The Night Monster_ A Novel of Suspense - James Swain [73]
“Hold still, this is going to hurt,” I said.
I made the bandage good and tight. Long stopped the waterworks and gritted his teeth. Buster plopped down beside him, and Long rubbed my dog’s head.
“Okay, now you have to get up,” I said.
“I don’t think I can walk,” Long said.
“I’m not asking you to walk. Just stand up. I’ll help you.”
I pulled Long to his feet. He leaned against me, and hopped on his good leg. The blood was draining from his face, and I knew his wound was starting to hurt.
“What now?” Long asked.
I took out my cell phone and handed it to him. “I’m going to carry you to the chopper. While I’m doing that, I want you to call nine-one-one, and tell them what happened.”
Long powered up my cell phone and made the call. I threw him over my shoulder in a fireman’s carry, and hiked out of the forest. The sun was blinding, and I crossed the property with my head bowed, listening to Long talk to a 911 operator.
“Tell the operator the Jeep is probably heading north on Twenty-seven,” I said.
“Right,” Long said.
We were approaching the pasture where the chopper was parked. Long was a load, and I found myself gasping for breath. Buster ran ahead of me, barking loudly.
“Oh, Jesus,” Long suddenly said.
My cell phone fell out of his hand, and bounced on the ground.
“Karl, are you all right?” I asked.
Morris jumped out of the chopper and came running toward us. I laid Long on the grass. He had passed out and looked like death warmed over. Morris took his pulse and shook his head gravely.
“He’s going down fast. I have to get him to a hospital,” Morris said.
“His daughter’s abductors are getting away. We have to look for them.”
“Look, mister, my priorities are different from yours,” Morris said. “Karl Long is my boss, and I’m not going to let him bleed to death. That’s my call. Now help me get him into the chopper.”
“Just do one sweep north,” I pleaded. “That’s all I’m asking. It’s what Karl would have wanted.”
“You’re not listening. Get out of my way.”
Morris gathered up Long in his arms and hustled across the pasture to the chopper, where he poured Long into the backseat. I started to follow, then heard a woman’s voice. Grabbing my cell phone off the ground, I pressed it to my ear. The 911 operator was still there.
“This is nine-one-one. Please tell me your emergency,” the operator said.
“This is Jack Carpenter,” I said. “There’s a navy Jeep Cherokee heading north on Twenty-seven. The vehicle is carrying an abducted woman named Sara Long. Are there any cruisers in the area?”
“Hold on,” the dispatcher said.
I watched Morris get into the chopper and shut his door. A sickening feeling filled my stomach as the chopper began to rise into the air.
“Hey!” I screamed, shaking my fist.
Morris lowered his window. “I’m taking him to Broward General. I’ll come back for you later!”
“You son-of-a-bitch!”
“Sorry man!”
I cursed Morris, but the chopper’s blades drowned out my words. The chopper rose into the sky, and I watched it float away. The 911 operator came back on the line.
“I’m sorry, sir, but there are no cruisers in the immediate area.”
“How about police choppers?” I asked.
“I’m sorry, but there was an emergency on the other side of the county, and they’re all taken.”
My head felt ready to explode. I sat down in the grass and stared at the ground. “I used to be a cop. Can you please tell me what’s going on? I need a chopper.”
“I thought your name sounded familiar,” the operator said. “There was a drug bust on the median of I-95 earlier today. The car was filled with cocaine and automatic weapons. The guys running the drugs made a run for it, and the choppers are being used to track them down.”
“So I’m screwed,” I said.
“Give me a description of the vehicle, and I’ll send an alert to the neighboring counties. If you’d like, I can also send a cruiser to where you are.”
“How long will that take?”
“Fifteen, twenty minutes.”
A horrible laugh escaped my lips. Mouse and Lonnie had already gotten a good head start. Worse, they were driving