See Tom Run (13 page)

When they approached Thirty-Eighth Street, Erin let
out a gasp.

“Kyle’s car!”

Up ahead, Tom saw a beat up Toyota Tercel parked near
the corner of the street. When they reached the car, Erin opened
the door and began rummaging through the back seat. She found her
coat, got out and put it on.

“I love this coat!” she said. “It was expensive,
too.”

“Any chance this thing still runs?” Tom asked.

“No way. It totally broke down. Kyle said something
about dropping the transmission. That’s how we got caught in the
first place.”

“Oh. Hell, it’s damn near daylight out—we have got to
get moving!”

“I’m with you!” Erin cried.

They sprinted the remaining four blocks to
Thirty-fourth Street fueled by sheer anxiety and adrenalin—they
knew they would be sitting ducks if the boys found them now. They
rounded Thirty-fourth and made it as far as the Empire State
building before Tom finally admitted to himself he simply had to
stop to rest—even though they had only one more block to go.

He pushed one of the doors open and the two ducked
into the lobby of the historic skyscraper. As he stood there
catching his breath, Tom looked around and recalled the many times
he’d been in this lobby, for he had made frequent trips up to the
observatory to view this wonderful city whenever he needed
encouragement or reassurance. It had always worked miracles.

The memory made Tom recall how many questions he had
for Erin once they got out the city and back on the road. He
especially wanted to know about her connection with New York and
what part Kyle had played in her life.

“Let’s do it,” he panted, making a silent vow to
start working out again if and when things got back to normal.

They exited the lobby and broke into a full run west
on Thirty-fourth. In another forty seconds, Tom saw his Jeep parked
ahead in the growing light, looking like an oasis in the middle of
the Sahara.

“God, I hope the damn thing starts!” he exclaimed,
casting a final look behind for any sign of the hearse, elated that
they had made it this far. Now, if only their luck would hold out
and the engine would turn over—

The loud blare of a car horn suddenly broke the
silence. Tom whipped around and to his horror, saw the hearse
flying directly toward them—

“Jesus, there they are!” he cried.

“Screw it—we’re dead!” Erin exclaimed.

“Not yet, kiddo. Step on it and see if we can make it
to the Jeep!”

Tom glanced back quickly again and saw that the
hearse was only a couple of blocks away. It was going to be awfully
close—and a fricking miracle if the Jeep started.

They stumbled up to the Laredo, flung open the doors
and hopped inside in unison. Tom reached for the keys in the
ignition only to discover that they were gone. Chappy and the boys
had taken them. The hearse was now less than a block away—it almost
seemed to be moving in slow motion now—which meant that this
nightmare was almost over and he would suddenly wake up the moment
he died.

They were screwed …

Then Tom remembered his spare key—the one he had
ditched in the console after misplacing his keys one too many
times.

“Frick an a!” Tom shouted. He reached over between
the seats, snatched the key out of the compartment and fumbled
around trying to guide it into the ignition. Tom looked in horror
at the hearse heading straight for them at full speed—

They were going to ram them head-on!

Tom turned the key. The engine cranked once and died.
He turned it again. The engine cranked twice, faltered for a split
second then fired up.

But it was too late—the hearse was only yards away
now. Tom could see Hoops and Chappy grinning from ear to ear in the
front seat of the Caddie as they prepared for impact.

Tom threw the gearshift into reverse and floored it.
The Jeep lurched backward so fast that Tom’s head hit the steering
wheel almost hard enough to knock him out.

The Jeep fishtailed wildly to the left and swayed
like it was going to fall onto its side as it plowed toward the
entrance of Macy’s. The hearse continued speeding toward them,
nearly sideswiping them as Tom saw Hoops whiz past the Jeep—

They’d missed them by a coat of paint!

Tom slammed on the brakes just as the Jeep jumped the
sidewalk and plowed directly toward Macy’s main entrance. It
skidded backward into the door and smashed the plate glass with a
huge jolt. Tom threw the gearshift into drive and floored it,
flying back out over the curve and east on Thirty-fourth.

“Christ, that was close!” he gasped.

“No shit!” Erin said. “I can’t believe they just
missed us!”

Tom looked in his rear view mirror and saw the hearse
pull a U-turn and head toward them again.

“We’re not out of the woods, yet. Here they
come!”

Tom tried to get his bearings as he flew down
Thirty-fourth. What was the best way to lose these bastards? he
thought, struggling to recall the streets of Manhattan. Heading
back to the Lincoln Tunnel was out of the question—he needed more
time to put some distance between themselves and the ghouls. Should
he keep heading east and see if he could shake them before he got
to the FDR, then head back toward the Tunnel? Or should he cross
over to Queens or Brooklyn and take a totally different route out
of here?

“They’re gaining on us!” Erin shouted.

“I know—that hearse must have a goddamn 427 in
it!”

“How can we lose them?”

“I’m thinking—I wish we had a gun so we could blow
out one of their tires!” Tom blurted, feeling like an extra in a
“B” movie.

“Maybe you should turn onto one of these streets,”
Erin suggested.

“Nope, I don’t want to do that. We need to keep going
as fast as we can; turning will just slow us down.”

Tom’s heart was in his mouth as he glanced in the
mirror and saw that the hearse was no more than three or four car
lengths behind them. The accelerator was all the way to the floor
and he now regretted not getting a V-8 Cherokee instead of this
doggy six-banger.

He had flown by Lexington Avenue and crossed Third
Avenue when Tom realized that they were running out of road. There
was Second then First Avenue before they dead-ended into the FDR.
He wasn’t going to be able to lose these guys by any stretch of the
imagination before then—he had to think of something else.

Suddenly he had an idea: The Queens Midtown Tunnel!
It was coming up any time now and maybe, just maybe he could throw
them off by taking the tunnel at the very last second …

Tom knew it was a gamble because he would lose
precious seconds turning off for the Midtown Tunnel instead of
continuing on to the FDR. But there was a good chance that these
demented shits were assuming he would be taking the FDR—heading for
Queens wouldn’t make any sense.

And that was exactly what he was banking on.

Tom flew through the intersection of Second Avenue
and saw the sign for the Midtown Tunnel up ahead. Instead of
applying his brakes to slow down for the access road and thereby
give his pursuers a cue, he waited until he had almost past it,
slammed the gearshift into second, turned the wheel hard to the
left, jumped the curb and headed north on the access road.

Tom looked in the rearview mirror. The hearse had
missed the turn! He heard the sound of the hearse’s tires squealing
as he floored it and headed toward the ramp to the tunnel. Another
turn and they were inside the pitch-dark underground passage.

“We lost them!” Erin exclaimed as she looked
back.

“Yeah, but just for a moment. I’m sure they’ll be
back on our tail in a flash. But at least we managed to put some
distance between us.”

Tom glanced at the fuel gauge just as he saw the
headlights coming at him in his rear view mirror. He was on
empty!

“Shit, here they come again!” Erin cried.

“Yeah, and that’s just part of the bad news. I’m
running on fumes.”

“Oh, no! When do you think we’ll run out?”

“It won’t be long, trust me. We’re never going to
outrun them now—we’ll be at a dead stop any minute!”

“Oh, Tom, what are we going to do?”

“If we just had a weapon of some kind.”

Erin shouted, “They’re almost on us already! What are
those sparks coming out of the side of their car?”

Tom looked in the mirror and saw intermittent sparks
flying from the hearse. Apparently, they must have hit something
when they turned around after he had eluded them. As the hearse
drew closer, he saw that the chrome bumper of the old Caddy had
somehow gotten smashed in and caused something, maybe the license
plate, to drag along the pavement and create the sparks.

“Man, I’ll bet they’re pissed now! Hoops must not be
too swift of a driver. Chappy will— Whoa, wait a second! I think
I’ve got an idea!”

“What?”

“We have to hurry, though—they’re only a couple
hundred feet away! Quick, Erin, climb back to the cargo
compartment!”

“Why?”

“I’ll tell you in a second—just go!”

“Okay!”

Erin whipped off her seat belt, turned around and
bolted in between the seats to the back. She climbed over the
backseat and into the cargo area.

“Good girl. Now, I’m going to release the rear window
lock and you push it open. See that gas can sitting back there?
Once you get the window open, unscrew the cap and chuck that gas
can outside. Hurry!”

Tom pressed the rear window release button and heard
a click.

“It’s unlocked!” Erin shouted.

“Push it open! Christ, hurry before they get any
closer!” Tom cried.

Tom watched Erin in the rear view mirror as she
pushed the window open, his ears popping from the sudden vacuum it
created. He saw her hoist the gas can up and rest it on the edge of
the tailgate, unscrew the cap then push the can out the window.

“Geronimo!”

“Hit the deck, Erin!” Tom shouted.

That second, there was a huge orange/red blast of
light that completely illuminated the tunnel, followed by an
ear-deafening explosion. Tom saw the hearse explode into flames and
continue speeding toward the Jeep like a meteor gone wild.

“You all right?” he hollered back.

Erin’s head popped up over the back seat. “Wow, that
was crazy! Shit, they’re still coming at us!”

Tom realized just then that he had lightened up his
foot on the accelerator after the explosion so he floored it again.
The ball of fire that was once a Cadillac hearse appeared to slow
down as the Jeep sped quickly away from it.

“We did it!” Erin yelled.

“It sure looks that way,” Tom said. “Now I just hope
we get to the end of this tunnel before we run out of gas.”

Erin began making her way up toward the front seat.
The fireball was smaller now but still lit up the tunnel like a
Christmas tree.

“Great job, kiddo!” Tom said, giving Erin a high-five
as she sat back down in the passenger seat.

“Thanks—god, that was so
exciting!”

“Yeah, a little too exciting for this guy! I think I
left my heart about a mile back or so!” Tom declared.

“This was just like out of an action flick! What made
you think of the gas can idea?”

Tom smiled dryly. “Seeing the fuel gauge on “E.” Then
remembering that I had a couple of gallons back there in the
can.”

“Cool—just like James Bond!”

“Well, I don’t’ know if I’d
go
that
far,” Tom
chuckled, impressed that Erin had apparently checked out a Bond
movie or two.

“I see light up ahead!” the girl cried.

“Thank God—if we can just get out of this tunnel
before we run out of gas, I’ll be forever grateful.”

In another moment they emerged into Queens and headed
directly into a beautiful sunrise. Now on the Long Island
Expressway, Tom sped past the tollbooths and got off on the first
exit they came to.

“Got to find a gas station pronto—keep your eyes
peeled,” he said to Erin.

As luck would have it, the engine suddenly sputtered
a couple of times then died altogether. Tom coasted to a stop.

“Screw it. Well, at least it’s a beautiful
morning-perfect for a stroll in Bumfuck, Queens,” Tom groaned.

“At least we’re
alive,”
Erin reminded him.

He glanced over at his young passenger and smiled.
“Point taken. Let’s be sure to keep it that way.”

They got out and started walking north on
Twenty-First Street. It was surreal, walking along on such a
bright, crisp morning and hearing nothing but their footsteps
echoing dully off the concrete. As had been the case in Manhattan,
vehicles were scarce and there wasn’t a soul in sight, not even a
bird singing a song.

“Do you think things will ever be the same?” Erin
asked solemnly.

Tom looked around at the deserted streets and empty
sidewalks. In all of the time since being captured by Chappy and
his sidekicks, he hadn’t given this ongoing dilemma much thought.
He’d thought of his family of course, but only in fleeting moments.
He’d thought of the fact that virtually everyone in the world had
vanished, but had not dwelled much upon it. When your life was on
the line and you were fighting to survive, all else seemed to fade
into the background.

Now, at least at that particular moment, he and Erin
seemed out of danger. And now, like a bad penny, the bitter reality
of their bizarre situation suddenly appeared again.

“I just don’t know, Erin. I mean, here we are in the
most populated city in the country and all we’ve seen are three
other people—and I’m using that word loosely. Not only are there no
other human beings—there isn’t even a single animal or insect! It’s
so hard to conceive that what might seem like an impossible
scenario has become real and that there is no rational answer to
where we will go from here. I’m sorry to say this, but I don’t feel
too good about any of this. I mean, to be perfectly honest, I
really can’t see things just suddenly going back to the way it used
to be.”