North on I-35 [Index of Writers and their contributions]
Fifth section by Rebecca Macintyre
| "Hurry up, Amber," April said.
"I am Mommy, but I just have to go." April leaned her head against the cool tiles. Oh God. What a mess. Where had she seen Burnette before, heard that voice? Never mind. Give it a minute. She took a deep breath. "Amber honey, hurry up." "I am Mommy, but I gotta go." April folded her arms across her chest and closed her eyes. She felt like shit. How did Jason fuck this up? And who the hell was Burnette? Was he one of their drivers that Jason recruited? He said they'd worked together. He could have been hired in the last few months, after she raised hell with Jason. She remembered the scene well. Six months ago, he'd come home from a transport. He'd almost had a run in with the border patrol. Again. He barely escaped, but she'd been furious with Jason. After five hauls of illegal cargo, taking whatever crumbs Jimenez wanted to throw them, April decided to call the shots. "Why should Jimenez make all the money? You're the one putting your neck on the line," she'd insisted. "Honey," he'd said, "it's good money. $5,000 per trip. A few more and we'll be fine." God he was such a small thinker. "Fine?" she'd asked. "No, Jason. $30.000 or so does not make us fine. Jimenez must be making hundreds of thousands on that haul. What's in the cargo?" She'd asked him so many times before. He knew. They both knew but saying it out loud could be dangerous. They'd never know who was listening. "Look, April. This is good. A couple of more hauls." He'd turned away from her. Argument dismissed. But April wasn't taking that answer, not this time. If he wasn't going to take care of business, then she would. "No. If we're going to do this, then you need to do it right. You know what's in the cargo and you know the delivery schedule. Make your own deal. Tell Jimenez you know the best routes, that you can recruit more drivers. You can get him all the drivers he wants. Then negotiate for our cut. Six months or a year, with you directing traffic, we'll be set for life." Finally, he'd agreed. And, to her surprise, Jimenez had agreed to see them. April insisted on going. She wasn't going to turn this all over to Jason, let him screw it up. So they went to the mansion north of Monterrey in the foothills of the Sierra Madre Oriental. Jimenez was more than pleased with their proposal. Without talking about the particulars of the cargo, he directed Jason to start recruiting drivers, setting up more routes. Their cut of the profits would be enormous. Jimenez and his lieutenants were excited about it. Oh my God that was it! That's where she'd seen "Burnette". Only he wasn't blond and clean shaven then. His beard and hair were dark brown, but the lopsided sneer, the squinting eyes were the same. Oh yes. That was Burnette. Amber emerged from the stall, zipping her jeans as she walked. "Come on honey," said April. "Wash up." "I'm going as fast as I can, Mommy." "Amber, honey? I want you to listen to Mommy, ok?" Her eyes wide and staring, Amber nodded solemnly. "The man out there that I was talking to? Who said he knew Daddy? He's a bad man." The child's eyes grew round and her mouth formed a small o. "Will he get us?" she asked. April hugged her daughter close. "No sweetheart, he won't. But I want you to do exactly what I tell you, ok?" Amber's ponytail bobbed as she nodded. "When we go out of the bathroom, I want you to hold tight to my hand and be very quiet, tip-toe, ok? We're going to creep around the corner and go down the back stairs. But we have to be quiet, ok?" The little girl nodded solemnly and took her mother's hand. Pulling her mother's arm toward her, Amber stood on her toes to whisper in her mother's ear. "Mommy, do you have a gun?" Jesus. Where did the kid get that? If Jason had been showing off to her again, she'd. . . Well, she didn't have time for that now. She reached into her handbag, curled her fingers around the Walther and flicked the safety to "ready". It gave her a small measure of comfort. "Just do what I say, Amber. Ok? Nice and quiet?" Amber nodded again. April reached for the door handle and pulled. She scanned the hall to her left. "Burnette" stood with his back to them, looking out the window to the parking lot below. April guided her daughter in front of her and while watching Burnette's back, took three silent strides around the corner. About half way down the hall on her right, a cop sat, his chair tipped back on two legs, resting against the wall. Jason's room. Maybe he was out of surgery. Or maybe the cop was waiting until they brought him from recovery. Holding Amber's hand, she slowed her gait and examined the room numbers, just another visitor looking for a friend or relative. As they approached, the cop nodded and met her eyes, his expression open and Texas-friendly. "Morning, mam," he said. |
This is part 5 of a story
written by a 'committee' - writers from the Writing Workshop.
It will be gradually added to as each new section appears.
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