"It was just a fender bender," returned Billy.
Dave shook his head woefully, glanced at the rear-view mirror...but he didn't slow the Torino. "What if they got my license number?" he wailed. "What if the cops come after me?"
"They won't," declared Billy. "Don't sweat it, man."
Dave again looked to the mirror, but the Torino had rolled around a bend and he could no longer see the site of the wreck. "My God!" he blubbered. "I can't just do something like that and drive away!"
"Cool it!" burst Billy, and his voice was stern and inflexible. "You've got more important shit to worry about! You've got your family to worry about!"
"I know," Dave said meekly, "but..."
"Just drive!" ordered Billy. "Get to the bypass! We don't have any more time, man!"
Though he was loaded with guilt for having caused the wreck, though he worried that a police car would roar up behind him at any second, Dave kept driving. He knew that Billy was right, that he had to catch Larry, that it might very well be a matter of life and death for his mother and father and brother.
After traveling a short distance more, the Torino reached another intersection, but the line of traffic kept moving; this intersection, at least, was regulated by traffic lights, and Dave was lucky enough to get a green signal. The vehicles leading Dave and Billy smoothly flowed up to the light, then went their separate ways, some gliding left, others straight ahead...but most swung right, toward the access ramp for the bypass. The tractor trailer in front of the Torino lumbered toward the ramp, but that wasn't surprising; the bypass conducted a great deal of truck traffic, providing an unobstructed link between downtown Confluence and the main highway.
As the Torino followed the slow-moving truck, Billy stomped his feet and jabbed an index finger at the windshield. "Get around this guy!" he blurted angrily. "We stay behind him much longer, we'll never catch up with Larry."
"How'm I supposed to do that?" yelped Dave. "I've only got one lane here."
"Over there!" belted Billy, pointing to the right, indicating a gas station that they were approaching. "Just go! Zip around him!"
Glancing at the gas station, Dave saw that there was a narrow strip of pavement between the cluster of pumps and the edge of the street. He wasn't sure if the Torino could squeeze past the truck and dive back into the lane before hitting the curb and sidewalk which terminated the open strip.
"Go!" ordered Billy. "Go!"
Teeth clenched, hands clamped like lobster claws on the wheel, Dave forced down his fear and obeyed his partner's command. Nailing the accelerator, he snapped the car abruptly to the right; engine roaring, the Torino shucked off the street and flashed between the tractor trailer and the gas station. A second later, Dave raked the car back to the left, shouldered it back into the lane just before the open strip of pavement met the curb.
To Dave's surprise, he wasn't rammed by the tractor trailer. The driver of the truck let loose a long, angry blast of his horn, but the maneuver had succeeded; the Torino sailed up the on-ramp, racing unimpeded toward the bypass.
"Good!" whooped Billy, slapping the seat. "Now open 'er up, man! God only knows how far ahead he is by now!"
Eyes wide, heart galloping, Dave shot the Torino onto the bypass and launched it immediately into the left of the two lanes aiming away from Confluence. As soon as he'd made the move, he realized that he hadn't checked his mirrors for approaching traffic; he was startled by his carelessness, grateful that the lanes that he'd crossed had been fortunately clear of other vehicles.
The Torino hurtled onward, surging past car after car, truck after truck. Dave bolted up behind anything which intruded in the passing lane, tailgated and flashed the Torino's headlights until the impediment nipped out of his way. If the bypass hadn't been an uphill grade, Dave could have goaded the car to higher speeds...but as it was, the Torino still managed to maintain a greater velocity than anything else around it.
Within a handful of minutes, the partners had covered half the distance from downtown to the highway, the interchange with Route 209. Eyes ever focused forward, constantly seeking their quarry, Dave and Billy had flown past a long parade of vehicles, an extensive assortment of makes and models...but no gray Honda had been sighted. Half of the bypass still sprawled ahead, but Dave was becoming convinced that Larry Smith wasn't there...or, if he was, he was so far in the distance that the Torino wouldn't catch up before he'd taken an exit and vanished.
"Damn," muttered Dave as the Torino swooped around a bend and another stretch of road opened up, yet another stretch with no Honda in sight. "I wish I'd gone after him as soon as he walked out of that place. I should've gone right up to him."
"No, you shouldn't've," Billy said distractedly. "This is better. If we ever find him, we can follow him to wherever he's going with that kid. We can find out a lot more than he would've told us, I bet."
"He was right there in front of me," moped Dave.
"You did the right thing," Billy said reassuringly, sounding a good deal calmer than he had at the start of the chase. "We've still got surprise on our side now. Whatever he planned to do, he's gonna' go do it, and he won't have any idea we're following him. Anyway, you might've run him off, and we might not've ever seen him again."
Wagging his head forlornly, Dave glanced at his friend. "By the way, what kept you?" he asked. "Why were you in that place for so long?"
"Aw, I was scoping things out. I walked in and looked around for a minute or two, and then I spotted Larry over at the other end of the gym. He was with that kid, and they were talking to some priest...and the next thing I knew, Larry and the kid started heading my way. I hid behind some bleachers and they just walked right by and out the door. After that, I figured I'd better wait a little bit, give them enough time to get away from the place so they wouldn't see me coming out. I just waited and hoped you wouldn't jump the gun...and then, when I saw them goin' for the car, and you started pullin' out, I took off after you."
"I still wish I'd gone after him," Dave mumbled disconsolately, and then he had to slow the Torino. The car had darted up to a pair of rolling obstructions, twin coal trucks blocking both lanes. Like pachyderms, the boxy monsters plodded side by side, dominating the road as if they believed that they possessed divine right by virtue of their size.
Irritated by the loss of acceleration, Dave jacked the Torino to within a few feet of the truck in the passing lane. Cursing, he returned to the tactics which had served him so well before...the rapid flashing of the headlights, the steady blare of the horn. Despite the demonstrations of protest, the coal truck made no move to clear a path; it just trundled tediously along, ignoring the flea which buzzed and blinked at its tail.
"Shit," growled Dave, glancing at the speedometer, noting that his progress had been slowed to forty miles an hour. "I hate when this happens."
"Lay off the horn and the lights," advised Billy. "You'll just piss these guys off, and they'll never let us past."
Nodding, Dave flicked off the headlights and removed his hand from the horn.
"How 'bout backin' off a little, too," suggested Billy.
"Why does this always happen when I'm in a hurry?" Dave said disgustedly. "When I'm not in a hurry, I never seem to run into this kind of crap, but when I am in a hurry, pow."
For another frustrating minute or two, the Torino lolled along behind the oblivious giant. Billy drummed on the armrest, Dave wagged his head and sighed...and then, at last, the truck in the passing lane began to advance a bit more rapidly. Coughing dark smoke from the stacks on either side of the cab, the leviathan slowly trawled past its twin.
"Finally," Dave clipped impatiently, easing the accelerator down. "It's about time."
"At least we are gettin' through," Billy added conciliatorily. "He could've held us up a lot longer if he'd wanted, man."
Gradually, the truck crept ahead, flashing a turn signal to indicate its intention to change lanes. At last, it meandered out of the way, lodging itself in front of its eleph
antine brother.
"Thank God," muttered Dave as the Torino left the trucks in its wake. "I hope to hell we don't get stuck like that again."
"I'll bet those guys got jammed up just like we did," said Billy, pointing at the knot of traffic that the Torino was swiftly approaching. "Yeah!" he laughed then, twisting around to look out the rear window. "The truck that was in front of us already went back into the passing lane! He must be playing games!"
Snickering, Billy faced forward again to resume his watch...and then, he suddenly cried out.
"Shit!" he erupted, his outburst so loud and surprising that it made Dave jerk his foot from the accelerator. "Slow down!" he commanded. "Get in the other lane!"
Stunned and stupefied, Dave bashed the brake and pitched the Torino into the right lane.
"Don't stop, for cryin' out loud!" bellowed Billy. "Just stay behind that Lincoln up there!"
"What's going on?" howled Dave.
"Larry!" shouted Billy, pointing dead ahead. "He's up there! Right in front of that Lincoln, man!"
Frowning with disbelief, Dave stared through the windshield. At first, he couldn't see much; through the windows of the white Lincoln Continental, he glimpsed the upper body of another car and the vague outline of its passengers. Then, the cluster of traffic coasted along a bend in the road, flowing in just enough of an arc that he had a clear view of the vehicles ahead.
Before the bypass straightened out, eclipsing Dave's line of sight, he saw it. Just a car-length ahead, directly in front of the white Lincoln, a gray Honda was cruising up the road. It wasn't just any gray Honda; Dave's glimpse of it was brief, yet clear enough to reveal a familiar profile in the side window.
Larry Smith was driving the Honda.
"It is him," announced Dave. "It's Larry. I don't believe it."
"Yup," said Billy Bristol, his voice laced with smugness. "I toldja' he took the bypass, man. I knew we could catch him if we just got it in gear, man."
"I wonder where they're going. You think maybe he's just driving this kid home or something?"
"Beats the hell outta' me," said Billy, "but I kind'a doubt he's just doing his good deed for the day."
"Maybe he had a vision about the kid," suggested Dave. "Maybe he's trying to stop something bad from happening to him...or maybe he's trying to use the kid to stop something from happening to somebody else."
"I don't know," replied Billy. "I guess we'll find everything out soon enough, though. All we've gotta' do is follow Larry to wherever he's going, see what he's up to with that kid, and then maybe we can get some explanations out of him."
"I hope so," Dave said tensely. "I could use some explanations right now."
*****
Chapter 25
Trees; there were lots of trees.
On both sides of the road, thick woodland loomed...and still, Larry Smith gave no sign of stopping. Both the quarry and pursuers were far from the city, far from the suburbs, far from any of the places that the partners had supposed might be logical destinations...and still, the gray Honda continued to skim smoothly along.
The pursuit had already lasted for over a half-hour. Always keeping the Honda in sight, always careful to stay concealed in traffic, Dave and Billy had followed Larry on a convoluted route: first, they had taken the bypass from downtown Confluence to Highland Township; after winding through Highland, they had made the fifteen-minute run up the highway to the town of Coalville; a tour of Coalville and neighboring McConleyville had led to a weaving country road...and, finally, Route 26, a highway cut into the dense forest through which Larry still proceeded.
With one car between them, a meringue Pontiac Sunbird, the Honda and Torino prolonged their promenade down Route 26. To either side, the road was walled with trees, the borders of woods which expanded out and forward for unseen acres. Rolling through the corridor which slit that vast forest, Dave and Billy peered ahead, looking for some sign or road or building that might summon Larry Smith...but they could see only trees, more trees.
The region was so empty of landmarks, the partners became convinced that Larry was going to lead them all the way to a distant town, perhaps Seymour or Breezewood; they decided that they might very well have an hour's drive ahead, maybe more...maybe much more. If Larry accessed the state turnpike in Breezewood, he could go anywhere, maybe even out of Pennsylvania; he might race off across the country, for all that Dave and Billy knew.
Whatever Larry had in mind, his pursuers didn't believe that the trek would conclude any time soon. As a result, when the Honda finally swung to the right, darting into the narrow mouth of a road which the partners hadn't even spotted, both Dave and Billy were surprised.
"There he goes!" Billy belted immediately, pointing at the Honda as it disappeared into the woods. "Slow down, man!"
Pressing the brake, Dave let the Torino decelerate as it approached the turn-off that Larry had taken. The Pontiac Sunbird, which had served as concealment for the pursuers, continued to shuttle down Route 26.
"Where is he going?" blurted Dave, grimacing as the Torino coasted toward the point where Larry had left the highway. "There's nothing back there, is there?"
"Take it real slow," ordered Billy. "We gotta' make sure he doesn't see us, man."
Dave gently nosed the Torino into the mouth of the side road. Anxiously, he and Billy peered into the woods, cast their gazes along the thin, gray strand of pavement etched toward the interior. They caught a glimpse of the Honda just as it tacked around a tight curve and vanished among the trees.
"Okay," said Billy. "Follow him. Just watch your speed, especially on the turns. Whenever we come up on a turn, I want you to practically stop, all right? I mean, we don't wanna' lose the son of a bitch, but I don't wanna' hit any straightaways while he's still on them."
"How the hell are we gonna' keep up with him, then?" Dave asked as he started after the Honda. "If we've gotta' stay so far back, how are we gonna' know if he turns off or something?"
"Don't worry about it," said Billy. "This road's in the middle of nowhere. I bet there aren't a whole lot of turnoffs."
Zipping up to the bend around which Larry had skated, Dave slowed the car abruptly. Inching around the curve, he looked ahead, saw a short, straight stretch which ended in another elbow. "This oughtta' be fun," he grumbled, proceeding toward the next twist in the narrow road. "If we stop at every curve, he'll get so far ahead of us that we'll never find him."
"Have some faith, willya'?" chucked Billy. "You didn't think we'd keep up with him this long, did ya'?"
Grunting, Dave eased the Torino to the bend; he braked the car to a crawl, checked the next stretch for Larry, then continued toward yet another crook in the road. "Where do you think he's going?" he asked then. "I mean, what's back in here, anyway?"
"Just woods," replied Billy. "State gamelands. I think it might even be part of Horton State Park."
"So why is he here?" pressed Dave. "What's he going to do? Why did he bring that kid along?"
"Beats the shit outta' me," sighed Billy. "Maybe they're gonna' go for a nature hike."
Further, ever further into the woods, the Torino followed the Honda. The road continued to wind and weave, loop and scroll like a signature; striving to remain unseen, the partners had to travel in fits and starts, pausing and lurking at each twist before darting on to the next.
Somehow, despite their halting progress and the zigzagging course, Dave and Billy managed to keep track of Larry. In the particularly convoluted sections of the passage, he disappeared for minutes at a time, and Dave worried that he'd slipped away; eventually, though, the partners always caught sight of him, spotted the Honda as it nipped around a bend or floated down one of the scarce straightaways.
As they continued to trail after the refugee, Dave and Billy watched for signs or markers, anything to suggest what Larry's destination might be; aside from some speed limit postings, they saw nothing but trees. As always seemed to be the case with Larry Smith, no guideposts pointed out his inten
tions; as always, it seemed, any revelations would come only as surprises.
At last, the journey ended. After fifteen minutes of negotiating the winding road, Dave and Billy saw that Larry had finally stopped. Drawing tentatively up to a hairpin curve, creeping around it to peek at the next cut of pavement, the partners spotted the Honda at rest, positioned in a dirt niche off the left side of the road.
Dave held the Torino just far enough into the curve that he could still see the Honda. As he and Billy watched, the doors of the compact popped open and Larry and the kid emerged.
"Okay," said Billy, his voice hushed as if he were afraid that Larry might hear him even from so many yards away. "This is it, man. This is where we get some answers."
"Is that a trail-head up there?" asked Dave, straining to make out the details of the cleft in the woods in which Larry had parked.
"Looks like it," nodded Billy. "Maybe I was right...they are going on a nature hike."
As the pursuers looked on, Larry and the kid walked away from the Honda and into the trees. The kid's white T-shirt and red sweatpants made him easy to see, made him stand out amid the dun and slate trunks of the April-dull forest.
"All right," said Billy, decisively whacking his hand on the dash. "Back this baby up. Back it outta' this turn and park it, man. We gotta' go after them on foot."
Growing more nervous as the moment of action swirled around him, Dave put the car in reverse and rolled it back around the hairpin. Hastily, he swung the Torino into the short straightaway before the curve, then guided it off the road and parked it in a level recess of dirt and dead brush to the left.
Before the car had stopped moving, Billy had flung open the door. "Come on!" he said imperatively as he dove out. "Hurry up, man! We don't want them to get too far away!"
Switching off the ignition, withdrawing his keys, Dave opened his own door. "This is crazy," he muttered as he stepped out of the car. "This just doesn't make any sense."
"Don't slam your door!" Billy said emphatically, gently closing the passenger-side door as a demonstration. "We don't wanna' tip him off that we're here!"
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