Fiction's Footsteps

>Once in the car, Samantha shrugged off the oversized coat with the floppy hood. Walking was out of the question for a while. Somehow, Daniel had requisitioned crutches for her and they left the hospital in plain sight – she in a wheelchair and Daniel pushing, toting a doting husband’s compliment of suitcases, crutches and make-up bags.

She had to admit he could be very resourceful. Where he came up with all the loot she never figured out. A good field agent would do the same. This worried her. Daniel promised to be more than he appeared.

We’re headed for the mountains, in case you’re wondering,” Daniel said as the car woke to his key.

“Don’t tell me. You just happen to have a cabin up there.”

“No, but I happen to know someone who does and they won’t be using it anytime soon.”

“Do you make it a habit of barging in on other people’s property like that?”

“Only when I need to. This is a need to situation.” Daniel turned the radio down to a whisper and asked, “Why’d you kill them?”

“They had turned.”

“Money?”

“Does it really matter?”

“I suppose not. How long had you worked with them?”

“Four years.”

“Why aren’t you lying? I thought you always lied.”

“What’s the point? I only lie when I need to.” Samantha shifted in the seat. Her ankle ached from all the activity during there ‘escape’ from the hospital.

“So you decided to go out with them. They must have meant something to you.”

“Bastards. They welcomed me into the group. We were going to be rich. No one could touch us. Let the world go to hell while we all sit back, drink heavily and fuck like rabbits.”

“Were you tempted?” Daniel glanced her way. She felt his eyes study her face.

“Yeah.” She lowered her head and muttered, “I was tempted.”

“What made you decide to do the job. I presume you infiltrated them for that purpose.”

“I gathered information I couldn’t live with.”

“What kind of information.”

“Now you want me to lie. Let’s leave it at money, alcohol and sex wouldn’t be enough for me to be able to live with myself. They were into something nasty.”

“Fair enough – for now. We’ll need to hole up a while for your ankle to heal.”

“What about you? You appear to know way too much about my line of work. What’s your story?”

“I kill women.”

She shot a glance his way then felt her face flush when she noticed he’d seen. “Ok, that’s funny.”

“No really. I don’t lie. Women seem to die around me. I suppose it’s my engaging personality.”

“How do they die?”

“Not by my hand. They all seem to … have issues. Drugs, pimps, agents, husbands. You name it, I’ve seen it.”

“A dead babe magnet, eh?” She smiled for the first time.

“It ain’t all that funny lady.”

>”If they’re the good guys, what’s that make you?”

An evil bitch, Samantha thought as she sized up Daniel. “Let’s just say I’m not the pristinely perfect lady. I have a few undesirable personality flaws.”

“Oh? For example …”

“I kill people for a living. I lie about everything and I don’t floss.” Daniel didn’t react and she didn’t like that one bit. She’d have to take a different tack.

“Did you kill those men in the car with you?”

He was cleaning his nails, not looking directly at her. This troubled her even more. He’s not looking for body language clues. “Yes.”

“I thought you lied about everything.”

“Maybe I am.”

“You’re not. Why take yourself out along with them? Was that the plan?”

He’s much too close to the truth. “I don’t think you need to know all this. Go away and maybe they won’t know you were ever here.”

“We both know it’s too late for that. If I’m going to go down, at least give me the satisfaction of knowing why.” Daniel looked up and met her eyes with a cool stare.

“You could be anyone. If I talk to you, I could spill secrets that would cause far too many problems. Especially if you’re the enemy.”

“Look Samantha, you’re the one who crawled up to my house broken and bleeding. If you singled your enemy out like that, then you are one incredibly talented agent. I just don’t want to be caught up in something without knowing the score.”

“Now who’s lying? You love not knowing what’s happening. It’s the thrill of the hunt.” Samantha vaguely remembered his house and the creaky screen door. The wreck felt like it happened years ago instead of days.

“Touche`.” Daniel stood up and tossed some clothes on her stomach. “Get dressed under the sheet in case the nurse comes in. We’re outta here.”

>Half a day later, Cheryl/Samantha opened her eyes. Daniel remained still to see if she could focus on her surroundings.

“Where am I and who the hell are you?” She squinted his direction and rubbed her left hand on her temple.

“The hospital – and I should ask the same of you. Is it Samantha or Cheryl?”

Her pause revealed a struggle with who she was speaking to and how Daniel fit into her web of lies.

“Samantha,” she decided.

“Nice of you to be so, shall we say – forthcoming?”

“Fuck you.”

“Harold came by to see you.”

An eyebrow betrayed her otherwise calm face. “Harold who?”

“If that’s the thanks I get for chasing him off before he injects you with something nasty, you need to find your manners.”

“You’re in over your head hero. You shoulda let him do it. Woulda saved all of us some trouble.”

“He and his buddy will be back soon. It’s been about eight hours. Why don’t you let me help you. I’m not asking you to tell me what this is all about, although it would be nice.”

“You’re dead just being in this room mister.”

“Daniel.”

“Daniel. Once they find out you’ve helped me, you’ll die. They will find out.” Samantha folded her hands on her lap and began to flex her fingers.

“That may be true, but I’ll take a few with me before I go.” Daniel collected some clothes he purchased for her after Harold left the building.

“No, you mustn’t.” Samantha’s face contorted in bloodless white lines and a set jaw. “They’re the good guys.”