Hostage (36 page)

“Sure,” replied Todd, fearing that Elliot already knew how this was going to end.

“Oh, and there are three people in the walk-in refrigerator at some cookie place. They’ve probably already gotten out, but you better check.”

“Okay.”

With the gun pressed deep into his back, Todd took hold of the metal railing and started up, some ten steps behind Elliot and Clariton. He climbed one step after another, and behind him he could hear Matthew’s labored breathing as he gulped and wheezed. By the time they’d climbed one flight Matthew’s exhaustion was more than evident.

“Not… not so fast,” gasped Matthew, reaching out with his free hand and grasping on to Todd’s belt for support.

“Holy cow,” huffed Elliot, clearly exhausted as well, “I’m not the great athlete I once was.”

They rested a brief moment and then, as if they were scaling a mountain, Matthew drove them all upward. The climb proved too much though, and they paused again on the next landing, waiting so Matthew could catch his breath, which he couldn’t. When they’d made it up all three levels and were back at ground level, Todd glanced over his shoulder, saw Matthew dripping with sweat.

“Just… just wait a minute,” said Matthew, his voice faint as he struggled for air.

Keeping his gun trained on Todd, Matthew groped for the wall, leaned against it, and started coughing. He then bent over, clutched his forehead with his left hand.

“You don’t look so good,” said Todd.

“No shit.”

“It can end right now, you know. Why don’t you let me—”

“Fuck off!” Matthew tried to straighten up, but swooned and reached again for the wall. “We’re going all the way, aren’t we, Elliot?”

Elliot struggled to catch his breath as well, and then in an odd, almost serene voice replied, “Yep, we are. All the fucking Thelma-and-Louise way, man.”

Oh, shit, thought Todd, fearful of what that implied.

“Elliot, just… just…” Matthew started hacking, then continued, saying, “Just keep that syringe right on Clariton’s neck.”

“Yes, my captain,” replied Elliot. “I got it right up against his skin. It’s curtains if he so much as makes a move I don’t like.”

“Oh, Christ,” muttered Clariton, as beads of perspiration formed on his brow.

“Okay, let’s do it,” said Matthew, stabbing the pistol back into Todd. “Let’s go. Nothing like a dramatic entry, eh?”

Todd said, “Matthew, we can still get you out of this.”

“Shut the fuck up! Now, just open the door and head out. I’m going to be stuck to you like glue.”

Matthew moved behind Todd, clutching an arm around Todd’s waist and jabbing the gun into Todd’s temple. Todd took a deep breath, then did as he was told, opening the door and proceeding down the plain white service hall toward the heart of the Megamall. Reaching the three-story main corridor, they emerged between Heavenly, a store overcome with angels, and The Big Stink, which was filled with stacks of perfume. Glancing through palm trees and banners, carts and planters, Todd saw no one.

“Head over to those elevators,” ordered Matthew. “You with me, Elliot?”

“You bet,” he called.

Suddenly a voice behind them said, “Hey, Mel, look at here. Aren’t we glad we’re the last ones out?”

“Oh, brother,” muttered Matthew.

Todd halted, looked to his right, and saw two mall guards in front of a store emblazoned with the words MEGA BARBIE! While Mel and his partner seemed most determined to do something, anything, they stood weaponless and hence powerless in front of a showcase filled with Pink Splendor Barbie, a life-size figurine all done up in an explosion of pink chiffon.

“Oh, Jesus Christ!” laughed Matthew. “You two turkeys don’t even have guns!”

“Yeah,” agreed Elliot in a voice that seemed to be getting calmer and softer by the moment, “like, what are you going to do, throw your walkie-talkies at us?”

Matthew swung his gun away from Todd’s head, aimed not directly at the guards but just to the right of them, and fired two shots into the Barbie showcase. In a single instant the glass shattered and Pink Splendor Barbie exploded, her tall plastic body shattering into a thousand pieces and her head and beehive white-blond hair tumbling into the store.

Turning to the guards, Matthew laughed like the devil and shouted, “Now, which one of you am I going to kill first?”

The guards bolted, tearing down the teal-carpeted hallway.

Clearly amused, Matthew continued chuckling as he jabbed the gun back against Todd’s head and ordered, “Keep moving!”

With the hot barrel against his temple, Todd led the foursome onward, moving around some planters, past a teddybear shop, a music-box shop, an enormous shoe store, and to the bank of elevators. He pressed a button, one of the doors immediately opened, and Matthew, Todd, Elliot, and Clariton boarded the all-glass lift.

Elliot pressed the number three and in a faint voice said, “Going up. Next stop: chaos.”

As they rose past the second floor Todd saw a handful of guards come charging toward the elevators. No, those weren’t mere shopping-mall guards, not geeky men and women in white shirts and black polyester pants. They weren’t even local police, Todd realized as the glass car continued ascending. Dressed in black uniforms and helmets and carrying submachine guns, they were quite obviously Hostage Rescue Team commandos.

A bell chimed, the lift came to a gentle stop on the third floor, and Todd felt Matthew draw closer yet, pressing himself tightly against Todd’s back. When the doors eased open, Todd stared out at two marksmen, their guns aimed at him.

“Get back or I’m going to blow this guy’s head off!” shouted Matthew, tapping Todd’s head with the gun.

“Do it,” seconded Elliot, “or this guy’s gonna get a big dose of AIDS!”

Suspended between Matthew and the submachine guns, Todd felt his heart leaping wildly, his body trembling and sweating. At first it seemed as if the sharpshooters weren’t going to budge, but then, without lowering their weapons, they backed away.

As he nudged Todd out of the lift Matthew commanded, “Okay, turn right.”

With the guns trained on them Todd led the way down the hall. Matthew hung on to him, and Elliot and Clariton followed just a few feet behind. Aware that the sharpshooters were looking for that one moment, that millisecond that might give them a clear shot, Todd moved cautiously past a blue jeans store, finally turning a corner and entering the food court, which glowed with sizzling red neon hamburgers, chilling blue neon shakes, and dancing orange neon french fries. Lining both sides of the massive V-shape space were several dozen fast-food booths with brightly lit menu boards offering everything from pizza to minidoughnuts to sushi to deep-dish chocolate chip cookies.

“Go all the way out there,” commanded Matthew, whispering into Todd’s ear and shoving him along. “All the way to the edge.”

Todd led the way around a column on which hung a huge neon Pepsi cup with flashing bubbles, then steered through a mass of Formica-clad tables. As he moved along Todd was suddenly aware that they weren’t surrounded by simply one or two additional sharpshooters, but at least a dozen more, all of whom fanned into strategic positions. Carefully proceeding through the food court, Todd headed onto the Grand Balcony, a huge perch covered with still more tables and chairs, which jutted out over the entire amusement park. With Matthew still pressing the gun into Todd’s temple, he went all the way to the edge and peered out. Off to one side hung an enormous space rocket and moon constructed of multicolored Lego blocks, while in the distance stood the Ferris wheel, which was so far away it looked tiny. Spying something snaking and curling through the treetops, Todd realized it was the roller coaster, completely empty yet maintaining its computerized schedule. With a quick glance over the railing, Todd saw down below not only another dozen guns aimed up at them, but a handful of television crews and their cameras as well.

“Very good,” cackled Matthew, his hand trembling as he ground the gun into Todd’s scalp. “Can their telephoto lenses reach this far, Toddy?”

“Yeah, and I’m sure they won’t miss a second.”

Matthew called, “Hey, Elliot, we’re going to go down in history!”

“Yeah, we made it,” he said softly.

Out of the corner of his eyes Todd watched Elliot nudge Clariton up to the railing and peer out over the largest of interior spaces. For a long time Elliot just scanned the area, seeing it all—the forest of trees, the huge columns, the sparkling lights, all the rides—as if for the first time. Or was it, Todd feared, perhaps the last?

His voice faint, Elliot said, “So do I do it now, Matthew? Is it time to inflict the ultimate experience upon the evil congressman?”

“Oh, God,” pleaded Clariton, “please… please don’t!”

“But why shouldn’t I?” asked Elliot, as lucid as he was perplexed. “Otherwise you’ll never understand the damage people like you have done.”

“Please… I swear it, I’ll help you! Just don’t, please don’t…”

“Clariton, you are such a fucking baby,” said Matthew, who then turned and leaned over the railing and yelled to the journalists below. “You guys with the cameras, make sure you get this!”

Glancing the other way, Todd saw movement. It was Rawlins, bounding past a hamburger stand and heading straight for them. Several black-clad HRT guys leapt out and grabbed him, but Lyle, right behind, came to his aid, and Rawlins pushed through. Maneuvering in and out of the tables and chairs, Rawlins rushed on, then slowed as he approached the edge of the Grand Balcony.

“Oh, shit,” groaned Matthew upon spotting him.

Todd shouted, “Rawlins, stay away!”

Paying no attention, Rawlins calmly said, “Don’t do it, Matthew. Don’t kill Todd.”

“Get the hell out of here!” shouted Matthew.

Rawlins, his brawny frame quite still, ignored him and calmly continued, saying, “It’s me you want to kill, not Todd.”

“Oh, is that right?”

“Absolutely. You gave me a death sentence, Matthew. You passed HIV to me. So why don’t you just do it? Why don’t you just shoot me and finish off what you started?”

“Oh, Jesus…” moaned Matthew.

“After all, I don’t want to get as sick as you.”

“What, it’s too much for you, tough guy?”

“And I certainly don’t want to get as ugly as you either.”

Matthew flinched. “Listen, if you think this is going to save your boyfriend, you’re wrong.”

“You look like shit, you know, and—”

“Shut up!”

“—and I don’t want that.” Rawlins waited a moment, then slipped to the edge of a table and added, “You used to be the handsomest man I’d ever seen.”

Matthew hesitated, then snapped, “Rawlins, get the hell out of here—now!”

“Everyone said that about you, how gorgeous you were. It was no surprise you were so successful as a model. Everyone lusted after you. All the guys. But now look at you.”

“Stop it!”

“People run from you, don’t they? I mean, you look like some sort of freak. That must be real hard for you.”

“Listen, I—”

“AIDS is so damn ugly, isn’t it? I mean, can you even stand to look at yourself in the mirror?” Rawlins shook his head. “I just don’t want to look as bad as you do now. All the oozing sores and the wasting and—”

“Shut the hell up!”

“I don’t want to rot like—”

“Stop it!”

“No, Matthew, you’re going to have to shoot me. That’s what I want. I want you to kill me so I don’t look as hideous as you.”

Matthew shifted from one foot to the other and blurted, “You know, if you don’t shut up I’m going to kill Todd!”

“No, you’re not.”

Todd glanced over, saw Elliot and Clariton hanging on every word. Swinging his eyes across the food court, Todd spied the sharpshooters frozen in position, one against a column, another leaning on a tabletop, another perched by a garbage can, all of their guns trained on Matthew and therefore Todd as well.

His body blistering with sweat, Todd said, “Rawlins, I—”

“You know, Matthew, I’m pissed off too,” continued Rawlins, ignoring everything and everyone else. “I’m pissed as hell at you for doing this to me, for making me sick.” Rawlins started forward. “And I’m angrier than hell that people like Clariton have exploited—”

“Stop right there or I’ll blast his brains out!”

Rawlins halted, took a breath, then said, “Actually, maybe that’s a good idea. Maybe you should kill Todd. I mean, I don’t want to see him get sick too. He’s probably got it, you know. I probably gave him AIDS. And I sure as hell don’t want to watch him start puking and shitting his brains out.”

Todd closed his eyes, bit his lower lip. He took a deep breath, felt his heart slamming against his chest. Was Rawlins as insane as Matthew?

“In fact,” continued Rawlins, “I kind of like that idea. You can shoot Todd and then he won’t have to suffer. That’s pretty good.”

Matthew’s eyes flitted about, he rocked from side to side, then looked over the edge at the cameras below. “They better be getting this live.”

“And then you can shoot me too.” Rawlins nodded. “That would be a great relief.”