Defective - A Psychopath's Tale

Chapter 16

I burned up a couple hours doing dodge-backs, reverses and switches to avoid tails and eyes. I'd made use of my professional disguise kit and changed my appearance; the only thing I couldn't change was my height. Being 188 centimeters tall, I stood out. Tullis didn't know about my quick change abilities, as far as I knew; this was one facet of my existence I kept hidden from most everyone, including Sheila.

Tullis was a dickhead and an idiot, but he wasn't stupid; he was a person to be feared. Anyone whom crossed him had a tendency of ending up dead; and I'd just crossed him in a big way. He'd be putting out calls to every Scottish syndicate family, putting me on the watch for list.

One advantage I had, mister Tullis didn't know what I really looked like without another face glued to my own face and makeup applied. Mister Gagucci had taught me that lesson very early, long before even the senior mister Tullis had met me. I'd spent two different summer breaks working with a special effects girl in Hollywood learning the finer points of the trade of costumes and disguises.

Another advantage, or necessity, was many names to use. Some were through people that Tullis owned, others weren't. I'd picked up a few in other countries as well that nobody knew of. Now I became my cleanest best pseudonym and alternate identity. I'd only used it once before; I wanted to keep it pristine just incase I really needed to disappear. Which now, I truly did.

Rockwell Arlington was from AlbuquerqueNew Mexico, that place that cartoon rabbit I watched as a small boy always said you were supposed to make a left turn at. Rockwell was a trust fund baby. His parents had died when he was young and he inherited the family fortune; at least that's what the 'official' records claimed and the story they told. He was a quiet boy, kept to himself and traveled around the Imperial Guild of States on occasion, never leaving the country even though he kept his passport up to date.

With my Rockwell Arlington identity reclaimed, and two others just for good measure, I left the small loft one of my other unknown personas owned and headed to a garage on the outside edge of New Brittan's suburbs. The garage, or pole barn, on land I rented; I owned the building itself but not the land. This kept its existence out of any records on any of my alternate identities. I hadn't been to the garage in well over a decade. About a quarter kilometer from where the building was, civilization ended and woodlands began.

Inside was a stash of goodies that I'd accumulated for situations such as the one I was in now. Below the main floor was a cache of vehicles. Each one nicely preserved in a crate belonging to different versions of me. There was also cash, clothes, various electronic devices from TV's and stereos, furniture, everything you could possibly need to start a new life. And naturally, there was a vault with other identities and cash in it, for emergencies.

One vehicle that wasn't crated, but rather covered in tarps, was an RV camper. I'd be using that and the identity it belonged to. Klondike Ramses owned the camper. I uncrated his car as well. I'd be putting it on a trailer that I'd pull with the camper and using this identity to travel to Vermont. Klondike owned a small spec of land in Vermont, once in Vermont, I'd visit someone not far away.

I needed to get away from the big city, and Tullis and Company. I needed a quiet and safe place to sort things out, a place I could figure out what I was going to do; how I was going to end up dead in mister Tullis' mind so I could start this new life I'd been planning and dreaming of for so long.

-_-_-_-_-_

The lot I would park the camper at hadn't been touched in years. After I finally arrived, I forced my way through the growth to a small shed in the corner of the lot. The brush hog and mower were still there and wrapped in plastic. I spent the better part of the next hour getting the brush hog and mower ready for action.