A hot shower washed away the remnants of her dream. The last salty trace of tears went down the drain with the suds from her head. Why had she been weeping? She let the water run until she began to feel her fingers prune up. She could absorb water again! Finally her neck unkinked itself.
Last minute odds and ends took longer than they should have. There was no reason to hurry. Wendy wouldn’t be ready for another hour or so. She made rice balls for the ride, just like her mom used to do: sticky rice wrapped in seaweed with something sweet or savory in the center. She stowed her pack behind the seat and strapped the dirt bike and her camping gear securely in the bed. Wendy was waiting on her front step when she pulled up, and they were on the road before six thirty. Danny probably hadn’t even noticed her leave.
The ride to Pennsylvania took them across the state line into West Virginia, through the Monongahela National Forest, and then up Rt. 250 to Elkins. From there they turned north along Interstate 79 to Morgantown. Emily retraced her steps from last fall to Grove City, Pennsylvania and then cut across the Allegheny National Forest to Kane. She preferred back roads wherever possible, especially roads through the many forests on their route. It was uneventful for the most part, but Emily’s eyes never stopped moving the whole way. She also had other precautions in mind.
“Are you sure you can drive a stick?” Emily asked, while they were still in the George Washington National Forest.
“Yeah, sure. How else could I help you with the driving?”
“Why don’t you take over now and show me.”
“What is this, some kind of test?”
“I just need to be sure you can handle a hairy situation if we run into one.”
Emily put her through her paces. Sudden starts and stops. Drifting through hard turns. Skidding to a stop and then popping the clutch back into gear. Wendy stalled out a few times, but eventually began to get the hang of it.
“Okay, you can stop yelling at me now. Because this is really kinda cool. Do you drive like this often?”
“Not if I don’t have to.”
They got to Kane in the late afternoon, just in time to meet the funeral director and collect Emily’s father. He occupied a canister about twelve inches high and five inches in diameter. It was a little unnerving to see how small we become in death. The canister was sealed on the side with clear tape. Emily stowed it snugly under the passenger seat. She also removed the license plates from the truck and the dirtbike. Wendy didn’t ask why.
There was only one restaurant in town, a diner across the street. Emily parked in front and they had a leisurely, though uninspiring meal: a club sandwich and a cobb salad.
“Do we have time for dessert? ‘Cause there’s pie. Or do we have to run?” Wendy asked, half teasing.
“I’d like to be on the road before dark, you know, so we can see if we’re being followed.”
“Jeez, traveling with you is like being on the lam, honey.”
“I’m sorry about that, Wendy. But I think we really need to be cautious here.”
“Okay. So where are we staying tonight?”
“About that…”
“No. Don’t tell me. We’re gonna drive all night.”
“I really don’t want to stay in the motel where my dad died, okay?”
“But we can stay somewhere, right?”
“Well, I was thinking we could pitch a tent in one of the parks on the way,” Emily offered, fully expecting a rebuff.
Wendy did a deadpan simulation of an incredulous look, but finally relented with a goofy smile. Emily got two pieces of pie to go.
They ended up pulling off into a state game preserve south of Ridgway. Almost a mile off the road, watching the mirrors the whole way, they finally pitched the tent under some trees, and spread dry leaves and twigs all around. The dirtbike found a hiding place some distance away, behind a large rock.
Wendy got the sleeping bags from the back of the truck and was about to put them in the tent when Emily caught her wrist.
“What, now we can’t use sleeping bags?”
“We’re sleeping up there,” Emily replied, motioning to a copse about thirty yards away.
“You’re joking, right.”
“Fine, you sleep in the tent if you want, but I’ll be over there.”
The copse enclosed a large, low lying juniper and a couple of deciduous shrubs. There was just enough room under the juniper to conceal two people on a bed of leaves, bits of bark and pine needles. The girls laid out the sleeping bags and sat down.
“You know, the tent would have kept the snakes and raccoons off us in our sleep.”
“Yeah, but I’m more worried about the bears.”
“Oh, thanks a lot for that, Em.”
“Just humor me, okay?”
They whiled away the next hour or so in conversation before Wendy finally dozed off. Emily mainly wanted to talk about what was happening to Danny and Billy.
“It does seem a little odd.”
“Marty and Jeff are acting pretty weird. What do you think it means?”
“Personally, I think someone is putting them up to it,” Wendy offered.
“Like who?”
“Like Amanda. Who do you think?”
“So it’s really about me, then?”
“Yeah, that’s right. Everything’s about you.”
“Okay, I deserved that,” Emily admitted. “But she does have it in for me. What did I ever do to her?”
“I think you just are,” Wendy offered, and then tried to change the subject. “Has Danny spoken to you about… anything lately?”
“About Marty and Jeff, you mean?”
“No. About, you know, other stuff.”
“What are you getting at, Wendy?”
“Billy asked me to the prom. Look at what an empty headed fool I’ve become. Last year I was all about death, and now here I am gushing over the prom.”
A dim recognition gradually spread across Emily’s face. She wasn’t generally very astute when it came to social niceties. And she definitely had not been keeping track of Billy’s comings and goings. There was just a tiny bit of satisfaction in her current realization.
“Ah, that’s why he’s been mooning about lately.”
“So he hasn’t asked you yet?”
“He wanted to come on this trip so we could talk. He wanted me to ditch you.”
“What are you gonna say when he finally asks you?”
“Oh, I don’t even know if I should go at all.”
“Chicken.”
“Fine. It’s not like I’d go with anyone else.”
Judging from her facial contortions, this last concession obviously cost her a great deal. She had never given any thought to proms or boyfriends before. She liked the idea of going to a dance. But she definitely didn’t want a boyfriend. She also didn’t want Danny to misunderstand her. Just being his friend anymore was beginning to look like it might be impossible. This was an irritating thought.
“Wendy, do I have to go to the stupid prom?”
“You’ll be the only one who isn’t.”
“What, Wayne’s going too? With who?”
“Melanie, of course. Who else is tall enough?”
They both laughed. Wayne was enormous, after all, at least six and a half feet tall. Maybe it was a little bit cruel, but each of them relished the idea of watching those two dance together.
Emily had lots to think about after Wendy dozed off. She tried to keep her eyes focused on the tent, which was just visible through the juniper branches. But in the end she drifted off once or twice in the course of the night. The next morning everything was as it should be. They packed up the tent and the rest of the gear, rolled the dirtbike up into the back of the truck. With everything secured, Wendy eased the truck into gear and they made their way back to the paved road.
-back to top-
Chapter 9
A Routine Traffic Stop
Wendy was feeling quite pleased with herself. It was her turn
to drive. She’d broken the ice with Emily about the prom and, most importantly, told her about Danny’s intentions. Her response wasn’t exactly what she’d been hoping for. But at least it was a start.
On her side, Emily was also relieved. Danny’s behavior began to make sense to her. There was still the dilemma of what to tell him. If she said yes, he might think they were a couple and she didn’t really want that. If she said no, he would definitely take it as a rejection, and she didn’t want that either. She liked the undefined shape of their relationship just the way it was. Boys—beneath all the bravado, the showy toughness, they turn out to be absurdly delicate creatures.
They were driving along Rt. 949, a winding two lane road that cuts through farmland and heavily forested areas. As they were coasting along a lonely stretch of the south bank of Halton Spring Creek, flashing lights and a short siren burst signaled them to pull over. In the passenger side mirror, Emily saw a Clearfield County Sheriff’s Deputy getting out of his patrol car. She also noticed two men in dark suits and dark glasses, who remained in the car.
“I’m sorry, Em. Did I screw up?”
“No, Wendy. You were doing just fine. Do you know the way home from here?”
“Follow this road to the 80 west, and then south on the 79, right?”
“You may have to go the rest of the way without me. Can you do that?”
Wendy’s lower lip trembled and her eyes teared up as she nodded her head.
“What’s happening, Em,” she asked, in a shaky voice.
“Nothing yet. Let’s just keep our heads.”
The deputy leaned over to peer in the driver’s side window, through dark aviator sunglasses. He looked the girls over for a brief moment, then turned back to the men in his car for what seemed to be some sort of indication.
“I’m going to need you to step out of the car, Miss,” he said, speaking across Wendy.
“Okay,” Emily replied in a firm voice. Then she whispered “Wendy, as soon as I get out, drive out of here as fast as you can. Look for a place a few miles up to hide the truck and wait for me. Nod if you understand.”
Wendy nodded, clearly shaken by these instructions. The deputy cleared his throat.
“Deputy Crawford, is it?” said Emily, reading his nametag. “We all know this is a bogus stop.”
“Wait,” Wendy said. “How do we know it’s bogus?”
“Because he hasn’t asked for any papers, and he hasn’t said anything about the license plates.”
The deputy looked a little chagrined, but said nothing.
“Who are the suits in your patrol car?”
“Miss, step out of the car,” he said more firmly, moving his hand to his holster.
“Careful, Deputy Crawford. If you take that gun out those men will shoot you dead. They want me unharmed,” Emily said decisively. He looked like he’d been frozen by her words. “Do you even know who they are? I imagine they claim to be Federal agents. But I bet they felt somehow wrong to you.”
This last remark definitely struck a chord with him. He took off his glasses to look directly into her face.
“If you take me into custody, I guarantee you will be dead by the end of the day, and so will my friend here, and I’ll be blamed for it.”
He was clearly shaken by her words, as was Wendy, but neither of them could manage to speak.
“Do you have a family? Any kids?”
“A boy, six years old,” he said, finally.
“If you want to see him again, keep him safe, walk over to those trees and hide.”
“I can’t do that, Miss.”
“If I’m wrong about those guys you’ll see it soon enough from over there, and no harm done. Do it for your boy,” she said sharply.
He nodded, obviously growing more alarmed by the second, and began to move.
“Are the keys in your car?”
He nodded again, then broke into a run for the trees. Emily saw a commotion in the car behind her as the two men rushed to get out, not a little upset by what they were seeing. She opened her door and turned to Wendy before stepping out.
“Three miles up, find a hiding place off the road and wait twenty minutes for me. After that, go home. Now get out of here!”
Emily slammed the door. Wendy sped off as she walked calmly back to the patrol car.
~~~~~~~
The deputy took up a position a few yards deep in the forest behind a large maple tree. From where he stood he could see the entire scene clearly, though it was a bit of a strain to hear what anyone said. Both men were out of the car, staring intently at the girl and just a little puzzled. She wasn’t trying to escape. The other girl had driven off unexpectedly. If she’s right, they’ll hunt her down later, the deputy thought.
One of the men, the older of the two, concealed something in one hand while he pointed his gun at her with the other. A glint from whatever he was holding against his hip caught Crawford’s eye, something metallic, pointy, maybe some sort of syringe. The other man had his gun out and was scanning the tree line. The older man snarled a low command to his partner, who immediately moved cautiously toward the trees. The girl was right. He was a target, too. There was definitely something wrong about these guys.
She stopped a few feet in front of the car and stared blankly at the man in the suit.
“Now be a good girl and come over here,” he said in an avuncular tone.
She ignored him and held her ground. With gun extended, his left hand still casually, but carefully concealed at his side, he stepped cautiously toward her.
“You’re not going to give me any trouble now, are you,” he said, in the professionally modulated tones Crawford recognized from his own training.
She smiled insouciantly as he brought the gun barrel within a few inches of her chest. What was she doing? Why didn’t she run, or at least resist?
“We both know if you shoot me, you’re a dead man,” she said loudly.
Deputy Crawford’s breathing quickened. The older agent clearly didn’t like having his bluff called. He swung his hand around toward her shoulder, pointy metal glint now clearly visible. Before he could stick her with whatever it was, she kicked him hard in the knee, swatted his gun hand across his chest and flicked her right foot up to the side of his head.
It all happened a little too quickly for Crawford to be sure of what he was seeing. When it was over, one thing was clear: a large, muscular man lay motionless on the pavement at the feet of this girl. Her foot must have hit the side of his head really hard! She crouched next to him, maybe checking to see if she had killed him. No, he was breathing. She stuck him in the neck with his own needle.
By this time his partner, having realized what just happened, was running back across the verge toward her. He shouted for her to get down on the ground and pointed his gun directly at her. Again she ignored her adversary. Questioning the man on the ground seemed to occupy all of her attention. He came up behind her, close enough to touch the back of her ear with his gun.
“Down on the ground,” he yelled.
Instead she stood up slowly. He moved the gun as if to hit her in the head with a backhand swipe of the barrel. Before he could bring his arm back around, she spun into a block, grabbed his wrist and struck the back of his elbow hard with the palm of her other hand. His gun flew out of his hand as he screamed in pain. Crawford thought she had snapped the elbow, and threw up a little into his mouth. Before the man could move, she spun again into a low kick to his left ankle that upended him. He lay on his back, whimpering. She leaned over him and looked into his eyes for a long moment as Deputy Crawford ran out of the forest towards her.
“Stay down if you know what’s good for you,” she snarled at the man on the ground.
“What the hell just happened? Who are these guys?” Crawford asked, still flushed with nervous energy.
She led him a few feet away and spoke in a quiet, urgent voice.
“The less you know about them, the better it’ll be for you.”
>
“But what did they want with you?”
He realized right away he didn’t really want to know this either. He had a better question: “What do we do now?”
“If the idea was to blame me for your death, as a personal favor to me, try not to get yourself killed.”
“What should I do?” he asked the teenage girl, who seemed so composed in this bewildering moment.
“Go home. Pack up your wife and son. Get out of town, out of state even, for a few days until things die down. Call in sick. Whatever you do, don’t go back to work today.”
“What should we do with them?”
“Nothing. Tie ‘em up maybe. Do you have any zip ties?”
He went to the back of his unit to rummage in the trunk.
~~~~~~~
Emily went back to the younger man and knelt next to him as he lay on the ground. Watching her approach, he couldn’t keep from cringing. He tried not to look into her face.
“Your partner’s not dead. I just stuck him with his own needle. Who sent you?” she demanded.
He looked away, more frightened than defiant.
“I don’t really care. I can guess it was Meacham. If you’re part of his new team, you should ask what happened to the last one.”
He turned toward her and tried to meet her gaze. But he had nothing to say.
“You guys were gonna trade me like a piece of meat to advance your careers. I should end you now,” she snarled, and he shuddered. “You think about that before you come after me again.”
She stared long and hard into his eyes. He flinched at what he saw there. There was a profound generosity, even sympathy. He was still alive, after all. But there was something else, too. Ferocity on a scale he’d never thought possible before. The depth of the fury in her eyes threatened to swallow him up.
The deputy returned with several plastic zip ties, which they used to truss them up. She emptied their pockets and scattered the contents out into the woods.
Girl Punches Out Page 7