by Kelly Moore
“Don’t be sorry. Whatever you do, don’t stop,” John says. He climbs in the very back and smashes the window out with the butt of his gun. Jake hangs partially out the window. “Aim for the tires, his glass is bulletproof!” he yells.
Shots start flying as the Hummer gains on us. Keeping both hands on the wheel, I make it past the traffic jam and weave in and out of lanes, trying to out run them. I swerve in between two semis and Jake is flung over to the other side of the Jeep.
“Jesus Brooklyn, we’re trying to kill Miles, not me!” he says, rubbing the top of his head.
“Get back over in the far right lane, there’s a bridge coming up!” John yells out. I swerve again, flinging Jake back over to the other side. When he recovers he glares at me the rearview mirror.
“Next time I’m driving,” he growls.
The Hummer is right on our bumper. John is hanging half way out the back. “Um…John…you might want to get inside.” The road to the bridge is backed up and I have no choice but to take the access road leading down to the retaining wall. Jake pulls John in as the Jeep takes flight, flying downward until we hit the bottom. It only backed them off a little. I swerve the Jeep toward the sloped wall, sending both of them to the left side. I drive up the wall and the Hummer follows. Up ahead I can see where the wall ends abruptly. I speed up and wait until the last minute, pulling the steering wheel to the left directly down toward the water.
Miles’ vehicle can’t recover in time. It flies off the retaining wall into a fence before landing in the water. “Brooklyn, watch out!” John yells. I turn the vehicle sharply, sending us on two wheels. We barely miss going into the river. Gravity pulls the Jeep back down onto all four tires with a heavy thud.
“I’m so sorry. I was so busy watching what happened to Miles, I forgot to turn.” John climbs over the seat and plants a kiss on my cheek.
“You did awesome, baby.” Jake is in the back seat hooting and hollering.
“That was amazing!” he yells. He reaches over and kisses the back of my head.
“Don’t get too excited,” John says, pointing up on the bridge. “There are cops headed our way. Pull over and let me drive.”
I stop and he gets out. I slide over into the passenger side and buckle up. He takes off, driving us back up on the main road. Flashing lights are headed in our direction and gaining fast. John weaves in and out between cars across six lanes of traffic, pushing the speedometer up to 120mph. A brief gap appears in traffic and he jerks the wheel, careening our vehicle from the far left lane into the far right lane. The sound of screeching tires fills the air as cars behind us slam on their brakes to avoid collision. Several of them crash into each other, scattering glass and metal across the highway. A semi swerves around us, brakes squealing and smoking, close enough to take off our side mirror. We hit the off-ramp at full speed and struggle to stay in control around the tight radius, but manage to wrestle the car to safety. Several of the vehicles that piled up have formed a smoking barrier in front of the ramp, preventing the cops from following us.
“We’re going to need to take another route to keep us off the highway for now. Pull up a map on your phone,” he says.
I lay my head on his shoulder. “Do you think we lost him for good?”
“I don’t know. He has to know we’re headed for DC, but I don’t know how he keeps finding us.”
I rub my hand across his chest, weaving my hand inside his shirt. I can’t keep from touching him. I want to know that he is real. My fingers touch the star-shaped scar on his chest, feeling the lump of the bullet underneath.
“I know how he’s doing it.” I pick my head up and look at him.
“How?”
“It wasn’t the bracelet that was the tracker, it’s the bullet. You said it had some type of nanotechnology. That has to be it. We need to get it out of you.”
Chapter Twelve
John
“Get off the freeway!” Brook yells.
I swerve over just in time to take the next exit. As soon as the Jeep is in park, I pull my shirt off and examine the puckered scar. I run my fingers across it, applying a little pressure, and I can feel the knot of something inside me. I never thought much of it before, but I think Brook’s right. It’s the only thing that makes any sense.
We’re outside of a small town, surrounded by small farmsteads, grazing livestock, and fields. In front of us, at the end of the main road, is a small grocery store, gas station, and a veterinarian clinic.
“I’ll pull in there.” I point at the small brick veterinarian’s office up the road a ways and put the Jeep back in drive.
I pull into the parking lot and shut off the car. “Now what?” Jake asks as I grab some cash out of my bag.
“Stay here and keep a lookout. Don’t let anyone inside.” I jump out of the Jeep with Brooklyn on my heels.
“Do you really think they are just going to cut that thing out of you?”
“I bet they will with a gun to their head,” I whisper as I swing open the door and allow her to walk in ahead of me.
A sweet looking elderly lady with graying hair is sitting behind the front counter. “Can I help you?” She stands from her chair.
“Yes, I need to see the doctor.”
“He’s in with a patient right now. Is there something I can do for you?” I watch as her eyes drink me in.
“No, I have a sick dog and was needing to ask some questions.”
Just then a man in a white coat walks into the waiting room with a Great Dane and its owner. “I think he’ll be just fine as long as we can keep him on a diet,” the doctor says, shaking the owner’s hand.
I wait for the dog and owner to leave before I turn to the doctor. “Excuse me, sir. Would you mind giving me a minute of your time?”
He turns to face me, confusion written on his face. He looks at my shirtless chest and answers, “Sure, what can I do for you?” His voice is brimming with questions, but he manages to be patient with me.
I look around at the lady behind the desk. “Can we speak in private?”
The older man shrugs and leads me down a hallway and into his office.
“What can I do for you, young man?” He sits down behind his desk.
I take the seat across from him and point at the star-shaped scar. “There is something inside of me, and I need you to get it out.”
The man throws his head back laughing. “Son, I can assure you, there is nothing inside of you. And even if there were, I’m a vet. I work on animals, not humans.”
I lean in. “Well, here’s the thing. I was shot two years ago with a bullet that surrounds a tracking device. I need it taken out. That’s not something you can go to the hospital for.”
The old man scoffs. “No such technology even exists. I suggest you get off the marijuana, son.” He stands and moves to open the door.
I stand quickly and pull the gun out of the back of my waistband. “Humor me.”
He freezes mid-step and holds his hands up. “Do you even know how to use that weapon you’re holding in your hand?”
“I know more than you would think,” I say without moving.
He runs his hand through his white hair. “Alright. Let’s go to an exam room.”
I motion with the gun for him to walk. He opens the door and turns down the hallway. I look back at Brooklyn in the waiting room. She’s leaning over the counter, talking to the older lady, trying to keep her busy so she doesn’t stumble upon something she can’t un-see.
“Have a seat on the table,” he tells me as he moves around the room, gathering things he needs.
I sit on the cold metal table and watch as he wheels over a cart and uncovers the instruments.
“Normally, I’d like to do an x-ray, but I feel like we don’t have the time for that.”
“You’re right there. I need this out as fast as possible before whoever is tracking me down finds me again.”
“This is just a local anesthetic.” He picks up a needle and inject
s the clear solution near the scar. “Are you in some sort of trouble, son?”
“You can say that. I have some very bad people after me and my family.”
He puts the syringe down and rubs his fingers over the scar. I see his expression change from annoyed to intrigued. “I think you’re right. I can feel something under your skin. How long has it been here?”
“Two years,” I answer.
He shakes his head and lets out a whistle. “Two years? It’s going to be wrapped up in scar tissue. That anesthetic I gave you may not cover it. I may need to put you out.”
“No way. I can handle the pain, trust me.”
He shrugs. “It’s up to you. Are you ready?”
I nod.
He places the scalpel against my skin and slices in a downward motion. I feel nothing but the warm blood that is running over my chest and soaking into the band of my jeans. He grabs the tweezers and sticks them in the hole in my chest.
His eyes go wide and his eyebrows raise when he gets ahold of the bullet.
“I can feel it. But it’s wrapped up in tissue. I’ll have to cut it out.”
“Do what you have to do, Doc.”
“Lie back,” he tells me while picking up another instrument which I have never seen before.
I lie back and look up at the lights. Before I know it, I’m hit with a blinding pain and the smell of my flesh burning. I grab the edges of the table while stifling back a scream.
“Almost got it,” he says, grabbing the tweezers.
The shot he gave me does nothing. I can feel him digging around inside my chest while the stench of my skin burning washes over me. A second later, I hear the clank of the bullet hitting the table.
“Almost done now. I just have to finish cauterizing and stitch you up. How about since you’re here already, you let me take a look at that hand of yours? It looks pretty swollen.”
“Thanks, but no thanks. I’ve spent too much time here already.”
Within twenty minutes of walking in the door, the bullet is out and I’m cleaned up. He hands me the bullet, wrapped tightly in gauze. I take it out and inspect the blood-stained bullet. It’s the same one that was missing from the case I found.
I hold out my hand to shake. “Thank you. I’m sorry for aiming the gun at you, I just really needed this thing out of me.”
He nods. “Please leave and take that thing with you.”
I laugh. “I will. You’ll never see me again,” I promise him.
I walk back out into the waiting room and find Brooklyn petting a cat that’s sitting on the counter. “Are you ready?” she asks.
“Yes, let’s go.”
We both walk out to the Jeep and climb inside. “Did he get it out?” Jake asks as he starts the Jeep.
I pull the gauze from my pocket and show them the bullet.
“Why are you still carrying it around? They’re still tracking us.” Jake’s voice is laced with concern.
“I couldn’t leave it there,” I tell him. “He would have had that poor old man killed for helping me. I’ll get rid of it soon.”
Within an hour, we’re on a bridge that stretches over a creek. I roll my window down and throw it as hard as I can into the water, hoping it gets carried off in the opposite direction of where we’re going.
We’ve been in the car for several hours now, and sitting in this position for so long has my chest sore. Anytime I pick up my arm to turn up the radio, reach for my drink, or just try to turn and look at Brooklyn, a pain shoots through my chest.
Finally, Brook sits up. “Here, take one of these.”
I take the bottle from her hand and study it. “What is this?”
“It’s pain medication. I stole it from the clinic while you were back getting that bullet removed. I figured you would need it and knew that he wouldn’t give it to you since it’s technically for animals.”
I read over the bottle. One pill per every twenty pounds. I try and count in my head how many I will need to take, but the pain is getting to be unbearable. I give up on my pathetic math skills and pour out fifteen tiny pills. They are small, round pills that are brown in color.
“They’re even beef-flavored,” Brooklyn says from the backseat. I can hear the amusement in her voice.
“I do love a good steak,” I say before throwing them into my mouth and chasing it with a drink of water.
They both look at my scrunched-up nose. “That does not taste like beef.” They both laugh while I reach under my seat and pull out the bottle of bourbon I picked up from the gas station. I unscrew the cap and pour some into my mouth, gargling with it in hopes of getting the taste of the pills out of my mouth.
“Do you really think it’s a good idea to chase pain killers with alcohol?” Brooklyn asks.
I shake the bottle at her. “They’re not that strong. They are for little bitty dogs.” I roll my eyes.
“Let me see that.” She motions for the bottle. I hand it over and she reads over the label. “How many of these did you take?”
“Fifteen,” I answer.
“John, do you realize you should have taken nine? Ten at the most?”
I look over to see Jake staring at me, wide eyed.
“I’m sorry! I can’t think straight when I’m in this much pain.” I rub the lines that are forming on my forehead as I lean back, trying to get comfortable.
Brooklyn smacks me across the back of the head. “You’re such an idiot. Why didn’t you ask me how many to take?”
I glance back at her. “Why didn’t you tell me how many to take?”
“Alright, guys. It’ll be okay,” Jake interrupts. “We’ll just have to keep an eye on him, that’s all.”
Brooklyn crosses her arms over her chest and leans back. I turn and face the front. My chest feels like someone reached into it and squeezed everything inside.
Jake looks at us both before saying, “How about we stop and get some food? You probably need something in your stomach with all that pain medication.”
“That sounds perfect. I’m starving,” Brooklyn perks up from the backseat.
I grow more and more tired as we drive towards town, undoubtedly due to the pain pills taking effect but the moment I sit down in the chair at the restaurant, everything kicks in full force.
My head spins and my blood feels like it’s pumping faster. Every light I look at has a bright haze around it. My vision blurs behind my heavy eyelids, but I’m in a great mood. Everything is beautiful and happy.
I feel someone watching me. I look over to see my brother squinting and flexing his jaw.
“Hi, Jake! It’s good seeing you. Where have you been?” I ask.
He looks at a drop-dead-sexy redhead and back at me. “What are you talking about? I’ve been with you the whole time.”
“’What am I talking about?’ What are you talking about? I haven’t seen you since you left for college. Who’s this?” I nod toward the beautiful girl. “Is she your girlfriend, the sexy little freshmen that you were talking about schooling in love making?” I laugh.
The girl rubs her temples as I lean forward. “What’s your name?”
She smiles as her eyes flash back and forth between Jake and I. “Brooklyn.”
“That’s such a pretty name. I’m Mark.” I hold my hand across the table to shake.
She laughs and shakes her head. “No, you’re John.”
“Wow, that does sound familiar. But who’s Mark?”
Jake places his hand on my shoulder and I turn to look at him.
“Are you okay, buddy?”
Suddenly, I’ve forgotten what we were even talking about. “Yeah, I just have to take a piss,” I say, pushing my chair back.
“Shh, stop yelling,” the redhead says.
I look around and every eye is on me. I grin. “They think I’m sexy, that’s why they’re staring.”
She shakes her head as Jake slaps me on the back. “Come on, buddy. I’ll walk you to the bathroom. We need to wash our hands before we eat
anyway.”
“Alright.” I stand, feeling a little dizzy. Thankfully, Jake keeps his arm around my shoulders, leading me away.
We walk past the buffet and something catches my eye. It’s a chocolate fountain. The brown liquid is pouring over the edges, and it looks delicious. I have to taste it. I shrug free from Jake’s arm and run toward the chocolate, never taking my eyes off it. I lean down and stick my tongue under the flowing chocolate, lapping it up. It’s thick, and warm and creamy, better tasting than I could have imagined.
“Excuse me, sir. You can’t do that.” I’m pushed away from the flowing goodness. I try wiping the chocolate from my chin.
Jake is back at my side. “I’m sorry, he’s a little under the weather, if you know what I mean. I’ll pay for the entire fountain.”
I stop paying attention to their boring conversation and turn back to the buffet. It’s lined with delicious food. Who just leaves all this food lying here? I grab the big spoon that’s in the mashed potatoes and take a big bite. It’s hot and thick.
I open my mouth and let the burning potatoes fall off my tongue and back into the container. The chocolate I just ate is covering the fluffy, white potatoes like a thick gravy. I shake off the disgust, grabbing a piece of chicken off the bar. I take a bite and walk around eating it while looking over the other selections. When my eyes land on freshly-cut steak, I throw the drumstick over my shoulder and make my way toward the perfectly grilled piece of meat. It’s glistening from the overhead lights, calling my name.
Just as I’m about to reach out and take it from the lady holding the plate, I’m pulled back. “Time to go,” Jake says, tugging me toward the door.
“Wait, I’m hungry!” I yell as I try turning back for the food. I see the redhead get up and chase after us.
“Jake, I’m totally going to bang your girlfriend.”
“She’s not my girlfriend, you idiot. She’s yours.”
I turn around, no longer worried about the food. “She’s mine?” I laugh. “I’m totally going to bang her then.”
Jake shoves me into the car and takes his place behind the wheel. “Five-hundred dollars!” He looks at me in anger.