Chapter 3 The Lustful Gateway (3)

"Listen, girl, I am from Mosul! Okay?! You think I don't know dead men when I see them?" He stabbed a finger tward Rudy. "That man is dead. And so is that man. Very dead." "Oh God, call 911!" said Travis, his voice wavering with fear. "No!" countered Vanessa. "We can't call the cops!" "It was self-defense!" Travis pressed. "We're not gonna be in trouble for that!" "It was self-defense for you," Vanessa said. "I just shot—fuck, I just shot Joey!" "Yeah, but that guy was gonna kill me if you didn't shoot him," Travis argued, pointing at Joey. "It's on the security cameras, right?" "Shit," Ali sighed, coming out from behind the counter and heading toward the door. "Those cameras have never worked since I've been here." He promptly hit a couple of switches to turn off the exterior lights, then produced a hooked rod which he used to pull down the sliding door over the store entrance. "What are you doing?" Travis asked. "Making sure I don't have customers wander into this," Ali scowled. He turned to look at them both. "So. He wants to call the police. What about you?" he asked Vanessa. "Are you in any trouble with the authorities?" Travis's jaw dropped. "How is this even something we need to talk about?" Ali's hands came to his hips. "Have you ever tried speaking to Seattle police without being a white male?" Travis's only answer was to drop his jaw even further. "Exactly. So allow us a moment. They won't become any more dead than they are already. Now. Girl. Talk." "I—" Vanessa's voice failed her. She finally lowered the gun. "There's still two more of them. They've got my baby." "Then why don't you tell the—?" The question died on Travis's lips. Given what Ali had just asked, he felt dumb for even thinking it. "I can't prove it!" said Vanessa. "I can't prove anything! All I've got on me is my driver's license and a couple of condoms! They've got everything else. I don't even have keys to get in where I live." "Oh, goodness, what am I thinking?" Ali muttered. He strode between the two stunned young people in his store to walk over to the tiny aisle of housewares. "So you have a baby? A boy? A girl? What name?" As he spoke, he grabbed a small plastic package of sponges and a small bundle of pink mechanic's rags. "Chester," Vanessa sniffed. "His name's Chester. He's not even two and he's all I've got. They keep him locked up while I'm out working." Something inside of Travis twisted as he saw the distress on Vanessa's face. "Look," he said, "that's kidnapping, right? If they're forcing you to—you're a hooker, right? I mean a prostitute? If they're forcing you—" "You think I'd be in this situation if the cops ever followed up on shit like that?" Vanessa snapped at him. "You ever been told you're not a credible witness? Or been arrested on a bullshit charge by the cop you just asked for help? I can't even begin to tell you the shit these assholes have gotten away with." Travis looked to Ali, hoping he would have something reasonable to say. The older man seemed to be handling the stress of the moment much better than he or Vanessa. Ali busied himself stuffing sponges into Joey's shirt to sop up the blood from his fatal gunshot wounds. "So their associates will take revenge on you for this through your boy?" Ali asked. "Hell yeah, they will!" Ali nodded. He looked to Travis with something of a sad face. "So there you have it. By the time she is done dealing with the police, even if she is not charged with anything, her boy disappears. Or ruthless men come looking for her. Probably both." "Lemme go get him," Vanessa said, taking a deep breath to steel her resolve. "Just gimme a little time and I'll get him out. Then you can go to the cops and do whatever. The cops will probably catch me and put Chester in some sort of... I don't know what, but at least he won't be with Rudy's guys and he won't be hurt." Ali nodded. "How many are there?" "Just two." Ali looked to Travis. He didn't say anything. "Oh, hey, waitaminute," Travis mumbled. "Boy, listen to me. You see the trouble she is in. You had the courage to stand up for her when these men threatened to harm her." Travis and Vanessa looked at one another. "Look, I never wanted to kill anyone," she said. "If it was that simple I could've found a way to take a gun and just shoot them all and run, but—" "Is that your plan now?" Travis asked. "Where'd you learn to shoot that, anyway?" "I grew up in Arizona." "Oh," Travis said. That answered that, apparently. "And yeah, if I have to go it alone, I'm probably gonna have to shoot them. I'm not some helpless damsel in distress. I just didn't have any options before." "You are not," Ali agreed, "but you don't need to stand alone, either. Young man. Think. If we call the police, we doom her boy. You will give your statement to the police and probably be up very late, but eventually you will go home and sleep in your warm and safe bed, and you will wonder what happens to her and to her boy. Do you want that?" Travis glanced at Vanessa. "You have some sort of plan?" "I'll come up with something one way or the other," she nodded, "but if I'm not alone I've got a lot more in the way of options besides just shooting people, yeah." Travis couldn't believe he was even discussing this. He wondered what his parents would say about this, and how many questions they would have... and, suddenly, he wondered why he cared so much about that. "No," he answered. "No, I don't. What about you?" Ali shrugged and gestured to the two bodies. "I have to take care of this mess if we are not going to call the cops. I suspect no one will miss these men, will they?" he asked Vanessa. "Nobody's gonna file a missing persons report, if that's what you mean. These people don't call the cops, no matter what." "So you're just gonna hide them?" Travis asked. "I have options," Ali shrugged. "This is a very convenient store."