Born to Lose by James G. Hollock Page B

Lubresky said, “Yep, here we are, and they’re still on that damn river lookin’ for us, shiverin’ their asses off. We fooled ’em good!”
    Both fell silent while Lubresky continued smoking, each turning to his own thoughts, but in a minute Hoss spoke up. “Here it is, Tom; you got it made in the shade. Once you get to this girl’s trailer … hell, I bet inside a half-hour you’ll have a hot shower and are knockin’ one off.”
    â€œYeah, damn straight I will.”
    â€œNow, one last thing,” said Hoss. “You gotta—and me too—we gotta get outta these prison duds. At least they ain’t striped but they look funny all the same.”
    Lubresky nodded, lit another smoke, but said nothing. After ten heartbeats, the silence was oppressive. Their getaway car, just filled with laughter and stinging remarks about lawmen, now took on the feel of a funeral parlor. Heading this off, Hoss made a flip statement about a few staffers at the workhouse. “‘Do this, do that!’ Ain’t they got nothin’ better to do than boss us around? ‘Go to bed, get up.’ Well, they ain’t tellin’ me one more damn thing. You too, Tom. We’re done with their fuckin’ rules.”
    Lubresky tossed his smoke out the window and reluctantly stuck out his hand. “Well, see ya, Stan.”
    â€œYeah, Tom, see ya around an’ good luck. I couldn’ta busted out without your help. Remember, the thing is to stay out of sight for a while. They’ll eventually quit lookin’ for us.”
    Lubresky got out, then slammed the door shut. He was going to bend down to look at Hoss and give a final wave, but the car moved away.
    . . .
    In the early morning the day after the escape, Kathy Defino received a phone call at the bakery where she worked. “Kathy, this is Patrolman Red Orris. I just got off the phone with your folks. Kathy, I have to tell ya somebad news.” The young girl felt a tightening in her chest, her first thought that one of her brothers had been in a car crash.
    â€œI don’t want you worrying none,” said Orris, “but, well, you know Stanley Hoss?” Orris grimaced—of course she knew Stanley Hoss. “Last night him and another fella escaped from the workhouse.” Hearing a gasp from Kathy, Orris attempted to calm her, quickly adding, “We’re lookin’ for them right now. Everyone’s notified and out, and I don’t suspect they got much of a chance of lasting more than today.”
    â€œOh God! Oh God! Where is he now? Do you think he’s coming here?”
    â€œNah, not a chance. Remember, Hoss has been locked up since Easter and he don’t know where you work nohow.”
    â€œYeah, but he sure knows where I live! He said—you know this—if I ever told on him he’d kill me!”
    â€œI know, I know, but that’s why right now we got a police car goin’ to your house, and he’ll be sittin’ there till it’s all over. Your parents are on their way to get you, so just stay put and try to relax.”
    Kathy put the receiver down. She turned to find the other two bakery workers standing close to her, concerned. She muttered the name Hoss, then reached for a pack of cigarettes in her sweater pocket, for she’d found that smoking helped sooth her jangled nerves. Kathy walked to the picture window at the shop’s entrance and pulled the cord of a large bamboo blind, allowing it to roll all the way down. Pulling up a stool at the window’s edge, she puffed nervously, periodically using her finger to draw the blind back an inch so she could peek out to see if anything evil was close by.
    To help out a shorthanded East Deer Station, Blawnox Chief Mike Belotti sent out a car to pay a visit to Hoss’s wife, Diane, who was not surprised her husband had escaped. She knew him as capable of anything. She informed the