The Hitman's Last Job(34)

For a moment he doubted himself. Who did he think he was? He was no
spring chicken and could barely walk let alone save his son. But he
could at least try. He could never live out his remaining years
knowing he didn’t try.


Carl thought
his father didn’t know him at all but John knew that was wrong. He
knew his son more than he knew himself because he’d created him
hadn’t he? He was made in his father’s image and as he grew up he
saw the young man grow up to be a spitting image of him. He sat on
the edge of the bed for a moment to gather his thoughts.


So the kid was
in trouble but where would he hide out? And why wasn’t he fighting
his way out of trouble? The questions perplexed him and he felt the
need to look through his old photo albums for inspiration. He
picked out one labelled Mexico ’88. He saw Carl’s smiling face in
each photo as he ran through the landscape of Monterrey.


It was such a
beautiful place, and with John’s early retirement money he’d
managed to buy a luxurious holiday home in the city. His family and
friends often wondered why he’d pick such a place, but it was
somewhere he’d often travelled to as a child to visit distant
cousins. He had an affinity for the landscape and as Carl grew up
he did too.


As he flicked
through the photos, he thought this was the time in which his boy
was his happiest. His last vacation there was just before he
enlisted in the Navy. And when he came back home the light had gone
out of his eyes. John had a feeling that if anywhere could
recapture Carl’s happiness that was it.


John Reiner
quickly packed a small suitcase, grabbed as much packaged food out
the kitchen cupboards as he could and hurried to his car. Mexico
was a long way from Chicago but he’d make it.


CHAPTER 20

The line at the bus station was exhausting Anna, and she leaned against Carl.

“What’s taking so long,” she huffed.
“I don’t know sweetheart,” Carl put his arm around her. “Shouldn’t be much longer,”
“And I still don’t understand how you’re getting me to Mexico. I don’t have a passport and just… I dunno. It all seems so crazy,”
“Look, trust me,” he spun her round to meet his gaze. “I know what I’m doing…. Kinda. At least I have a plan. We’re gonna get on a bus to San Antonio first,”
“Why the hell are we going there?” Anna seemed tired of it all and outraged.
“I have a person…. Who I can call,”
“Who?”
“I can’t tell you. You’ll just have to wait and see. But after that we’ll be only a couple hours away from the border I promise. Then we’ll be in Mexico,”
“But where will we live?” tears began to sting her eyes.
“Don’t worry, I have a place. Besides, there’s a lot to do in Mexico. There’s a nice art museum I’d love for you to see,”


Anna raised her eyebrows. “An art museum? Now you’re some lover of art?”

He laughed. “Not in general, but this museum is very important to me. I’m just trying to cheer you up. Everything will be fine.”

Anna remained unconvinced. “You’re acting real weird,” and she worried about what she’d got herself into.

There was a change that drifted over Carl since the first time she met him. Granted the situation they were in wasn’t one conducive to acting normally but still… he seemed to become increasingly paranoid. He was becoming jittery and strange when he talked. And when Anna looked to him she’d occasionally find him lost in the moment as if his mind had drifted away to another era. She figured he was harbouring some demons but only time would tell if he would open up to her about them.

The lined moved slowly but steadily and soon enough they were at the window buying their tickets.

“Have a nice trip!” the girl behind the counter smiled.


But Anna could tell she looked at them strangely. They did, after all, look like peculiar kids on the run, except Carl wasn’t so much of a kid anymore. As they walked through the bus station she thought they couldn’t have looked more suspicious and prominent if they tried. But maybe she was the one becoming paranoid.

“Is that our bus over there?” Anna pointed.
“Sure is,”
“It looks kinda old and dirty,” she grimaced.
“You never been on a coach before?” Carl laughed.
“Nope,” Anna shook her head.
“Well let me give you the grand tour,” and he placed a hand on her lower back to comfort her as she walked ahead.


She climbed the steps up into the coach and showed the driver her ticket. He smiled and nodded at her politely and she was good to go. She hovered in the gangway for a moment feeling afraid and confused. A queue began to form behind her, and people were agitated as the entrance to the bus became congested. But Anna didn’t notice. She was too busy running different scenarios in her mind. There was something so terrifying about being trapped in a tin can for hour after hour with strangers pressed up against you wherever you looked.

“Anna, what’s wrong?” Carl nudged her to move forward and she did so apprehensively.
“I just don’t like this it feels weird. I feel trapped,”
“Don’t worry, nobody really likes buses, but we’re safer in here than anywhere else,” he squeezed her hand.