Andi returned to consciousness slowly. She cracked her eyes open and immediately wished she hadn’t. The bright sunlight pierced its way into her head, sparking the beginnings of a monumental headache.
She was lying on her side in the bed of Randy’s pickup. She twisted around—after discovering that her hands were bound behind her—and saw Mike lying next to her, his back to her. She wiggled a little closer to him and touched his hands, lacing her fingers into his. The contact took the edge off the fear that was pounding furiously in her chest.
“Mike? You awake?”
He moaned. “Yeah. Wish I wasn’t.” He squeezed her hand reassuringly. “Where’re they takin’ us?”
“That I don’t know,” she said, shivering. “I’m sure we’ll find out . . . eventually.”
‘Eventually’ turned out to be twenty minutes later, when the pickup came to a screeching halt. Andi heard the Monkeemobile roar past, then come to a grinding stop somewhere ahead of the truck.
The bed of the pickup came crashing down and Randy seized Andi by her shirt and dragged her out. Mike followed a few seconds later. They were pushed and shoved to stand next to a guardrail. The road had taken them from the flat plain to a series of small foothills—an embankment sat behind them, sloping down to a grassy overhang over a dry stream bed.
Randy still clutched his shotgun, and he waved it teasingly. He had obviously had a few beers—Andi could smell the alcohol from five feet away. “Now, what am I gonna do with you two?” Mike started to answer, but Andi jabbed him in the ribs, silencing him. She knew it was a rhetorical question and didn’t want to give Randy any excuse to get violent.
“Hey, Randy,” Jim began. “Why don’t we just let’m go? They can’t hurt us . . . we have their car, so just . . . ” He trailed away as Randy speared him with a deadly glare.
“What do you think?” Randy snarled, swiveling around to face Charlie, who gulped audibly and wrung his hands in a gesture that was vaguely reminiscent of Peter.
“I . . . agree with Jim. We can’t just kill ‘em. That wouldn’t be right.”
Mike and Andi stood huddled together as Randy and his two cohorts argued between themselves. Andi cast a quick glance over her shoulder at the embankment behind them. The ground sloped away at a far greater angle than she was comfortable with, but it was smooth and grassy, with no visible stones or branches in the way.
She leaned over to Mike. “Take a deep breath,” she whispered.
“What?” he hissed.
“Just do as I say.”
Mike inhaled, holding the air in for a few moments before letting it out in an impatient snort. “There. You happy?”
“Yeah. I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
Andi steeled her nerves. “For this.” She turned her shoulder and smashed into him, her momentum sending both of them tumbling over the guardrail. Andi caught a brief glimpse of their attackers before her vision became a swirling maelstrom of green and white flashes as she and Mike rolled head over heels down the embankment. After what seemed like an eternity of jolting, violent blows to her head, back, legs, and arms they finally came to rest in the ditch—torn, bleeding, dirty, and completely out of breath.
Andi quickly worked free of the loosened ropes. She rolled onto her haunches, immediately craning her neck in nervous anticipation. She couldn’t see Randy, but she could hear him shouting and laughing drunkenly.
She crept over to the bank, keeping a cautious eye on the guardrail above. She climbed it carefully, keeping her body low to the ground. Hand over hand, she made her way to the rear of the Monkeemobile. She crouched behind the fender, raising her head inch by inch until she could see through the windshield and rear window to the open tailgate of the pickup where Randy and his friends were lounging, celebrating their victory.
Randy was slumped on the tailgate, chugging a beer. Andi’s lip curled as he tossed the empty can over the guardrail, belching with enough volume to awaken the dead deer whose antlers adorned the hood of the truck.
“Disgusting,” she muttered, carefully withdrawing her pocket knife. She unfolded the smaller blade and stuck it into the trunk’s keyhole, keeping her ear locked on the three drunken car thieves, who fortunately were shouting loud enough to give her a precise bead on them. After a few moments’ struggle, the lock snapped open, and she gently raised the trunk lid, reaching inside until her fingers grasped her bag. As she pulled it out the back of her hand brushed a hard wooden object—the box containing her sword.
“Mike, you beautiful genius,” she breathed, yanking out her duffel. Realizing that she didn’t have time to linger over her ‘old friend,’ she undid the brass catches and removed the blade, feeling a sense of relief wash over her as she cradled the slim weapon in her arms. She tossed her bag over her shoulder, carefully closed the trunk, and, casting one more cautious glance in Randy’s direction, scrambled over the guardrail and slid down the embankment.
When she reached the bottom she heard the roar of Randy’s truck and the Monkeemobile and waited tensely until the sound of the engines had faded into the distance.
She let out a long, shaky breath and turned to Mike. He groaned as she touched him. “I can’t believe you did that,” he moaned.
“Sorry, babe. It was all I could think of.” She untied his hands with as much gentleness as she could muster. When she tried to roll him over he hissed in pain.
“No. Let me get up by myself. Might take me a few hours . . . ”
He sat up very slowly, one eye closed against the flow of blood from his temple. He was no doubt as bruised and scraped as Andi, but his posture and bearing indicated that he hadn’t broken any bones.
Andi immediately moved into her ‘protective’ mode. She unzipped her bag and pulled out one of her old T-shirts. As she pressed it to the cut on his temple he squeezed his eyes closed.
“Ow! Andi, that hurts!”
“I know, but it’ll hurt a lot more if it gets infected. Besides, I like your blood, just not where I can see it.”
“Did they leave?” he asked. Andi did not have to ask who ‘they’ were.
“Yeah, they drove off a minute ago. As soon as you feel up to it, we’d better move. They might come back looking for us.”
He squinted at her as she tore the shirt into a strip of a more acceptable width and tied it around his head. “Where?”
“Hmm?”
“Where are we goin’ to go? You don’t know where we are!”
“Neither do you,” she patiently reminded him, missing the look of agitation that flitted across his face. “The way I see it, we have three options: one, stay here and run the risk that they might come back; two, go up to the road and start hitching and run the same risk, or, we head off into the woods and put as much distance between them and us as we possibly can.”
“So you’re gonna get us lost instead. Real intelligent solution.” The edge in his voice was unmistakable.
“Do you have a better idea?” Mike had to admit he did not. “Well, then, pick an option and I’ll go with it.”
“So you’re leavin’ it up to me all of a sudden?”
She sat back on her heels. “Yes.”
He sighed and started to crawl agonizingly to his feet. “Well, we better get goin’. Soon as we lose those creeps we gotta find the guys.”
“Yeah, I hope they’re okay,” she said, her lips thinning anxiously.
No, Mike thought, unable to suppress the bitter notion, you just hope Peter’s okay.
~*~
Micky sighed and rubbed his aching eyes, wishing for the millionth time that he hadn’t left his sunglasses in the Monkeemobile. After the cars had disappeared it became clear that they weren’t coming back—at least not any time soon. He and Peter and Davy had ventured back out onto the road, quickly dissolving into an argument over what they were going to do.
Davy maintained that they should head off down the road after the car. “Maybe the guys who took it got scared and left it and it might be just sitting there.” Micky wondered if the heat wasn’t getting to him.
He, on the other hand, was all for hightailing it back to town and getting help. “C’mon, that guy had a gun! We haven’t got so much as a pocket knife!”
Peter had just stared off into the distance, giving Micky the distinct impression that he was shell shocked. “You okay, Pete?” he asked, temporarily silencing Davy.
Peter just shook his head. “I don’t understand. Why did they do that? We didn’t do anything to them.”
“They wanted our car, Peter,” Davy answered glumly.
“They wanted more than that,” Micky growled, recalling Randy’s predatory leering. “That guy wanted Andi, too.”
“I’m glad Mike’s with her,” Davy said. “He’ll take care of her.”
Peter let out a small moan. “Mike . . . and Andi. I’m scared, guys. What if something happens to them?”
“Man, nothing’s gonna happen to them if we make it back to town and get the police!” Micky shouted, turning in the direction of the small town where the nightmare had begun.
Davy crossed his arms stubbornly and took a few steps in the opposite direction. “I’m following them to make sure of that,” he maintained.
They both looked to Peter, who was still dazed. After a few long moments, Peter looked up, an uncharacteristically determined glare on his face, and joined Davy.
Micky watched the two of them head down the road, then muttered under his breath as he ran to join them.
“Hey, guys, wait up! I’m comin’!”
~*~
“Andi, do you have any idea where the hell you’re goin’?”
Andi stopped and looked up at the sky. “From the position of the sun I’d say we’re heading east, and that’s where that town is. We’re walking parallel with the road, so we’ll run into it eventually.”
“You know, it’s entirely possible that when we were bein’ brought out here we turned off of that road. We could be heading in the opposite direction.”
Andi stopped, brushing her hair out of her face and wincing as her fingers grazed the bruise left by Randy’s fist. “Fine, Mike. Do you have a better suggestion? Because if you do I’d love to hear it!”
Mike growled under his breath and clenched his fists. “Listen, I’m sorry. Losin’ my car, havin’ someone stick a gun in my face, and then havin’ my girlfriend push me over a guardrail kinda puts me on edge, you know?” Andi practically flinched at the bitter sarcasm in his voice.
“Yeah, well, having some drunken psychopath make some obvious passes at me doesn’t exactly set my mind at ease. We’ll find the guys and then figure this out somehow.”
She started to walk once again, adjusting the pack that hung from her aching shoulders. She was unprepared both for Mike’s statement and the way his voice decimated the silence.
“Well, this is a fine mess you’ve gotten us into.”
Andi stopped, the sudden cessation of movement nearly sending her to her knees. “What!?” she barked.
“It was your bright idea to come out here.”
She drew back as if he had slapped her. “I beg your pardon! YOU agreed to come on this trip! I never held a gun to your head!”
“Yeah, you brought us out here so THEY could!” He made a vague, dismissive gesture in the direction from whence they had come.
“I didn’t KNOW, Mike! How could I have possibly known that this was going to happen?” She sighed and rubbed her eyes. “Look, if we don’t find them I’ll replace the car.”
Nothing could have prepared her for Mike’s explosion. “That’s your solution for everything, isn’t it!? Just throw around your money and rattle your sword and everythin’ll be fine!”
Her eyes narrowed to slits. “Is that what you really think of me? You think I just use my money to avoid problems? Where the HELL did you get a dumbass idea like that!?”
Mike balled up his fists and started to turn away. He didn’t want to argue with her, but everything was spinning out of control.
Andi squeezed her eyes shut, wishing for the millionth time that she was back at home in her own bed, instead of dirty, bruised, and standing in the middle of nowhere while her relationship crumbled around her.
“Bet you wish Peter was here, don’t you?”
The sullen, accusatory tone of Mike’s voice froze the blood in her veins. Mike turned and continued walking until her voice brought him up short.
“What is THAT supposed to mean!?!” she roared, her fury pushing its way past her bewilderment.
His anger rose as he looked over his shoulder. “You’re always whisperin’ and gigglin’ with him. You figure it out!” He turned away and started to take another step, but Andi seized him by the arms and spun him about.
“You’re not going ANYWHERE until you explain what you mean!”
He sighed and glared stubbornly at her. “You and Peter. I know what’s goin’ on between you.”
“Oh you DO, do you?” she snapped, her voice razor sharp with sarcasm. “Well, why don’t you enlighten me, because I don’t have the faintest bloody idea what you’re talking about!!”
“Don’t play dumb with me, Andi! I know you’re in love with him!”
She swallowed reflexively and the spittle went down her windpipe. She coughed and choked for a few long moments, the dry, dirt-brown grass spinning wildly around her. Please, God. Tell me this isn’t happening.
When she finally regained her breath she straightened. “I am NOT in love with Peter, Michael.” She only called him Michael when circumstances were especially dire. “I realized of late that I have been spending an . . . unreasonable amount of time with him. That’s why I’ve kept my distance from him. That’s why I suggested this trip. I’ve been trying to . . . make up for lost time.”
“It’s not just time, And. You told Peter about your parents. You told Peter about your brother. Every time you come home from therapy you’re talkin’ to him. That don’t sound like love to me.” The bitterness in his voice had been replaced with hurt and sadness, which pierced its way right into the depths of her soul.
I wish he’d start yelling again. That I can deal with. Not this.
“So if you wanna be with him, fine. I won’t get in the way.” He turned and started across the field. He did not look back.
“Peter was right. Peter was right about Mike . . . and now I’ve lost him.” The words twisted her heart like a vice, choking off her air. Numbly and with no awareness of what she was doing, she followed him, not knowing why . . . and not caring.
On to Chapter Four
Back to Chapter Two
Back to Infinite Rider main page
