[Fanfic] Driving.
A lake as seemingly vast as the Indian Ocean swelled and dipped, swelled and dipped. A wind curled around the tall towers of the inner city, flooding it with a warm summer breeze - the only relief to an otherwise sticky day. Across Illinois air-conditioners fired up and blasting out their cycles of cooled air into offices, cars, bedrooms. Swimming pools begged use, ceiling fans rotated lazily, and ice cubes melted in glasses of restaurant water.
Somewhere in the eastern regions of Kansas a lone white car hummed along an empty stretch of highway. Michael sat in the middle of the backseats, pressed up against a sweat-beaded Bellick and Nika. His head lolled backwards, emptily gazing at the tan upholstery of the car roof. Michael could feel slow rivets of sweat crawl down his lower back and sink into the leather of his belt.
He strained to glance down at his Timex watch without moving his head, May 28th. Closing his eyes he thought about how he’d be planning his summer vacation this time of year were he still in Chicago. Mexico, Thailand… He’d wanted to see Cambodia this year. Panama drifted in front of his eyes, white sand beaches, beers bought out of ice-boxes on the roadside, coral reefs that swept through the azure waters like a paintbrush’s stroke over a blue silk canvas.
In the car the smell of Brad and Roy's unwashed bodies mingled with the few whiffs of the musky perfume from Nika's hair. Allowing his neck to relax, Michael's head flopped sideways to bring Nika into view.
Gazing out the window, she watching the suspended wires that ran alongside the road swell and dip, swell and dip. In front of her, Roy filled up the driver's seat, his rounded body pushing up against the door of the crammed car. Lincoln sat tensely in the passenger’s seat, hands and feet tethered together in a crude, makeshift four-piece. Nika could feel Michael's gaze on her neck. She felt uncomfortable, being so close to him, knowing he was looking at her, and just waiting for her to meet his gaze. Swallowing back, she pulled a hand up to her face, stroking back thin strands of sweat-matted hair.
"I need to stop."
Roy Geary peered into the rear view mirror at Nika, "You can't make the demands, and we keep driving until we get to Utah."
"Come on Boss, we haven't stopped for hours." Lincoln could feel the muscles in his left leg cramping; he longed to stretch his thigh where the bullet had grazed him. Thoughts of LJ had been flicking around his mind all day; the toy gun hitting the marbled floor; of his son's face begging him to let go, to run. The letting go, that was the hardest, feeling LJ literally slip away from his iron-grip. That was the hardest.
Lincoln furrowed his eyebrows in the way that formed that deep V-shaped valley just above the bridge of his nose; he pulled at his four-piece to reach for his stolen ray-bans on the dashboard.
Michael turned to face Brad, "Bellick?"
Head bobbing, mentally weighing up the options, he pulled a stout gun out of the clammy waistband of his pants.
"Fine. Pull over."
~
“This money, it had better be there man.”
“I know.” Swallowing, “It will be Linc.”
Moving closer to his brother, Lincoln lowered his voice, “What about them? I won’t let them just take it all. We ain’t in Fox River anymore; I won’t be shaken down by these thugs.”
Michael twisted his shoulders around, watching Nika stagger through the brush trailed by Bellick and his roving gun.
“It’s your turn to watch the cons, Brad.”
“Why should I have to do it?”
“Because I just did.”
Brad grunted. Geary ambled away from the roadside towards a thicket of trees.
Had Michael not seen the gun that languidly rolled between Lincoln, Nika and himself he would not have hesitated to pin Bellick against the still-hot bonnet of their car and knock him out cold. Predator, vile, fifthly, predator. Michael questioned how Brad had been raised; how a man who most likely led a mundane life could be filled with such contempt, such disrespect.
“Move it, Nika.”
The very way Bellick hissed Nika’s name; softly uttering the Ni as he built up to the harsh climax of the K, only to then ease his way through the final vowel… It revolted Michael to the point of violence.
He was not proud of Nika, choosing the line of work that she had, but he understood it. He understood it the same way he now understood why his brother had borrowed the $90,000, the same way he understood that to save Lincoln he had to break out of Fox River.
It was the ends that justified the means.
Yet, Michael felt responsible for the striking Hungarian. He cared for her because he had helped her; he had given his hand to her. He cared because… He cared for her because she cared for him.
“Who needs a summer vacation when you have heat like this all the way here is Kansas, right? But I bet you don’t get too many holidays in Budapest.” Bellick was smirking, “Maybe when we’ve got the old man’s cash you and I can go on a trip down to, say, Mejico?”
Michael saw the way Bellick’s eyes poured over the dark beauty, and Michael knew he had got him.
“I know what to do.”
~
Somewhere in the eastern regions of Kansas a lone white car hummed along an empty stretch of highway. Michael sat in the middle of the backseats, pressed up against a sweat-beaded Bellick and Nika. His head lolled backwards, emptily gazing at the tan upholstery of the car roof. Michael could feel slow rivets of sweat crawl down his lower back and sink into the leather of his belt.
He strained to glance down at his Timex watch without moving his head, May 28th. Closing his eyes he thought about how he’d be planning his summer vacation this time of year were he still in Chicago. Mexico, Thailand… He’d wanted to see Cambodia this year. Panama drifted in front of his eyes, white sand beaches, beers bought out of ice-boxes on the roadside, coral reefs that swept through the azure waters like a paintbrush’s stroke over a blue silk canvas.
In the car the smell of Brad and Roy's unwashed bodies mingled with the few whiffs of the musky perfume from Nika's hair. Allowing his neck to relax, Michael's head flopped sideways to bring Nika into view.
Gazing out the window, she watching the suspended wires that ran alongside the road swell and dip, swell and dip. In front of her, Roy filled up the driver's seat, his rounded body pushing up against the door of the crammed car. Lincoln sat tensely in the passenger’s seat, hands and feet tethered together in a crude, makeshift four-piece. Nika could feel Michael's gaze on her neck. She felt uncomfortable, being so close to him, knowing he was looking at her, and just waiting for her to meet his gaze. Swallowing back, she pulled a hand up to her face, stroking back thin strands of sweat-matted hair.
"I need to stop."
Roy Geary peered into the rear view mirror at Nika, "You can't make the demands, and we keep driving until we get to Utah."
"Come on Boss, we haven't stopped for hours." Lincoln could feel the muscles in his left leg cramping; he longed to stretch his thigh where the bullet had grazed him. Thoughts of LJ had been flicking around his mind all day; the toy gun hitting the marbled floor; of his son's face begging him to let go, to run. The letting go, that was the hardest, feeling LJ literally slip away from his iron-grip. That was the hardest.
Lincoln furrowed his eyebrows in the way that formed that deep V-shaped valley just above the bridge of his nose; he pulled at his four-piece to reach for his stolen ray-bans on the dashboard.
Michael turned to face Brad, "Bellick?"
Head bobbing, mentally weighing up the options, he pulled a stout gun out of the clammy waistband of his pants.
"Fine. Pull over."
~
“This money, it had better be there man.”
“I know.” Swallowing, “It will be Linc.”
Moving closer to his brother, Lincoln lowered his voice, “What about them? I won’t let them just take it all. We ain’t in Fox River anymore; I won’t be shaken down by these thugs.”
Michael twisted his shoulders around, watching Nika stagger through the brush trailed by Bellick and his roving gun.
“It’s your turn to watch the cons, Brad.”
“Why should I have to do it?”
“Because I just did.”
Brad grunted. Geary ambled away from the roadside towards a thicket of trees.
Had Michael not seen the gun that languidly rolled between Lincoln, Nika and himself he would not have hesitated to pin Bellick against the still-hot bonnet of their car and knock him out cold. Predator, vile, fifthly, predator. Michael questioned how Brad had been raised; how a man who most likely led a mundane life could be filled with such contempt, such disrespect.
“Move it, Nika.”
The very way Bellick hissed Nika’s name; softly uttering the Ni as he built up to the harsh climax of the K, only to then ease his way through the final vowel… It revolted Michael to the point of violence.
He was not proud of Nika, choosing the line of work that she had, but he understood it. He understood it the same way he now understood why his brother had borrowed the $90,000, the same way he understood that to save Lincoln he had to break out of Fox River.
It was the ends that justified the means.
Yet, Michael felt responsible for the striking Hungarian. He cared for her because he had helped her; he had given his hand to her. He cared because… He cared for her because she cared for him.
“Who needs a summer vacation when you have heat like this all the way here is Kansas, right? But I bet you don’t get too many holidays in Budapest.” Bellick was smirking, “Maybe when we’ve got the old man’s cash you and I can go on a trip down to, say, Mejico?”
Michael saw the way Bellick’s eyes poured over the dark beauty, and Michael knew he had got him.
“I know what to do.”
~