With telepathy offering instantaneous communications with all his brothers via either Asmodeus or his mate Gabriel Ash had little use for small electronics.
It was a lack of knowledge he apparently needed to fill.
That, though, was for later.
The cars were trying to close them in.
Hampered by what traffic there was and trapped within the cement boundaries of the interstate, Ash dodged and darted around the other vehicles to avoid their pursuers. It was clear their hunters had no concern for the other drivers and in fact actively used them as one cut a minivan off to force the other vehicle into Ash’s path in order to make him swerve. A long line of truck drivers, hampered by the fog higher in the mountains, occupied the slow lane, providing a virtual wall on that side.
No sooner had he dodged one trap than another came up on them.
It felt oddly as if they were being herded.
Ash narrowed his eyes. He didn’t like being herded and he hated feeling helpless.
He looked ahead to see more cars speed off the entrance ramp ahead, five of them, one after another, each taking their places across the three main lanes. A blockade of sorts, with the two extra cars prepared to cut them off along the shoulder.
All in addition to those that already hunted them.
Ash’s jaw tightened.
With the memory of what had been done to Asmodeus in the back of his mind, Ash refused to even consider the idea they might be taken. There had to be a way out of the trap that was closing around them.
Ducking onto the shoulder while he could, he shot the bike past two of the cars that had come up behind them even as they moved to box them.
Weaving through traffic, he looked for alternatives.
A car ahead of them suddenly swerved into his path while another slid in from the right.
Ash shot the bike into the opening on his left before a third car closed that off, too.
The odds were in Templeton’s favor as long as they stayed on the interstate Ash knew and those odds increased the longer they stayed on it. Getting off at the next exit was no guarantee either as it was likely Templeton would have men waiting.
They were in more mountainous and wooded country now.
Ash saw the small break in the guardrail. It split around a little hillock that was enough of a block for the state to have chosen to go around instead of through it. A well-worn track from other bikers was carved into it. It looked as if there was nothing on the other side but farmland. It was a risk, the jump would be interesting as, unlike those other bikers, Ash would be taking it blind. If worst came to worst, though, he could always shift to his own form but he’d have to be quick, turning to grab Miri even as he did to keep her from getting hurt.
“Miri,” he called, “our best chance is to jump…”
They were running out of time, the hillock was coming up fast. He pictured in his mind what he wanted to do.
It would be like some of those motocross competitions Miri had seen on TV. They would go airborne. High. Very high. She didn’t even ride roller coasters. Terror shot through her but she trusted Ash. What choice did she have?
She nodded against his back but swallowed hard against the fear that clogged her throat. She made herself stay loose but her heart pounded as she eyed the small knoll looming ahead. It looked steep and she couldn’t see what was on the other side.
Her heart rose into her throat.
Resolute, gritting her teeth, keeping her fear locked away from Ash’s perception, she answered, “Go.”
Ash already had his line but he didn’t want to give their pursuers any more warning than he had to about his plans so they wouldn’t have time to cut them off.
Deliberately he held, held, before he turned the bike toward the hillock and the well-worn path the local dirt bikers had ground into it. If they’d gone there then he could too. There would be something on the other side.
Or so he hoped.
With his hands locked tightly on the handlebars, Ash gave the bike more gas.
The sudden burst of speed as they hit the little hill sent the bike soaring into the air as he looked frantically for their landing, trying to hold the bike upright and straight. In the back of his mind, he was amazed Miri still stayed loose, that she hadn’t stiffened up. With her weight on the back of the bike, though, they came down teeth-jarringly hard on the back tire and then the front. Ash wrestled the bike into submission using every bit of his Daemonic strength to keep it upright and moving. Then they were racing along one of a myriad dirt bike paths shooting out onto some backcountry road.
“Miri?” he asked.
“I’m all right.”
Feeling her tremble, Ash reached around enough to pull her more tightly against his back again. It was all the comfort he could afford to give until he was sure they’d put some distance on their pursuers. At least for long enough to find this device, whatever and wherever it was. He knew every inch of the bike as he’d helped build it.
There was also the problem of Gabriel’s valley, haven of the Daemonae and their final destination.
He couldn’t lead Templeton and his people to it, their only refuge. They’d only been there a year, give or take, his brothers weren’t prepared for an all out assault, not yet, and he would do exactly that with a tracking device on his motorcycle. Templeton would love that. Once he knew they were there it would no longer be a refuge but a trap. His brothers would be driven back across to the other plane once again. Ash couldn’t allow that.
“This tracking device?” Ash said, “How big is it?”
Miri shrugged helplessly. “Depending on circuitry and how it’s programmed, how sophisticated it is it could be as small as your thumb or even smaller. If you’re right and Templeton is behind this it could be anywhere on the bike, even in the gas tank.”
The electronics involved were hardly more sophisticated than her advanced science class in middle school.
He shook his head. “The gas tank on this bike needs a key.”
Glancing at it, he realized they also needed gas and soon. They’d gassed up earlier, but they were dangerously low once again.
They’d passed a big truck stop at the last exit. He remembered seeing line after line of trucks parked there. It had been like a maze. There was cover and lots of it. Templeton wouldn’t expect them to backtrack so that’s what they would do.
If they were lucky most of those truckers would still be in the restaurant eating their breakfast while they waited for the fog higher in the mountains to burn off. As he had learned at this time of year it would be nearly noon before a fog that thick cleared. They’d have to move fast. However, Templeton’s men would be hampered by the limitations of the interstate, confined and hemmed in by the barriers. Many of them wouldn’t be able to get off until the next exit. Which would buy he and Miri even more time.
“Then it’ll be attached somewhere fingers can reach,” Miri said, “someplace magnetic.”
Ash smiled, a part of him easing.
“My people don’t react to iron well, so this bike was constructed largely of composite materials. There are only a few parts made of metal.”
Slowly, Miri smiled. “That helps, I’ve been wracking my brain trying to figure out a way to find it. With the technology available today, they can look like almost anything. The circuitry and electronics are very simple, I built something like it for my middle school science project.”
But she’d been an advanced student.
“We need gas too. There was that big truck stop back on the highway…” Ash said.
It was as busy as he hoped, most of the drivers looking to get on the road but hampered by the reports of the still thick fog higher in the mountains. Some had pulled in for breakfast, some few pulled out to get a head start. All the activity was even better cover. Even Templeton wouldn’t chance much with so many people around as witnesses.
Ash quickly gassed the bike up, scanning the area around them both of them alert for any newcomers paying too much attention to them.
“We need a map,” he said. “The interstates are too open.”
“I’ll get one,” Miri said, and hurried to the little store.
It wasn’t a simple map she brought him, but a book of them, an atlas.
“That’s perfect,” he said.
He guided the motorcycle deep into the ranks of tractor-trailers, hiding within the maze of them. That would buy them a little time. He wanted the bike ready to go if trouble came calling. Now he could search the bike, but time as growing short.
“I’ll go keep an eye out,” Miri said.
Nodding, Ash ran his hands over every part of the bike that had even the slightest trace of metal on it – nuts, bolts, anything. He’d helped build it, he knew it by heart.
Their pursuers would be easy to spot. Better to have some warning than to find themselves surrounded.
“Stay in my line of sight.”
She nodded.
Miri made her way among the rumbling trucks, some still running for reasons she couldn’t explain, until she reached a vantage point that allowed her to see both entrances to the truck stop. The smell of food from the restaurant made her stomach ache and rumble. There hadn’t been time to eat since the night before and she was starving.
There was no sign of pursuit, not yet, but given their persistence, Miri didn’t doubt it was coming.
“Well, hello there,” an unfamiliar voice said behind her. “What do we have here?”
Turning her head, she glanced backward even as she lifted an eyebrow at the tone of the question.
The trucker was one of those few who still prided himself on being a red-necked Southern boy – and not in the funny ‘You Might Be a Redneck’ kind of way. His beer gut preceded him by nearly a foot and both his gimme cap and barely seen belt buckle proudly displayed the flag of the Confederate South.
He tipped the hat back on his greasy head and eyed her with a none-too-pleasant leering smile that was shy a few teeth.
Given how disheveled she must look, she could guess what he was thinking.
The name ‘Roy’ was stenciled onto his grimy work shirt in the same greenish khaki color as his no-iron polyester work pants. Those were long past still being no-iron. The color, liberally daubed now with the ghosts of motor oil and grease, didn’t suit him.
He spit a long stream of tobacco juice to one side, making her stomach churn.
With a sigh, Miri looked at him.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” she asked as he stepped closer, licking his lips as he eyed her speculatively.
“I’m pretty sure you ain’t goin’ anyplace so fast I can’t catch you before you get there,” he said. “You and me could have a real good time up in my cab.”
“Somehow, I don’t think so,” Miri said dryly, “but you might want to check with my boyfriend first.”
Glancing over the trucker’s shoulder she met Ash’s glittering eyes as he came up behind the other man.
With a long-suffering sigh and a bit of a grin, Ash said, “I can’t leave you anyplace, can I?”
She shrugged. “Did you find it?”
Ash held up a little device about the size of his thumb.
“I found this underneath the muffler.”
The trucker looked from one to the other of them uncertainly.
Even under the best of circumstances, at six foot five or so Ash tended to look more than a bit dangerous. Now, despite the grin, he looked particularly intimidating. It didn’t help that his smile looked like a shark’s just before it bit you, all teeth.