled around and hurled himself at the officer, dropping him to the ground in a full-body tackle. “You son-of-a-bitch!” he shouted. The gun flew from the cop’s hand and disappeared in the mud. The two men struggled as the rain poured down even harder.

  “Ray! Stop it!”

  Ray punched the young cop in the face several times until his knuckles were bloody, while Karen continued screaming at him to stop. The cop fought back hard and tried to reach for his mace. Ray grabbed it and threw it away, and then head-butted the cop. The young state patrolman slumped back in a daze, lying motionless as the rain washed the blood from his face as fast as it seeped from his
nose.

  Ray reached down and found the handcuff case around the officer’s belt. He snatched out the handcuffs, and then snapped them across the cop’s wrists. Then he pulled him to a sitting position and dragged him over to his patrol car, leaning him up against the side of the door. The cop slumped forward a bit, but he was starting to come around. He looked up at Ray and there was an expression of hatred on his face.

  “You two are going to jail for a long time,” he said.

  “Maybe so,” Morris shot back, “but you are one fucked-up excuse for a cop, you know that? Why the hell did you shove my wife like that? She’s pregnant, you worthless piece of shit!” Ray raised his fist high, ready to bring it down hard.

  “Ray! No!” Karen was still kneeling in the mud with her hands over her stomach and her head down, as if she were trying to protect the small life inside her.

  Ray pulled back his fist and went over to Karen. He scooped her up and placed her gently into the truck. He tucked a blanket around her. “We’ll get you to a hospital right away,” he said. “Just hang on for...”

  “Ray! Look out!”

  Ray whirled. The cop was struggling with the handcuffs, trying to reach for something around his feet. Ray leaped on him and got there first. He pushed the cop’s hands away and pulled out a small automatic from the cop’s ankle holster. “You want to shoot somebody now?” Ray yelled, holding up the gun. “Haven’t you done enough damage already?” He lifted his arm to smack the cop across the face, and then thought better of it. Instead, he threw the little pistol far into the woods. “Guess you won’t be shooting anyone with that,” he said. “Fucking idiot.” He pulled the battered cop to his feet and started searching his pockets. He found a wallet and put it on the hood of the car. Then he unbuckled the officer’s gun belt and flung it into the woods as far as he could.

  Ray’s heart was pounding from all the adrenalin rushing though his veins. What the hell am I going to do now? He thought. The ramifications of what he had done dawned on him. He was going to jail, perhaps for years. It would be their word against the cop’s, and he knew any jury would believe the cop, especially with a gun involved.

  His gun.

  He decided to worry about that later. He had to get Karen to the hospital. He grabbed the young cop by the back of his shirt and spun him around. “Come on,” he said brusquely.

  “This is kidnapping,” said the cop, but there was now a tinge of fear in his voice.

  “Shut up, stupid. You’re not being kidnapped. And if I wanted to kill you I’d have done it already,” Ray said. He opened the front passenger door of the patrol car. “Get in.”

  The officer climbed into the front seat with some difficulty. Morris went around and got in on the drivers’ side. He looked over at the cop. “I’m leaving you here and taking my wife to the hospital. I’m sure you’ll be able to worm your way out of those handcuffs after a while, or walk back to town.”

  “The key was in that holster belt you tossed,” said the cop. “Why don’t you do the sensible thing. Let me make a radio call. Turn yourself in. I can have an ambulance up here for your wife in fifteen minutes.”

  “I don’t think so,” said Ray. “And thanks a lot for ruining our lives, asshole.”

  The cop stared out the window and said nothing.

  Ray resisted the urge to punch the cop in the face one last time. Instead, he reached under the dashboard and began tearing out the wiring. The two-way radio died, and then the computer, and finally the headlights went out. A shotgun was mounted upright in a frame, which he tore free using both hands. It came away with the mount still attached, along with a chunk of the dashboard. He pumped out the shells onto the floorboard. When he finished, he got out of the patrol car and slammed the door, and then flung the shotgun away. He went back to the truck and climbed in next to Karen.

  She was pale as a ghost. “I don’t feel so good,” she whispered. “I think I’m bleeding. You know. Down there.”

  Ray retrieved the Beretta from the floorboards and stuck it into his belt. Then he started the rental truck and backed down toward the main highway. As they passed the patrol car, the running board on the truck scraped against it, tearing off the paint and some of the State Patrol logo along with it. The rookie cop was staring up at them with a look of utter hatred, as if he were trying to memorize their faces for later.

  Chapter Two

  It was after one a.m. when Ray finally found his way back into town. A sign with an arrow pointed toward the local hospital, and he headed the truck in that direction. Pulling into the parking lot, he shut off the motor and hurried around to the passenger side. He lifted Karen out and carried her into the hospital through the emergency doors.

  “Hey!” he shouted. “My wife is hurt!” A few other people were sitting around in the waiting room. All of them looked up in curiosity at Ray.

  A nurse walked up from behind the reception desk. “What’s wrong?”

  “She fell. I think she’s having a miscarriage. She’s bleeding, for God’s sake.”

  “I need a wheelchair here!” The nurse shouted.

  An attendant came up with a wheelchair and Ray laid Karen into the chair. She was passed out cold.

  “I think she’s lost a lot of blood,” said Ray. “It’s all over the floor of our truck.”

  “Exam room two,” the nurse ordered. Karen was whisked away quickly. The nurse turned to Ray. “You’ll have to fill out some paperwork,” she said.

  “What about my wife?”

  “I’ll have the doctor look at her right away. Don’t worry. Take a seat over there in the waiting area.”

  Ray plodded to the nearest chair and sat down. He put his head in his hands and a couple of tears rolled down his cheeks. He was shivering from both the cold rain and a flood of emotions.

  A moment later, the attendant returned with a clipboard. “Sir, you’ll have to fill out these forms,” he said. “Do you have medical insurance?”

  “Yes,” Ray replied numbly. “We have insurance.”

  “Here’s a pen,” said the attendant. “Just give the papers to the nurse when you’re finished.”

  “Sure.” He took the pen and started writing his information in the blanks. A tear fell and smudged the spot where he had written ‘Karen Morris’ on the first line under Patient’s Name. He wiped his face and continued filling out the form. Then he suddenly remembered they had no longer had insurance. He had let the policy lapse when they could no longer afford the premiums. He had planned to re-apply for insurance when they reached Texas.

  Well, that’s the least of my problems now, he thought. He filled out the form anyway, using his old information. When he was done, he went to the reception desk and gave it to one of the nurses. “Anything about my wife yet?”

  “She’s in emergency surgery, sir. The doctor will see you as soon as he’s finished.”

  “Thanks.” He sat down and picked at a cooking magazine someone had left behind on the adjoining chair.

  An hour later, a young doctor approached Ray and held out his hand. “I’m Dr. Mason,” he said. “Your wife is going to be fine, but I’m afraid she’s had a miscarriage. There was some minor hemorrhaging, but we took care of that. I had to make a small incision, go in, and stop it. We also had to give her two pints of blood. But like I said, she will be just fine in a few days.”

  “Can I see her?” Ray asked.

  “In a while,” said the doctor. “She’s still under sedation.”

  “I understand.” Ray said numbly.

  “The nurse will let you know when you can visit her. She’s in one of the recovery rooms right now.”

  “All right,” said Ray. “Thanks.”

  There was nothing more to say. The ER doctor turned away and went off to see another patient.

  Ray put his face into his hands and cried.

  Twenty-five miles away, a young police officer with his hands still cuffed in front of him stumbled along the road toward Roseburg, Oregon. He was complete
ly soaked by the rain, and water sloshed around inside his shiny black shoes. He was shivering like a wet dog.

  A blue Volkswagen Jetta with a Legalize Pot bumper sticker pulled over to the side of the road about fifty feet ahead and stopped. A man with shoulder-length hair and a thick beard got out and put up a hand to his eyes against the heavy rain. “Do you need help, officer? What happened to you?”

  “I’m an Oregon state patrolman!” he shouted. “I was kidnapped! Get over here and help me out of these cuffs!”

  The bearded man ran up to him. “Jesus, are you okay? You’ve got cuts on your face.”

  “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Never mind that,” said the cop. “You have a pair of bolt cutters in that car?”

  “No, sorry.”

  “Forget it, then. Just give me a ride to the State Patrol office. I’ll show you where it is.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Ray Morris glanced at his watch. The hospital staff was still not allowing him to see Karen, and another hour had passed since the doctor had spoken to him. He wondered how much time he had left before every police officer within twenty miles would come crashing into the hospital to arrest him. Not much longer, I’ll bet, he thought.

  He walked up to the reception desk. “I’d like to see my wife, please.”

  The nurse looked at the clock on the wall. “Um...okay. She should be coming out of the anesthesia now.” She pointed down the hall. “Recovery room three,” she said.

  “Thanks.” He headed off to the recovery room. He opened the door slightly and glanced inside at Karen. She was in bed sleeping and the color had returned to her cheeks. He walked up and took her hand gently in his own. “Hi, honey.”

  Karen opened her eyes. “Hi,” she said softly.

  “How are you feeling?”

  “Tired and sore,” she said. “I lost the baby, didn’t I?”

  Ray hung his head. “Yes.”

  “We can always have another one,” she said.

  “Sure.” That fucking stupid cop, he thought.