Kitabı oku: «The Racer», sayfa 2
The departure of his boss from his post was an event that occupied a special place in Desmond’s biography. This was a separate, special chapter in his life. After winning the election, watching as he crossed the threshold of the office saying goodbye to the sheriff’s service, Desmond barely restrained himself from spitting on the bald back of his former boss and giving him a kick in the ass so that he would quickly get out. That day he felt that this was his finest hour. Now he’s the sheriff. Now this is his town. Desmond ordered everything that in any way reminded him of his predecessor to be thrown out of the office. He began to spend a lot of effort and time to develop courage, organization and self-control in his charges. This was not always possible, since many people could not meet such standards due to their nature. Using Harry as an example, Desmond was clearly convinced of this. But unlike his predecessor, Desmond knew how to find in his subordinates those skills for which they should be valued. In the end he understood that his town was not Vietnam, where people were being killed on every corner. Among other things, you also need to do paperwork, be able to find a common language with people and resolve everyday conflicts.
After the previous sheriff left, Desmond began to properly restore order. He proceeded from the fact that for Heartstone, given its scale, the level of chaos and violence was too great. Several times a week we received calls about something stolen or missing. Every couple of days there would be some kind of row in a public place. Rarely did an entire calendar year go by without some kind of murder. The only restaurant in downtown Heartstone, called Angel Heart, was a real sore spot; in it, every evening – especially on weekends – the atmosphere at first became relaxed, and after a few hours, when the alcohol began to take effect, it was already tense and plates, knives, forks, bottles and everything that could somehow be used to rip open someone’s body. Moreover, a showdown could start between people who had hardly known each other before and had never spoken, but who came to the Angel Heart and sat at tables in opposite corners. And so almost every evening, Angel Heart put someone in a hospital bed, and someone was sent to a temporary holding cell. From the very first day Desmond first took on the most problematic areas of the town, including the restaurant. For three weeks, he spent every evening at Angel Heart, bringing one of his assistants with him. Not to say that Angel Heart has ceased to instill courage in the drunken heads of visitors, but showdowns began to occur much less frequently, and over time the situation calmed down completely. The owner of the establishment did not particularly like this, because he noticed how much alcohol sales had fallen. People began to drink less so as not to give the new sheriff a reason to attack them. But the restaurant owner also found a bright side in this, because now he didn’t have to install new windows so often, buy new sets of dishes, repair door hinges and walk around the entire room in search of unnoticed traces of blood after the next showdown. And the chairs in the central hall began to last much longer, since now no one would grab them to hit someone on the back, after which, as a rule, the chairs would shatter into splinters.
And so, day after day, Desmond improved the crime situation in the town. He did something that his predecessor didn’t even bother with.
In less than a year as sheriff Desmond had gotten the situation to the point where no one was afraid to walk the streets of Heartstone in the dead of night without being raped or robbed. That year in the service for Desmond was not work, but a real fairy tale. Every single day he showed who was boss in this town. And then, over time, everything began to somehow calm down and there were no longer any particular reasons to take a revolver out of the holster and wave it in front of someone’s nose. But he didn’t have to be bored, because over time Desmond made another discovery in himself, noticing how much he liked leading other people. He saw in his subordinates a kind of complex mechanism that needed to be made to work harmoniously and cope with all tasks, hence Desmond’s understanding that if not all his people are cool and fearless, then this is not a reason to reject their professionalism. Then he began to work on his leadership skills.
It is interesting that, having taken the position of sheriff at the age of thirty-eight, Desmond began to strive to show others how much nerves of steel and a cool head he had. His reputation was loud, but there were still some things he didn’t like. Almost all residents of Heartstone perceived him as the most reliable protection against crime, turning the name of Desmond Poe into a brand, a sign of quality that guaranteed safety and order. They believed that they could relax their buttocks while this guy was breathing. The attitude of citizens towards him was extremely positive, since for all his toughness there was no such case that Desmond exceeded his authority. He liked to solve problems as independently as possible, as this pleased his pride, but the law and the safety of others were a sacred matter for him. Therefore, Desmond decided that it would be necessary to convey to those around him the idea that in front of them is the one who is responsible for their safety, and not some commando with post-traumatic syndrome. Since then, Desmond Poe has guarded his image, even though from time to time he was itching to remind himself of what he was capable of.
Having been married to him for a while, his wife was disappointed that her husband did not live up to her expectations and turned out to be too calm and balanced. But somewhere after the birth of her second child, Rhonda Poe realized how lucky she was that her husband did not turn out to be the frostbitten dude that she expected him to be, living under the same roof with him.
Everyone who had ever worked under Desmond needed no enlightenment about who they should be and how a guardian of the law should act in a given situation. They had a living example and standard – Sheriff Poe. Few people managed to get closer to Desmond in terms of his set of personal qualities, but everyone strived for this. And even at the end of his sixties, Desmond managed not to slow down, demonstrating absolute self-control and promptly solving any problems that surfaced in his town.
But lately Desmond has been faced with a problem. Not to say that it was an age crisis, but the years took their toll and age no longer allowed him to feel as vigorous and daring as in his best years. Despite the fact that Desmond managed to restore order in the town during the first years of his tenure as sheriff and now there was not much work in this sense, he still felt bad at heart that there was not even a reason to sweat to solve any problem more serious than domestic violence or chasing a violator who is exceeding the speed limit. Desmond needed a reason to declare himself in his sixties, because the last time he had to show who was the law was eleven years ago, when he was forty-eight and the gunpowder in his flasks was still dry.
3. Gomorrah
Inside, the music had not yet died down, customers continued to dry the bar, balls rolled into pockets, and there were fewer and fewer parking spaces. Gomorrah was a one-size-fits-all establishment. There was a striptease and a bar; here they played poker for money over a glass of beer and made bets at the billiard table. This was perhaps the only place in Heartstone where the sheriff did not come due to regular violence, because Gomorrah always had two bouncers. Not a single shift was complete here without a fight, so the bouncers were never idle. Perhaps fights would not have occurred so often if the institution was not located outside the town near the federal highway, which ensured a constant influx of customers passing by, among whom were trailer drivers, students, travelers with motorhomes, rodeo participants, farmers, hunters and fishermen. But a special category of clients were bikers. One day, a whole gang of seventy-eight bikers, who were on their way from Louisiana to California, parked in front of the establishment and decided to make a short pit stop when they saw a sign glowing from green neon tubes with the inscription Gomorrah, on both sides of which spread women’s legs glowed in red. The atmosphere that night was tense. This was the only time when Sheriff Poe came to the strip club to establish order, because alcohol was running low, and the dancers from strippers almost retrained as prostitutes, and against their will. The owner of the establishment, Luther Grissom, with trembling in his heart, was already beginning to count the losses from broken glasses, broken cues, cracked chairs and tables requiring replacement. But the damage was not as great as it could have been. All the affray stopped exactly at the moment when Sheriff Poe went inside and threw one of the bikers out the window, after which he fired a warning shot into the ceiling, and thus contributed to the damage caused to the establishment. But Luther not only didn’t take a cent for the broken window and ventilation in the attic, but also treated the Sheriff to free beer because it had become so quiet here since his arrival. The bikers lay with their faces to the floor, and the sheriff’s deputy placed the especially active ones in the back seats of official cars. This was eleven years ago. Since then, there have been enough internal forces to ensure order in Gomorrah.
That night Dana Host earned almost four times more than usual thanks to the fact that she was invited to perform a dance right at the table where the birthday boy was among the guests. After the music stopped and the next track began to play, the guy admitted to her that he would remember this gift for the rest of his life. In fact, it was impossible to think of a more suitable gift for someone who turned eighteen.
Dana constantly worked in public establishments. She started out as a waitress in a cafe in the heart of Heartstone; a couple of years later she moved to a bar, where the clientele was of much lower quality, but the higher salary allowed her to turn a blind eye to this shortcoming. She hadn’t even worked at the bar for six months before Luther Grissom, over a couple of visits, noticed how quickly she handled the delivery of orders, and at the same time knew how to talk with visitors who liked to loosen their tongues when drunk. Luther invited Dana to work for him. The fourfold jump in salary made Dana forget about everything in the world. She was not yet twenty then. Working in Gomorrah, at first Dana did not pay attention to anything other than her duties, counting money that she could not even dream of either in the cafe or in the bar. Then she began to look more and more closely at the details. She made friends among the strippers, with whom she sometimes shared a glass in her free moments, and then – when she was taught – she smoked a cigarette with them several times a shift at the service entrance. As the strippers became Dana’s bosom friends, they began to take notice of her amber hair, long legs and toned skin. They offered her something that was supposed to happen someday. After the establishment closed with the departure of the last customer, her friends began to teach Dana the basics of dance, and when her skills developed to the “passed” level, Luther still agreed to give her the opportunity to perform one dance. Before her debut, Dana was nervous, as usual, but a glass of absinthe has always been an effective remedy for stress. That evening Luther had one less waitress, and when everyone at home learned about the real reason for the busy schedule and rising wages, Dana’s mother was horrified. Father had no time to be indignant. He simply kicked her out of the house. Fortunately, the money that the pole brought Dana was more than enough for an independent life, including rented housing, and six months later she was even able to buy a small house in installments. Honing her skills on the pole year after year, Dana began to enjoy considerable popularity among men. But she rarely went on dates. As a rule, all her intimate relationships were sudden, and the men were often those with whom half an hour passed from the moment she met. Dana was only worried about money and applause in the hall. As Dana’s skills developed, Luther noticed that there were noticeably more local residents among the clients, while Gomorrah was designed mainly for clients who were passing through.
Dana Host had one feature, unlike the other dancers in Gomorrah. She still couldn’t go on stage completely sober. But if she throws in a glass or two, things will go like clockwork, and she herself liked to dance, but she still didn’t dare do it without alcohol.
That evening was out of the ordinary. In the afternoon, all the dancers sat down to play cards, where the loser had to dance topless. The agreement was for one dance, but not less than five minutes. The worst player at poker that day was Dana, who never came across a winning combination, and she always had problems with bluffing, both at the table and in life. She had to perform the nude dance. But Dana couldn’t do this at first. The second exit was also not original. The third one is the same story. Realizing that it would not be easy for her to do this, Dana drank one glass before each exit. Rum, whiskey, vodka, martini. On the eighth attempt, the cocktail in her brain began to give her courage and she still did it. But closer to midnight, Dana became too bold and she was sent to the dressing room, where she lay down on a sofa, and woke up closer to two in the morning. Luther ordered her to go home and sleep it off. Alcohol affected Dana not only quickly, but, at times, very strangely. She drank more than half a liter of strong drinks, then slept for several hours, but, having recovered a little from sleep, she immediately perked up, as if she had been drinking coffee instead of alcohol. One of the dancers, whose name was Janine Malone, sat Dana on the sofa, squeezed her cheeks with her palms and said:
– Sit and don’t move anywhere. Now is my exit. Wait, I’ll come and take you, okay?
Dana nodded somehow, and as soon as Janine left the dressing room, she immediately stuck her tongue out, put on her red leather jacket, took her purse from her personal locker and hobbled towards the exit.
So tipsy, Dana left through the service door and went to the parking lot, where her Mini Cooper was parked. Her gait was generally smooth, but her speed was jerky. She walked more than fifty meters and only then realized that she was slightly off course. The car remained in the service parking lot behind the building, and Dana was already a few steps from the road. She was about to turn her body one hundred and eighty degrees, when suddenly she began to hear a roar of a running engine, which was growing with every second. Soon bright scarlet lights of the headlights appeared on the right. Then the car began to slow down, and on the approaches to the turn that led to Gomorrah, the car began to move off the road, stopping right in front of Dana. The driver’s seat window was rolled down. Dana looked at the stranger and said:
– Hi handsome. How’s your evening, you wonder?
There was silence in response. Dana asked:
– Can’t sleep? Or do you ride in search of adventure?
Having not received an answer this time either, Dana came close to the car, leaned her elbows on the door and said:
– And you are not very accommodating. How about giving the lady a ride?
The stranger nodded affirmatively. Dana smiled and then began to walk around the front of the car. She walked, holding her purse in one hand, and ran her free palm along the curves of the body, feeling the coldness of the metal. She walked in front of the headlights, the scarlet glow of which did not surprise her at all. Dana saw a lot of different cars used by truckers and various car enthusiasts with whom she had promiscuous sex when they visited Gomorrah. Therefore, the appearance of the car, whatever it was, never seemed strange to Dana.
She placed her fingers on the door handle, pulled, slid into the front passenger seat, and closed the door behind her.
– Well, shall we go for a ride? – Dana asked in a playful voice under the influence of alcohol.
This was followed by a loud roar from the engine. The car set off, rapidly picking up speed, accelerating along the federal highway at night.
This was the last trip for Dana Host, while for the Racer the journey was just beginning.
4. Sighted and fast
Norman Hughes was another deputy sheriff. At thirty-three years old, he achieved what was quite enough for him for the life that suited him. Stable work; not huge, but decent income; an occupation that, in terms of the moral side of the issue, did not raise any doubts at all, because Norman maintained order and fought against lawlessness. He didn’t grab stars from the sky. A single life seemed to him a very comfortable scenario, when there were no obligations to anyone and all his attention could be focused on work and his personal interests, without being distracted by anything else. It was unacceptable for Norman to have a reputation as a womanizer. He saw in this something that discredited the honor of the uniform. So he just started affairs that dragged on for several years, and then suddenly something went wrong and Norman breathed a sigh of relief. So he seemed to those around him to be a man who was sincerely trying to improve his personal life in search of his missus, but he was simply unlucky.
When Norman got a job with the sheriff, he had only one drawback – post-traumatic syndrome. But since Norman was taking pills to suppress his trauma, Desmond Poe had no problem hiring him. The sheriff valued his experience in the army. Norman managed to fight in Somalia and Bosnia and Herzegovina. He refused further service after five children were killed in front of his eyes. He served out the remainder of his contract and returned home from service. Peaceful life became a problem for Norman. He didn’t know how to do anything except fight. Therefore, the first thing that came to his mind was to get a job with the sheriff. A week after starting work, Norman realized that he had found his calling.
He was sitting in a patrol car near the federal highway when the clock showed half past two in the morning. There were often reckless drivers in this area, so there was no need to doze for too long. But as luck would have it, it was this time that Norman began to pass out and slept for more than an hour. Opening his eyes, he experienced a feeling of intense thirst. Before his hand could reach for the thermos, a car rushed before his eyes. Norman realized that there was no time for coffee now. He started the engine and followed, turning on the siren. Driving out onto the highway, Norman thought that he could not remember a time when he had seen a speeding driver in the middle of the night with headlights off. He caught up with the suspect and began to demand through the loudspeaker to pull over to the side of the road. The reckless driver didn’t even think about stopping, but only increased his speed. Norman managed to notice that it was not his imagination and the headlights were indeed turned off. He continued to press on the gas and demand to leave the road. Getting the most out of the car, Norman began to close the distance and soon saw the outline of the taillights, from which he assumed that a Dodge Challenger was in front of him.
He again caught up with the pursued and repeated:
– Pull to the side of the road.
The Dodge rammed and hit the patrol car in the front fender. Norman didn’t say anything into the loudspeaker, but instead reached for the walkie-talkie. There was a second blow, causing Norman to drop the radio. He forgot about the connection and took a revolver from his holster. Norman began to overtake on the left, but at the same time the Dodge began to slow down. Having caught up, he hit the patrol car again in the side, and then again, but now at the very edge of the front fender near the bumper. The final impact was much stronger, causing Norman’s car to be thrown off the track. He began to return to the road, but the Dodge pressed him to the side of the road and did not let go for several more seconds, until an obstacle appeared ahead. Norman began to hit the brakes only when the bottom of the car was already sliding along the bump stop. At a speed of one hundred and forty-five kilometers per hour, the bump stop served as a springboard and Norman’s car took off from the ground. The grinding of metal was interrupted quickly, followed by the idling roar of the engine until the patrol car flew off the road, falling off a cliff in the darkness of the night, which was diluted by the flashes of the explosion when Deputy Heartstone’s car collided with the ground.
And the Racer continued to press on the gas. Nothing could stop him anymore.
