IN THE MOMENTS SINCE Zeke shot the driver of the car that had crashed into their van, Gus hadn’t spoken. An accident maybe, but Zeke had overreacted. Their job was to remain unseen, and in three short shots, Zeke had blown their anonymity. There would be witnesses for sure. Gus slammed the van into gear and sped away, the van’s automatic transmission wheezing at the surprising demand for maximum acceleration. Zeke was also quiet. Perhaps he now realized the gravity of what he had done, but Gus wasn’t convinced.
“We have to dump the van,” Gus said.
Zeke didn’t react.
“We have to find another one. Keep an eye out.”
They tucked into a side street from Sainte-Catherine, went under the Jacques Cartier Bridge, and continued eastward toward Hochelaga-Maisonneuve. In the early evening, traffic was heavy. They passed countless parked cars but no vans.
Gus’s cellphone buzzed. He pulled it out from his jacket. “Yes?”
“It’s me.” Ash. The boss. “Get your butts moving. You’ll pick up the next shipment in New Brunswick. It’s on its way right now. You’ve got to be there in twelve hours.”
“Where?”
“I’ll send you a location. It’s on the Bay of Fundy. It’s remote and quiet. You won’t have any problems. What have you got?”
“A cube van.”
“Big enough. Don’t bring attention to yourself. Got it?”
“Where are we taking the shipment? The same place as before?”
“I’ll tell you later.”
Zeke grunted, “There’s one.”
A lone unmarked white van, similar in size to theirs, sat on the far side of the street. Gus turned onto the first cross street and parked their vehicle. He wiped the steering wheel, dashboard, and door handles with a grimy towel from behind his seat. He shoved the rental agreement in his jacket pocket, hopped out, and walked to the empty van. He glared at Zeke; it was his turn to redeem himself. Zeke understood and sauntered over to the passenger’s side window, shielded the view with his hand, pulled out a slim jim, and in a few seconds had unlocked the door. Gus was impressed with the well-rehearsed smoothness of his action.
Zeke crawled into the van, leaned over, and unlocked the driver’s door. Gus slipped into the driver’s seat and pulled the ignition wires as he had done countless times before. He rubbed his hands to warm up, and in less than a minute the van sputtered to life. He shifted the gear to drive, looked over his left shoulder, then ahead, and drove east. Deeper into the mysterious plan. Deeper into this foreign land.