A Perfect Darkness (19 page)

“D
on't turn around,” Amy said as Petra began to look. “He doesn't know that we know yet. We need that advantage.”

“How'd you get so good at this stuff?”

Amy gritted her teeth. “Same way you're good at it. Necessity. Like that thing at the gay festival.”

Petra laughed nervously. “That kind of thing is different. It's acting. This is drive-for-your-life stuff. What kind of car is he in?”

“Blue Buick, one car back. I only see one guy.”

“Two against one…no problem.”

Amy smiled. “That's the way to think.”

“I wish we could, like, blow something up or make it go up in flames.”

“You never know; we just might be able to.” Amy slowly accelerated. She couldn't take a chance of flagging a cop's attention with erratic driving. “Okay, here's what we do. We're only a couple of miles from the car. We need to get out of Mr. Buick's sight long enough to hide the 'Cuda. Once we're on foot he won't be able to find us easily.”

“What if we get remote-viewed again?”

“Remember, Eric can't remote view for very long, and it drains him to do it more than once. We have to hope that person gets the same way.”

Petra curled her fingers around her seat belt. “How can you be so positive?”

“Because I can't afford to be negative.”

Traffic was holding her back. Mr. Buick was getting closer. He was way better at maneuvering than she was. At a light, he pulled up just behind her in the next lane. He had a Latin or Middle Eastern look about him.

“Pretend to laugh,” Amy said, pointing at a lingerie store.

He inched closer as the car next to her readied for the green light. He wanted to get a good look at them, apparently. That gave her a good look at him. At, in particular, his glow.

“Purple.”

“What?”

“He's not one of us. That's the good news.” The light turned green, and she accelerated at a normal rate even though she wanted to stomp the gas pedal.

“Do I want to know what the bad news is?”

“He's got a purple glow. Violent intent. I saw it when that man grabbed me at the marina.”

They crossed the Patuxent River toward the US 301 exchange. She'd studied Cyrus's map and knew they'd loop onto that and head south. The blue Buick followed at a respectable distance throughout the maneuver. Almost there. She had to come up with a plan. She searched the area, one with which she wasn't familiar.

“Hand me my backpack.” As she drove, she released
her seat belt and slid out of it. The car key was in her pocket, and Petra had the extra key on her. “Be ready to go. You
had
to put me in this dress, didn't you? At least I have sneakers on.”

Petra released her belt, too, looking around with wide eyes. “You just passed the Wal-Mart.”

“I know. I'm going to take the next road and come from the back side. We need to ditch this car—”

“
Ditch
it? No!”

Amy turned onto the next road and drove through a residential area. “We've got to. It's too risky driving it when it's been in the paper. Maybe we can come back and get it.”

Petra let out a whimper but didn't argue further. She worried her plump lower lip. “If we get caught, Eric will just kill me for coming with you. Even if I'm already dead, he'll kill me again. He didn't think you'd really get the car by yourself.”

“Let's not worry about that right now.” Amy cased the area, the Buick behind her.

“We're going to get caught, aren't we? Then we're going to be in that horrible place where Lucas is, and we're going to die.”

Amy glanced over at Petra, whose face wore a mask of despair. She reached into her mind for her counseling skills. “Petra, listen to me. We're going to be fine. We will get out of this. If we think we're done for, then we are. We must believe that we'll get away. Got it?”

Petra nodded.

“If we get separated, we meet in the lingerie department at Wal-Mart at eight o'clock.”

Amy saw her break. Both lanes were crawling, a school bus slowing the right lane even more. The bus
lights began to blink, indicating it was going to stop. She zipped in front of a car in the left lane. The Buick butted in two cars back. The car in front of her sped up, trying to outrun having to stop. The Stop sign was just swinging out. The car in front of her passed the bus. The kids would be in a line, ready to board the bus and not scattered around.

She swung in front of the bus and turned right. The bus driver honked, but she breathed out in relief that there were no kids in front of the car. Seconds later she turned into a large apartment complex. She saw a strip of woods to the right, just beyond a small park area. Luckily it was too cold for anyone to be using it. Good thing. She tore right through it. She aimed for an opening in the trees she hoped was big enough to accommodate the car. Branches scratched along the sides. She stopped once the car was completely in the woods and cut the engine. They both threw their doors open and ran.

“This way,” Amy said, breathless from fear. “Damn!”

The Buick screeched in. He pulled into a close spot and left the car as fast as they had. He made better time, too, running just outside the edge of the trees.

Amy headed back toward the road on the other side. Running in a dress wasn't cutting it. The skirt rubbed against her legs and hindered her movement. She hiked it up to her thighs.

Between gasps, Petra said, “We should go…different ways. That way he'll only…get one of us. We'll stick to our backup plan.” She continued straight.

Even with a plan, Amy could see that the whole thing was falling apart. Damn remote viewing! She broke out of the woods into the backyards of clusters
of town houses. Her chest hurt. She was out of shape for running for her life. Over her heartbeat she heard something else: footsteps. He had gone after her.

She ran to the front of the town houses and crouched at the rear corner of one of the cars in the parking lot. Her throat was so dry she could barely swallow.

A man said, “Can I help you find something?”

Another man said, “Girl just stole my wallet. I saw her run this way.”

“What is it with kids these days? I saw a girl over there a minute ago.”

“Thanks, man.”

Amy grimaced.

“Should I call the cops?”

“I am a cop. I'll take care of her. Please go back inside.”

Like hell he was. Wearing loose pants and a light jacket, he was dressed to move quickly. She bent down low enough to see the black sneakers of the man she thought of as Buick coming toward her. She crept around the corner and saw him with his hand at his waistband, ready to grab his weapon. He had handcuffs clipped to his belt. She dashed to the low bushes along the side of the building. In the near distance she heard the 'Cuda's throaty engine start. Petra had doubled back and gotten the car.
Good, get out of here!

“Yeah, it's me,” Buick said in a low voice. “Petra is in the Barracuda in the Bowie area. I've got the other one in my sights. I'll bring her in soon.”

Amy shivered. She hoped like hell he couldn't actually see her. In a crouch, she ducked around the back corner, toward the next set of buildings, and then into
the space between them. She paused, hearing his footsteps close behind her. Dammit, she didn't have enough time to get any distance away. She picked up a rock and lobbed it toward the bushes along the back of the next building. Make him think she'd gone that way.

She ran toward the front and came upon a muddy black truck jacked up on huge tires. With a glance to make sure Mr. Buick hadn't come around yet, she climbed into the bed of the truck and dropped down. The bed floor was covered with beer cans and camping equipment. She pulled a tattered green tarp over her. His footsteps crunched on the grass as he walked back to the parking area. While she was holding back her ragged breaths, she heard no breathing effort from him.

If he caught her, she'd be trapped. He'd cuff her, take her away. The thought of it squeezed her stomach. She said the Lord's Prayer as his footsteps grew closer, and then it morphed into, I can't do this anymore. I can't. If I get away, I'll forget everything and go into hiding. Panic welled up inside her, washing over her in waves.

Remember that speech you just gave Petra. I will get away.

Dammit, it was a lot harder to take her advice than to give it.

 

Petra wanted to take the car and haul ass. She wanted to get herself and the car safely back to the tomb. But she wasn't alone in this. Their pursuer had gone after Amy when they split up, and now she was in trouble, big trouble. How could she just leave Amy? Then again, she might get caught, too.

No, no, think positive like she does. Even if it is annoying.

She opened her cell phone, pressed a button and said, “Eric,” to activate the voice command.

He answered on the first ring. “Where the hell are you?”

“Bowie, near the Wal-Mart, getting the car. Before you rant, I need to tell you, they can remote view us. That's how they saw where we were. There's a guy after us, and he means business. Amy and I split up, and he went after her. I'm in the 'Cuda.”

“Get back here,” he said. “If she's going to risk her ass for a car, let them catch her.”

“You don't mean that, Eric. We're a team.”

“Obviously not, if you're going to run off without me.”

“You wouldn't come anyway.” She had to admit that having him with them would have been nice, but she never wanted to see him blowtorch anyone. “I'm going to get Amy. I've got to concentrate on my driving. 'Bye.”

Feeling stronger, she tossed the phone onto the seat and turned down the street from which they'd turned. Amy had to be there somewhere. She expected to see her dart across the street any second. When she didn't see her, Petra pulled into a complex of town houses, and saw Mr. Buick stalking toward a black truck. He held a gun close to his thigh. She tuned in her hearing. Amy's breathing. She could hear her someplace close. The truck!

Panic grabbed her throat. He was about to find her, and she had to stop him. How? She punched the gas pedal and drove right at him. When he jerked up
his arm to shoot at her, she fell sideways as the car rammed the truck. He fell backward, and Amy shot up out of the truck, shock on her face. Even more shock when she saw Petra waving her on.

Amy jumped out of the truck bed and dove into the open window of the car as Petra backed up. Mr. Buick was scrambling for his gun as residents came pouring out of their homes to see what the commotion was. He'd snatched it up and tucked it under his jacket as Petra tore out and turned onto the street.

The light was green, then turned yellow. Petra floored the accelerator.

Gotta make the light!

One more second.

She flew through just as it turned red.

Only then did she glance at Amy, sprawled in the passenger seat. “Are you all right?” she asked.

Amy looked shell-shocked, with her hair sticking out and her face flushed. “Yeah, I think so. I'm just…surprised.”

“That I hit the truck you were hiding in. I didn't actually mean to do that.”

“No, that you came for me. I thought you'd hightail it.”

Petra gave her a sheepish grin. “I considered it. But I knew you'd do the same for me.”

“Thanks.”

She turned into the Wal-Mart entrance. Amy pointed to the far right corner. “The car is over there. Drop me off near it and then park behind the building. I'll pick you up. We can't bring his car back,” she added, anticipating Petra's protest. “I heard Buick calling someone to tell them you were in it. I'm sorry.”

Petra knew she'd never see it again. “Me, too.”

Amy jumped out, and Petra drove around to the back of the building. She pressed her cheek against the steering wheel and then punched the CD player Eject button. She grabbed the U2 CD and the case and got out. The front corner of the Barracuda was dented, but the car had withstood the ramming well. A minute later Amy drove up in a beige older-model Toyota Camry. Plain, common…the perfect car to blend in.

As they pulled away, Amy's cell phone vibrated in her backpack. Petra recited the number on the screen. With a sigh, Amy said, “Ozzie, my neighbor and friend. Put him on speaker phone…Yeah, Oz.”

“Amy, you're scaring me to death here. I've been trying to call since you hung up on me. Let me help. I need to help. I've watched movies where an innocent person is being chased by the bad cops and stuff. I saw that Will Smith movie like ten times. You need someone on the outside.”

“You are helping. You're taking care of Orn'ry until I can get him. That's really important to me.”

“No, I'm talking about big help. Like getting you supplies or joining up with you.”

Petra couldn't help but grin. This Ozzie guy reminded her of Eric, jonesing for adventure.

“Okay, here's something you can do,” Amy said. “I had to leave a really special car behind the Wal-Mart in Bowie. Go get it and tuck it away somewhere. I'll hide the key…Petra, take the key off the ring.” Amy slowed down. “I'm on North Crain Highway at the light at Governor Bridge Road, heading to Annapolis. I'm throwing the key next to the road.”

“How will I know the car?”

“Look in the paper today. There's a description of it. By the way, that's because the police are looking for it. 'Bye, Oz, gotta drive.”

Hope spiked. “Will he do it?” Petra asked.

“Probably not.”

“I'd better call Eric, let him know we're all right,” Petra said, pulling out her phone. “Hey,” she said when he answered. “We're on the way back.”

She expected him to harangue her, but he was eerily calm. “All right, I'll see you soon. Be careful.”