Grab - Crouch Blake (читаем книги TXT) 📗

Compared to the Strip, this street was practically vacant.

Christian said, "Should I speed or just—"

"Hell yes, speed. We just knocked over a casino, son."

The man pushed the gas pedal into the floor.

They screamed past a vacant lot where a new hotel was in its foundational infancy.

Then Trump Tower.

"Let's get off the beaten path," Isaiah said.

"Any particular direction?"

"Just keep us moving north."

They drove residential streets dead quiet at this hour.

Isaiah said, "Now you keep it under control. Only drive like a maniac if you see the Po-Po coming."

Letty leaned against the glass. Tried to steady her rampant pulse, but it wouldn't slow. They hadn't just robbed at gunpoint. She'd been part of a crew that had fired on casino security. Isaiah could have killed the driver. And if the cops showed, tried to take them down, was there any doubt that a gunfight of epic proportions would ensue?

How did you let it get this far?

Because I needed it to.

Are you really this person, Letisha Dobesh?

She smiled.

Because she was.

Because she loved it.

19

On the edge of town, Isaiah directed Christian into the boondocks of a Super Wal-Mart parking lot. It was surprisingly busy considering the hour. This far out from the epicenter of Save-Money-Live-Better land was the territory of Winnebagos, car campers, and one U-Haul. Specifically, a 4x8 trailer already rigged to the towing package of a car that had piqued Letty's fear several days ago in Arizona.

Isaiah's black Tundra.

Letty climbed out and raised the door.

The four men had the trailer loaded inside of thirty seconds.

# # #

They hit U.S. 95 at 3:00 a.m.

Blasted north.

Isaiah driving.

By 3:15, the suburban sprawl had begun to relent.

Patches of lightless, unsettled desert scrolling past with greater frequency.

The glow of the Strip dwindled in the rearview mirror.

The sky trading the absurdity of the Vegas skyline for honest-to-God stars.

# # #

Even forty miles out of town, no one spoke.

As if their success up to this moment hinged upon a collective silence.

# # #

By four o'clock in the morning they were tearing through a landscape that looked ready-made for missile testing.

Scorched earth.

Joyless mountains.

No trees.

Snakeskin country.

It was Isaiah who finally broke the silence.

Said, "Christian. I'd roll with you again. You absolutely badass."

Letty looked back, saw Christian smirking.

"And you, Letty," Isaiah said. She could hear the celebration beginning to build in his voice. "Wasn't for you, we wouldn't be here."

She said, "I told Christian he'd make at least a million."

"Nope," Isaiah said. "My man stepped up on a moment's notice. Saved the day. Let's call it one point five. How you guys know each other back wherever you from?"

"He's my therapist."

"No, seriously."

# # #

They rode toward Death Valley under a star-blown sky.

Letty's adrenaline charge had tapped out.

She hadn't been this dog-tired since the birth of her son.

Ize turned off the highway.

For several miles, they bumped along a one-lane road that snaked through the creosote.

The stars had just begun to fade and the sky to draw color when Letty spotted structures in the distance.

The road curved toward a collection of buildings. At first, she mistook them for a town, but on approach, she saw they were nothing but skeletons. Broken framework profiled against the sky.

Isaiah eased to a stop in front of the remnants of a three-story building.

The only part still standing was its facade.

The rest had been reduced to crumbling mortar.

Ize killed the ignition.

The silence that flooded in was graveyard quiet.

Through the dusty windshield, Letty spotted four cars parked a little ways down the road.

"Whose are those?" she asked.

"Ours," Isaiah said. "They're just rentals. I figured we'd split the dough here. Go our separate ways."

Christian was sitting in the back between Stu and Jerrod.

He cleared his throat, said, "You're absolutely sure we're safe here?"

Isaiah glanced back between the front seats.

"U.S. 95 South. U.S. 93 South. I-15 South. I-15 North. U.S. 93 North. U.S. 95 North. Six main arteries out of Vegas. They're looking for a vehicle that matches your white Suburban. They will check every motel and hotel within three or four hours, which is why we aren't taking that chance. Why don't you let the professionals do the thinking, my man. You're in good hands."

They climbed out.

It was almost cold in the desert ghost town.

No wind.

Letty glanced back the way they'd come. The dust trail of their passage beginning to settle.

Everywhere she looked—emptiness.

Isaiah walked out into the middle of the road. He stared off at the distant hills.

Then laughed—long and low.

Jerrod and Stu moved toward him, and as he turned, the trio embraced.

A fierce, sudden, emotional huddle.

"I'm so proud. We did it, boys. We did it. They're gonna make movies about us."

"Yeah," Christian said. "And with a big surprise ending."

Letty looked across the hood of Ize's Tundra.

It took her a second to process Christian standing in the road with an AR-15 pulled snug against his shoulder, sighting down the Marines.

"Gentlemen," he said. "Raise your hands and get down on your knees."

Isaiah's head tilted. "What the fuck—"

The gunshot exploded across the desert, the round punching through the windshield of one of the rentals.

"Next shot goes through your eye. Ize."

Isaiah, Stu, and Jerrod exchanged glances.

They slowly lifted their arms, got down on their knees.

"Join them, Letty."

"What are you doing, Christian?"

"You're going to make me kill somebody, aren't you?"

She moved around the front of the car.

"Christian," Isaiah said. "You want more money? An even split? We can do that. This hard-bargaining shit ain't necessary. We're reasonable men."

Letty eased down into the dirt.

"Your offer of one point five million was generous, but I think I'll have to settle for everything. Where are the keys to the Tundra, Isaiah?"

"Ignition."

"Where are the keys to the rentals?"

"Center console."

Christian fired eight shots in rapid succession.

Letty heard the air hissing out of the tires of the cars behind them.

"Everyone, flat on your stomach, spread out your hands."

"I'll find you," Isaiah said.

Christian backed away, keeping the gun on them as he approached the driver side door of the Tundra.

"I could kill you all right here, leave you in the desert. Perhaps you should be thanking me for allowing you to live instead of making empty threats."

"Nothing empty about them, my man."

"Christian, please," Letty said.

"Thank me, Ize," Christian said.

"Fuck you."

"Thank me or you die right now."

"Thank you," Isaiah said through gritted teeth.

"You're welcome."

Letty watched as Christian opened the door.

Isaiah said under his breath, "Anybody packing?"

"No."

"No."

Jerrod said, "I can get there. I can stop this."

"He can shoot," Isaiah said. "In case you missed the part where he went eight for eight on those tires."