Hostage (18 page)

“Right,” she said, blotting her eyes with the back of her left hand. “And the next thing you’re going to tell me is that both David and I deserved to have our lives ruined because we weren’t married, let alone married in a church.”

“Listen, as terrible as this is, these things happen. That’s reality. That’s the horrible side of life.”

“Ohhhh,” said Elliot, slapping his cheeks with both hands. “So you’re the guy that wrote that bumper sticker, ‘Shit Hap pens.’ Man, oh, man, I hope you had that copyrighted. You could be making a fortune in royalties.”

Tears dribbling down her face, Tina reached into the pocket of her sweater vest and pulled out the syringe. All eyes in the room focused on the long, thin device, the needle of which was sheathed with an orange plastic cap. Tina held it up and tapped it with a fingertip to get the bubbles out of the rich, dark liquid.

“What’s… what’s that?” Clariton asked nervously.

“Chris was the sweetest little girl,” said Tina, her voice small and trembling. “I… I always said I’d do anything for her.”

Matthew zeroed in on the syringe with the camera, then pulled back for a larger view.

Horrified, Clariton stared at the syringe and demanded, “What… what is that? What are you going to do?”

“It’s full of blood,” said Tina, popping the cap off the syringe. “Our blood.”

“Dear God…”

“Do you realize how innocently AIDS is contracted? Just one little stick of this needle and you’d probably contract it. All I have to do is break the surface of your skin and get a little of our blood on you, and then—”

“Stay away from me!”

“But that’s why we brought you here, Congressman Clariton,” she said, calmly recounting the horrible truth. “And that’s what we’re going to do: give you AIDS.”

“Sweet Jesus!” gasped Clariton.

All of a sudden he flew into a frenzy of panic. More quickly than any of them could have imagined or anticipated, he lunged out with his foot, kicking Tina’s arm. Caught totally unsuspecting, Tina screamed, and the syringe flew out of her hand, hurtled across the room, and broke into a bloody mess against the wall. Pathetically weak, Tina fell back like a raggedy doll, flopping onto the floor in a sobbing heap.

“Tina!” shouted Matthew as he threw the video camera into Elliot’s hands.

Clariton shrieked, “Stay away from me, you fucking bitch! Stay away from me—all of you!”

Overcome with fury, he lunged at her a second time. He got only a few inches, however, before the handcuffs attached to his left hand jerked taut, yanking him back into place. He shouted more profanities, then swung his foot out again, this time kicking Tina in the thigh. She tried to push herself up, but couldn’t, and her face fell to the floor.

“Don’t hurt her!” shouted Matthew, who lunged for Tina, grabbed her under her arms, then started dragging her back.

Elliot, clutching the camera and standing a safe distance away, stared down at Clariton and yelled, “We’re really going to do it, you know—we’re going to give you AIDS!”

“Fuck you!” shouted back Clariton. “You’re dead, all of you are dead!”

“Oh, yeah? Well, for your info so are you, Mr. Congressman Asshole!”

It took more strength than Matthew had, but somehow he did it, he dragged Tina out of there, pulling her through the doorway and back into the main room. Elliot hurried after him, turned around, flipped Clariton the bird, and then slammed the metal door as hard as his thin arms could manage.

Lying in a heap on the floor, Tina sobbed, “Chris… Chris…”

“That fucker!” cursed Matthew. “What an asshole! Are you all right, Tina? Did he hurt you?”

“I just want my baby back!”

“We’re going to get him, don’t worry.”

“You bet we will,” added Elliot, his face deep red. “You did real good. And it’ll happen, just wait. You’ll see. We’re gonna do it for little Chris. I swear we will. That bastard’s gonna get sicker than all of us.”

“Are you all right?” Matthew bent over and touched her leg. “Where did he kick you?”

With a startled, even frightened face, she looked up quickly and her red face blanched. Clutching her stomach, Tina twisted toward the bathroom.

“Oh, my God, I gotta go! Help me! I gotta go
now!
”

“Elliot!” shouted Matthew.

The two of them snapped into quick action, grabbing Tina by each arm and jerking her to her feet, then scrambling across the linoleum. As she was rushed toward the bathroom Tina began yanking up her jeans skirt, and once she was through the door she leapt for the toilet. Matthew spun around, shoved Elliot back, and the two of them fell out of the bathroom, pulling the door shut behind them. A half second later there was a painful explosion of diarrhea and gas.

“Ow!” sobbed Tina from behind the closed door.

Elliot looked at Matthew, wrinkled up his nose, and then reached for a Coke. “Wasting syndrome is the ickiest, ain’t it?”

Matthew shook his head. “Oh, Christ.”

“I guess we should have expected Clariton to be stronger than all three of us put together.”

Matthew took a deep breath, leaned against the wall, and clutched his throbbing head. The tension was growing so much that his ears were pounding and ribbons of light were flashing before his eyes. Of course he knew what was coming, that much was as obvious as a dark thunderstorm on a horizon.

“Listen, I got everything we need on tape,” he said, and then paused to catch his breath. “My head’s killing me—I’ve got to go pick up my pills, the ones I left at home.”

“What?” gasped Elliot, freezing. “Are you nuts? You can’t leave now!”

“Everything’s on track, everything’s still going according to plan.”

“But—”

Matthew snapped, “I’ll be right back!”

“Oh, my God, Matthew,” said a panicky Elliot, “this is the worst time to—”

“Jesus Christ, you moron, I said I’ll be right back!”

“What? But… but…” Elliot’s voice was small and shaky as he added, “Well, I mean, I guess okay. Just don’t be too long.”

“I won’t.”

“I mean it, Matt. Tina and I—we need you.”

“I know, I know.” He stepped over to the bathroom door, put one flat palm against it, and called, “Tina?”

From the next chamber came something not much more than a whimper. “Wh-what?”

“I’m going to go out for a bit, but Elliot will be right here and he’ll take care of you. I’m gonna pick up my meds and then deliver this tape to our favorite television reporter, just like we talked about. Are you going to be okay?”

“Sure…” Her voice breaking as if she were crying, Tina said, “I’m sorry, Matthew. I should’ve just done it, I should’ve—”

“Hey, you did great, babe.” Something akin to a knife stabbed his head, and he clutched his brow, then said, “Don’t worry, I got everything on tape. It’s all happening. It’s all going to work.”

“But I didn’t—”

“Shh, don’t you worry. I’ll be back soon.”

Matthew turned away and started for the main door. He had no choice but to go. He really didn’t. And besides, this shouldn’t take too long. He’d be as quick as possible.

Off to the side, Elliot dropped to his knees and started pawing through a box, mumbling, “God, I really need a Twinkie.”

Matthew looked over at him, and in a weak voice advised, “Keep an eye on her, Elliot.”

“Sure, sure. But you just come back as fast as you can.” Elliot turned, stared at Matthew, and shrugged. “You come back fast because… because I’m scared, Matthew. I really am.”

Slumped into the soft
folds of his black leather couch, Todd just sat there in his dark apartment, overwhelmed with shock and confusion. That Rawlins, the most stable, level-headed guy Todd had ever met, had been poised to take fatal flight from his balcony was impossible. And that Rawlins, who looked so incredibly healthy, was at the very least HIV positive was something Todd couldn’t even comprehend. Oh, dear God. He wanted to jump up screaming. He wanted to break down crying. Instead, Todd leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, his face buried in his hands, the painful fear locked in him so tightly that no amount of force could break it free.

Something grazed Todd’s foot and he flinched. Peering down, he saw a sleek black creature brushing his ankle. Girlfriend. At first Todd didn’t know what to do, for Curt’s cat had never been so brazen, so daring. As he watched she did it again, turning around, sauntering up to him, slowly twisting her head from side to side in that seductive kitty way that says you simply must love me. Next, pressing her left shoulder up against Todd’s ankle, she slowly dragged the full length of her body across his foot. As if he were trying to catch a fly, Todd carefully moved his hand down inch by inch. Girlfriend’s languid tail swished back and forth, and then Todd did it, he touched her for nearly the first time in the month since Rawlins had brought her over, sinking two fingertips into her silken fur. And scratching. As if she’d just woken from a long sleep and suddenly realized how love-starved she actually was, she buckled up her shoulders and pressed her spine deeper into Todd’s touch. More brazen now himself, Todd rubbed her head, then ran his hand down the full length of her body and all the way up to the tip of her tail, a gesture of affection that Girlfriend ate up with rapture.

Roused from his shock, Todd sloughed off his inertia. He’d just let Rawlins prance right out of here? What a complete and utter fool.

He stroked Girlfriend one last time and then rose to his feet. Maybe it wasn’t too late. Maybe he could catch Rawlins. Somehow they’d get through this. HIV and AIDS were way bigger than one person alone, but together Rawlins and he could make it—or at the very least put up the best of all possible fights. And they really were doing amazing things with drugs these days. No, the AIDS epidemic was far from over—so few people could afford the new drugs—but they were making real, substantial progress. Just because you were HIV positive didn’t have to mean you were going to die, and the longer Rawlins could stay healthy the better the chances were for his long-term survival. Who knew, it could even be tomorrow or the day after that the scientists of the world discovered a single pill to rid the body of HIV.

Oh, God, thought Todd. What a chump he was. He should have tackled Rawlins with a hug, held him, and not let him go. Of course this wasn’t going to be the end of their relationship; there was no way Todd would walk out on him, particularly not now.

With his coat still on he darted out of the apartment, down the hall. It took forever for the elevator to come, and when it did it took forever to descend. A woman with red hair got on at the eighth floor.

“I just saw you on the news, Mr. Mills!” said the woman as they rode downward. “What a day you’ve had! Weren’t you scared? On TV you looked as cool as a cuke. Thank God you’re all right.”

“Thank you.”

“Can you believe they did that, those kooks? I mean, kidnapping a politician like that? What’s the world coming to?”

Consumed by the personal issues at hand, Todd barely nodded, and as soon as the doors parted he dashed out. He charged through the lobby, out the double doors, then turned an immediate right and jogged up the concrete drive. The guest parking was right there, and he scanned the dozen or so cars but failed to see Rawlins’s vehicle.

Todd came to a halt, jabbed his left hand into his hair, and pulled desperately at the roots. What if Rawlins really tried to kill himself? What if he went home and took a bunch of pills, or went downtown and hurled himself into the Mississippi? How could Todd have been so stupid to let him leave like that, to let him go off in such a desperate state?

He had to find him, it was that simple. Todd hurried back in, passing through the lobby, up the single flight of stairs, and into the residential parking garage. It was a cold gray space, and he again burst into a jog. First he’d go straight to Rawlins’s place. It wasn’t that far, just the other side of Uptown. Right. With any luck he’d find Rawlins there and talk some sense into him—

Todd came to his parking space and froze. Where his green Jeep Grand Cherokee was supposed to be there was nothing, just a blank stretch of concrete. Oh, crap. His first thought was that someone had stolen his vehicle, but no, of course not. He’d taken a taxi from downtown because, of course, his car was still out at Channel 10, just where he’d left it this morning.

Things were going from bad to worse, and he turned around. Okay, now what? If Janice were in town he’d call her and make her come right over, but she was gone until the end of the week. And he couldn’t beg or borrow a car from a neighbor, because he barely knew anyone in this entire building; for privacy’s sake he’d gone out of his way to remain as anonymous as possible.

So?

He’d have to get another taxi, and God only knew how long that’d take. This wasn’t New York. You couldn’t step off a curb and just hail a cab. He’d have to go to the front desk, have the security guard call one of the taxi companies, and then wait ten or fifteen minutes for a vehicle to come. Oh, shit, he thought. Why had he let Rawlins go?

Hoping that he’d somehow be able to catch him, Todd broke into a run. He jogged out of the garage and down the flight of stairs and burst through a door into the lobby. As he rushed up to the security desk he saw a limousine, a handsome black Cadillac, parked just outside the front door. The chauffeur was just setting down the last of three suitcases and a golf bag, and a very tanned man was peeling off some money while his wife scurried out of the cold and inside.