thunter.fearloathinglasvegas-第27部分

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s　sure　of　that。　So　we　left　the　Flamingo　at　exactly　seven…thirty。。。but　for　some　reason　we　failed　to　make　the　turnoff　at　the　stoplight　in　front　of　the　Tropicana。　We　kept　going　straight　ahead　on　the　freeway；　that　parallels　the　main　airport　runway；　but　on　the　opposite　from　the　terminal。。。and　there　is　no　way　to　get　across　legally。
　　〃Goddamnit！　We're　lost！〃　my　attorney　was　shouting。　What　are　we　doing　out　here　on　this　godforsaken　road？　The　airport　is　right　over　there！〃　He　pointed　hysterically　across　the　tundra。
　　〃Don't　worry；〃　I　said。　〃I've　never　missed　a　plane　yet。〃　I　smiled　as　the　memory　came　back。　〃Except　once　in　Peru；〃　I　added。　〃I　was　already　checked　out　of　country；　through　customs；　but　I　went　back　to　the　bar　to　chat　with　this　Bolivian　cocaine　dealer。。。and　all　of　a　sudden　I　heard　those　big　707　engines　starting　up；　so　I　ran　out　to　the　runway　and　tried　to　get　aboard　but　the　door　was　right　behind　the　engines　and　they'd　already　rolled　the　ladder　away。　Shit；　those　afterburners　would　have　fried　me　like　bacon。。。but　I　was　pletely　out　of　my　head：　I　was　desperate　to　get　aboard。
　　〃The　airport　cops　saw　me　ing；　and　they　gathered　into　a　knot　at　the　gate。　I　was　running　like　a　bastard；　straight　at　them。　The　guy　with　me　was　screaming：　'No！　It's　too　late！　Don't　try　it！'
　　〃I　saw　the　cops　waiting　for　me；　so　I　slowed　down　like　maybe　I'd　changed　my　mind　。。。　but　when　I　saw　them　relax；　I　did　a　quick　change　of　pace　and　tried　to　run　right　over　the　bastards。〃　I　laughed。　〃Jesus；　it　was　like　running　full　bore　into　a　closet　full　of　gila　monsters。　The　fuckers　almost　killed　me。　All　I　remember　is　seeing　five　or　six　billyclubs　ing　down　on　me　at　the　same　time；　and　a　lot　of　voices　screaming：　'No！　No！　It's　suicide！　Stop　the　crazy　gringo！'　〃I　woke　up　about　two　hours　later　in　a　bar　in　downtown　Lima。　They'd　stretched　me　out　in　one　of　those　half…moon　leather　booths。　My　luggage　was　all　stacked　beside　me。　No　body　had　opened　it。。。so　I　went　back　to　sleep　and　caught　the　first　flight　out；　the　next　morning。〃　My　attorney　was　only　half　listening。　〃Look；〃　he　said；　〃I'd　really　like　to　hear　more　about　your　adventures　in　Peru；　but　not　now。　Right　now　all　I　care　about　is　getting　across　that　god　damn　runway。〃　We　were　flashing　along　at　good　speed。　I　was　looking　for　an　opening；　some　kind　of　access　road；　some　lane　across　the　run　way　to　the　terminal。　We　were　five　miles　past　the　last　stop　light　and　there　wasn't　enough　time　to　turn　around　and　go　back　to　it。
　　There　was　only　one　way　to　make　it　on　time。　I　hit　the　brakes　and　eased　the　Whale　down　into　the　grassy　moat　between　the　two　freeway　lanes。　The　ditch　was　too　deep　for　a　head…on　run；　so　I　took　it　at　an　angle。　The　Whale　almost　rolled；　but　I　kept　the　wheels　churning　and　we　careened　up　the　opposite　bank　and　into　the　oning　lane。　Fortunately；　it　was　empty。　We　came　out　of　the　moat　with　the　nose　of　the　car　up　in　the　air　like　a　hydroplane。。　。　then　bounced　on　the　freeway　and　kept　on　going　into　the　cactus　field　on　the　other　side。　I　recall　running　over　a　fence　of　some　kind　said　dragging　it　a　few　hundred　yards；　but　by　the　time　w　e　got　to　the　runway　way　we　were　under　control。。。screaming　along　about　60　miles　an　in　low　gear；　and　it　looked　like　a　wide…open　run　all　the　to　the　terminal。
　　My　only　worry　was　the　chance　of　getting　crushed　like　a　roach　by　an　ining　DC…8；　which　we　probably　wouldn't　see　until　it　was　right　on　top　of　us。　I　wondered　if　they　could　see　us　in　the　tower。　Probably　so；　but　why　worry？　I　kept　the　thing　floored。　There　was　no　point　in　turning　back　now。
　　My　attorney　was　hanging　onto　the　dashboard　with　both　nds。　I　glanced　over　and　saw　fear　in　his　eyes。　His　face　appeared　to　be　grey；　and　I　sensed　he　was　not　happy　with　this　move；　but　we　were　going　so　fast　across　the　runway…then　cactus；　then　runway　again…that　I　knew　he　understood　our　situation：　We　were　past　the　point　of　debating　the　wisdom　of　is　move；　it　was　already　done；　and　our　only　hope　was　to　get　the　other　side。
　　I　looked　at　my　skeleton…face　Accutron　and　saw　that　we　had　three　minutes　and　fifteen　seconds　before　takeoff。　〃Plenty　of　time；〃　I　said。　〃Get　your　stuff　together。　I'll　drop　you　right　next　the　plane。〃　I　could　see　the　big　red　and　silver　Western　jetliner　about　1000　yards　ahead　of　us。。。and　by　this　time　we　were　skimming　across　smooth　asphalt；　past　the　ining　runway。
　　〃No！〃　he　shouted。　〃I　can't　get　out！　They'll　crucify　me。　I'll　have　to　take　the　blame！〃
　　〃Rediculous；〃　I　said。　〃Just　say　you　were　hitchhiking　to　the　airport　and　I　picked　you　up。　You　never　saw　me　before。　Shit；　thos　town　is　full　of　white　Cadillac　convertibles。。。and　I　plan　to　go　through　there　so　fast　that　nobody　will　even　glimpse　the　goddamn　license　plate。〃　We　were　approaching　the　plane。　I　could　see　passengers　but　so　far　nobody　had　noticed　us。。。approaching　from　this　unlikely　direction。　〃Are　you　ready？〃　I　said。
　　〃Why　not？　But　for　Christ's　sake；　let's　do　it　fast！　He　was　scanning　the　loading　area；　then　he　pointed：　〃Over　there！〃　he　said。　〃Drop　me　behind　that　big　van。　Just　pull　in　behiond　it　ad　I'll　jump　out　where　they　can't　see　me；　then　you　can　make　a　run　for　it。〃　I　nodded。　So　far；　we　had　all　the　room　we　needed。　No　sign　of　alarm　or　pursuit。　I　wondered　if　maybe　this　kind　of　thing　hap　pened　all　the　time　in　Vegas…cars　full　of　late…arriving　passengers　screeching　desperately　across　the　runway；　dropping　off　wild…eyed　Samoans　clutching　mysterious　canvas　bags　who　would　sprint　onto　planes　at　the　last　possible　second　and　then　roar　off　into　the　sunrise。
　　Maybe　so；　I　thought。　Maybe　this　kind　of　thing　is　standard　procedure　in　this　town　I　swung　in　behind　the　van　and　hit　the　brakes　just　long　enough　for　my　attorney　to　jump　out。　〃Don't　take　any　guff　from　these　swine；〃　I　yelled。　〃Remember；　if　you　have　any　trouble　you　can　always　send　a　telegram　to　the　Right　People。〃　He　grinned。　〃Yeah。。。Explaining　my　Position；〃　he　said。　〃Some　asshole　wrote　a　poem　about　that　once。　It's　probably　good　advice；　if　you　have　shit　for　brains。〃　He　waved　me　off。
　　〃Right；〃　I　said；　moving　out。　I'd　already　spotted　a　break　in　the　big　hurricane　fence…and　now；　with　the　Whale　in　low　gear；　I　went　for　it。　Nobody　seemed　to　be　chasing　me。　I　couldn't　understand　it。　I　glanced　in　the　mirror　and　saw　my　attorney　climbing　into　the　plane；　no　sign　of　a　struggle。。。and　then　I　was　through　the　gate　and　out　into　the　early　morning　traffic　on　Paradise　Road。
　　
　　I　took　a　fast　right　on　Russell；　then　a　left　onto　Maryland　Parkway。。。and　suddenly　I　was　cruising　in　warm　anonym　ity　past　the　campus　of　the　University　of　Las　Vegas。。。no　tension　on　these　faces；　I　stopped　at　a　red　light　and　got　lost；　for　a　moment；　in　a　sunburst　of　flesh　in　the　cross…walk：　fine　sinewy　thighs；　pink　mini…skirts；　ripe　young　nipples；　sleeveless　blouses；　long　sweeps　of　blonde　hair；　pink　lips　and　blue　eyes…　all　the　hallmarks　of　a　dangerously　innocent　culture。
　　I　was　tempted　to　pull　over　and　start　mumbling　obscene　en　treaties：　〃Hey；　Sweetie；　let's　you　and　me　get　weird。　Jump　into　this　hotdog　Caddy　and　we'll　flash　over　to　my　suite　at　the　Flamingo；　load　up　on　ether　and　behave　like　wild　animals　in　my　private；　kidney…shaped　pool　。。〃　Sure　we　will；　I　thought。　But　by　this　time　I　was　far　down　the　parkway；　easing　into　the　turn　lane　for　a　left　at　Flamingo　Road。　Back　to　the　hotel；　to　take　stock。　There　was　every　reason　to　believe　I　was　heading　for　trouble；　that　I'd　pushed　my　luck　a　bit　far。　I'd　abused　every　rule　Vegas　lived　by…burning　locals；　abusing　the　tourists；　terrifying　the　help。
　　The　only　hope　now；　I　felt；　was　the　possibility　that　we'd　gone　to　such　excess；　with　our　gig；　that　nobody　in　a　position　to　bring　the　hammer　down　on　us　could　possibly　believe　it。　Particularily　not　since　we'd　signed　in　with　the　Police　Conference。　When　you　bring　an　act　into　this　town；　you　want　to　bring　it　in　heavy。　Don't　waste　any　time　with　cheap　shucks　and　misde　minors。　Go　straight　for　the　jugular。　Get　right　into　felonies。
　　The　mentality　of　Las　Vegas　is　so　grossly　atavistic　that　a　really　massive　crime　often　slips　by　unrecognized。　One　of　my　neighbors　recently　spent　a　week　in　the　Vegas　jail　for　〃vagrancy。〃　He's　about　twenty　years　old：　Long　hair；　Levi　jacket；　napsack…an　out…front　drifter；　a　straight　Road　Person。　Totally　harmless；　he　just　wanders　around　the　country　looking　whatever　it　was　that　we　all　thought　we'd　nailed　down　in　in　the　Sixties…sort　of　an　early　Bob　Zimmerman　trip。
　　On　a　trip　from　Chicago　to　L。A。；　he　got　curious　about　Vegas　and　decided　to　have　a　look　at　it。　Just　passing　through；　strolling　and　digging　the　sights　on　the　Strip　。。。　no　hurry；　why　rush？　He　was　standing　on　a　street…corner　near　the　Circus　Circus；　watching　the　multi…colored　fountain；　when　the　cop…cruiser　pulled　up。
　　Wham。　Straight　to　jail。　No　phone　call；　no　lawyer；　no　charge。　〃They　put　me　in　the　car　and　took　me　down　to　the　station。〃　he　said。　〃They　took　me　into　a　big　room　full　of　people　to　take　off　all　my　clothes　before　they　booked　me。　I　was　standing　in　front　of　a　big　desk；　about　six　feet　tall；　with　a　cop　sitting　behind　it　and　looking　down　at　me　like　some　kind　of　medieval　judge。
　　〃The　room　was　full　of　people。　Maybe　a　dozen　prisoners；　twice　that　many　cops；　and　about　ten　policewomen。　You　had　to　walk　out　in　the　middle　of　the　room；　then　take　everything　out　of　your　pockets　and　put　it　up　on　the　desk　and　then　strip　naked…with　everybody　watching　you。
　　〃I　on