Revenge Story Page 3

  “How long do I have to stay here?” she asked.

  “I don’t know, the doctor hasn’t said yet.”

  “Maybe you should ask him,” she said. The tone in her voice said she was worried – not about her condition – but about the police showing up.

  “Okay, I’ll be right back.” He kissed her hand and went out to look for the doctor.

  Ray found him standing at the reception desk speaking with the nurse. “Hey, doc.”

  “Hello, Mr. Morris. You saw your wife?”

  “Yes. She wants to know when she can leave.”

  “Well, she’s stable, so she could probably go home in a few hours, but I’d like to keep her another day for observation.”

  Ray hesitated. “How much of a risk is it if she wants to go home now?”

  “Not much. There’s no infection, but we found evidence of bruising to her pelvic area. It was a fair amount of trauma brought on by a great deal of force. You say she fell?”

  Ray saw an expression of doubt on the doctor’s face. “Yes,” he said.

  “Excuse me, Mr. Morris, but her injuries much more resemble those of someone who has been pushed or thrown – and hard,” said the doctor. “According to state law, I have to ask you something now. I warn you that your answer could have legal consequences. Did you two have a fight? Did you strike your wife or push her down in any way?”

  “No,” Ray said. He was not angry with the doctor for asking, but he was suddenly furious again at the cop who had caused the whole mess. “I would never hurt my wife. Like I told you, she fell.”

  “Okay,” said the doctor. “I’ll accept your answer, but you should know that we have to inform the police. They’re required to investigate any possible domestic violence incidents that end up in a hospital. Personally, I believe you. You don’t look like a wife-beater to me. Nevertheless, when the trauma could be the result of abuse, I have to report it to the police and they have to check it out. It’s the law.”

  “I understand,” said Ray. “I’d like to take her home now.”

  The doctor shook his head. “You don’t understand. You can’t remove her from the hospital until the police talk to both of you first. If they okay it, then you can either let her stay for observation or take her home. Excuse me. I have to see some other patients now.” He turned away brusquely and headed down the hall. As he passed the reception desk, the doctor nodded to the nurse. She picked up the telephone.

  Ray watched. The doctor told her to call the cops, he thought. He went back to Karen’s room and closed the door behind him. “We’re in big trouble,” he said.

  “I know,” she replied.

  “No. I mean right now. The hospital nurse is calling the cops. The doctor said it’s a state law or something when it looks like abuse.”

  Karen sat up in bed. “Did you tell him you didn’t do anything to me?”

  “Sure I did. I said you fell. But the cops have to ask you about it anyway.”

  “Ray. They probably found that patrolman by now. They’ll take you to jail.”

  He squeezed his temples in his hands. “I know. I know. Do you think you can travel?”

  “I’m all right. Just a little sore. You’ll have to help me get dressed, though.” She threw off the blanket and pointed to the closet. “My clothes are in there, I think.”

  He found her clothes and laid them on the bed. Gently, he helped her dress and then reached down to tie her shoes. A couple of tears washed down his cheek and he brushed them away.

  “I don’t think I can walk just yet,” she said. “I’m still a little woozy.”

  “Just a second,” Ray said. Peeking out the door, he spotted a couple of wheelchairs at the other end of the hall. “Be right back.”

  He returned quickly with one of the wheelchairs and helped her into it.

  “Anyone see you?” Karen said.

  “No, but they will when we leave,” said Ray.

  “Never mind. Let’s get out of here.”

  Ray pulled her to the door and opened it with his foot. Flipping the wheelchair around, he headed for the exit.

  As they passed the nurse at the reception desk, she stood up and said, “Sir, you can’t leave. The police are on their way. They want to talk to you.”

  Ray ignored her and went out through the automatic doors.

  “Sir!”

  “Stuff it, lady! We have to go.”

  The nurse reached for the telephone again.

  They headed south on the freeway toward the California border with the wheelchair now stored in the back of the truck.

  “Do you think anyone saw the truck when we left the parking lot?” Karen said nervously.

  “No. I was watching and no one came out the front door. But as soon as that cop gets free they’re going to know what we’re driving,” said Ray. “Maybe I should turn myself in like that cop said. We won’t be hard to spot in this big truck.”

  “You think they’ll send you to prison?”

  “You bet they will,” said Ray. “No one’s going to take our word about what happened against the word of a cop. Not a chance.”

  “Then we have to make sure we don’t get caught.”

  “How? We have maybe fifteen hundred bucks and everything we own is in the back of this truck. It’s like a neon sign. By morning every cop in Oregon’s going to be looking for us.”

  “What can we do?” Karen said.

  “I don’t know,” said Ray. “Maybe we could go to Mexico. Maybe start a new life there under different names. One thing’s for sure. We have to get rid of this truck and find a place where we can lay low and figure out what to do.”

  “You’re talking about going on the run,” said Karen.

  Ray looked over at her. “You say the word and I’ll pull over at the next town and turn myself in.”

  “No. This isn’t your fault. If they catch you, the only place I’ll ever see you again is in the visiting room at some prison. I love you, Ray. I can’t do that.”

  “I think I know someone who might help us,” said Ray, “if we can get out of Oregon.”

  “Who?”

  “An old Army buddy. He lives just outside Eureka.”

  “How do you know he’ll help us?”

  “Because I saved his ass a couple of times in Iraq,” said Ray. “He owes me.”

  “You mean Ben Cummings?”

  “That’s right.”

  “I never liked him, Ray. When you two were between deployments, I used to see him at the PX. He’s a little crazy.”

  “You don’t know the half of it. But he’s all I’ve got.”

  Rookie patrolman Dave Jackson, thoroughly soaked, bedraggled, and bloody, stumbled into the State Patrol office in Roseburg, still handcuffed.

  The desk officer gave him the once-over. “Hey, rookie. What the hell happened? Everyone’s been out looking for you.”

  “I was assaulted and kidnapped. That’s what the hell happened,” said Jackson. “A man and a woman in a goddamn U-Haul!”

  The duty officer ran around from the desk and quickly freed Jackson from the handcuffs. He went back behind the counter and picked up the microphone for the police radio. “Holy shit! You got a description on ‘em? Give it to me.”

  Jackson walked up to the duty officer and grabbed the microphone from him. “I’ll do it,” he said angrily, rubbing his wrists. “I know exactly what the fuck they look like.”

  Ray Morris took the cutoff highway near Grants Pass, Oregon that led from the interstate over to Highway 101 on the coast. He only hoped they could get across the California border and down to Eureka before the cops spotted the truck. The sun was coming up now and with the approaching daylight, the odds of being spotted by the police were growing exponentially.

  Well, we’re on the run now, he thought. He went over the possible charges against him in his mind: Assault on a police officer, assault with a deadly weapon, kidnapping, attempted murder, destruction of police property, and a few other things. They’l
l throw the book at me for sure.

  Karen was asleep again. He looked over at her and his heart sank into his shoes. He had mixed feelings about what he was doing now. If he let her continue to stay with him, she could either get hurt or end up in prison as an accomplice. If he turned himself in, he could probably get her off the hook by pleading guilty. He wondered if he was doing the right thing by running.

  She opened her eyes and looked at him. “I read your mind there, Ray.”

  “What?”

  “I can see that look on your face. You were thinking about turning yourself in, right?”

  “Yeah,” Ray said. “It’s crossed my mind.”

  “Forget it. We’re staying together no matter what happens. You got that?”

  “I don’t want you to end up in jail too, that’s all,” he said. “If I turn myself in, I can probably get you off without you going to jail. I mean, I was the one who beat up that cop back there, not you.”

  “It’s my decision,” she said. “Either we find a way out of this together or we go down together. I’m not afraid.”

  “Okay.” Ray turned his attention back to the road.

  Karen took out a tissue and dabbed at her eyes. “Do you still love me, Ray?”

  “Of course I do,” he said. “But I wish I had that cop in front of me right now, I’ll tell you that. I’d kick his fucking ass again right up around his goddamn ears. How do you feel?”

  “A little sore down there, but I’m okay. Let’s not talk about it right now, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  She changed the subject. “How much farther to Eureka?”

  “We’re almost at the California border,” said Ray. It’s about two hours past that to Ben’s place. He’s got a little ranch just outside of town.”

  “You think he will help us? I thought you hadn’t heard from him since Iraq.”

  “He called me a couple of times last year. He said for us to stop in anytime and see him. In fact, it sounded like he wanted to see me for some reason.”

  Karen made a face. “I don’t think he meant with the cops on our tails.”

  “He owes me,” said Ray.

  “Well, if you think it’s safe. Do you have his number?”

  “It’s in my wallet,” said Ray.

  “Get it out. I’ll give him a call on my cell.”

  “Bad idea, Karen. The cops might be able to trace your cell later.”

  “No they won’t. Remember? We couldn’t pay the bill on my smart phone. This is the phone I picked up at the Seven-Eleven yesterday for the trip down.”

  He found the card with Ben’s number and handed it to her. “What are you going to say to him?”

  Karen entered the number, and put the phone to her ear. “I’ll say we’re on our way to Texas and we’re stopping by for a visit.” She paused to listen. “It’s ringing.”

  “Hope he’s home,” said Ray. “You’ll have to get rid of that phone later, you know.”

  “I know. Should be safe for a while, though. I didn’t have to give my name to get it.” She tapped Ray on the arm. “He’s home,” she whispered, then into the phone she spoke, “Hello, is this Ben Cummings? Hi, this is Karen Morris. Yes, that’s right. We’re fine...how are you doing? Ray and I are on our way to Texas and he wanted me to call you and see if we can stop by for a visit...yes, we’re driving one of those rental trucks.” She paused for a moment. “Oh, I’ll ask.” She put her hand over the phone. “He wants to know if you need directions,” she said.

  “No.”

  “No, Ben. He says he knows where you live. We should be there in about...” She looked up at Ray for the answer.

  “Two hours or so,” said Ray.

  “About two hours,” Karen said into the phone. “Okay, see you then.” She ended the call.

  “Did he sound okay about us stopping by?” Ray asked.

  “He sure did. He must like you an awful lot.”

  “I don’t think he likes me that much. Keep an eye on him. He’s a little on the gung-ho side.” Ray watched as a police car passed them going in the other direction and was glad to see the cop was looking at something on his lap while he drove. Ray kept an eye on the police car in the mirror and was relieved to see it did not make a sudden u-turn. When he glanced at Karen, he saw she was looking back at the cop from the mirror on her side as well. “That was close,” he said.

  When they reached the turnoff to Ben Cummings’ ranch, Ray was thankful to exit the main highway. It was now eight in the morning and only luck had kept them from being spotted by the police. He was certain that the alarm had gone out by now, although they had no way of knowing for sure because the radio in the truck didn’t work. He wondered if they would make the evening news, and if so, how much coverage the media would give to the story.

  About ten miles from the highway, the road turned to gravel and Ray slowed the truck down. “We’re almost there,” he said. “He sent me a picture once and there’s a sign...well, look...there it is.”

  Up ahead a large hanging sign read C Bar-K Ranch, with a smaller dirt road leading up a hill to a couple of barns and a small two-story house. The house was painted blue and the barns red. They pulled up in front of the house and stopped.

  A man with blond hair past his shoulders and a long beard walked out onto the front porch. He waved and went up to the truck.

  Ray rolled down the window. “Ben? Is that you?”

  “Yep. Like my new hairstyle? Brother, you two are in one hell of a situation,” he said. “You had better come inside. We’ll talk about it over breakfast.”

  Ray hung his head. “You heard?”

  “Of course I did, man. I watch TV.”

  Ben Cummings had made Ray park the truck inside one of the barns and then shut the barn door to keep it out of sight. Afterwards, he led them into the kitchen and laid out three plates with bacon and scrambled eggs.

  “If you’re wondering why I look like this,” Ben said, touching his long hair, “it’s because this is how I looked before I joined the Army.”

  “Really? Thought you were a brunette,” said Ray.

  Ben laughed. “That’s funny. It just suits my current lifestyle out here in the sticks. I’ll explain later.” He took a bite of his eggs and washed it down with a sip of coffee. “All right, Ray. You want to explain to me what the hell happened up in Oregon? You two are all over the TV news. I recorded it on my DVR just a few minutes before you pulled up. They know who you are and everything. They say you tried to kill a state cop. And that you kidnapped him.”

  “That cop had it coming,” said Karen defensively. “And Ray didn’t try to kill him.” She pushed the plate of food away. “I can’t eat right now. She picked up her coffee and went into the living room. “Ray can tell you about it.”

  “Well?” said Ben.

  “Wasn’t my fault.” Ray explained the incident on the Forest Service road, and then the events at the hospital afterward. “That cop didn’t give me a choice,” he said.

  “He sounds like an asshole, all right,” said Ben. “I don’t know if that counts in your favor very much, though. What are you going to do? You thinking about getting a lawyer? Turning yourself in?”

  “And what chance do you think I would have in court?” Ray said bitterly. “They’ll stuff my ass into the pen for life.”

  “And they’ll catch you eventually if you keep on running,” Ben replied. “Sure, you can stay here for a while, but sooner or later they’re going to start tracking down your friends and relatives and that means they’ll show up here at some point. The F.B.I. might even get involved.”

  “Why?”

  “Interstate flight to avoid prosecution, that’s why.”

  “You worried you’ll get into trouble for harboring us?”

  “Fuck no, Ray. You know better than that. But you need a plan to get out of this shit or you’re going nowhere but prison for a long goddamn time.”

  “I know that,” said Ray. “I’m thinking about going to Me
xico.”

  “That won’t work for long. If you get picked up in Mexico, they’ll put you into one of their own jails, or they’ll ship you back to the States. Sometimes they do both. If you’re planning to leave the country, you’ll have to run farther than Mexico, and you need a place that doesn’t have an extradition treaty with the good old U.S.A.”

  Ray sprinkled some salt and pepper on his eggs and wolfed them down in a couple of bites. “I don’t know much about that stuff,” he said. “I don’t want to live in Algeria or fucking Iran, that’s all I know.”

  “Well, buddy, I just happen to know a few of the countries on that no-extradition list. Let’s just say I had my own reasons to run them up on an internet search. Most are in either Africa or Asia, and a few of them are places you wouldn’t want to live, especially if you’re an American. There are a couple where you might fit in, but you need two big things to pull it off.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like a lot of money and a legitimate passport with a name on it other than your own.” He shook his head. “No matter where you end up, it’s always going to be the same thing. You need some solid identification and you need money to live on. Since you didn’t kill anyone, you might be able to get away with it. Eventually they’ll stop actively looking for you. Then you just have to stay out of trouble wherever you end up.”

  “But I won’t be able to come back to the States ever again, right?” Ray said.

  “That’s right. Don’t worry; you wouldn’t be the only expatriate American living abroad.”

  Ray looked doubtful. “All we have is fifteen hundred dollars,” he said. “That’s not enough to leave the country.”

  “You got that right, buddy. The passports alone will cost you ten thousand each, but they’re good and can’t be traced because the identities they’re based on are from people who never existed. They are completely made-up identities.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Think about it, captain,” said Ben. “You can get fake passports, but most of them are based on real people. Either they are dead people, or their identities have been stolen. In either case, it’s only a matter of time before the government figures it out. You need identities that are clean, can’t be broken later, and are completely made up. Otherwise, someone’s going to cancel that passport at a future date and you’ll end up being deported from whatever country you’re hiding in.”