– HEY, HEY, baby, you OK?

I open my eyes. A pretty girl is sitting on the side of my bed. She has long black hair with sharp straight bangs, an amazing body, and is wearing very little. I come back from the jungle and remember her name.

– Hey, Sandy.

– Nightmare?

– Uh-huh.

My eyes don’t want to stay open, they keep sliding me into darkness. Sandy’s are doing the same.

– Me too. I love Percs, but they fuck with your dreams.

I drag my eyes open.

– My dreams are always fucked.

She scratches her head.

– Can I get in with you?

– Sure.

I hold the covers up and she gets in and spoons her back against my front. She smells good.

– You smell good.

– Thanks.

She yawns. I yawn. She reaches a hand out to the radio.

– Can I put on some music?

My eyes are closed again.

– Sure.

I hear stations flip by and then a DJ for UNLV radio talking and then Nick Drake sings “Place to Be.” Sandy sighs.

– I love this song.

My eyes are closed again.

– Yeah.

– Wade?

I’m almost asleep again, but the name of my dead friend brings me back.

– Yeah?

– What did you see when you looked in my house? When we were running away?

Bad things.

– Nothing, really.

– What do you think happened to T?

Bad things.

– I think they killed him.

– Your friends?

– They’re not my friends, but yeah.

Her breathing is getting deep.

– Sandy?

– Umhunh?

– Why did you let T go? Why did you unlock his cuffs?

– I told you, I like T. I was getting ready to go out the window and I wanted him to go too. But he didn’t.

No, he didn’t. He tried to help me instead. She twists her head around to look at me.

– What about us? Will those guys try to find us?

Hadn’t thought of that. Yeah, they’ll try to find me. What else do they have now? And Sandy? She’s a witness. Sid will want her.

– They might.

She reaches back, finds my hand, and pulls it around her like an extra blanket.

– So then we have to stick together.

I count the people who have been hurt or been killed because they’ve stuck with me. Like counting backward from ten when you’re on an operating table, I am asleep before the pain starts.

I wake up and find Sandy sitting at the bottom of my bed, eating French toast from a room-service tray. I pull back the covers. Sandy looks at me over her shoulder. She chews and swallows the food in her mouth.

– Morning, Henry.

The tube is on, but Sandy isn’t watching MTV.

THEY FOUND Sid and Rolf’s hot car at the Super 8. The clerk identified Sid and was able to give a good description of Rolf. So they have a sketch of him now. There’s a decent chance someone who knew him in San Diego or Mexico will see it and identify him.

There’s also some footage of Danny standing with one of the lawyers from O.J.’s defense team, but I make Sandy change the channel before I have to hear them say anything. Sandy is taking it all pretty well.

– It’s just a relief more than anything else. Like when you know you’ve seen an actor in a movie before, but can’t figure who he is. Or the name of a song you can’t remember? How annoying is that? I mean, I knew you had to be wanted for something. But I was like, who is this guy? I saw something on the news about something happening in California a couple days ago, but I had no idea you were supposed to be here. Weird. And now I’m thinking I almost hope those assholes that killed T and Terry find us, ’cause I got you on my side.

At first I thought she was so wired because she got some good sleep, but then I realized she had found the last three bindles of crank in T’s jacket. I watch as she dips the tip of her cigarette into the yellowish powder and then lights up, giving herself a little freebase hit on her first drag.

– Wheeew, that’s good. Sure you don’t want some?

– No.

My body is still trying to wring out the last of the poisons I’ve been dumping in it, but at least I got some real sleep. I have that stupid feeling you get when you sleep too much. I look at the clock. 9:27. Shit, I slept almost twelve hours. I go to the curtains and pull them open. It’s dark out. Sandy laughs.

– Yeah, can you believe that? Nothing like Percs to knock you out.

I look at the clock again. 9:27 PM. It’s Friday night. I’ve slept for twenty-four hours. Again.

– Where’s my phone?

Sandy shrugs.

Where’s my phone? Where’s my fucking phone? The TV. I turn the volume back up, but it’s Larry King now. They’ll cut in, right? If something has happened to Mom and Dad, they’ll cut in. Phone! It’s not in my pockets. I didn’t leave it on the nightstand.

– Is this it?

Sandy’s standing in the bathroom door with the phone. I left it in there when I cleaned up. I grab it from her and turn it on. It powers up and chirps and the LED screen shows that I have eleven messages. Fuck. I don’t even know how to get messages off this thing. I flick to the phone book and find the only number in there, Dylan’s number. The phone rings and I jump and it falls to the floor.

– Fuck.

Sandy reaches for it and I knock her hand away.

– Don’t touch that!

She holds her hands in the air.

– Excuse fucking me.

I pick up the phone, take it in the bathroom, and close the door. It rings a third time and I push the green button.

– It’s me. I’m here. I’m sorry, I.

– Dude, that you? Don’t you ever check your messages? Hey, I got someone here wants to talk to you.

I listen while Rolf passes the phone off.

– Hank? They killed Hitler. They killed my dog.

I COULD let him die. I could tell Rolf and Sid to fuck off. They have no idea where I am. I could just let them kill T, and their part in all this would be over. I mean, who is T? Just a guy I barely knew in high school. Just a crazed speed freak with a death wish anyway. Just a guy who wanted to help me protect my parents for no reason other than he misses his own.

Shit.

And anyway.

Tim is gone.

My friend took the money and he’s gone. That’s clear now. And my choices are gone with him. The ship is sinking and it’s time to get as many people off as possible.

I lie again.

I tell Sid and Rolf I know where the money is. I tell them I got Sandy to tell me where Tim is and I found him and he told me where the money is. They want to know where he is now. I tell them something they’ll believe, I tell them I killed him.

They want to meet where the money is, but I tell them no chance. I tell them we’ll meet someplace public, they’ll let T go, and I’ll take them to the money. They like that idea because it means they get the money and me. We decide to do it at the hotel. They’re calling from a pay phone outside a supermarket. Sandy gives them directions and the name of the guy at the front desk. He’ll set them up with a room, and then they’ll call us and we’ll do the swap.

After I get off the phone Sandy goes down to the front desk to pay for the extra day on our room and to tell her guy that some friends of hers will be coming in.

I make my call.

– Who the hell are Rolf and Sid, Henry, and why are they leaving you messages?

It should have been obvious, I guess. He gave me the phone after all, so of course he has the code to retrieve all the messages Rolf and Sid left for me.

– More to the point, what are they doing talking about my money?

– Take it easy, Dylan.

– Don’t. Don’t even start, Henry. I have been very patient with you, treated you like a professional, and where has it gotten us? You blow off the deadlines for two progress reports, and when I investigate your absence I discover you have been receiving calls from people who seem to be trying to make a deal for my money. And who are these people? No, don’t answer that because I think I know. Sid, I gather, would be the Sidney Cain the authorities are looking for, and Rolf is most likely the nameless gentleman whose sketch is now being circulated. Are these your allies, Henry? Are these the kind of subcontractors you have employed? If so, and I am certain that it is so, I can only call your judgment questionable. No, pardon me, I am being sarcastic, let me be more blunt. You’re fucked-up! You are completely fucked-up and you are pushing me and your parents very close to the fucking edge!