by Kyra Dune
It took a minute for me to catch my breath, and once I had I started to laugh. Not because it was funny, but because my nerves were strung a lot tighter than I had realized. With a shaking hand, I reached over and turned the volume down. Then I thought I would try to change the channel without touching anything. I concentrated too hard to begin with and so nothing happened but right when I was about to give it up, the station changed.
I let out a giddy little whoop. Using my power over the air, I tuned the radio to my favorite pop channel and settled back with a grin. It looked like I was getting the hang of things after all. I know Alice said to be careful, but I could see no harm in what I was doing. I figured, what was the point in a having a power if you never used it?
I don’t know when the black Mustang started following me. All I know is, it was right behind me when I exited the highway and entered town. Unsure of what else to do, I accelerated the Mercedes, pushing the needle on the speedometer well over the speed limit in the vague hope of attracting police attention.
Every couple of seconds, I would look in the rearview mirror to see if the car was still there. It always was. I figure it was this constant distraction which kept me from seeing the Nissan until I plowed into it.
My head hit the steering wheel so hard I saw spots; my teeth clamped down on my tongue, filling my mouth with the coppery taste of blood. I’m sure the car must have had an airbag but, for whatever reason, it failed to deploy.
Someone yanked my door open, leaned over me to unfasten my seatbelt, then pulled me out of the car. I leaned groggily against the arms holding me up, my brain too fuzzy to even consider I
might need to fight. My head was pounding, my tongue was throbbing, and I kind of felt like throwing up.
I was pushed into the passenger side of the Mustang. By the time my thoughts had cleared enough for me to realize I might be in trouble, we were already pulling away from the scene of the wreck.
“Wait.” I pressed my hand to my forehead and felt a sticky trickle of blood. Things were coming back into focus, but slowly. “Who are you? Where are you taking me?”
“Someplace safe.”
I turned my head toward his voice. He was maybe a few years older than Zack, with dark blonde hair cut short. Then I realized who he must be and a bolt of fear went through me. “Derek?”
He glanced over at me. “Whatever Zack told you about me, it isn’t true.”
“Stop the car.” I laid my hand on the door handle as if I really intended to jump out of a car going fifty miles an hour down the road. “Let me out.”
“I can’t.” He stared steadfastly through the windshield. “It’s not safe for you here. I have to get you out of town.”
I thought of the busted windows in Trudy’s house and the scorch mark across the wall. My stomach squirmed. “Look, I really appreciate everybody’s concern for my safety, but I don’t want to go anywhere with you.”
“Why?” he asked. “Because Zack told you I’m the enemy? How do you know he wasn’t lying?”
“Because he didn’t chase me into having a car accident and then kidnap me. In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m bleeding over here.”
“It’s not my fault you were looking back at me instead of watching where you were going.” Derek glanced over at me again. “There’s some napkins in the glove compartment.” He pulled out onto the highway and accelerated the Mustang to eighty.
“Let me out right now or I swear I’ll...I’ll...” I searched my mind to think of a threat I might actually be capable of carrying out. “I’ll roll the window down and start screaming as loud as I can.”
“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said, as if he were totally unconcerned with idea of me screaming out the window. “I’m not dangerous.”
“Yeah, right, tell it to my friend. You know, the one whose house you practically torched.” I jabbed the glove compartment door open, then grabbed a handful of napkins and pressed them to my head. “You could have killed her.”
“It was Zack’s fault.” Derek changed lanes. “He started it. I was only acting in self defense.”
“What do you want with me?”
“Nothing but to keep you safe.”
So everybody kept saying, only no one seemed willing to explain what it was they were keeping me safe from.
“Does your head hurt?” Derek asked.
“Of course it does.” I lifted the napkins, which were spotted with my blood. “Cracking your skull open tends to be painful.”
He made a face. “You’re barely even bleeding.”
“Easy for you to say,” I muttered. “You’re not the one who feels like their head is about to
split in two.”
“There’s a bottle of aspirin in the glove compartment and some sodas in a sack in the back to wash it down with.”
I looked through the messy compartment until I found a half-empty blue bottle. I eyed it warily. “How do I know this is really aspirin and not some kind of drug to knock me out with?”
He shrugged. “If you’re so worried about it, keep your headache.”
I took a moment to carefully consider the matter. Then I opened the bottle and shook a couple of small, white pills into my hand. What? Why are you making a face? He already had me in the car, it’s not like I was going anywhere anyway. Besides, if my headache had gotten any worse, I might have wanted to be knocked out.
The bag of sodas was in the floorboard behind Derek’s seat. I floated a can up to my waiting hand, then glanced at Derek. But either he hadn’t seen or he wasn’t impressed because he made no comment. I suppose a guy who could shoot fire out of his hands wouldn’t be impressed by much.
I popped the pills into my mouth and washed them down with a drink of warm soda. “Are you going to tell me what it is you’re supposedly protecting me from?”
“I can’t say.”
“You can’t say, or you won’t? There is a difference.”
He didn’t answer.
“You do realize the second you stop this car I’m going to jump out, run to the first person I see, and tell them you kidnapped me, don’t you?”
“You don’t want to do that.” He sounded serious but not threatening.
“Why not?”
“I can’t say.”
“Of course you can’t.” I took another sip of my soda. “You don’t make a very convincing argument, you know. Why should I trust you if you won’t tell me anything?”
He reached for his pocket, hesitated, then went ahead and pulled out his wallet and handed it to me. “Look inside. At the picture.”
I had no idea what he was trying to prove, but I took the wallet and opened it anyway. There, in a plastic sleeve, was a pleasant family picture. A man and a woman, a boy and a girl, and a chocolate colored Labrador puppy with a backdrop of green trees and blue sky.
“So?” I asked. “Is this supposed to mean something to me?”
“Look at the kids. Look close.”
I was doubtful, but I went ahead and gave the picture another, closer look. The boy was around six or seven, the girl maybe two. Something familiar about the girl made me frown and draw the picture closer. I gasped. The little girl was me. Now, I know what you’re thinking, you’re wondering how I could possibly know the girl was me. People change a lot between the ages of two and sixteen. But though my parents didn’t have any baby pictures of me, they had plenty of pictures of me from two on up and this girl was me. I knew it. And the boy was Derek.
My gaze strayed to the smiling adults. “Are these my...my birth parents?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“Why are you in this picture with us?” I’m not stupid, okay, I knew the answer to the question before I asked it. But I needed to hear him say it out loud to make it real in my head.
“Because I’m your brother. Half-brother, anyway. We have the same mom.”
I didn’t know how to respond to that. Sure, I had about a million questions to ask him, but I couldn’t seem to find a way to
voice any of them. I didn’t know the people in the picture, they weren’t real to me. But they were real to Derek and how could I ask him all the hard questions I needed answered when those answers would probably hurt him? I couldn’t.
So we sat in silence and I tried to think how I might go about finding out more from Derek without opening old wounds. I reached for my purse, thinking to check the time on my phone, only to realize I didn’t have my purse. It was back in town in a wrecked Mercedes.
I suddenly had a flash of the police calling my parents and describing the scene to them. What would they think? Nothing good, that’s for sure. “Do you have a cell phone?”
Derek frowned. “Yeah. Why?”
“I need to call my parents.” I held my hand out.
“Right. I give you my phone and you call in the cavalry. Do I have stupid written across my forehead?”
“I won’t call for help, I promise. But the police are going to tell them about finding my purse in a wrecked car and I don’t want them freaking out. Okay?”
His expression remained dubious as he hand me a slim, black phone. “Only your parents.”
“Thanks.” I took the phone and dialed in my home number. And my hands only shook a little as I did so.
“What are you going to tell them?” he asked.
“A lie.” I listened to the dial tone, wondering if it was going to be any easier to lie to my mother over the phone than it was to do so face to face. In our last phone conversation I didn’t really lie, if you recall, I only hedged around the truth a little. This time I was going to have to really commit myself and not only make up a good story, but convince her it was the truth. No easy thing.
“Hello?” Mom’s voice affected me more than I expected it to. My chest got tight and my eyes burned. I wanted to start crying. I wanted to tell her I was in trouble. I wanted to go home. But I couldn’t do any of those things and keeping my composure so she wouldn’t know anything was wrong was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do.
“Hi, mom. It’s me.” I let just enough of my upset show through to fit with the lie I was about to tell her.
“Abigail? Honey, what’s wrong?” she asked. “Why aren’t you calling on your phone? I almost didn’t answer when I didn’t know the number.”
“Somebody stole my purse.” I stared out the window as I talked. “I know you’ve told me a million times not to leave it lying around in public places but I guess you should have said it a million and one. I swear I only sat it down for like two seconds while I helped Brandy pick out a blouse, but when I turned around it was gone. I’m really sorry.”
“Oh, Abby, your credit card and everything was in your purse. What were you and Brandy doing shopping anyway? I thought you were at The Oasis.”
At the risk of being repetitive and annoying, I’d like to say once more I was not an experienced liar, so to find these lies coming so easily from my mouth was unsettling. “Curtis and Trudy were geeking out about some lame science fiction movie, so Brandy and I decided to come back into town for a bit.”
“Why aren’t you calling from Brandy’s phone?”
Now do you see why I don’t like lying? Too many questions and mom could be almost as bad
about it as Brandy was. I pinched the bridge of my nose between my fingers. “Brandy left her cell at the house. She knows a girl who works here at the store, so I’m borrowing hers.”
“Did you report the theft to the police?”
“Not yet.” If I didn’t get off the phone soon I was going to fall apart. “I wanted to let you know first, in case you tried to call me and got no answer. I didn’t want you to worry.”
“Thank you, sweetheart. I appreciate the concern, but call the police next, okay?”
“I will, mom. Um, Brandy’s friend needs her phone back. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Okay. Love you. Bye.”
“Love you too. Bye.” I ended the call and closed my eyes, pressing the phone to my forehead. A few stray tears rolled down my cheeks.
“Hey, now, it’s okay.” Derek’s voice was rough in its attempt to be consoling. “There’s no reason to cry.”
“Easy for you to say.” I dropped his phone into the cup holder in the center console. “You aren’t the one being kidnapped.”
He winced. “I wish you wouldn’t keep calling this a kidnapping.”
“Why?” I wiped my hand across my eyes. “Even if you really are who you claim to be, even if you’re trying to protect me from something I don’t understand, you’re still taking me somewhere I don’t want to go against my will. I’m pretty sure that’s the definition of kidnapping.”
“You’re in danger here.”
I slammed my fist down on the armrest. “Stop saying that! I’m sick to death of hearing it. What is it I’m supposed to be afraid of anyway? Zack wanted me to think it was you, but he almost slipped, he almost said something else, enough to tell me he was hiding the truth. So what is the truth? What’s going on?”
He shook his head. “It’s a lot to explain. This isn’t the time or the place to get into it. Better for you if we wait.”
I thought to tell him I was a better judge of what was better for me than he was, but I was way too close to really bursting out into tears and not a chance I was going to do that in front of some guy I just met, brother or not. Instead, I turned my head and stared out at the desert again.
CHAPTER EIGHT
“Aren’t we ever going to stop for a break?” I asked.
“The sooner we get where we’re going, the better.”
I started to ask him exactly where that was, then decided I didn’t care because I wasn’t going. One way or the other, I was determined to get away from him. “I don’t know about you, but I have basic human needs which have to be met. I’m hungry, I want something to drink besides lukewarm soda, and I have to go to the bathroom.”
Derek made a face. “All right. I’ll pull off at the next truck stop and you can get something to eat.”
True to his word, Derek pulled off the highway at the first truck stop we came to. There were no other buildings in sight. After Derek parked, I pretended to be having a problem with my seatbelt so he would have to get out of the car first. Why? So I could grab his phone out of the cup holder and slip it into my pocket. I only hoped he wouldn’t notice he was missing it until I had a chance to call for help.
Inside, an older guy in faded denim was browsing the CD selection of the convince store/gift shop and another in a dusty ball cap was seated at the counter of a diner which looked as if it had come straight off the set of some movie set in the fifties. The bathroom and laundry area was straight ahead and I started in that direction as soon as we came through the door.
Derek grabbed my arm. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“I told you I had to go to the bathroom.” I jerked free of his grip. “Don’t freak out, it’s not like I’m going to crawl out a window or something.”
For a moment I thought he either wasn’t going to let me go, or he was going to insist on coming with me. Either way, my meager plans for escape would be ruined. Finally, he nodded. “Yeah, okay. But be quick about it and don’t try anything stupid. You’ll only put yourself in danger. I’ll get us a booth.”
I went on the bathroom. Once there, I locked myself in a stall and started to call Brandy only to have my mind blank on the number. Who needs to remember numbers anymore when you can keep them stored right inside your phone?
“Come on, come on.” I stared at the phone as if maybe the number would magically appear by the sheer force of my will. Which, considering all that had been going on, wouldn’t really have surprised me.
The number did not magically appear on the phone, but I did manage to remember it, much to my relief. Now, if she would only answer. It took five rings, but she did. “Hello?”
“Hey, Brandy, it’s Abby, I--”
“Where are you?” her voice shrilled in my ear. “I’ve been going out of my mind eve
r since your mother called to tell you your ‘stolen’ purse was found in a wrecked Mercedes. What happened? Why did you wait so long to call? You’re lucky I was too stunned to say anything at first so I had time to figure out what your mother was talking about before I blew your lie. Then she wanted to talk to you and I had to tell her you were in the bathroom. Again. And I can’t keep holding your crazy new friends off, I’m going to have to tell them something soon. So where are you?”
“Um...” I looked around the green walls of the stall, where several obscene phrases had been
scratched. “Actually, I am in the bathroom. I’m also in trouble and I need your help.”
Brandy sighed. “You’ve been saying that far too often of late.”
“I know.”
“So what is it this time?”
“The accident wasn’t my fault,” I said. “The guy who blew out Trudy’s windows caused it. And then he kidnapped me.”
“He...he what? My god, Abby, you shouldn’t be calling me, you should be calling the police.”
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
Now it was my turn to sigh as I spun the roll of toilet paper attached to the wall. “It’s complicated.”
“He made you wreck your car and kidnapped you, doesn’t sound complicated to me. So why don’t you want to call the police?”
“Well, there is a slim chance he might be my brother. He has a picture of us when we were kids with two adults he claims are my...my birth parents. And I think, maybe, I might believe him.”
“Are you sure it’s a picture of you?”
“I’m sure. Look, I don’t know what all is going on or even who to trust, but I do know if we bring the police in on this things are going to get real complicated, real fast. So promise me you won’t call them.”
I could imagine the kind of face Brandy must be making at that moment and her voice matched the image in my mind perfectly. “Fine.” She sounded as if she had forced the word through gritted teeth. “But you called, so you must want me to do something.”
“Tell Zack what happened and send him to find me. I don’t know exactly where I am except it’s a truck stop by itself just off the highway. We only drove for a couple of hours, so we aren’t far, but Brandy, tell him to hurry.”