Black Balloon

Chapter 14

Clouds of steam blasted from my face like a coal-powered locomotive as my warm breath met the frigid night air. My lungs burned and my heart raced but I never slowed down, not even for a moment. As I ran, I heard the explosion of a second gunshot. I wanted to turn and see what had happened, but was too afraid. I feared the bullet may come whizzing past my head, that or I'd turn and see Gendelman laying beside his colleague, having put a bullet through his own skull.

No matter how far I ran, the mountains never seemed to grow any closer. They remained permanently on the horizon like a rainbow, infinitely distant and unattainable. I had grossly underestimated their distance. I ran for what felt like miles. When I was finally within a thousand feet of the hills, I spotted a beige object sitting at their base. It was a large something, covered in light brown canvas, like a painter would use to cover furniture. The car.

When I eventually reached the car, I was panting and wheezing. I pulled on the canvas but it barely moved. The corners were weighed down by heavy stones. I tugged it hard with both hands and in a dramatic "whoosh" of cloth, a car was revealed, as shiny as the day it rolled off the line. It was a brand-new Cadillac. The only blemishes, if they could be called such, were grains of sand embedded in its tires. I reached for the door handle and it opened with a satisfying "thunk". On the driver seat was a single sheet of notebook paper. I picked it up:

It is very important that you read this quickly and listen carefully. There is a compass on the passenger seat. The keys are in the ignition. Travel northwest in as straight a line as you can. The desert is bumpy but it's drivable. You will eventually reach an asphalt highway. Take a right and go north. Keep going north, but do not stay on this same road if you can avoid it. Take as many alternate routes as you can so you are not easy to find. Go fast, but not so fast as to alert police. Time is of the essence but I'll buy you enough to get away SAFELY. When you are sufficiently far, a hundred miles at least, and well off the beaten path, hide somewhere and open the glovebox. More info will be found inside. I've provided you with everything you need.

God Speed. DESTROY THIS LETTER IMMEDIATELY!

He hadn't signed it or addressed it to anyone for obvious reasons. In Gendelman's typical style, the note was clear, concise, and to the point. He had wasted no words. I decided I'd keep the page beside me for reference (despite his very clear instructions) and destroy it only when I must. If the men-in-black came for me, I'd pop it in my mouth and chew it to mush.

I climbed in the driver's seat and grabbed the steering wheel, which was sleek and narrow, like a thin metallic hula-hoop. I searched the floor with my left foot for a clutch, dreading the prospect of driving a manual transmission, but to my surprise there wasn't one. The car was an automatic with a shifter on the column. I turned the key and the engine roared to life. Thank Christ. My time spent driving a manual had been a brief and unpleasant experience, which involved getting yelled at by my dad, several stalls, and a lot of thrown gravel.

I threw it into drive, pushed the gas, and the beastly V8 let out a lion's roar. A cloud of sand erupted from beneath the spinning rear tires.

Wow.

The antique car had some power. I pushed the pedal again, a little less forceful this time, and the giant metal machine, a freight train of a vehicle, lurched slowly forward. We were soon cruising along. I fumbled for the headlights which took me about ten minutes to locate and provided barely more light than the full moon. As I drove, my eyes darted neurotically between the rearview and driver's side mirrors expecting to see a row of headlights pursuing me at any moment, the full force of the U.S. military hunting me down. I checked the sky for signs of approaching helicopters. For fear of being spotted, I flipped the headlights back off and cruised "incognito". Well, as incognito as one can be in a powder-blue three-ton Caddy in the middle of the California desert. As shiny and chrome as this thing was, it was probably visible from space. The Moon illuminated the desert just enough to see, and luckily there wasn't much out here to crash into anyway.