31
Ted
I slept in the van for maybe an hour while Andy took the shuttle for his 1:00 a.m. pickup, but it felt like minutes. When I woke up to the sound of tires, I scrambled upright, disoriented and groggy.
I shoved my hands in my hoodie pockets, got out of the van, and blinked into the approaching headlights.
That was my first clue that something was wrong.
Those lights were way too low for the shuttle.
I tensed as the vehicle slowed then stopped—and Andy emerged.
Relief, then confusion, then anger, zipped through my system. “ What the hell happened?” I asked. “ Where ’ s the shuttle?”
“ Dude, calm down,” Andy said, leaning against the two-door Honda Civic I recognized now that my eyes were recovering from being blinded by the headlights. He fished in his pocket for a cigarette and lighter. “ Some lady freaked out. It was just some dirt … and trash.”
If I was angry before, I was livid now.
“ Tell me what happened,” I said. “ Don ’ t leave anything out.”
So he did. And when he was finished, I sat down on the hood of the Civic to calm myself down. Fuck.
Andy ’ s 1:00 a.m. passengers had called the Speedy Shuttle desk to complain fifteen minutes after he ’ d dropped them off at the airport.
The floor of the shuttle had been filthy—dusty smears and footprints everywhere, from when I ’ d dragged the detour sign in and out of the back. Not only that, but Andy had wadded up the sweaty pantyhose and stuffed them under the driver ’ s seat—where they ’ d rolled backward.
A woman had actually picked them up, before he snatched them from her hand.
“ For shit ’ s sake,” I muttered for the fifth time. I kicked at a rock that went scuttling in the direction of the metal sheet covering the hole.
“ Calm down ,” he repeated again, like I was overreacting.
I couldn ’ t calm down, though. Not when he ’ d fucked up this bad.
Andy lit the cigarette and turned his head toward the buried bunker. “ Any peep from the little assholes?”
“ What do you think, dumbass?” I said, with more acid in my voice than I meant.
Andy ’ s mouth twisted into a sneer around the lit butt of the cigarette. “ I mean … your bedtime is usually like, nine o ’ clock, isn ’ t it?”
I ignored the jab and swiped at a fat raindrop that splashed down on my head and rolled down my cheek.
I didn ’ t want to fight with Andy—not when we were this close to the finish line. How could he have been so stupid, though? I couldn ’ t help adding, “ Seriously, how many times did we run through this? You were supposed to give the airport shuttle a once-over wipe down before you picked up any passengers.”
I should have done it myself, I added silently, hating myself for leaving it to him. But this was supposed to be a team effort. If he was getting half of the money, he had to hold up his half of the plan.
“ Well, if you hadn ’ t taken so goddamn long babying those kids down into the bunker, I wouldn ’ t have been in such a rush earlier,” he snapped back, flicking the still-glowing cigarette onto the rutted dirt at his feet.
I forced a deep breath and told myself that all in all, things hadn ’ t gone that far off the rails. They could have, though, and that was the real problem.
“ Did she say anything about the pantyhose?” I asked . I wanted to hear him reassure me again. Wanted to believe he wasn ’ t leaving anything out.
A gust of wind picked up some of the fine dirt near The Pit. More raindrops splatted against my cheeks, and I could hear the pings hitting the sheet metal and junk now.
Shit. It wasn ’ t supposed to rain. My skin felt hot and my muscles kept twitching.
“ Hell no, I already told you. She was dumb as a box of rocks. Didn ’ t even realize it was pantyhose. Thought it was a fucking scrunchie. Asked me if it was mine then got mad at me when I grabbed it out of her hand. Idiot. Who sits in the front seat when there ’ s room in the back, anyway? She was a dumb bitch, I ’ ll tell you that for sure.”
He hadn ’ t mentioned the part about the “ scrunchie ” the first time he told the story. I forced my shoulders to relax. We were both back at the quarry. We were safe. I cut my eyes toward the sheet metal covering the hole, reminding myself of everything we ’ d gotten away with already.
I hadn ’ t heard a peep from the kids. Maybe they were asleep.
I ’ d expected some bangs and yells in the silence while I waited for Andy to come back from his airport drop-off, but there was nothing.
I pictured the kids sleeping on the mattresses at the bottom of the hole, full of the peanut butter and jelly sandwiches I ’ d used part of my last paycheck to make, and that made me feel weirdly good. Like they were my pets just for the night, tucked safe and sound until I let them go.
“ It was actually kind of dope when I got fired,” Andy said, breaking into my thoughts.
My shoulders tensed up again and I forced them to unclench. Not only had he completely failed in making sure the van was clean—and free of fucking masks—before he picked up his passengers, but he made a scene and got fired, too.
Not waiting for me to respond, Andy kept going. “ Any other day, I would ’ ve been shitting a brick and kissing Mr. Kessler ’ s ass when he started tearing me a new one over that lady ’ s complaint. Because the shuttle job ’ s pretty good money, right? But since … you know, we ’ re gonna be rich by tomorrow, I let him have it.”
I rolled my eyes, but I wanted him to keep talking so I knew exactly what ’ d happened while he was out with the Speedy Shuttle. “ What did you say to him?” I asked.
“ When he told me that bitch complained about the dirty shuttle, I told him maybe she had something stuck up her ass.”
I clenched my jaw to keep in a yawn.
Andy snickered. “ So I said, ‘ Maybe you could help her out. One tightass to another.’”
I knew I was supposed to laugh, so I did, but I was still pissed.
We were supposed to be lying low. Not making a scene.
“ It ’ s fine, Teddy Bear,” Andy sang as he opened the door to the tiny hatchback and got inside. The rain was falling harder now. Not a downpour, but enough that we ’ d get soaked standing around in the open.
“ Don ’ t call me that,” I mumbled, but I was starting to calm down.
“ Okay, Teddy Bear,” Andy muttered, then yawned so wide his hair-rimmed mouth showed all his teeth. “ Let ’ s sleep for a few hours, yeah?” He gestured toward the sheet metal, prickling with raindrops. “ Big day tomorrow.”
I nodded and headed for the gray van without answering.
We needed to be sharp for the ransom pickup. And the kids weren ’ t going anywhere.
None of them, not even the bus driver, could reach the top of the bunker without the ladder. Not even close. Even if they could somehow, there was no way they ’ d be able to move the plywood covering the first hole. I ’ d centered that hundred-pound battery on top of the plywood and nearly thrown out my back doing it.
There was no way, I reassured myself for the thousandth time. But if they did, we ’ d be right here waiting for them.
I opened the door to the gray van and rolled down the window a crack so I could hear any kind of commotion. A few raindrops rolled down the inside of the glass, but I just leaned against the console and rested my head on the passenger seat. A blanket would ’ ve been nice, but I had my sweatshirt at least.
Not the most comfortable night I ’ d ever spent—and that was saying a lot, because the cramped bedroom in Mom ’ s trailer was about as comfortable as my jail cell. But in a few more hours, all of this would be over.
I ’ d be rich.
And then I ’ d be gone.