Page 92 of Two for Joy

Romeo managed to get to his feet, then began trudging along the ditch.

****

Exhaustion wearied Romeo’s limbs, and slowed his reactions. His face ached, to the point he dribbled, and didn’t realize until he touched his chin. He was tempted to curl up in the undergrowth and sleep off his headache, but feared if he tried, he’d never get up again.

He was walking until he found a layby, an unsuspecting person pulled over for a rest, then he was going to strike.

The sun started to fade, leaving an intense orange glow in the sky. He’d always been able to see the sun rise and set from the farmhouse, but hadn’t seen it do either in the prison. His one hour in the yard was always in the middle of the day with the sun right over him. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed it until he saw it setting, until he looked out on the horizon, with no walls to end the view, or mesh to distort it. He’d never thought he’d end up behind bars, always thought he’d outwit anyone, always one step ahead, but then Chad stepped into his life.

When Romeo got to the layby, no car had pulled in. He listened to them whizz by, praying someone would slow, park, let him strike, but no one answered his prayers.

He was left waiting, judging time by the moving sun, and the chill running up his spin. Romeo heard a chattering, a distinctive noise he’d recognize anywhere. He gritted his teeth, thought about ignoring it, but then he turned, and glared at the magpie in the trees, hopping branch to branch. It wasn’t alone, there was another one with it, two of them chattering to each other, giving him curious looks.

“Fuck off, blatant symbolism.” Romeo growled, clawing at the mud of the ditch to loosen a stone. He squeezed the stone in his hand, unable to launch it at the two magpies mocking him.

Mocking or encouraging, Romeo didn’t know. He dropped the stone and clutched his pounding head. He closed his eyes for what felt like a minute, but could’ve easily been an hour. The sky was darker, the magpies had gone, and still no one pulled into the layby.

His face felt bigger, and tighter than it should’ve done, but there was no way to soothe the ache. His stomach cramped and spasmed, and even though he was surrounded by water, it was the thirstiest he’d felt in his life.

As he stroked his damaged face he thought back to Chad, and the last time he’d seen him. Chad had told him heneededRomeo. The detective had gone completely, leaving behind a broken man, Romeo’s broken man. The one he was determined to put back together despite the jagged edges and missing parts. They fit together.

He dropped his hand from his face when he heard a car engine above, someone pulling into the layby. He waited, listening out for voices, trying to judge whether it was more than one person. The engine cut out, a door opened, then a man rushed behind the trees, closer to Romeo. He was no more than a meter away, and completely unaware a serial killer lurked in the ditch ahead. The man tugged the zipper of his pants open, then relieved himself against a tree with a blissful sigh.

Romeo climbed out of the ditch, the man’s eyes went wide with panic, and he tried to scramble away, but ended up tripping. Romeo rammed him into the dirt, straddling him to pin him down.

“Stay still or I’ll kill you.” Romeo warned.

“What do you want?”

“Your car. I need your car … now hands behind your back.”

“What?”

Romeo shoved his face into the dirt. “Hands at your back.”

The man obliged. His hands were trembling wildly as Romeo tied them together with duct tape. Romeo shuffled down his body, then wrapped his ankles, then knees together.

“Perfect.” Romeo said. “Where’s your keys?”

“R—right side pocket.”

Romeo patted his legs down, feeling the keys. He pulled them out, then grinned clutching them. “You’ve been a great help.” He said, before slapping a strip of duct tape over the man’s mouth.

He struggled, flailed, then Romeo sighed, and rolled him into the ditch with his foot.

****

Romeo was hoping Neil’s house would be the first one he came across, but a peek in the letterbox told him otherwise. Mr Daniel Smith. He got back in the stolen car and carried on up the road. He rolled down his window and heard yapping at the next house.

Neil hated dogs.

He put his foot down on the gas when he heard laughing in the next yard. They were having a party, the smell of the barbeque carried straight to Romeo’s nose and he whined. He needed food, he needed water, and he needed to get out of his soaked-in-mud clothes. He looked down at his sneakers, no longer pristine white like when he first escaped the hospital, but caked in mud.

Romeo pulled up next to one of the houses, parking on the grass verge. There was no letter box to check for a name, he was relying purely on his memory.

Dark beams, a double garage, he parked the car at the side of the road and went for a closer look. He peered through the bars, then gasped. In front of the garage was a Porsche, a Porsche with a glowing license plate.

Romeo laughed.

---