Part 17 (1/2)

Aaron took several delicious sips of water, with short breaths between. Though still in considerable pain, and in spite of his dizziness, he was thinking clearly, now, and he knew what had to be done. ”I have to be,” he replied.

w.i.l.l.y found a black wool overcoat draped over a chair and picked it up; it hung thick and heavy in his hands. He carried it over and showed it to Aaron.

”Look what I found,” he said. ”Try it on for size.” He held the coat for Aaron as he slid an arm into one sleeve.

”It's warm,” Aaron said, running a hand over the thick weave. The coat draped nearly to his ankles. ”Thanks, w.i.l.l.y.”

w.i.l.l.y rolled up the bulky sleeves for him and straightened the lapels. ”I should say, old chap,” he remarked. ”You look rather dapper.”

He shoved the bottle of morphine tablets into his pocket and picked up the lantern. ”Are you ready?” he asked.

”Ready,” Aaron replied bravely. ”But there's some stuff we need to do on the way out.”

”No problem,” w.i.l.l.y said. ”Lead the way.”

Chapter 45.

Not a Good Hideout Aaron leaned on w.i.l.l.y as they made their way to the cannery's main-floor store room. Rain drummed the metal roof high overhead, and multiple streams of water poured through gaps in the sheeting and splashed on the floor below.

Aaron winced as a stab of pain cut through the morphine. ”I'm sorry I was an a.s.shole earlier,” he said. ”I don't know what happened to me.”

w.i.l.l.y had to agree with him. ”You really were being a s.h.i.+t, you know.”

Aaron smiled and leaned on w.i.l.l.y a bit more.

The store room was full of loaded duffel bags. Aaron ran his hand over one of them and then sat down on it to rest.

”Check the other bags,” he said. ”We're looking for the one with guns in it.”

”Guns?”

”We're not in Kansas anymore, Toto.”

One by one, w.i.l.l.y opened the bags. The first contained white painter's jumpsuits, others miscellaneous gear.

He found a bag full of cash and held the lantern high above it, using his free hand to wipe his gla.s.ses on his s.h.i.+rt. ”Check it out,” he said, excited.

”Guns, w.i.l.l.y,” Aaron said. ”We're looking for guns.”

w.i.l.l.y reluctantly closed the money bag and continued searching.

He located the armory bag, reached in, and pulled out a s.h.i.+ny, black a.s.sault rifle. ”b.l.o.o.d.y h.e.l.l, Aaron,” he said, turning the weapon over in his hands. ”You'd probably blow your d.a.m.n w.i.l.l.y off with one of these.”

”Yeah a or yours,” Aaron said. ”Here, I'll take it ... the ammo should be in the same bag.”

w.i.l.l.y handed him the gun then found a loaded magazine.

”Now, pay attention,” Aaron said, and w.i.l.l.y watched in amazement as his friend demonstrated proper loading technique.

”... then insert the magazine into the slot below the trigger, here,” Aaron continued, ”and push it up from the bottom till it clicks. Give it a good smack to make sure it stays in, then yank on it to be sure.” He showed w.i.l.l.y how to set the safety, then like a hardened soldier preparing for battle, slung the loaded rifle over his good shoulder.

”Okay ... now do yours,” he said.

w.i.l.l.y pulled another rifle from the sack and did as he had been instructed. Aaron showed him how to hold the gun and release the safety.

”Okay, there's one more thing we need to do,” Aaron said.

w.i.l.l.y held Aaron's arm over his shoulders, and they made their way outside to the boiler house.

”I remember this place,” w.i.l.l.y said, adjusting the lantern's twin mantles for maximum light. ”It's creepy in here. And it smells funny.”

Aaron wrinkled his nose. ”You're right, it does.”

”Bring the light over here,” Aaron said. ”I helped Tom repair one of these once.”

w.i.l.l.y held the lantern high. ”So, what are we doing?”

Aaron located the boiler's valve cl.u.s.ter. ”We're going to blow this place to h.e.l.l.”

w.i.l.l.y thought about that for a moment and decided it made sense.

Aaron reached in and turned the pressure regulator adjustment k.n.o.b all the way up. Then he disabled the pressure relief valve with a wrap of wire. The needle on the steam-pressure gauge started to rise.

”That should do it,” he said. ”Let's get the heck out of here.”

Chapter 46.

His Woman Needles had taken the white van and gone to get burgers for himself and Beeks; he sat alone at a red light drinking a cup of coffee. His cell phone rang and he set the cup in a holder and answered the call.

”Needles,” a woman's voice said, ”this is Brandy.”

Needles was quite surprised. ”Well, h.e.l.lo, Brandy,” he said politely.

”I'll get right to the point,” she said. ”You know about Johnny's meeting with that woman tonight, right?”

”At Sally's ... yes.” He glanced at his watch. 6:02 p.m. ”In just under half-an-hour.”