LJ Idol: Bupkis
Had it all been worth it? Yes, she told herself forcefully. Yes, it had been worth it.
It had to be.
The car sped silently through the black night. Clouds as thick as cob webs blotted out the stars, and the back roads to the manor were bereft of street lamps. All the better, she thought as she pressed on the gas harder. No light to mark their passage. They were almost home free.
Jason groaned. Nervously Claire glanced over to where he sat, doubled over in the passenger seat. Wan and sweating, he clutched at his side. The blanket was now saturated with his blood. As he pressed harder, blood from the blanket oozed out between his fingers. "Just keep pressure on it!" Claire demanded, desperate.
"Claire, I think I'm going to die."
No. Please no. She pounded the gas pedal into the floor.
**********
It had been Max who had the idea. All the estate staff knew their employer was a paranoid old billionaire, but deeper rumors spoke of a safe hidden in the bowels of the mansion. Supposedly the old man hoarded a vast portion of his wealth in this safe. After seventeen years of perfect service, Max had ingratiated himself to Mr Pembroke. The Master of the Key was nearing retirement, and longed to find his replacement. So one night, Max had been selected for an errand.
Afterward, Max knew the location of the safe. And most importantly, the combination.
**********
The alarms sounded almost immediately. A terrifying scream of a siren wailed through the mansion, echoing off the walls. Thinking quickly, Claire snatched up one of the black bags from the safe's shelves, and dashed back up the stairs. Jason and Max each grabbed two, and followed her.
They could hear the dogs barking as they pounded up the stairs and through the halls of the mansion. Max began slamming doors behind them, hoping to thwart the pursuing hounds. Statues--art by day--twisted into strange creatures in the night shadows. Cherubic faces melted into eyeless, gape-mouthed monsters, their shadowy limbs stretched out to ensnare three culprits who raced through the mansion. Portraits of important manor associates eyed their passing with haughty sneers.
Careening out the side doors, they raced across the grounds. Just a few hundred yards or so to the car, Claire thought, and she grit her teeth and ran faster. She had to make it to the car.
Light beams streamed on to the right of the group. Flashlights!
Max's head snapped back in a spray of blood, as the first gun shot rang out. His arms splayed out with the impact of the shot, the black bags skidded across the grass. Max collapsed to the ground, half his head in pieces behind him. Claire quickly darted to the left, and Jason, ever the athlete changed direction mid-step, scooped up one of Max's bags, and dashed after Claire. The detour left put their assailants at their backs, and the car just yards in front of them.
Zig-zagging across the yard, Claire prayed the bullets now streaming after the pair of them would miss. She had heard, somewhere, that best way to avoid a bullet was to zig-zag. Jesus Christ she hoped it was true.
And suddenly, the car! Claire opened the car with her fab, tossed the black bag into the back as she jumped into the driver's seat, and leaned over to open the door for Jason. Jason dove in the car and Claire tore away from the Out Building, as Jason slammed the door shut.
"Shit Claire, I think I've been shot." Jason said shoulder the black bags onto the floor. He moved his hand away from his breast and Claire could see the blood spouting from a hole in his jacket. The blood frothed as it ran.
"I think they hit a lung, Jason" Claire blanched, and tossed Jason a blanket from her back seat. Press it on the bleeding and don't move it she had commanded.
**********
Jason had grown quiet.
Claire's breathing had finally slowed to normal; it had been nearly an hour and there was no sign of anyone chasing them. She eased off the gas to match the pace of the few other cars on the road. The clouds parted to reveal a full moon, casting incandescent light upon the remote highway, and the steady thrum of the car as it hummed over the road was a pleasant contrast to the chaos of just an hour before. A sigh of relief.
Claire looked over at Jason again. His head lolled against his chest, a bubble of blood popped on his lips. The hand that pressed the blanket to his wound dropped as he shuddered, exhaling a painful last rattle of air. Her vision blurred with tears.
**********
Some miles later, the road ribboned up into the mountains. Parking on the side of the road, Claire pulled Jason out of the car, and watched as his dark form disappeared over the side of highway. The deep ravine would hide his body forever.
**********
Claire wiped away the tears and whispered silent goodbyes to Max and Jason. As she turned over the ignition, the black bags on the floor caught her eye. She picked up one of the bags from the floor and unzipped it.
Stacks upon stacks of green, pocket-sized Bibles. No.
NO!
She rifled through the second bag. And the third. Old Testaments bound to New Testaments had mimicked stacks of money when they grabbed the black bags. Why?! Had they grabbed the wrong bags?! WHO KEEPS BIBLES IN A SAFE?!?!
Claire screamed her frustrations into the steering wheel. Pounded on the dashboard with both her fists. Max and Jason were gone. And for what? Three bags of bupkis. Nothing. Nada. Zippo. Zilch.
Sobs shook her body, wails of frustration and grief tore through her chest. Claire heaved the bags of Bibles into the ravine after Jason. Then she climbed into her car.
And drove.
It had to be.
The car sped silently through the black night. Clouds as thick as cob webs blotted out the stars, and the back roads to the manor were bereft of street lamps. All the better, she thought as she pressed on the gas harder. No light to mark their passage. They were almost home free.
Jason groaned. Nervously Claire glanced over to where he sat, doubled over in the passenger seat. Wan and sweating, he clutched at his side. The blanket was now saturated with his blood. As he pressed harder, blood from the blanket oozed out between his fingers. "Just keep pressure on it!" Claire demanded, desperate.
"Claire, I think I'm going to die."
No. Please no. She pounded the gas pedal into the floor.
**********
It had been Max who had the idea. All the estate staff knew their employer was a paranoid old billionaire, but deeper rumors spoke of a safe hidden in the bowels of the mansion. Supposedly the old man hoarded a vast portion of his wealth in this safe. After seventeen years of perfect service, Max had ingratiated himself to Mr Pembroke. The Master of the Key was nearing retirement, and longed to find his replacement. So one night, Max had been selected for an errand.
Afterward, Max knew the location of the safe. And most importantly, the combination.
**********
The alarms sounded almost immediately. A terrifying scream of a siren wailed through the mansion, echoing off the walls. Thinking quickly, Claire snatched up one of the black bags from the safe's shelves, and dashed back up the stairs. Jason and Max each grabbed two, and followed her.
They could hear the dogs barking as they pounded up the stairs and through the halls of the mansion. Max began slamming doors behind them, hoping to thwart the pursuing hounds. Statues--art by day--twisted into strange creatures in the night shadows. Cherubic faces melted into eyeless, gape-mouthed monsters, their shadowy limbs stretched out to ensnare three culprits who raced through the mansion. Portraits of important manor associates eyed their passing with haughty sneers.
Careening out the side doors, they raced across the grounds. Just a few hundred yards or so to the car, Claire thought, and she grit her teeth and ran faster. She had to make it to the car.
Light beams streamed on to the right of the group. Flashlights!
Max's head snapped back in a spray of blood, as the first gun shot rang out. His arms splayed out with the impact of the shot, the black bags skidded across the grass. Max collapsed to the ground, half his head in pieces behind him. Claire quickly darted to the left, and Jason, ever the athlete changed direction mid-step, scooped up one of Max's bags, and dashed after Claire. The detour left put their assailants at their backs, and the car just yards in front of them.
Zig-zagging across the yard, Claire prayed the bullets now streaming after the pair of them would miss. She had heard, somewhere, that best way to avoid a bullet was to zig-zag. Jesus Christ she hoped it was true.
And suddenly, the car! Claire opened the car with her fab, tossed the black bag into the back as she jumped into the driver's seat, and leaned over to open the door for Jason. Jason dove in the car and Claire tore away from the Out Building, as Jason slammed the door shut.
"Shit Claire, I think I've been shot." Jason said shoulder the black bags onto the floor. He moved his hand away from his breast and Claire could see the blood spouting from a hole in his jacket. The blood frothed as it ran.
"I think they hit a lung, Jason" Claire blanched, and tossed Jason a blanket from her back seat. Press it on the bleeding and don't move it she had commanded.
**********
Jason had grown quiet.
Claire's breathing had finally slowed to normal; it had been nearly an hour and there was no sign of anyone chasing them. She eased off the gas to match the pace of the few other cars on the road. The clouds parted to reveal a full moon, casting incandescent light upon the remote highway, and the steady thrum of the car as it hummed over the road was a pleasant contrast to the chaos of just an hour before. A sigh of relief.
Claire looked over at Jason again. His head lolled against his chest, a bubble of blood popped on his lips. The hand that pressed the blanket to his wound dropped as he shuddered, exhaling a painful last rattle of air. Her vision blurred with tears.
**********
Some miles later, the road ribboned up into the mountains. Parking on the side of the road, Claire pulled Jason out of the car, and watched as his dark form disappeared over the side of highway. The deep ravine would hide his body forever.
**********
Claire wiped away the tears and whispered silent goodbyes to Max and Jason. As she turned over the ignition, the black bags on the floor caught her eye. She picked up one of the bags from the floor and unzipped it.
Stacks upon stacks of green, pocket-sized Bibles. No.
NO!
She rifled through the second bag. And the third. Old Testaments bound to New Testaments had mimicked stacks of money when they grabbed the black bags. Why?! Had they grabbed the wrong bags?! WHO KEEPS BIBLES IN A SAFE?!?!
Claire screamed her frustrations into the steering wheel. Pounded on the dashboard with both her fists. Max and Jason were gone. And for what? Three bags of bupkis. Nothing. Nada. Zippo. Zilch.
Sobs shook her body, wails of frustration and grief tore through her chest. Claire heaved the bags of Bibles into the ravine after Jason. Then she climbed into her car.
And drove.