by Jonas Saul
***
A loud crack in the air told Sarah that a gun had been fired.
A high pitched scream followed. Was that male or female?
She stopped running. Her breath came out in waves. She stood trying to get her breathing under control.
Someone was probably calling the police by now. But could she trust the police? Gert's boss worked with the police? Her priority had to be her mother. Somehow contact her mother. Her thoughts started running into themselves.
She decided she had to see what was going on.
She saved people. That's who Sarah was now. Without that, she was better off dead.
***
Gert walked towards the attendant, his gun extended in front of him. People were running for cover. A car squealed out of the station parking lot behind him.
When he got close to the kid he saw what looked like a flesh wound on the calf muscle of his right leg. He noticed the kid's name tag said Steve.
"Where is she?"
Steve lay there with both hands on his wounded leg. Small rivers of blood seeped through his fingers. He responded with only grunts and groans.
Gert got down on his knees and pulled the kid's face close to his. He pressed the gun to the underside of the Steve's jaw line.
"I won't ask again. Where is she?"
Steve's eyes rolled in his head as he fainted. Gert let go of him and stood up.
No sign of Sarah.
He'd lost her again.
Someone was yelling inside the restaurant.
Gert gritted his teeth. He raised the gun in the air and fired.
"SARAH! Come out, come out, wherever you are. How many people have to die for you?"
***
Sarah ducked at the sound of gunfire. She was close enough to hear Gert hollering.
She peeked through branches and saw Gert standing halfway between the van and the restaurant. The gas guy was on the ground.
He wasn't moving. She saw blood pooling below his waist.
This can't be happening.
Not again.
She let go of the branch and looked down at her hairless forearms. The Sarah of fearless rescues was in over her head.
She could never let Gert have her again. She had no idea what to do next.
Was this what absolute hopelessness felt like, she asked herself.
She leaned sideways against a small tree. Her body was reacting to the stress in ways she wasn't familiar with; ragged breath, weakness in her stomach and legs, and a heart which seemed out of rhythm.
She had nothing in her stomach to throw up, but it felt like something was coming.
She sat in the dead leaf covered ground, dropped her face into her hands and lost the last bit of control she had. Sarah broke down with a deep feeling of despair.
***
Gert raised his gun and fired through one of the front windows of the restaurant.
He was careful to aim at the top of the main window. He didn't want to be known as a mass murderer. His brother would be proud with his restraint.
How could he leave her untied and alone in the van? That was a huge mistake. He was getting sloppy. The boss hated mistakes.
"That's another one dead," he yelled.
He fired into the roof of the restaurant. "And yet another one bites the dust. How many people have to be shot for your freedom, Sarah?"
Gert heard running footsteps behind him.
He pivoted around and saw Sarah making a break for the highway. As she hit the shoulder of the road she lost her balance and tumbled forward.
Gert watched as she rolled directly in front of a large oil tanker.
The truck swerved.
Its horn blared as the driver got his vehicle back under control. Brake lights came on. The oil tanker was stopping, pulling over.
Gert dropped the gun to his side.
Looks like Sarah wants to get run over.
He started walking to the highway. This ought to be amusing.
***
Sarah's right shoulder screamed. When she lost her footing and fell, the gravel dug in. It was a mass of black gravel and red with blood.
She scanned the road both ways. Only two cars were coming; one from either direction.
She looked back at the gas station and saw Gert walking towards her.
Never again, she thought as she got up and put one foot in front of the other.
She touched the tender area of her shoulder. Her hand came away with blood on it. Why wasn't Gert trying to shoot her? Maybe he thought she threw herself in front of the truck.
Gert was getting closer to the highway's shoulder.
A large black car approached. The vehicle wasn't slowing down. In her delirious condition Sarah guessed the driver thought she was a hitch-hiker.
She stepped into the middle of the highway. She closed her eyes tight; not just because the sun was in her face but also because of the pain. Her shoulder felt aflame now. It felt like the pebbles imbedded in her flesh were digging deeper.
She could hear the car slowing fast. Gert still hadn't fired.
"Are you okay?"
It wasn't Gert's voice. She opened her eyes and used her left hand to ward off the sun.
"Help me. Please take me to a hospital. They've tortured me...pulled my hair out."
"What? Hold on."
The car stopped. A large black man opened the door and stepped out.
"What's your name?"
***
Gert couldn't believe it. Some guy had stopped his car and was talking to her.
He couldn't allow a stranger to take Sarah away. He broke into a run.
"Hey!" Gert shouted.
The tall black guy turned and looked at him. Gert saw Sarah throw herself into the backseat. From fifty yards away he could hear Sarah yelling for the guy to get in and drive.
She was completely inside someone else's car now.
He raised his gun and fired. The bullet missed the guy. A hole formed beside him in the window of the open driver's door. That was enough to get the guy moving.
He fired again as the driver slammed his door shut. Gert was close enough now to see the guy's hand pull the transmission down. The car lurched forward, away from Gert and the gas station.
It took Gert precious seconds to get back to the van.
By the time he'd started it and got turned toward the highway, the black car was gone.
Chapter 50
Sarah scrambled around and got into a crouched position careful to avoid her shoulder touching anything. She took a quick look out the back window. No sign of the black van in pursuit.
"What was with that guy? Why would he shoot at us?"
Sarah could detect a slight southern accent. She turned around and looked at the driver's eyes in the rearview mirror.
"You okay, girl?" he asked.
"He kidnapped me a few days ago. Please, just get me to a phone, then leave."
"Is that the guy they're searching for? A manhunt the newspapers called it."
Sarah nodded. The driver started mumbling to himself.
"Don't worry. You won't be mixed up in this if you just get me to a phone and take off."
"But he killed a cop and apparently two members of a crime family out of New York. This morning's paper said armed and dangerous."
The driver kept darting his eyes between the road ahead and his mirrors.
Sarah turned around. Still no sign of the van. She looked at the back of the driver's head. "He'll be coming after me. He won't let me get away. You need to go faster."
She looked down at her shoulder. The scattered dirt and small pebbles were easily brushed off. The bleeding was minimal, but it hurt like a bitch.
Asphalt raced by under the car, open empty fields by the windows. This would never be over until she was home and Gert was either locked up or dead.
Every mile counted. They crested a rise and saw a small town coming up. The edge of town came quick. The driver swung into a small convenience sto
re on the right.
"You're safe now. This is where you get out. They'll let you use their phone inside," the driver said.
She mumbled thanks as she stepped from the car. He stayed in the parking lot and watched her until she got into the store.
An Asian man was standing behind the counter.
"I need to use a phone," Sarah said.
She saw his smile fade and then die. He was staring at her, taking in her appearance. She knew she probably looked like she just came out of an explosion in the sewer system.
"Please, where's your phone?"
The door swung open behind her. It was the driver who brought her here. "The black van is coming."
The driver turned around and flipped the interior thumb lock on the front door. Sarah could hear the Asian man behind the counter protesting.
"Get away from the windows," the driver told her. "You too," he said to the clerk.
A vehicle pulled into the parking lot out front. She could hear it sliding to a stop on the gravel. With the driver behind her she ran for the back of the store. On the way she grabbed a handful of Twinkies and a Red Bull from a corner display.
The first door she came to opened into a stock room. They stepped through it. The driver stood by the door leaving it ajar as Sarah walked to the back loading area and quietly got it unlocked without opening it. By this time she had stuffed one full Twinkie in her mouth. It tasted like a gourmet meal.
A gun went off, followed by shattered glass. The driver shut the door he was peeking through and ran for Sarah.
"Open it, open it," he said.
She pushed down on the bar and yanked open the door. A loud buzzer sounded. They'd set off an alarm. Gert would know she was leaving through the back door and be on them in no time.
Back in the sunlight there was no time for indecision. A dumpster sat twenty feet away on her left, open space on the right.
The driver grabbed her arm. He was clearly panicking. She saw his eyes darting back and forth. Which way to go? Already precious seconds were lost.
The driver freaked and started running. He headed for the open field behind the store.
"No, he'll see you," she called after him.
Sarah bolted for the dumpster. She grabbed the open lid and swung it shut with a loud bang. Then she turned and ran around the building.
She hoped Gert would waste precious time talking to an empty dumpster thinking she or the driver was in it.
Scrunching herself against the wall of the building she brushed sweat from her eyes as she looked around the corner. Two vehicles sat out front; the black van and the car that brought her here.
She couldn't believe her luck. The car was idling. She started eating another Twinkie and popped open the Red Bull.
With Gert in the back of the building looking for her, she could hear a police siren in the distance. The store owner must have hit a buzzer or called them.
She didn't trust the cops even more.
One of them was Gert's boss.
It was now or never.
She pushed away from her hiding place and ran for the car, heart beating in harmony with the pounding of her feet. Her second wind had kicked in. She hadn't felt this alive in days. The Twinkies were at work. The tables had turned. She was back in charge, being proactive, saving someone.
Saving herself.
The vehicle was an automatic. She dropped the transmission into drive and hit the gas pedal. In seconds Sarah was on the highway, wind caressing her face through the open driver's side window as she finished the Red Bull. She tried to keep the car steady but wasn't too successful, narrowly missing a station wagon going the other way.
She had almost no experience behind the wheel yet she carefully maneuvered her way into the little town.
No bullets pursued her.
Chapter 51
Gert had had enough. He heard a siren in the distance. It was time to go. He held his gun up and opened the top of the garbage dumpster.
It was empty.
"Fuck," he said to himself.
He did a complete turn looking all around. Nothing but open field. Maybe he missed them in the store after all. He rushed back in. A quick but thorough search told him the store was completely empty. Even the clerk had bolted.
He heard the siren. It was coming closer.
"Fuck, shit," he swore again.
He'd lost Sarah. The cops were coming. He wasn't going to die in a stupid convenience store on the side of the highway.
He ran for the van. When he got in and started it up, he noticed the car was gone. The guy who picked Sarah up in front of the gas station had left. She was probably with him. They'd be at the police station in no time, giving a description of him and the vehicle he was in.
It was over.
Sarah had finally gotten away.
That bitch.
Gert pounded the steering wheel as he did a U-turn and raced up the highway the way he'd come. He knew he'd pass the gas station again, but no one ever expected the bad guy to come back to the scene of the crime. Besides, it was better than driving into the small town behind him and possibly getting trapped by some local cops.
After less than a minute, before he lost the convenience store from sight in his rearview mirror, he saw a lone cruiser pull into its parking lot, lights blazing.
Minutes later he drove past the gas station. Police cars were already there, with cops standing around talking to people from the restaurant.
Someone was talking to a uniformed officer and pointing down the road the way Gert had just come from.
No one looked at him as he passed.
He had a head start. He didn't have any idea where he was going. There was no plan. His brother would know what to do, but his brother was dead.
Change vehicles. That was something he would have to do.
There was nothing left but running.
Unless he could get another hostage.
Chapter 52
Sam Johnson looked over at Dolan as they heard about the shooting at the gas station. The dispatcher was calling for all units in the area to attend.
Dolan nodded to confirm it was the guy they were looking for. The guy who had Sarah.
They would cordon off the area. The perp was as good as caught. Sam just hoped Sarah would get out of this alive.
He threw his coffee out the window and started the unmarked cruiser. They'd been discussing their next move. Obstructing justice was a serious charge. Sam didn't want to go up against the FBI, but with how close they were and what they already knew of the case, it was too late to change things now. He'd been the head of the task force for long enough to handle this.
Dolan was advising him to move on. Pack up and do something else. Tangling with this further could only spell trouble. But Sam needed closure. He needed to find out how this perp always seemed to get away. Why was he one step ahead? As Mary Bennett said, Sarah had even stopped a kidnapping in the past. So why not her own?
Then there was Dolan.
"Dolan, tell me something."
"What?"
"Why do you think this case is different?"
Sam could feel Dolan watching him as he drove.
"How do you mean different?"
"This is the first time I've seen you come up short. I mean, you didn't get us to the cabin on time. Now you know the perp is involved in the gas station fracas, but you didn't mention it beforehand. Not until it had happened."
He looked over at Dolan. He was rubbing his forehead, looking out at the passing countryside.
"I don't know. I can only speculate."
"Speculate then," Sam said.
"It might be different because I'm involved."
"What do you mean? You're always involved."
"I mean I'm physically in this cruiser and I went to the cabin. A psychic can't read their own future. If I did, I'd be able to pick the next winning lottery numbers."
Dolan's cell rang. Sam watched for the exit to take him east on interst
ate 29 while Dolan mumbled into his phone where he was going.
When he flipped it shut Sam looked over. "Who was that? You told the caller about the gas station."
"That was my assistant at the fair. It's closed down now for two weeks until we get to the next city and set up. He has nothing to do so I told him we'd be at the gas station crime scene so he could come and get me. It sounds like this is coming to an end soon anyway. Alex has a certain talent himself. Since he's not directly involved or helping on this case, maybe he'll have some information for you."
Sam could detect a little sarcasm in Dolan's voice. He wasn't sure if it was intentional or not.
"If you're saying your physical presence might stop you from being psychic, maybe you'll have more information yourself since you won't be directly involved anymore."
"Just drive Sam. We've worked together too long to fight.
Chapter 53
He had to change vehicles or dump this one and hold up somewhere safe.
His cell battery had died hours ago. He couldn't call the boss for help. Hands-on cash was running low. Using a debit card or credit card right now would alert anyone looking for him.
He reminded himself at this precise moment, not all cops would know Sarah isn't with him anymore. At least for the next hour or so they might not shoot on sight.
Chance favors the prepared mind. Most people just call it luck. Gert saw his luck up ahead in the form of a BMW SUV stopped at a railway crossing. The train was moving slow arcing over the two-lane highway. If he was quick there'd be enough time to do what he needed. He had a new plan that would be better than taking a hostage.
He pulled up behind the SUV. Then, with a quick foot, he shot the van forward and slammed the brake hard. It was a perfect hit; just enough to bump the BMW SUV, but not enough to leave a broken bumper or worse.
The driver was getting out at the same time Gert did. A lone female, long brown hair, mid-forties, unsteady on high heels.
"What happened? You couldn't see I was stopped?" she asked. The woman bent to inspect the damage.
"I'm sorry. My foot slipped. I went to tap the brake but hit the accelerator instead."