The Getaway (Read a Great Movie) by Jim Thompson Read Free Book Online Page B

ceased its wild palpitating. He kept his eyes shut, waiting, and the voice spoke to him again.
    He had done well-oh, but werry goot! He had remembered that shock was the big killer; shock first, infection second. If one gave way to shock, even a very minor wound could prove fatal.
    "But, Max-" Rudy knew a momentary return of panic. "It ain't minor! He wasn't ten feet away, and he shot me straight through the.."
    Rudy sat up. A hoarse laugh welled in his throat. Shot through the ticker? Why, hell, if that had happened he wouldn't be alive! He examined his torso again, wondering just what had happened and how.
    The riddle remained one to an extent; rather, it had a bit of miracle mixed up in it. The metal-sheathed tip of the holster had obviously deflected the bullet ever so slightly, while it had been further deflected by the iron-hard botch of broken bones and cartilage that formed his rib cage. But still he was very lucky to be alive. And the wound was still nothing to laugh off.
    Extending from a point immediately over his heart, the flesh had been furrowed bone-deep across his chest and halfway around the left side of his body. Probably because of the way he had fallen-his chest arching against his clothes and holster strap-he had bled relatively little, much less at any rate than he normally would have. But movement had opened the wound wide now, and he was losing blood at a dangerous rate.
    He made a bandage with his undershirt, binding it tight with his belt and holster strap. That helped, but not much; nor did it help much more when he added his socks and handkerchief to the bandage. He had one thing left-two things rather-readily available for putting over the wound. The two thick sheafs of bills he had sequestered from the bank loot. But if he used them, got them bloody-and they probably wouldn't do a damned bit of good anyway…
    Huh-uh. He had to keep that dough. As long as he had dough and a gun and a car-but above all, the dough-well, he had a chance. To live. To catch up with Doc and Carol. Beyond that-catching up with and killing them-he couldn't think at the moment. It seemed both a means and an end to him. In their deaths, somehow, he would find life for himself.
    He climbed weakly into the car and gunned the motor, sending the vehicle roaring up and out of the creek bed and onto the road in a skidding series of jumps and jounces. It was the way it had to be. He lacked the strength for reconnoitering, the strength and the time. All he could do was come up fast, and hope for the best.
    His luck held; no one was passing on the road. Luck continued with him as he skirted Beacon City's outer streets and took to the highway again on the other side. Then swiftly, with his blood, it began to flow away.
    He fumbled in the glove compartment of the car, took out a half-filled pint of whiskey. He took a cautious drink, then feeling warmed and stronger, a bigger one. He capped the bottle with one hand, dug cigarettes from his pocket. He found one that was still usable and lit up, drawing the smoke deep into his lungs. Suddenly, for no reason-except that he was drunk-he guffawed.
    Laughing, he took another drink, another long puff on the cigarette. Abruptly the bottle fell from his hand, and the car swerved crazily toward the ditch.
    The cigarette saved him. As he fought to avoid the ditch, he jammed the burning butt between his palm and the steering wheel, and the pain screamed his mind awake, gave it the complete alertness that it needed. But it began to fade almost as soon as it came. He was conscious; then surely, swiftly, he was losing consciousness again.
    " Foolish Rudy. So little blood he has, and he mixes that with alcohol!"
    Rudy brought the car to a weaving stop. Awkwardly, gasping with weakness, he raised and turned himself in the seat, reached down onto the rear floor. His fingers found what they were seeking. Closing them with shaky tightness, he flopped down into the seat again.
    The two sandwiches were dry