Gracious thank you to Lady Jane who read through this. My thanks on picking up the errors I missed. If there are still any errors the fault is entirely mine.
**This story is for Aaron C - he passed away on October 23, 2015. Memories of life without you still have to be written my friend. You are missed everyday.
*****
Ray knocked on Mike's door for a third time. Much harder this time. He figured Mike was lying in his house somewhere passed out from being piss drunk. He waited a couple of seconds and then heard sounds behind the door - someone was coming. The door creaked open a crack. It was Mike.
"Yeah?" He asked, his eye was red and he didn't sound sober.
"I need a gun." Said Raymond.
Mike stared at him with one red eye, trying to sum up the situation as fast as he could. As fast as his depleted brain-cells would let him.
"For what Ray?"
"For none of your business, that's what. Are you going to give me a gun or not?"
"I don't have spare." He began to close the door.
Desperation took over and Ray pushed the door back open, Mike tried to push back but he was too hung over to struggle much.
"What the fuck Ray!" Mike complained loudly when Raymond pushed the door open and stepped inside.
"I need a gun!" Raymond shouted at him. Mike put his hands over his ears. It was easier to give Ray a gun and get rid of him before the pounding in his head became too much.
Mike walked to the kitchen and Raymond followed. He bent down in front of a kitchen cupboard and asked Ray what kind of gun he wanted.
"Pistol, whatever is closest, as long as works."
Mike pulled out a Beretta and handed it to him. Ray ejected the clip, no bullets. He looked at Mike and shrugged.
"Bullets?"
"Extra."
"Sheez, you can't even buy a gun with bullets these days. And this?" He asked inspecting the Beretta.
"One fifty."
Ray looked at him incredulously. "That's day light robbery."
"Take it or leave it."
"With a box of ammo?"
"Three hundred only, we're friends."
Ray chuckled and put three bills on the sink.
"No, we're not." He picked up the box of ammunition and walked out of the house.
"Thanks, see you around." Mike said to no-one in particular as he opened a beer for breakfast.
An hour later Ray was on the road, heading to Jackson. The last few months kept playing over in his mind like a bad dream. He pulled over on the shoulder and stopped for a while. There was a bottle of Old Thompson under his seat, he took it out and had a long drink. He had a smoke and thought about what he was doing. At length he decided what the hell, she started it - he would end it.
He took the postcard he wasn't supposed to know about from his jacket pocket and looked at it again - I had to. Don't tell Ray. It was post marked Seattle. He was angry and hurt at the same time and didn't know if he was going to kill her or kiss her. He started his truck again and drove on, blinking away tears that kept blurring his vision. Drive, he thought. Don't be such a sissy.
Close to Ralston, the rain began pouring down hard and he could just make out a really small person with a back-pack on the shoulder ahead of him. He could see it was a woman, he hesitated then slowed and pulled over. She began to run towards the truck. Ray rolled down the passenger seat window a bit as she caught up.
"Where are you headed?" He had to shout over the noise of the rain.
"I don't know." He shook his head at her.
"I'm from Mobile, I want to get as far away as possible." He grunted, she didn't look under aged, she could run away if she wanted to. He pressed the unlock button and opened the door for her. She put her bag at the back on top of his food and got in the front. She smelled musty and wet and Ray wondered what he had gotten himself into. She gushed her thanks as he pulled back onto the road.
"Take your bag off my food. Move it behind me." He said and turned to get a proper look at her.
Big, green, frightened eyes, bleached blonde hair, beautiful pouty lips. She must have weighed thirty pounds wet. She did as he asked and then faced the front again.
"You hungry?" He asked.
She nodded then shook her head. He wasn't going to beg her to share his food.
They drove in silence until Ray wanted another cigarette.
"I'm going to have a smoke. Hope it doesn't bother you too much." Ray said and took his pack of cigarettes out of his jacket pocket.
"Oh thank God." She said and took her own pack out and gratefully lit up with him. She had almost not taken the ride and she was ready to jump out of the truck if he tried anything. He didn't look friendly, but maybe that was a good thing, she thought. Bundy was a charmer. She sneaked another look at him and he caught her. She snapped her head back to the front.
"I'm Ray." He said. "I mean, my name is Raymond, or just Ray."
"Vicky." She said shyly. "Victoria."
"Which do you prefer?" Ray asked.
"Vicky's fine." She said sneaking another glance.
"May as well tell you now, I'm going to stop for the night around Texarkana."
"Okay." She hesitated. "Where are you headed, if you don't mind my asking?"
"Seattle." Ray turned and looked at her, she dropped her gaze to the seat.
"Why are you running away Debbie?" He asked, lost in thought.
"Excuse me? I'm not Debbie." She looked at him like a deer caught in the headlights. Ray shook his head and clicked his tongue.
"Sorry, I meant Vicky." She wasn't going to tell him it was none of his business, she needed the ride.