The Road Back
Matt was gone in the Miata before the VW bus reached Ron and the boys. In fact, the bus never did quite reach them. About 100 yards up the road, it weaved into a gravel pull off and stopped. Ron got the boys moving, and they jogged up the highway toward it. Ron limped along behind.
The windows were tinted, and Ron could barely make out the figure inside once he got up to it. He moved to the driver’s side, and the window slowly began to roll down. A thin man with long stringy hair and half-closed, bloodshot eyes looked out at him.
“Hey, man,” he said, his voice distant, like he was talking from another dimension. “What’s up?”
“We have an emergency. Can you to take us into Park City?”
“Yeah, no problem, man. The van’s yours. But I don’t think I can drive right now. I tried that already. It didn’t work out too well. I need to get in the back and sleep for a while. Just leave the keys in the ignition when you’re done.” The man began to get up and crawl across the seats toward the back of the van. A mixture of alcohol fumes and marijuana smoke escaped the open window as the man shifted position.
“You sure it’s okay?” Ron asked. The man looked back over his shoulder and shrugged before he tipped over in the seat, unconscious.
Ron poked his head inside the window and looked down at the floorboard. The van was an automatic. Ron had only one good foot, but that was all he would need. He pulled his head out of the van, and the sudden movement sent bright streaks racing from his pupils back to his brain, leaving darkness in his wake. The last thing he registered was his body falling to the ground.
“You okay, Brother K?” JR was helping him up to a sitting position.
Ron felt a strange urge to join the van’s owner on one of the backseats in a two-day sleep-a-thon. It wasn’t a good idea for him to drive, but he really had no choice. Then his eyes cleared, and he took another look at JR. The boy seemed to have matured five years in the last few days. “JR,” Ron said. “It’s your lucky day.”
“Whadda you mean?” JR asked, his eyes brightening. “Are you going to let me drive?”
“No,” Ron said. “But you are going to be my copilot.”
“Copilot?”
“Yes. That means you need to keep me awake on the way to Park City. If I start to drift, poke me. If I pass out, put your foot on the brake until the van stops. I’ll be going slow, so it won’t be hard.”
JR’s face went pale. “But I’ve never driven on the road before.”
“You aren’t driving. You’re copiloting.”
JR bit his lip.
“Would you rather Eric do it? We could ask Joey, but I don’t think he would be able to see over the dashboard or reach the brake.”
Eric started to look excited.
“I’ll do it,” JR said quickly with a sidelong look at Eric.
“We just have to get to Park City. It’s a straight shot, and the road doesn’t wind too much. Let’s all get in the van. Roll down the windows to air it out, and try not to disturb our sleeping host. As promised, we’re headed to my condo.”
The boys piled in, and Eric said, “Easy Cheese, here I come.”
Ron smiled. It was almost as if they were back to where they had started before they’d set out on this trip, back to a time of innocent adolescence. But who was he kidding? The road back never felt the same as the one that brought him. Even if he traveled the same route, even if he was looking at the same trees, even if he was talking to the same people, the road back was always different. Always quietly satisfying. And a little bit sad.
* * *
Tim looked too large for his Miata, and he wasn’t a great conversationalist, but that was just fine with me. I needed to think, and making small talk while we traveled would just be a distraction.
Tim had the top of the convertible off and the radio turned up and was humming along to the tunes. He seemed to be enjoying himself—maybe a little too much. For a moment, I had an awful thought: what if Tim was another one of Dempsey’s mercenaries? What if I was playing right into their hands? What if the reason Tim was so happy was because he was getting an extra bonus for bringing me in?
But as I studied Tim further, I had a hard time believing it. He just didn’t fit the part. His humming and happy façade were a little too convincing. Also convincing was the red patch that lined half his forehead. He was obviously no stranger to driving around in his convertible. And he didn’t seem to be aware of me at all. Not that I looked like much of a menace, but if Tim was one of the mercenaries, he would have been told to be careful. He was no villain. He was just . . . oblivious. And though he seemed to be plugged into nature, I didn’t feel like he had much connection to the human race.
For some reason, this thought almost disturbed me as much as thinking he was a cold-blooded killer. I turned around and looked behind me. The road was empty. Ron and the boys were back there somewhere, hopefully finding transportation to get Ron to a hospital. Leaving them behind made perfect sense—at least in my head. But my heart felt a sense of loss, like I had disconnected from the mother ship and was floating alone out in space. I turned my attention forward, and my sense of loss deepened. I had no idea where Hope, Jin, and now Peng were being held. I was sitting here with a guy named Tim who was lost in his tunes. I was stuck in the in-between.
Tim continued humming, and I continued thinking. We might have gone on like that for a long time, but both of our phones began to make angry buzzing noises at the same time and nearly scared us to death.
Tim sighed. “Looks like cell phone coverage is back on. Whaddya say we throw the darn things out? That would really help us disconnect.”
I reached inside my pocket, pulled out my phone, and scrambled with shaking fingers to open my messages.
Tim just shook his head in disgust.
I had two texts. One was from an unknown number and said only a few words. “P here. R-way. Looking at Enola G.” The text was from yesterday. It was clearly from Permelia. She always started her texts with “P here,” even though her caller ID would identify her on my phone. I’d told her this several times, but it didn’t make any difference. I was glad of that now, but I had no clue as to what the rest of her message meant or whose phone she had been using. What was R-way, and who was Enola G?
I stashed the questions in my head and looked at the next text. It was from the same number. The message was also short and succinct, but this time the meaning was clear. “If you want to see your family alive, call this #.”
Apparently Permelia had gotten hold of the phone for a few moments and tried to give me some information before it was taken away. At least I knew how to find my family. All I needed to do was call the number and get instructions on where to turn myself in. But I was at the point where I didn’t want to give Dempsey an advantage. If I could just figure out where they were without running through a bunch of check points, maybe I could tip the scales. But Permelia’s message didn’t make sense to me.
What was R-way? Could it be a railway somewhere, maybe a train station? A roadway? And “looking at Enola G”? Was Enola a person? A place? I almost started dialing my phone when I realized Dempsey had been planning this operation for some time and could have compromised my phone. Would he be privy to any call I made?
“Hey, Tim,” I said. “What cell phone provider do you have?”
Tim looked annoyed but stopped singing long enough to answer. “Verizon. Why?”
“I’m getting no bars, and I need to make a call. Any chance I can borrow your phone for a minute?”
“Knock yourself out. It’s in the glove box.” And then under his breath he mumbled, “Can’t even disconnect for five minutes.”
I was about ready to connect my foot to Tim’s body, but I restrained myself. I grabbed his phone, texted nasty messages to everyone on his contact list, and dialed a number. Okay, I didn’t send any nasty messages, but I really wanted to.
Tim jammed earbuds into his ears with disgust. Perfect. He probably wouldn’t know what to think, but I really didn’t want him listening to my conversation.
The phone on the other end rang but didn’t pick up. When it stopped ringing, it went silent. No answering machine message, nothing. Strange. I hung up and wondered what to do next. That phone was supposed to be active 24/7. I only had to wait a few seconds before Tim’s phone began to ring. I didn’t recognize the number, but I picked up anyway. “They’re calling me back,” I mouthed to Tim.
He rolled his eyes.
“Hello,” I said, wondering if I was going to get Tim’s mother on the line.
“It’s about time you called, homey,” the voice on the other end said.
“Demetrius?” I asked. “How’d you know it was me?”
“I’ve been expecting you, and my tracer says the call is coming from the Uinta Mountains. Who else would be calling me on my secure line that only about five people in the world know about?”
“Why have you been expecting my call, and why didn’t you answer the first time?”
“Zack was with Hope when somebody took them, but he passed a code to Mimi. She called Chico and me, and we moved Mimi and Shi-Shi off the grid.”
“That answers my first question. But why didn’t you answer the first time? And why did you call back on a different phone?” Something about this whole situation was starting to bother me.
“Because I can’t be sure it’s secure. As soon as we made Mimi disappear, we had all sorts of people on our tail, setting off alarms all over the place. I’m not sure what you’ve gotten yourself into, but it goes high and deep.”
“How high?”
“High enough that to keep Mimi safe, we couldn’t go to our own people. High enough that we’ll probably get fired if we ever decide to officially check in. Either that, or we might meet with a mysterious accident. Who did you tick off this time?”
“A guy named John Dempsey kidnapped Hope, Permelia, and Jin. Zack apparently caught them in the act, and they took him as well.”
“The international-gun-for-hire Dempsey? I didn’t think he worked on US soil.”
“Apparently he made an exception. He says he has a client who will pay him handsomely for delivering me and my entire family intact.”
“So you did tick someone off.”
“Probably.”
“Do you know who?”
“Not yet. But they’ve got lots of money if they hired Dempsey.”
“Huh,” Demetrius said.
“What?”
“It just doesn’t make any sense. Every time I tried to raise the subject of Zack’s disappearance through back channels, I was told to stop before I ended up on the wrong end of an investigation. They seemed a lot more interested in knowing where Chico and I were vacationing than in going after the people who took Zack. And they were even more interested in finding out about you.”
“Me?”
“Mainly about your current location. I was told it would be very good for my career if I were to report any contact with you. And damaging if I didn’t.”
“Dempsey said he would know if I tried to involve the authorities. It sounds like he has someone on the inside.”
“That would be one heck of a mole. The guys I’ve been talking to aren’t interns. And it’s not just coming from one place. Something strange is going on.”
“You can say that again,” I said, a dull pain starting to form in my temple. None of this made any sense at all. “Are you being watched?”
“We would be if Chico didn’t have some extended family nobody knows about. We’re in the clear as far as I can tell.”
“Good. Do you still remember my tracking coordinates on my watch?”
“You think I could forget?”
“Can you pull them up?”
“Sure, give me a second. Don’t you know where you are?”
I did know where I was, but I’d finally figured out what Peng was trying to say through the back window of the motor home. He’d taken my watch. He knew what it was for. He knew exactly what he was doing. “Peng has my watch,” I said. “I think he’s on his way to where Hope and Zack are being held.”
Demetrius whistled. “How’d you get him to do that?”
“I didn’t. He did it on his own. He might have a future in the business.”
“Wasn’t he giving you some problems earlier?”
“I thought he was. I was wrong. He’s an amazing kid.”
Demtrius paused, then said, “Okay, I’ve got him. Looks like he’s moving out across the west desert, headed toward the state line. Next stop, Wendover. You think they’re headed to California?”
“No, it’s got to be closer. They’re going to want me to meet them, so they can’t be too far.” I thought for a minute about the text from Permelia. “Can you do a Google search for me? Type in Enola, railway, and Wendover. Let me know what kind of hits you get.”
“That didn’t take long,” Demetrius said after a few seconds. “Except you probably meant runway instead of railway. A page popped right up: Wendover airfield, historical home of the Enola Gay hangar. Wasn’t that the plane that carried the nuclear bomb? Says the airfield is no longer operational, but they have a museum, do some air shows, and film movies there.”
“I’m pretty sure that’s where they’re being held. How far off the grid are you? Somewhere in Central or South America?”
“No way, man. We’re just down the road in Midway.”
“I thought you said you were with Chico’s long-lost relatives.”
“We are. Who would have known his relatives are Swiss? That’s why no one is going to find us.”
“Look, I’m going to rent a car in Park City. I’ll pick up another burner phone there as well. Do you think you can find a stoplight in Heber that isn’t being monitored with cameras where you can jump in my car?”
“Have you been to Heber lately? I’m not sure any of the stoplights have cameras.”
“In the meantime, see if you can do some research. I want to know what else is going on and who Dempsey’s client is.”
“You got it, Home Skillet. I’ll see you soon.”
“Did you just call me Home Skillet?”
“Don’t worry about it, man. Chico’s Swiss relatives don’t get me either.”
I finished my call with Demetrius, confirmed that Tim could indeed drop me at a rental car agency in Park City, and then picked up my own cell phone again. It was time to make contact with the enemy.
“Okay,” I texted. “You win. I’m coming in. Where can I find my family?”
It was less than thirty seconds before I heard my phone tweeting in reply.
“Hey, I thought you said you didn’t have any bars,” Tim said, his earbuds now removed.
“Just got them back.”
I read the words on the return text. No surprise. “Get to Salt Lake City. When you are near the airport, call me for more instructions. Be ready to fly.”
Dempsey was cryptic, as usual, and he was trying to make me believe I would be taking a plane somewhere. Knowing him, he would play out the game for as long as he could. He liked to be in control.
But I knew where he was hiding.