Knock Knock Who's There?

"Ten hours if this bitch keeps going. You in a hurry?"

"I've all the time in the world."

There was a long silence as the truck roared on, then Davis asked, "You married?"

"Me? No."

"I guessed that. You wouldn't be on a trip like this if you were. You know something? A guy can find a good woman or a bad woman . . . I guess I had no luck."

Johnny didn't say anything.

"You're lucky not to have kids," Davis went on. "I've got a girl. Sex is all she thinks about and her mother doesn't give a goddamn." Davis thumped his head so violently Johnny winced. "What can you do? If I took a strap to her, the cops would arrive. There ain't a thing a father can do if his daughter has the hots."

Johnny thought of Melanie. What was happening to her? Had Massino . . .? He flinched and forced the thought from his mind.

"Getting hot." Davis said and wiped his face with the back of his hand. "This is a hell of a haul." He kept the shuddering truck at seventy miles an hour. They were now out of the farming country and coming to the swamp land. "This I hate," Davis said. "Snakes, jungle . . . you watch it. We'll get by. After a while, we'll come to the real country . . . the south!"

Watching this big man as he crouched over the driving wheel, seeing the glazed expression in his eyes, Johnny knew something bad was about to happen.

"You're driving too fast!" he shouted. "Cut it down!"

"You call this fast?" Davis turned his head to look at Johnny who felt a chill go up his spine. The small eyes with their scar tissue were turning sightless. "The greatest . . . like me! He'll come back!"

"Watch the road!" Johnny shouted. "Joe!"

Davis grinned stupidly, then took his hands off the steering wheel and began to beat his head. Johnny made a grab at the wheel but he was too late. The truck roared off the freeway and with screaming tyres, it ploughed into the jungle.

Thrown against the cabin door, Johnny felt the door give and felt himself falling. He landed on his back in a thick flowering bush that broke his fall, then he rolled to the ground.

He lay stunned, listening to the truck ploughing through the thicket, then came the sound of a grinding crash as the truck hit a tree. As he struggled upright, the gas tank of the truck exploded and the truck went up in a roaring sheet of flame.

Johnny started towards the blaze, then saw it was hopeless. His sense of self-preservation asserted itself. Within minutes a prowl car would arrive. It would be fatal if the cops found him. They would question him, search him, and the moment they found he had a gun and three hundred ten dollar bills stuffed into his pockets, he would be cooked.

He started down a narrow path that led into the jungle, aware that his right ankle hurt. He forced himself along, limping now and frightened that he had suffered an injury that might develop into something bad.

He hadn't gone more than five hundred yards when he heard the wail of a siren. He broke into a limping run, stumbled and fell flat.

Hell! he thought. I've hurt my goddamn self! He scrambled to his feet and set off again, but this time he was in bad pain and was dragging his leg. After a hundred yards or so, with cold sweat running down his face, he could go no further. He looked around. To his right was a big clump of tangled undergrowth. He forced his way to it, then collapsed on the damp ground. Sure that anyone coming down the path couldn't see him, he stretched out his aching leg and prepared to wait.

What Johnny couldn't know was that this. accident had saved his life. Had Davis delivered him to Jacksonville, Johnny would have walked into the trap Ernie and Toni had set up.

He didn't know, and he cursed his luck as he lay in the undergrowth feeling his leg slowly stiffening. He had been lying there for the past four hours.

The police, the ambulance and the break-down truck had come and gone. The jungle was cool, and Johnny, badly shaken, was content to lie there and wait. He suffered. His ankle was swelling and when he looked at it, he saw with alarm it looked red and angry. Had he broken it? Maybe it was just a bad sprain. The thoughts of putting his weight on it made him flinch.

Later, he became thirsty. He looked at his watch. The time was now 13.05. He would have to make an effort to get to the freeway. With any luck he would pick up a ride. He had to get to Jackson!

He crawled out of the thicket and on to the path. He could smell the burned-out truck and the undergrowth that had gone up with it. On the path, he forced himself up on one leg, then gently he put a little of his weight on his damaged ankle. Pain raved up from the ankle into his head.

Jesus! he thought. I'm in goddamn trouble! He sank down, feeling sweat break out on his face and a light feeling of faintness that frightened him.

He had better wait, he thought. He had better get back into the undergrowth. Maybe later, he would be able to use his leg.

He began to crawl back towards the undergrowth when he saw the snake.