Both doors of the sedan opened, and both Mr. Cain and Mr. Skye got out of the car and started to walk quickly towards Jake and Miranda.
"Miranda, get down!" Jake threw the car into reverse and ducked down himself, driving blindly backwards several yards until he felt he was a safe enough distance away to look for a place to turn the car around. Amid the noise of the squealing tires on the pavement, Jake was sure he could hear the sound of what might have been gunfire, but there was no glass breakage from the windows, and it hadn't sounded like anything had struck the car. He looked up, and saw the two men getting back into the sedan, so he turned the wheel sharply to the left and spun the car around 180 degrees. Shifting back into drive, Jake hit the gas and headed back into the direction that they had originally come from.
"Where are we going to go, Jake?" asked Miranda, keeping her eyes behind her to watch for the sedan, which had already started back in behind them, and was catching up fast. Jake thought for a moment, and turned back onto the road that he lived on. The sedan followed suit, and Jake went on past his house by another half-mile before making a sharp left onto a two-track road heading into the woods.
Jake had to slow down when he first entered the two-track, which allowed some time for the sedan to catch up even more. He accelerated to around 45 mph, which was a fairly high speed on the rough and narrow road for a car like Miranda's. These roads were an access point to the state trail system that was used by everyone from nature hikers to snowmobilers and ORV enthusiasts. But they were also used for years and years by local youths as a place to go and party out of the watchful eyes of their parents and the local cops. They were a place that Jake and Miranda knew all too well.
Jake took a fork to the right and followed the road to another split at a "T" where he made a left hand turn, but still the sedan kept close on the trail. Suddenly the car shifted a little when the tires hit a patch of mud that remained from the hard rains that fell a few days earlier while Miranda was still up north. The jolt gave Jake an idea.
The next turn-off to the right was about 75 yards up the road, and Jake followed it.
"Miranda, hold on tight!" he said. Miranda looked at him, and then looked ahead and realized where they were heading. She braced herself as best as she could. The road ahead began to rise on an incline, and Jake increased their speed cautiously. A little distance had formed between them and their pursuers, which Jake felt would help give them the edge they would need.
As soon as they were at the top of the hill, Jake held as tight as he could to the right shoulder, pressing the gas to gain as much speed as possible for the next 60 feet ahead. The car jarred and bounced violently as they hugged the edge of the trail close to the scrub pines on the right side of the Vibe. They powered through, veering to the immediate left so that the men in the sedan following behind could see the direction that they were going as they made the rise up the hill. But unlike Jake and Miranda, instead of the cautious right hug to the shoulder, they aimed their vehicle straight on ahead up the hill.
By the time the pursuers reached the top of the hill, it was too late to do anything but brace themselves as they slammed into the giant mud bog that always settled in that spot after a hard rain.
The area was nearly impassible in the few months after the winter's snow melted, but this time of year it only took a few inches of rain to get bad enough to make it difficult to pass through. The mud and the clay mixture made for good sport for trucks and ORV's to go tearing through, but after they had had their fun, the condition of that section of the road was that much worse. Jake and Miranda missed the heart of the pit by hugging the right side of the hill, but there was not a chance in hell the sedan was moving any further.
The Vibe stopped a safe distance away for Jake and Miranda to make sure the pursuit was over. From that distance, they saw the two men in the car getting out to look at the sticky situation they had found themselves in. Jake hit the accelerator and left the men behind, taking the shortest route back to the main roads.
Jake and Miranda drove together in silence until they reached the first dirt road off of the trails. Jake turned the wheel to head back towards town.
"Jake...wait," said Miranda. "We need to talk."
Jake pulled the car to the side of the road and turned off the engine.
"Miri, we should get to the police station. You should call Detective Rice and tell him what is going on. Those guys are going to have to call someone to get them out of there, and the police should be right out there with them when the tow truck shows up," Jake told her.
"Jake. Do you trust me?" asked Miranda.
Jake looked astonished that she would ask him such a thing.
"Of course I trust you. How can you even ask me that?"
"We can't go back to the police," she said.
"What are you talking about? Those guys might be the ones that are responsible for what happened to your family...they may have been trying to hurt you as well! We could have killed ourselves trying to get away from them. This is out of our league, Miranda," Jake told her, turning the ignition of the car. Miranda opened the door and got out of the car before he could start to pull away. Jake shut the engine back off, and got out of the car.
"What are you doing? Help me understand why we can't go to the police," demanded Jake.
"I can't expect you to believe everything that I have been going through the last several days. I am not sure what to believe myself. But some things are becoming more and more clear to me. You are right, Jake. There may be some things that are beyond us, but I have no doubt they are beyond what the police can do for us now too. If you really trust me, then you need to let me do what I need to do. You don't have to come with me. But I have to go and see someone to find out what it is these people are after. I am scared to death that everyone close to me will remain in danger unless I find out who these people are and what they want from me. I've already lost my family. I don't think I could take losing anyone else. I just don't know what I would do...do you understand? I don't believe the police can help us, Jake. You need to let me go and do this, and you need to take off somewhere for a few days, maybe longer, until I get this sorted out. I can't bear you getting hurt because of me," Miranda pleaded to him.
Jake turned around and paced back and forth as Miranda stood by and watched. He could not help but to shake his head in disbelief at what she was asking. Finally, he turned to her.
"I don't know what is really going on here, and I think you need to help me understand...but I do trust you, Miri. Even though I think what you are doing doesn't make sense, I trust you. But there is no way in hell I am going to let you do this alone. No argument. No pleading. If you try to cut me out of this, I'll have no choice but to tell the cops everything, for your sake. I am going with you, and that is final. Understood?"
Miranda looked at him for several seconds, and then to the ground for a moment.
"Okay. I suppose your terms are acceptable," she told him, secretly feeling a bit of relief that he could be so hard headed at times. Any other time in the past, it would have just angered her. But she knew, deep down, that she was scared of what lies ahead. She felt safer with Jake by her side.
Jake nodded and turned to walk back to the car. He got into the driver’s seat once more. Miranda followed him to the car and got back into the passenger side door.
Jake looked to Miranda as she shut her door "So, captain," Jake asked with skeptical reluctance, "What is our heading?"
"South. We are going to Detroit," Miranda directed.
CHAPTER 10
Mr. Cain and Mr. Skye stood silently in the parking lot of the Native Springs Auto Repair Center as the company's tow truck hauled the sedan into the garage. Neither looked at the other for several minutes; they had no words for the situation they were faced with. A medium built man with long, dirty brown hair and dark framed heavy glasses wearing a grey company cap and uniform walked up to the two men holding a clipboard.
"Well, the front axle is
broken and it looks like the frame might be bent as well," said the man with the clipboard in hand. "Car like that isn't the best to be two-tracking in. You musta hit that clay pit pretty fast!"
Mr. Skye looked to his side and down at the man's face, whose expression changed to a blank and fearful stare with Skye's icy gaze upon him. Mr. Cain felt it was at that point a good time to interject before the situation turned ugly.
"The car is a rental vehicle. The rental information is in the glove compartment," said Mr. Cain, reaching into his inside jacket pocket to retrieve a brown leather wallet. He removed a pair of one hundred dollar bills, folded them, and extended his hand in the direction of the man. The man instinctively reached forward to take the bills; Mr. Cain drew back his hand. The man froze for a moment with his arm half extended.
"I trust you can take care of any paperwork and arrangements that need to be handled between the company that I work for and the rental agency to make sure whatever needs to happen with this vehicle is taken care of without any further assistance from us?" said Mr. Cain, in a tone that suggested he was stating a fact rather than asking a question. The man picked up on that fact, and nodded his head as Cain put the folded bills in the man's hand.
"Tha...that shouldn't be a problem, sir," said the man.
"We would like to retrieve our personal items from the car. Would you take my associate to the car so he may do that? I need to make a telephone call."
Mr. Skye looked at Mr. Cain as he said this, and the man with the clipboard swallowed hard as he looked at Mr. Skye.
"Yeah...sure," said the man, looking to Mr. Skye now, who looked back to him. "Right this way."
The man started to walk back towards the garage, glancing over his shoulder to make sure Mr. Skye was following. Mr. Skye nodded him on.
"I will be right there," said Mr. Skye in his cold tone. The man hurried on ahead, and Mr. Skye looked to Mr. Cain.
"What are you going to tell him?" asked Mr. Skye.
"The truth," said Mr. Cain. "If I were to tell him anything else, and he found out...it wouldn't be good for either of us."
Mr. Cain reached into his left jacket pocket and removed the GPS tracking device that had been attached to Miranda's car. When the two men got out of the sedan trapped in the mud and clay, the tracking software in the phone indicated it was in the vicinity. A quick search found it in the area of the shoulder where the Vibe hit several hard bumps avoiding the clay that abruptly ended the pursuit by the two men.
"Maybe you should send a text?" asked Mr. Skye, for the first time showing a sign of concern in his face. Mr. Cain looked at Skye for a moment, and then nodded in agreement.
"Go and get our luggage. I will handle this," said Mr. Cain. Mr. Skye turned and walked to the garage as Mr. Cain pulled out his phone.
TO: ENOCH
We ran into some difficulty.
TO: CAIN
Difficulty?
TO: ENOCH
We lost the girl.
Several seconds went by before a response came. To even a hardened and deliberate man like Mr. Cain, this was unnerving.
TO: CAIN
What of the tracking device?
TO: ENOCH
It is in our possession.
Another long pause came before the message chime rang once more.
TO: CAIN
This is not ideal. There is another option however. Get to the airport in Pellston. I will have a flight plan arranged for you. We need to get ahead of her. Her resources are limited. I will send additional instructions.
Mr. Skye approached with the bags from the car. He stood a few feet from Mr. Cain, waiting for whatever might be coming.
"Go back and find our short and dirty little friend in the garage. Have him call us a taxi service. We have a new itinerary."
Miranda stood in the entryway to the large room in the once beautiful home. A slight breeze blew through, causing a chill that brought goose bumps to her bare arms. Everything was dark and grey, burned and water damaged, and the smell of smoke was still lingering in the air. Besides the sound of her foot steps on the wooden floor, there was silence. The sudden squawk of a large crow that landed on the sill of a high broken window startled her.
Far to her left, the sudden eruption of flames in the old stone fireplace shook her again, but it did not pique her feelings of apprehension as much as the silhouette of the two figures seated on the floor in front of the fireplace.
She took one step after another, slow and cautious, towards the two figures, despite the feeling of dread she felt with every step. She then recognized the figure to the left. The white suit, now soiled with soot and dirt, and that long, blonde hair. To the man's right was the little girl, playing with blocks in front of the blazing fire in her pretty blue and white dress. Both sat with their legs crossed upon the floor. Miranda smiled to herself as she watched the little girl, happily playing, trying to put together the blocks as if she was spelling a word. Miranda saw a "C", and an "F", put together, while others were scattered about on the floor in front of the girl.
Then the voice came, like a low and silent whisper echoed through a long metal pipe.
"I AM NOT YOUR ENEMY, MIRANDA. YOU NEED NOT FEAR ME."
Miranda stepped back suddenly at the sound of the voice. The man never turned his face from the fire in front of him, but as Miranda stepped back, the little girl turned her face to Miranda's and their eyes met in a silent gaze. The little girl, Miranda now knew, was herself. But her eyes...the whites were as white as a fresh snowfall, brilliant and vivid. All else was blackness, as if there were no iris, just one large black pupil surrounded by the blinding whiteness.
Miranda felt a rush of fear through her entire body, and shuddered with a gasp that brought her to the attention that she was in the car, stopped in a parking lot, alone. She looked around her, but Jake was nowhere to be found. She was at a busy gas station, and there were cars and people filling those cars with fuel all around her. She felt a wave of anxiety come over her as she looked frantically around for something familiar. Her breath became shortened, as her fingers played at the clasp of the seat belt trying to release it.
The driver’s side door opened, and Miranda let out a short scream. Jake dropped the bag he carried onto the floor of the front seat and put his arms out to Miranda's shoulders.
"Miranda...it's alright. I'm here. It's okay...it's okay," Jake said, steadying her as he drew her closer to him. He held her there for a moment, as the tears flooded her eyes again. A man from a nearby car approached upon hearing the scream from their car.
"Is everything alright here?" asked the large man, wearing khakis and a light blue Polo style shirt.
"She's fine...she just had a nightmare. She's alright," said Jake, looking up at the towering man. The man looked at Miranda and spoke directly to her.
"You sure you are alright?" he asked her. Jake felt a little put off, but understood why the man was asking. Miranda pulled gently away from Jake and nodded her head to the man, wiping the tears from her eyes.
"Yes...thank you," she said, followed by a little snort. "I'll be fine...it was only a bad dream."
The man looked at her and nodded, and went back about his business. Jake picked up the bag from the floor and pulled a turkey and provolone sandwich and a bottled water from the bag and handed them to Miranda.
"What the hell happened? Are you sure you are all right?" he asked her, finally allowing his real concern to come to the surface.
"Yeah...I'm okay. Where are we?" she asked, trying to change the subject.
"About 20 minutes past Flint. That's why the traffic is so heavy now," said Jake.
"What time is it?"
"It’s past 10. The university offices are probably already closed. If this professor only takes meetings by appointment, you might not even be able to get a hold of him until tomorrow. I think we should find someplace to stay for the night. It has been a very long day, and I think we both need some rest. We can go the rest of the way early
in the morning, get to the university, and try and find this guy."
"If it's after 10...have I been asleep for the past two and a half hours?"
"Yeah. But sleeping in a car isn't like getting a good night’s sleep in a bed. After what you've been through - what we've been through today - you’re not only physically tired, but mentally and emotionally as well."
"We should just go there and wait for him...I know he's going to be there..."
"Miranda, please. Will you just please listen to me. You're not thinking straight. We need to stop, eat and rest. Both of us."
"Alright, alright. But promise me we will leave early."
"I promise you. Up, eat, and on the road."
Miranda started to eat her sandwich, and realized once again the hunger within her. Jake pulled a bag of pretzels out of the grocery bag, and opened it for the two of them.
"There's one more thing before we find a hotel. Let me see your phone?" he asked.
Miranda looked curiously at him, and pulled her phone from her jacket pocket and handed it to him. He pulled two packaged pay-as-you-go phones from the brown grocery bag as well.
"We need to get rid of our phones," Jake said, flipping her phone over and removing the battery.
"Why?" asked Miranda, sounding confused. Jake saw the look in her eyes, and realized how paranoid he might be coming across to her.
"Listen...we have no idea what is really going on. The only thing I do know is that these guys that are after you...they are very dangerous people. And with people that dangerous, they probably have good resources and know what they are doing. Just...bear with me here. I don't know if they can somehow track our cell phones. Every one of these have GPS chips in them these days. I'm not willing to take that chance. Not with your safety."
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