Chapter 2

      On the Run

      There was so much blood. I…

      It was everywhere. I mean, my vision was practically going red from how much blood there was. Fuck, this was such a stupid, goddamn idea. What the hell were we thinking robbing a bank? Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Okay, try and keep a cool head. Turn on the AC, play the Zeppelin tape, and kick back. Forget that you have three dead partners in the car with you, forget about the blood spattered everywhere, forget about the blood and possibly bone of your best friend’s skull on your cheek.

      “Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!”

      Huff, huff. Okay, it was dark. I just needed to keep driving. I needed to get out of Nebraska, cross the state line, ditch the car on the road, walk to a motel, keep it low-key for a day, hot-wire another ride, and pass a few more state lines. Then it would be good to lie low for a while.

      Okay…okay, that’s the plan. Just keep driving, and I’ll get there. Just keep driving. Don’t think about it. Don’t think about Billy, John, and Mark. They’re dead. No point to ponder on the deceased.

      It was silent for a hundred miles. Nothing but plains of nothing. My headlights, the road, no radio, just silence. The tires grazing across the asphalt barely made a noise. It was the rotation that was almost relaxing me, but I thought my ears might be blown out from the gunshots when it all went wrong. My stomach began to growl. I was sure the adrenaline ate up all the energy that I had stored away. Good thing I ate those frosted flakes forty minutes before the gig. I was tired and hungry. I’d need to pull over soon. I prayed there was a diner or motel or just something along the highway.

      There was silence and wind—the howling winds. Two-lane highway and me, alone.

      Another thirty minutes went by. I stopped keeping count of the miles. My eyes were slowly closing. I thought I saw a light on the horizon. I checked the time, and it should be dark for another couple of hours. I prayed it was a diner. I could park, eat a burger, and get some coffee. Just…I just needed something. The growling hurt now; my head was pounding.

      Okay, here we go over the crest. Thank God we’re over it now.

      There it was in all its beauty—the diner in the middle of nowhere. I finally stepped on the brakes, friendly and easy, so I wouldn’t look suspicious rolling in. I saw the lights on, so that must mean they were open. I rolled up real slow, and I turned off the lights. I had shades to cover the windows in the glove, so I placed those all around. I hope there aren’t any bullet holes in the car. I couldn’t tell you how many shots I heard fired once we got going. Finally, after padding up the car, I stepped out and saw the neon shining down on me.

      “Diner, 24-7.”

      Under the neon blues, I walked into a happy place. I saw a gentleman sitting in the far-left corner. He was wearing a large white trench coat and seemed to be reading the paper. His car must be in the back. I thought I didn’t see it out front. I rang the bell on the counter, and he didn’t even pull the paper down. A noise from the kitchen rattled through the empty zone.

      “One minute!”

      Oh, thank God.

      “Yeah, yeah…take your time. I’ll take a seat.”

      I seated myself on the far-right side of the diner and grabbed one of the day’s papers along the bar. I thought this would be the first time I ever read the article. As soon as I took my seat, a gorgeous, small-town blondie came from the kitchen in her cute apron and hair tie. She had the smile of an angel, and it calmed me down…for even just a little.

      “What will it be, hon?”

      “Oh…sorry. I’ll take a coffee and a burger, please. No cheese.”

      “Great, will that be all?”

      “I believe so. Say, what brings a pretty girl like you all the way out here?”

      “Fella, I…I don’t mean to be rude, but let’s just stick to the customer-employee thing.”

      “Oh, sorry.”

      “I’ll have your order right up.”

      “Thanks.”

      Well, that was embarrassing. Nothing was going right today. I slouched back into the squeaky plastic bar seats. As I rolled into the most comfortable position I could think of, my eyes darted to the opposite side of the diner. The strange fellow was no longer there, just a coffee cup.

      “Norman.”

      I looked to my right, and behind the counter was the man I saw when I walked in. How did I not see him move? I wondered if he worked here.

      “Do I know you?”

      “No, kid, I don’t believe you do.”

      “So do you work here or something’?”

      “I reckon I don’t.”

      “Behind the counter, then just for the hell of it?”

      “If it pleases me, then yes.”

      “Would the waitress approve?”

      “Oh, I wouldn’t worry about her. It seems to be just you and me, Norman.”

      Okay, the hair on the back of my neck was raising directly toward the heavens. Here I was fresh off a bank robbery, on the run from state police, with three dead friends in the car, and I was seated inside a diner talking to a man who knew my name, yet I’d never met him before. The waitress! I could ask her to come on out.

      “Hello! Waitress! Can I make a change to my order?”

      “Son, she’s out back on her smoke break. She won’t hear you. May I take a seat with you?”

      “Depends, tell me how you know my name.”

      As he moved from behind the counter, I could now see his entire frame. He was massive.

      “I know quite a few names, Norman. Are you asking how I know yours specifically?”

      “Yes.”

      He took a seat directly across the table, staring—that was what he was doing—in absolute silence. His eyes…I’d never seen anything like them before. They were soulless things. I couldn’t decide whether I should be afraid or intrigued.

      “Well, Norman, I know why you’re here.”

      “A-and why’s that, mister?”

      “Jacket. Mr. Jacket. Why you ask, son? Well, I know you’re on the run…”

      Fuck. How could he know? I… There must be a spot of blood somewhere on me. I had a guilty face riddled all over my expression, and now I was sweating. He was just going to keep drilling me.

      “Are you okay, Norman? You seem to be uncomfortable. Am I making you uncomfortable?”

      “N-n-no, sir, it’s just…”

      Then it clicked in my head. Just lie. He doesn’t know.

      “Well, I’ve been on the run for a while, you see. My ma and pa, they kicked me out for roughing around in the household. Ya know, with a girl they didn’t take a liking to. She and I split up a few hundred miles back after an argument,