“Put on the radio” she said, “I want to hear if they’re onto us yet.”
I reached down and ejected the tape. I started scanning around for a station. I scratched past some country and western, some talk show stuff, some classic rock. I found a news report and left it on.
We both sat in silence, listening to the newscaster. They didn’t mention what happened in Albuquerque, or in Deming, or at the side of the road where we left the bleeding cops. We were both a little disappointed.
“I don’t think we’re going to get to hear about ourselves” she said.
“I think you’re right. They probably won’t report it until they’ve caught us.”
She looked at me and smiled again.
“If that’s the case then they’ll never report it.”
“They’ll report it tomorrow baby. Nationwide. Worldwide maybe.”
Her eyes lit up and she started clapping her hands together.
“We’ll be famous! Posthumously fucking famous!”
I smiled at her. I always wanted to be a famous rock star. She told me once that she wanted to be a famous Hollywood actress. We knew that tomorrow we would both get half of our dreams. I guess that’s more than most people ever get.
I looked back in the mirror. There were no twenties left in bag. I could see the half moon rising higher in the sky behind us. I reached my arm over and put my hand in front of her mouth. She started to kiss and bite at my fingers. She looked around for another tape. She picked one and pushed it. It was Rumours by Fleetwood Mac. Our favorite album.
“Yes!” I shouted, springing back to life, “I fucking love you sugar!”
“I fucking love you too button!”
We both sung ‘Second Hand News’ as we blasted towards the setting sun, almost gone behind the wide horizon.
We heard the cop cars just as the sun disappeared. We pulled over and turned the music down. ‘Don’t Stop’ was playing quietly in the background. It seemed pretty appropriate to be honest. But we did stop.
“Is this it?” she asked, smiling widely.
I looked at the blue and red lights lighting up the dark sky from around the way. That deep into the desert we could hear the sirens for miles. They’d be here in a couple of minutes at most. I tightened my hands around the wheel. I could feel my knuckles go white, trying to burst out of my skin.
“Yeah. I think it is.”
“Okay” she said. She opened the door and got out. She walked to the hood of the car. She turned the light on her cell phone on and started to write something in the dust on the hood. I got out and walked around. The sirens were getting louder. I looked back. I could see a helicopter light beaming down onto the sand, scanning around for signs of life.
“What are you writing?” I asked, putting my arm around her and kissing her hair.
“Our suicide note!”
“That’s great!” I said, watching her write it quickly, beautifully, without thought.
“Done!” she said, stepping back and shining the light onto the hood.
We did what we did because we do what we want.
And our laughter will echo forever,
louder than guns and sirens.
Our victory lap around the wind.
Good night motherfuckers x
I felt a little tear drip from the side of my eye. I wiped it away and started to laugh.
“It’s beautiful sugar.”
She turned to me.
I saw that same drip in her eye, tugging at her thick make-up. It held up strong. She looked so real.
I brought her to my lips and felt that rush run through my body like it had so many times before. We pulled away and wiped the tears from one another’s eyes. We both smiled. We turned and looked to the blue and red lights getting closer, stronger.
“Let’s do this then” I said.
We got back into the car and sat down. I opened the glove box and pulled out the other gun we brought with us. We hadn’t used it yet. I just pointed it at her stepmother. You know, to calm her down. She shot her with the other gun. I took off the safety and closed the glove box.
“Okay” she said, “take out one of your bullets and give it to me.”
“Just do it.”
I pulled one out and handed it to her. She did the same.
“That’s the one I want to kill me.”
“Okay” I said. We each slid the other’s bullet into the chamber and snapped it shut.
She turned the music up, drowning out the helicopter and sirens. ‘You Can Go Your Own Way’ played on. She looked at me and smiled. Her tears had dried up. Mine had too.