by Amy Isan
"Okay." I wander back to the motorcycle and open the saddlebags and throw the bottles inside. When I look back, Logan is creeping toward the truck and attempting to pop the fuel cap, but the tent closest to Logan lights up and a zipper splits it open. I want to yell out to him, but it's too late. A man steps out and squints into the darkness.
"Who's there!" he calls out. He sounds angry and I can just barely make out his large frame.
Logan turns from the side of the truck and pulls his gun. He steps forward and puts his finger to his lips and pushes the man backward. The man falls into his tent and Logan descends on him. Now, all I can hear are forced and upset whispers. I pull out my gun from the saddlebags and start pacing back toward the tent. Before I can reach it though, Logan emerges from the tent and runs back to me. He grabs my wrist as he passes me, and he drags me back to the bike.
Logan reaches the bike and tosses some energy bars, his gun, and a smartphone into the saddlebags. The light in the tent is still on. The shadow moves and the man steps out of the tent again, and shouts for help.
"Someone! Help! I'm being robbed!" Some other tents light up and shadows move to unzip their tents. One man wearing nothing but underwear emerges from a neighbor tent wielding a shotgun.
"No time for fuel now, we have to go," Logan says. He kicks the motorcycle alive and it startles the camper, who scrambles to slip his boots on. I straddle the back of the bike and Logan swerves the bike back around, being quiet isn't a priority anymore. The bike throws up dirt and gravel and it falls back on us like rain. Logan guns the throttle to full blast and before I can blink we're gone from the campsite.
After a couple of minutes down the rocky trail, I prod Logan in the shoulder.
"What did you say to him?"
"I said we needed a phone, and if he didn't give it to me, I'd kill him."
"Seriously?"
"I wouldn't have actually killed him, Cassie." He turns over his shoulder so I can see the side of his face for a moment. "He wasn't going to call my bluff over a dumb phone. There's no service out here anyway."
"What about the fuel?"
"It'll be okay, I think. It won't last forever though, but with our current pace, I don't know how far we can really get."
It took us so long to reach the border in the first place, this huge detour certainly isn't helping. The chill of the air gets to me again and I wrap my arms around Logan, and grab my wrists. I rest my face against the nape of his neck. His warmth radiates into me.
I'm so exhausted, but I don't want to go to sleep. I need to stay awake incase he gets too tired to drive. But... how can I when he's so warm? I lock my arms around him and manage to get my feet jammed against the pedals so I can't sway from side-to-side. I close my eyes and feel the world slip away.
. . .
"Cassie." Logan's voice feels far away, but I try to reach out for it. I struggle to move, my eyes feel sealed shut. "Cassie!" he swerves the bike and it shakes me. I twitch and groan, opening my eyes. My legs and arms have gone numb, and with movement comes pain. A million needles stab me at once and I want to buckle over in pain.
We're still riding, and the sun is in the sky. I wipe my face and sweat greases my hand. Logan turns back to look down the road, and I realize we're still not on the highway. Is this another dirt path, or the same one from before? I try and stretch one arm at a time, holding Logan's shoulder to keep my balance. With my arms feeling a little better, I stick my legs out and try and shake them awake, but the movement only makes the pain worse.
"I can't believe you were sleeping like that," Logan says. I want to laugh, but the pins and needles are too painful.
"Can we stop so I can stretch?" I ask him.
He stares down at his speed and then taps his gas tank. "No, we can't. We have to get as far as we can before she kicks the bucket."
I suddenly feel a lot more awake. I shake my head and rub my eyes to free the left over sleep from my body. Logan's shoulders are hunched, and he looks exhausted. Dark rings are under his eyes, but they still look clear and eager. His body is coiled tightly though, maybe from stress and exhaustion. He's probably just as numb as me.
"How far have we gone?"
"I have no idea," he says. "I just keep heading this direction. I'm sure we're getting close to... some kind of civilization."
After grabbing his shoulder for balance, I lean backwards and open one of the saddlebags. Doing something like this would have scared the shit out of me a week ago. I feel around inside the bag and dig out a water bottle and open the cap. "Drink this," I say as I pass it over his shoulder.
He takes it eagerly and tips the bottom up. Some of the water splashes his face and dribbles down his chin, but god knows he must need it. Now that I'm awake, I'm starting to feel how hot the sun is already. He hands the water bottle back to me, crushed and empty. I toss it back into the saddlebag and close the buckle with a snap.
The motorcycle heaves and kicks forward, but Logan manages to keep it in control. The head light dims as it bucks back and forth, but Logan coaxes it to keep going. He settles her temper tantrum. "Not good," he admits. We're going slower now, the motorcycle's note deeper than it was before.
I scan the horizon and try to look for any signs of Phoenix, or any civilization. How big could Arizona really be? The undulating landscape and red rock make it almost impossible to tell. Hell, as the day drags on, I'm sure the red rocks will look like sky scrapers in the haze of the heat. I suddenly remember the cellphone we snatched from the campsite.
I open the saddlebag again and pull it out. I unlock the screen and see that the battery is half dead. 'No service' stares back at me from the screen. No service, No GPS.
"Shit," I say. "The phone still doesn't have service."
"Figures," he says. "Shut it off, we can't have it dying on us too." I power down the phone and I slip it into my pocket.
The motorcycle kicks forward and lurches again, and the lights dim. It starts to slow, and Logan curses loudly, banging his hand on the tank. "Come on!" Without any further drama, the bike shuts off and Logan brakes it to a stop. "Fuck."
I climb off the bike and stretch my legs, finally able to knead the sleep out of my joints. When I look up at him again, he's still sitting on the bike, staring at the fuel tank. He pops open the cap and peers inside, before rocking the bike back and forth and putting his ear to the hole. "Nothing, it's dry as bone. I'm surprised she made it this far," he says. He gives me a sorrowful look. Logan stands up and rummages through the saddlebags. He starts to unstrap them from the back of the bike and unload them.
"What are you doing?"
"We have to bring it," he says. He pulls out the energy bars and last three bottles of water. He hands them to me and digs through the cash. After digging for a couple of minutes, I sigh.
"We can't bring all of it. We'll have to leave it," I say. He nods slightly and grabs a handful of bundled money and slips it into his back pocket.
Logan squints at the horizon for a moment. "If I remember the landmarks..." he trails off and points out the red cliffs in the distance. He traces his finger across the sky and mutters to himself. "This way."
"Are you sure?"
"Trust me."
We're on a slight incline, and he starts hiking to the top of the slope. He waits for me at the crest and hands me an energy bar and a bottle of water. "You should eat."
"You should too," I point out. He chuckles a little. "What?"
"Bossing me around now? I let you get too comfortable," he says. I shake my head with a smile and push him, nearly knocking him over. He catches himself and laughs, which is infectious. I try and stop myself from grinning, but it's hard when he keeps going. It feels ridiculous to be laughing when our vehicle just broke down and all we have are some energy bars and water. But, actually, that only makes it funnier.
Even out in the desert, maybe stranded for dead, he can make me laugh. I unwrap the energy bar and take a bite. It's gummy, but chewing feels really good.
I pull out the phone and gesture to it. "Who will you call?"
"Two of the guys to come pick us up," he says.
"Have you done this before?"
He shakes his head and kind of smiles. "That thing has GPS right?"
"I'm pretty sure," I say, beaming at him.
"It better," he grins.
After a few more minutes of walking together, our shoulders brush together and I feel my heart race. He reaches out and grabs my hand, deftly sliding his fingers between mine. My heart melts like butter on a hot pan. I stroke his forearm and pull him near me, and we walk in sync down the dusty trail, if you could call it that anymore. My hand throbs and feels warm. I try to ignore it, but it makes me scared. I should have told him about the cut earlier, but he was so focused.
. . .
The heat rises in waves off the red earth like invisible snakes. We've been walking for miles, and for what feels like hours and hours. Our pace has slowed to a crawl, and Logan's taken off his shirt and given it to me. I've wrapped it around my head and finished all the water.
"Check the phone," he says, his voice cracking with thirst.
"I just did," I snap back at him. I can barely focus on anything, my vision going blurry from the heat and light. I grumble and fish the phone out of my pocket, and turn it back on. Its battery has slipped down under 30% and we still don't have any service. I shake my head. "Maybe the next hill. These are baby slopes, but... they feel like mountains, don't they?"
"Yeah," he grunts.
Earlier, Logan sliced open my jeans so I could roll them up and get some relief from the heat. I'm covered in a layer of sweat, but Logan's shirt-hat keeps it from dripping into my eyes. He doesn't have such a luxury. His muscles twitch under his skin, and his shoulders look burnt and red already. I wish I could do something, but if I give up his shirt, I'll probably pass out. My hand feels terrible.
I wander closer to him and hang off his shoulder. He chuckles. His skin is slick and glistening. Forget about me, he might not even make it at this rate. Our shadows are almost invisible. I glance up to see the sun is almost overhead. Shit.
"It must be over a hundred degrees," I say.
"I've had worse," he says. His breathing is so much more relaxed than mine, I'm actually jealous.
"Worse?"
"Rode through Death Valley once with a bunch of the guys from my old crew for a drug deal. We ended up having to stay an extra day longer than planned... It was definitely worse." He shields his eyes and looks at the sky. "Although right now, I can't remember how much worse." Logan looks down the trail behind us, and sighs. "I wish we didn't have to leave the bike."
"Come here," I say. I extend my hand and grasp his and pull him close. We stop for a moment and just look at each other. "We will make it out of this, we've made it out of all this other shit. The sun won't kill us now. That'd be too embarrassing."
He breaks into a smile. "You got that right, Cass," he says. He dips down and kisses me, his lips tasting salty and dry, but still so delicious. How is that possible? I'm desperate for water, but for a few brief seconds, that desperation vanishes. We break away and I see the renewed vigor in his eyes. The same iron eyes that I saw as he passed me on the highway a lifetime ago. Steeled, unnerving, determined. An outlaw's eyes.
To add to my delirium, I'm starting to wish that the border patrol would catch us right now, just so we wouldn't have to be walking through the desert like this. Any wind is brief and tantalizing. Animals skitter and scatter around the trail as we stomp down it, and a rattler makes its presence known with a few lashes of its tail. We avoid it, passing as far away from it as possible without falling into the sage.
I glance over the horizon toward the red crags, which have moved a bit behind us. With the heat waves coming off the ground, and my vision so battered, they do almost look like skyscrapers. God, if only Phoenix was that close. Within sight. We'd definitely have reception.
"It's stupid we don't," I mutter to myself. Logan glances at me, and I realize I said the last part of my thought aloud. "Have reception," I explain. "What kind of shitty state doesn't have reception in the desert? Where people can die?"
"People do die all the time," he says. "You're right."
I tighten my dry lips and try and suck some saliva from my mouth. Anything to fight off the dryness of my throat. I gather some and swallow it as hard as possible, feeling little relief. "Should've brought more water," I joke. It falls flat and he doesn't answer. I shrug it off.
"Check the phone again," he says. I unlock the screen and the No Service signal disappears for a brief second and my heart freezes. A small 1x appears on the top left of the phone's screen and I almost drop it in surprise. "We have service," I strain to say. I jog up to him and shove the phone into his hands.
"Seriously?" He takes it from me and bursts into laughter. Gut-clenching, fall on the ground laughter. He cheers and pulls up a map. It loads slowly and as it does, the battery drains quickly. It warns us that it only has 20% battery left. He clenches his hand under his elbow and tries to hold the phone up into the air. "Come on, motherfucker."
The GPS map springs into view and our location is marked. The map zooms in and shows us how close we are to Phoenix. Logan cheers. "At least I know where we are now. We can't keep walking... but now I can call for help."
It's so quiet out here, I can hear the line ringing as if the phone was up to my own ear. A man's voice picks up. "Yeah?"
"Surge, it's Bomb. I need some help."
"Bomb?" Surge sounds surprised. "What are you doing? Where are you? You're still in Mexico right?"
"Not anymore," Logan says. His eyes flit from the horizon to meet mine. "We need a ride. Bring two guys... and some water."
"We?" Surge answers with some incredulity. I don't understand why he'd be so surprised to hear from one of his club members. One of his oldest friends by Logan's definition, if I remember right. A long pause. "Alright, tell me where you are."
Logan pauses and looks at the map again. "Here are our coordinates," then he rattles off a bunch of numbers. I'm too exhausted to listen. There's a rock outcropping nearby, and I start moving towards it. Shade would be an amazing relief right now. After reaching the hanging rock, I scare away two rattlers and climb underneath into the shade. It's even better than I thought it would be.
Some grumbling on the other side of the line, but it's indistinct. Logan looks worried and he clenches his jaw and balls a fist with his free hand. "Can you help us?"
The line is silent for some time. "Okay. We'll find you. I got the coordinates." The line goes dead.
Logan stares at the phone. "He..."
"— Sounded surprised. Is that weird?"
He shrugs. "No. He's usually really relaxed. But this whole Skeletons thing might be getting to him." Logan strokes his beard and rubs his temple. "Unless... No, I can't believe that shit."
"What shit?"
"Remember what Victor said in Mexico about Surge?"
My eyes go wide. "You don't think...?"
"I don't know what to think anymore." Logan scratches his head and groans. "What if he's always been fucking with me?" He kicks the ground and a stone goes hurtling out into the sage. "Why would he do that? To what end? Just... for fun?" I haven't seen him like this before, and I'm sure the terrifyingly hot sun isn't helping.
"I don't know, Logan, but come here. Get out of the sun already."
Logan relaxes and drops his shoulders. He nods to me and exhales. "You're right." He climbs under the outcropping and joins me. He breathes a heavy sigh of relief as his forehead hits the shade and he sits down.
I peel off his shirt from my head and hand it to him. He pats himself dry with it, his shoulders looking really raw now that we're out of the direct sunlight.
My hand burns with pain, but I can't let Logan kn
ow. It'll only worry him more, and he has enough to worry about right now.
I swallow what spit I have left and my heart races. I hide my bandaged hand by forcing it under my butt. Maybe it isn't nerves, but just exhaustion setting in. I wouldn't call the sleep from last night the best I've ever had. Logan's eyes move to me, and he reels my hand out from under me and strokes it. I breathe and he kisses my hand, and rubs my skin until I relax.
"It'll be okay, Cassie." He kisses my bandaged hand again and I flush from something other than the heat. I feel so silly blushing at him kissing my hand, but it's sweeter than anything I've come to expect from him.
He lifts his eyes and looks at me. "I told you I won't let anything happen to you."
I believe it. He hasn't let me down yet.
And I won't let him down, either.
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Also by Amy Isan
Misty Highlands
Highlander's Embrace
Highlander's Kiss
Ruin Outlaws MC
Bomb (Ruin Outlaws MC #1)
Spark (Ruin Outlaws MC #2)
Iron (Ruin Outlaws MC #3)
Flame (Ruin Outlaws MC #4)