Chapter Seven
Theo drives. Gravel sits shotgun with one foot up on the dashboard. He basks in smug supremacy; for the moment, he’s in control, which feels orgiastic. A sensation of well-being spreads over him. He is relaxed. He hadn’t known what a liberation it would be to get rid of his mother - one less thing to bother with. Old bitch never liked him. She was a f*ckin’ thorn.
Kent sits in the middle of the back seat with his elbows crossed over the front in between his brothers. He looks out through the windshield. It’s a coal black Minnesota night. The car’s headlights reach out onto the opaqueness illuminating the road and a multitude of frenzied insects many of which splatter their guts all over the windshield.
Kent says, “When we get to Canada I’m gonna run the cock fights.”
Gravel smirks, “You gonna raise birds?”
“They aren’t birds. They’re fighting machines. But first, you gotta get ‘em in shape.”
“In shape, huh? What d’ ya tie little weights to their wings and take ‘em to the gym?” Gravel asks, rolling his eyes at Theo who snorts happily.
“No. You run ‘em around for eight hours every day until their legs get like little stubby tree trunks. Then, you put ‘em together and just let ‘em go.”
“Sounds too much like work.” Gravel looks out the window and sees the lights of the small rural hospital just coming into view.
“They fight to the death on instinct. Even if you raise ‘em nice, when you put ‘em together - bam! They rip each other apart.”
“How many you gonna buy?”
“Only need two. I’ll buy a male one and a female one. Put ‘em together and let ‘em f*ck their brains out.”
Gravel’s tone drips with derision, “You’re gonna get a female cock?”
“Sure. I’ll have baby cocks all over the f*ckin’ place. I’ve been readin’ about it a lot.”
“For someone who reads, Kent, you sure don’t get much right.”
“You just don’t like it when I know something you don’t know.”
“Yeah, a*shole, if that ever happened, I wouldn’t like it.”
Theo wrenches the car off the main road and enjoys the dive into the ditch. They come to a jerky stop. He shuts off the headlights and the black sedan vanishes into the erasing darkness. Up ahead, Grayley Community Hospital is a blast of ugly fluorescence. The square three-story building has light pouring from every window. An alarmingly large blood red emergency sign points the way to admitting. Gravel and Kent silently slip out of the car with their weapons tucked into their belts, in black jeans and hooded sweatshirts they, too, disappear into the night. At this moment, when they fall into their lifelong roles, the synchrony of their movement is dance-like. They cover the ground with the relaxed competence that comes from experience, and from being inside their comfort zone. Here, together, running through the darkness, fully armed, they are in their element and supremely happy.
Warden Tummelson had chosen Grayley because it was outside of town in a rural area. He thought that would be the safest spot; that way Ben Burne would never be anywhere near a population. Tummelson hadn’t considered what a benefit that would be to Ben’s brothers who moved in on the hospital like hungry hyenas on carrion. No one considered that the brothers actually cared - about anything. It was the prevailing assumption that they had skipped the country. It was the expected behavior of the merciless. It was inconceivable that men such as these would enjoy a deep brotherly connection. These men couldn’t have the capacity for real emotion. They were empty beings - must be empty beings. It was so much easier to deny them the essence of humanness, so that nothing was shared: they are nothing like us. No one considered that these men would risk everything to rescue each other. All of the psychologists reported that these men just didn’t think that way. They were narcissistic. They were self-preserving. They were grossly misjudged. The bond between them is fierce. The raw instinct from their shared blood rages within them. There is nothing they wouldn’t do for each other, and if pain is the price, then pain it is. They understand pain. Their mother taught them pain. They scoff at the brotherly affection others claim. Would they kill for their brother? Rip the skin off someone’s face? Chop off someone’s feet? They had no restriction, and no rules. The Burne brothers approached brotherhood the way they approached a big bank score: all or nothing; they had no capability for, and no respect for, moderation. They considered other brothers’ assertions of solidarity anemic. It was all a matter of what you were willing to do for your brother. What exactly were you willing to do? If one thing could be said with absolute certainty, it was that no one understood the Burne boys.
To the right of the emergency sliding glass doors the prison van is parked. Kent and Gravel exchange a confirming look. It’s a go. Gravel’s blood thrills sending a surge of bliss throughout his body. He loves this, every bit of it, the sneaking, the knowing, the teamwork, the weapons, the power. He slips up alongside the prison van and stuffs a cloth into the gas tank. He lights the end and darts back into the darkness.
Inside the operating room, Ben lies cuffed by both ankles to the hospital bed. Doctor Kim is checking the intravenous drip. The nurse stands nearby with a full syringe ready to administer the anesthesia. The chaplain from the prison stands next to Ben holding his left hand. Looking through the glass into the operating room are two prison guards: Wilkins and Rodriguez. They stare into the room believing the threat comes from inside.
Doctor Kim asks a little impatiently, “May we begin?”
Ben replies, “Just one more prayer to the holy virgin.”
Doctor Kim tries hard not to roll his eyes and steps back. The chaplain begins another prayer. “Hail Mary, Full of Grace, the lord is with thee. Blessed art thou…” Ben steals an impatient glance at the clock. Just as he does, an explosion rocks the building. The muscles in Ben’s face relax. He smiles. Yes.
“What the hell?” Doctor Kim runs out of the room followed by the nurse and the chaplain. Wilkins and Rodriguez burst into the room to watch Ben. Wilkins sees the grin on Ben’s face. He feels the shift of power. He pulls his weapon.
“Stay still, Burne.”
“Wilkins, really, I’m chained to the bed.”
“Stay still anyway!”
“Unfortunately, my friend, I’m afraid it’s too late for that. Have you met my brothers?”
Wilkins and Rodriguez spin around! They’re face-to-face with Gravel and Kent. Bang! Bang! And the two guards sink to the operating room floor. Kent gets the keys from Wilkins’ bloody pocket and uncuffs Ben. Ben rips the I.V. out of his hand.
“You’re late,” he says.
“Traffic,” Gravel answers blandly.
“Yeah, and we took the expressway, so we were surprised.” Kent hands a weapon to Ben. “Hey, bro.”
They turn, exit the room and move together down the hospital hallway - blood harmony.
* * *
Ben asks, “Where?”
Gravel replies, “Second floor, southeast window.”
Ben takes the lead. It has always been his role.
Consistent with Gravel’s style, the explosion took out half of the emergency room blowing out one entire wall. Chaos reigns and injuries abound. Ben, Gravel and Kent slip easily through it, onto the stairs, and down to the second floor. They enter an empty room and cross to the window. In the distance, the fire trucks and police cars approach. Gravel takes a small flashlight from his pocket and signals. Flash. Flash.
Theo sees it. He throws the sedan in gear and pulls back onto the road. Two police cruisers speed up on him. He stops politely and waves. They pass by, sirens blaring. Theo drives up onto the lawn at the corner of the hospital, directly under the window. Kent, Gravel and Ben leap to the ground and roll. They dart to the sedan, climb in, and Theo floors it yanking the wheel hard right, driving back up onto the pavement, and they speed down the country road and into the darkness.
Ben now rides shotgun. He takes the power position between his brothers. It is his right. He gets dressed as they move.
Kent gushes, “Jesus, Ben, you look good, bro!”
“I’ve had a nice rest. Did some reading. Worked out in the yard. Hey, Theo, shut up!” He hits the back of Theo’s head. Theo grins. “Nice pick-up boys.”
“My plan,” Gravel says.
“And full of your usual subtlety.”
“Thanks. Be at the lake by dawn.”
“The boat?”
Kent answers, “Waiting.”
* * *