Capture

by Melissa Darnell

  Tarah and I shared a look. Great. I wasn’t old enough, and everyone else was on the run from the law. The whole group probably was on the FBI’s Most Wanted list by now. If the bus owner ran any of their IDs, we would all be toast.

  “Anyone any good at making fake IDs and a good disguise to age me up some?” I was only half joking.

  Pamela nodded. “Steve could pull off some spells like that.”

  After a long pause, he nodded. “Not for long, though. And I’d have to go with you or else they would wear off.”

  “Let’s try it,” Tarah said.

  I didn’t like any plan that involved Steve and his anger management issues. But what else could we do? I nodded.

  Pamela reached down to squeeze Steve’s shoulder. He climbed up on the end of the truck to give her a quick kiss. Then he turned to his daughter. “Daddy’s gotta go rent us a bus, sugarplum. I’ll be back in a little bit, though. Okay?”

  The girl’s lower lip and chin trembled.

  Jumping back down from the truck’s bumper, Steve peeled off the badly fitting military shirt and matching stolen pants from over his regular t-shirt and jeans.

  “I’ve got a spare jacket in my truck,” I offered. I would have already given it to Tarah instead, but she still had her thick, quilted coat that she’d been wearing during the meeting in the woods.

  “Thanks,” Steve said, his tone clipped.

  I turned back to Tarah. “See you in a few. If police show up, or anybody else who’s acting suspicious of you…”

  “I’ll get us out of here,” she said.

  I found myself wishing I'd gotten the courage to kiss her goodbye as Steve and I got into my truck. When I looked back, I caught one last glimpse of Tarah as she climbed into the back end of one of the military trucks.

  Too late now.

  I punched in the bus rental place’s address into the GPS, ready to get this over with as fast as we could. We were so close to reaching South Dakota. If we could just get there, Grandma Letty could probably help these people find somewhere more long term to hide out. And Tarah and I…well, we’d figure it all out then too. Maybe she and I could go to the west coast. I’d always wanted to see California’s beaches, maybe learn to do a little surfing in the sun. And Tarah in a bikini would be a sight worth seeing several times over.

  As I drove, my right hand began to ache. I switched hands on the wheel, flexing my cramped fingers.

  “Nervous?” Steve suddenly asked.

  I started to shake my head then shrugged instead. “Yeah, I guess so. A lot of people need this to work.”

  “I’m glad you realize that. Leading a big group of families like this would be a tough responsibility even for an adult under normal circumstances.” He leaned back in the corner against the door and stared at me.

  What was with the “even for an adult” crap? I was eighteen, not eight.

  “Yeah, well, I’m not really leading anybody here. Y’all are just following me to my grandma’s.”

  “That’s not the impression everyone else has. They all seem to think you’re some big shot master wizard here to save the day.”

  How was I supposed to control what others thought? “I never made anyone any promises.”

  “Your girlfriend did, though.”

  “Tarah’s—” I started to say she wasn’t my girlfriend then gave up explaining. “I don’t know exactly what she told you. All I know is Tarah and I are headed to South Dakota, you guys are following us, and we need a rental bus to get everyone there safely without getting caught. You know, I don’t want to go to prison any more than you do.”

  “You mean back to prison,” he said.

  “Right.”

  “Except you’ve never actually been in prison. You would never end up in a place like that, ‘cause your daddy wouldn’t allow it, would he?”

  What was with this guy? Was he determined to tick me off or what? Just because it was along the same lines as what I'd told Tarah didn't mean I liked how it sounded coming out of this guy's mouth.

  My silence only seemed to goad him on. “I guess this all seems like a big adventure to you, don’t it, rich boy?”

  I worked on breathing deep through my nose and resisting the urge to lean across the seat to punch him.

  “Fact is, if you got caught right now, all they’d do is ship you back home to your mansion on a hill. While the rest of us would get thrown right back into another interment camp and doped up out of our minds again. Or shot.”

  Finally I’d had enough. “What is your problem? I’m trying to help you and your family and everyone else’s. You’re right, I don’t have to be here, and I don’t have to try to help. But I am. So why are you giving me grief about it? You should be thanking me.”

  “Because I don’t like you and I don’t trust you. I don’t like what you stand for, what your whole family stands for, getting rich off the imprisonment and mistreatment of others who don’t have your connections or money. And most of all, I don’t want your help.”

  “Then why’d you come? You didn’t have to come with me to get the bus. You volunteered, remember?”

  “I’m only doing this to ensure you don’t screw this up. Believe me, if I could afford to rent the bus on my own, I would. The only reason you’re here and I’m not doing this on my own is ‘cause of your money.”

  “I don’t have money. My mother does. There’s a difference. Maybe I should just give you some. Then you can get your family some bus tickets—”

  “So then you can make me look even worse in front of my wife and kid? I don’t think so.”

  I took another deep breath, but it burned in my chest. “What do you want from me?”

  “I want you to stop being a kid, to realize what you’re doing here. For you to take responsibility for your decisions and your actions. I want you to grow up and see that you’re holding a whole lot of lives in your hands right now.”

  I snorted. “You think I need you to point that out to me? I already know if I don’t help you guys, you’re going to screw this up just like you almost screwed up everything with your stupid decisions at the gas station. What were you thinking, killing that cop? And then you wanted to kill the gas station attendant too? He was just some kid working the wrong shift on the wrong day. But you wouldn’t have any problem killing him anyway, would you?”

  “Not if it meant protecting my family. I’d kill a thousand cops and gas station workers if it meant keeping Pamela and Cassie safe,” he muttered, staring out the passenger side window. “Including anyone who gets in our way of renting this bus.”

  “You’re not going to kill anyone else on this trip, Steve. Not if you want to keep tagging along with our group. Every person you kill just brings more heat on the rest of us. We’ve got hours to go till we get to Sioux Falls. We don’t need even more people trying to hunt us down along the way.”

  “Oh yeah? And if I do take out someone else, what you are going to do about it? You going to try and take me down like you did those guards at that camp last night? Or how about all those people you killed last summer?” His face twisted into a sneer. “You think it’s fine for you to judge me, but you’re not so spotless yourself, are you? Or did you think only your town’s outcasts had heard about that?”

  My throat knotted, forcing me to swallow hard.

  Again I heard the shouting from that night, saw the blue and red flashes lighting up the woods, heard Damon yelling out my name for help followed by his last words. Run, Hayden!

  And then I’d lost control, my fear twisting my willpower as it exploded out of my control, killing him and everyone else and nearly myself too, the whole world turning into shades of gray and navy and black. And then it seemed like only seconds later I was waking up in the hospital…

  “You and I aren’t so different,” Steve went on, his words yanking me back to the present. “We do whatever it takes to survive. And that’s exactly what we’re going to do now. I’ll try to keep things cool as long as I can. Bu
t if it comes down to using force in order to get a bus, then that’s what I’m going to do. And I hope you’ll be smart enough to either help or stay out of my way. Understood?”

  Oh yeah, I heard him loud and clear.

  But I still wasn’t going to let him kill anyone else on this trip, no matter what it took. I had enough names and faces on my conscience to deal with when I looked in a mirror as it was. No way was I going to let him add another death onto the list.

  The GPS broke that train of thought, the female voice directing me to turn off the interstate at the next exit. I took the turn a little too fast and had to force my foot to ease up on the gas pedal. Having a wreck was the last thing we needed.

  We headed down the town’s main street in silence, the GPS’s instructions the only sound now as we took the last two turns then pulled into the bus rental company’s pitted gravel and dirt parking lot. Only one beat up old truck sat at the front of the small main building. But at least four or five buses of different types formed a hulking row behind the building under a tall, open ended metal shed, and the main building’s lights were still on.

  “All right, give me your ID,” Steve muttered after we parked near the building’s front door.

  Adrenaline pumping, I dug out my wallet from my back pocket and gave him my driver’s license. He stared at it for a moment, tilting it so the parking lot light shown down on it through the windshield. He pressed it between his hands, closed his eyes, and began to mumble something I couldn’t quite make out.

  I waited for some sort of sensation to hit me. But I didn’t feel anything at all. After a moment, he handed me the ID.

  Before I could look at it, he raised a flat hand in front of my face, his jaw set with determination, and started mumbling again. I braced myself for pain, but again I felt nothing. Was he even applying the effect yet?

  “How long till—”

  “It’s done.”

  I looked in the mirror and swore. I looked like my dad minus the gray hair and crows feet. Steve was a borderline sociopath, but I had to admit at least to myself that the guy had skills. “Can you do this to anyone?”

  “Anyone who lets me. Or has a weak will to start with.” He opened his door and got out. “Now hurry up and let’s get this done before it wears off.”

  Yeah, that made me feel real confident.

  CHAPTER 12

  A bell dinged over the door as we entered the office. The man behind the counter looked up, his eyes squinting. The fluorescent lighting was just bright enough to show white sprinkled throughout his whiskers and the few hairs combed over his head. A maze of wrinkles cut through his still partly tanned face. He looked like he should be wearing overalls and riding a tractor under a hot sun instead of working at a bus rental.

  He nodded hello, then asked, “What can I do for you?”

  I started to open my mouth, but Steve cut me off, stepping around me and up to the counter with a swagger I hadn’t noticed before. When he spoke, his strangely heavy new drawl nearly made me stare at him.

  “Well, now, we heard you maybe had a bus we could rent. It’s for our church group. We figured, seeing as how it’s nearly Christmas, we’d all get together and take a little trip up north.”

  We should have worked out our story together ahead of time. I worked to keep my face still.

  “Is that right?” He stared at Steve, then me, then Steve again, squinting so hard I couldn’t see his eyes beneath the bunched up skin anymore. “You say you’re headed up north? Whereabouts?”

  “South Dakota. We’ve got a sister church up there we’re wanting to visit.”

  I worked not to flinch. Steve was taking a risk telling this guy even that much. What if the feds somehow traced our path to this man and asked him what we’d said?

  “Huh.” He rubbed a gnarled and weathered hand over his gut in thought. “You need a school bus or a charter?”

  “Charter if you’ve got one available.” Steve never missed a beat with his answers. I had to give it to him, he was good. “We’ve got a few little ones wanting to come along. So we’re hoping to keep things as comfortable for them as we can.”

  The man nodded slowly. “Yeah, I might have a charter available. When’d you need it?”

  Here was the only time Steve paused. He gave a sheepish smile and rubbed a hand over one cheek. “Well, to be real honest, we’re kind of in a bind here. See, we’re actually from out of town. We were already headed on our trip, and our church bus broke down. So we’re needing some new transportation real quick if we can find some.”

  At this, the old man frowned. “You’ve got little ones stranded out in this?” He jerked a thumb at the windows, as if a blizzard were raging outside.

  “Yes sir,” Steve replied. “So you see why we’re kind of in a hurry. I mean, I suppose we could just send everyone home and try again in a few weeks when our bus is repaired. But everyone was sure looking forward to this trip…”

  Oh man, Steve was good. Even my own mother, the queen of guilt trips, couldn’t have pulled one off as well as this.

  Just how much did Steve practice lying to people?

  The proprietor grunted. Then he looked at me again. “And who might you be?”

  “Church treasurer.” The words just rolled out of my mouth. Maybe Steve was contagious.

  “I’ve got a charter we can set you up with.” He reached under the counter and brought out a clipboard. “Treasurer, if you’re the one with the money then you’ve got to fill out this form. How long are y’all going to need it for?” He looked to Steve again for the answer while I tried to confidently step up to the counter and start filling out the form.

  “Oh, maybe a week or two? We’ve got some pretty chatty ladies in our bunch that are going to want plenty of time for visiting and picture taking and all that.”

  The old man nodded. “Yeah, I’ve got a sister-in-law the same way. Always talking and taking endless pictures for that scrapbooking stuff. Got herself a whole club of women who get together for it. Drives my brother crazy.”

  Steve grinned. “Yeah, our church ladies got a scrapbooking club of their own. Meets every Tuesday night like clockwork.”

  “Hey, you’re at least twenty-five, right?”

  It took me a second to realize the old man was talking to me. I looked up. “Yes sir.”

  “I’m going to need to make a copy of your ID for insurance purposes,” he said.

  Dutifully I pulled out my wallet, praying my hand wouldn’t shake as I handed over the hopefully still altered license.

  He held it up to the light and squinted at it for a long minute. Then he reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out some bifocals. Without putting them on or unfolding them, he held the glasses near his face and peered through them at the ID. My heart raced faster with every passing second.

  Finally, he shuffled over to an antique looking copier machine and made a copy.

  I let the air out of my lungs slow and easy through my nose and finished filling out the forms.

  He handed me back my ID, looked over the form, then said, “Now who’s your driver going to be?”

  “Uh…” I hesitated.

  “I’ve got to put down their name for the insurance,” he added. “And they’ll have to come in and we’ll need a copy of their CDL. It’s federal law.”

  I glanced at Steve, wondering how he planned to solve this one. Another driver’s license makeover spell? And if it worked, then what? Could Steve even drive a bus?

  Before Steve could answer, I jumped in. “Well, Steve here has a CDL. But it’s a pretty long drive, and it’d be nice if we could find someone else to drive us instead. You know, so Steve could relax and see the sights with everyone else. You know any qualified drivers we could maybe hire?”

  The old man’s bushy eyebrows shot up. “Well, my brother John could. But he’s an idiot, and I’m not too keen on trusting him with one of my charters that far away. Especially for a couple of weeks.”

  “I’m sure I can
handle—” Steve said.

  “What about yourself?” I said to the bus owner, ignoring the quick glare Steve shot me. His look seemed to ask whether I knew what I was doing here. Unfortunately the answer to that was no, I had no clue. I should have shut up and let him continue with the lies. But for some reason I was acting on a hunch. Tarah would probably be proud, what with all her beliefs in listening to emotions and instincts.

  Both men stared at me.

  “I was just thinking if you drove us, you could personally ensure your bus was safe at all times.”

  Silence. I could hear each of our breaths, mine a little too quick but hopefully too quiet for elderly ears to hear, Steve’s slower, more deliberate, the old man’s shallow with just a hint of a wheeze at the end.

  The bus owner rocked back on his heels and rubbed his gut beneath the silver snap buttons of his white and brown plaid shirt. “Well, now, that’s an intriguing idea. John could watch the shop, it’s the dead season anyways, ain’t nobody renting right now. And I would like to do some traveling and sight seeing.”

  “Aw, I don’t know if it’d be right, taking you away from your family right before Christmas,” Steve said, his words nice and slow. But a certain tightness around his eyes gave him away at least to me. He didn’t want a normal, as Tarah called them, joining our outcast group.

  But he could get over it. We needed someone who could actually get everyone to South Dakota safely. And legally.

  The old man’s shoulders lifted and fell. “Only folks I see Christmas Day are John and his wife. And frankly getting out and about on a working vacation would be a real treat.” He hooked his thumbs in the front pockets of his stained, worn out jeans. “After working out in the fields most of the year, spending winter all cooped up in this place gets to choking on you after awhile.”

  “Well, alright then,” I said with a smile of relief. “You mind adding on your driver’s fee to whatever we owe you, and putting it on this?” I held out Mom’s card.

  He took the card but didn’t look at it. “I haven’t said what that fee would be yet.”