by Paula Cox
Jack's mind seemed unable to keep up with the flow of conversation. “Wh-what?”
Naomi's expression hardened and, finally, she shrieked, “I'm pregnant!”
Dust jostled free thanks to her decibel and floated down to the floor. Something on the roof skittered in fright. The sounds of the forest seemed to pause in the wake of Naomi's frustration. Everything leaned inwards, trying to catch his reaction.
Jack's eyes widened and the color drained from his face. Tyler winced. Even though the suspicion had been passed back and forth between the two of them, the shock still pounded through Jack's thoughts. Still, he tried to valiantly reply to the woman, “Naomi, I didn't-”
“I'm sorry.” Naomi turned and tromped off through the cabin, racing to the first room she found. Jack didn't even hesitate, chasing after her. His pounding footsteps echoed behind him, the whole cabin shaking under his force.
Tyler sighed and watched the two disappear down the hall and into a room. He shook his head and turned a morose gaze to Miranda. A strange look quirked at her face, her expression unreadable and foreign. Pain knotted through his chest. “You should get out of town. You and Naomi.”
She turned sharply to him. Something flared with anger in her green eyes. “No way!”
“Mir-” he started, an apologetic expression pinching at his face.
“I have work to do,” she sniffed, clenching the note Tyler had written her earlier concerning Pete's information. She snatched the laptop up in her arms and paced down the hall. Tyler didn't follow her like Jack had done for Naomi. Her heart flapped sadly at the fact while her head was thankful. She needed time to think.
Miranda stepped into her usual room, ignoring the scent of dust and stale air as she slammed her door shut. She dropped her burden on the dresser and angrily stormed across the room.
Men! What were they thinking? Self-sacrificing fools!
She punched her bed, a flurry of dust pluming from the mattress. Coughing, she waved the dust away from her face, considering the fact they'd have to air out the cabin a bit. They weren't supposed to stay long, though. With Baldie on their tail, it'd only be a matter of time until the cabin was found. Pacing the room, she tried to spur on some thoughts. Miranda's hand dug into her hair, considering what few options they had. Nothing came to mind.
As she rounded the room, her eyes fell on the laptop sitting on the dresser. Maybe the accounts would give her some intel. Dusting off a chair and pulling it up to the dresser, Miranda opened the laptop. Moral qualms battled in her head, briefly.
Pete's right to privacy was revoked when he threatened people she loved.
Conviction in place, her fingers flew across the keyboard. The tapping of the keys filled her room as the background of forest sounds wafted in through the walls.
* * *
Tyler cursed as Miranda disappeared down the hall. He had to fight his feet against following her. This wasn't a situation like Naomi and Jack's. This was entirely different. She could save herself. She had no reason to stick her neck out for him. His feet scuffed along the floor of the cabin. He needed something to keep his mind off her and everything.
He began to air out the cabin, shaking out dusty blankets and opening a few windows. He wasn't going to completely open it up, though. Someone could have followed them from Legacy. Though, he doubted it, it paid to be safe, especially with a pregnant person under their roof.
He jumped as his phone chimed in his pocket. Swiping it out, he didn't even bother glancing at the name. Only one person had this number. He flipped the phone open and held it to his ear, “What's up, Lloyd?”
“Have you gotten any more proof?” The voice on the other end crackled. In the background, Tyler made out the sounds of a raucous bar scene. The connection crackled with static. Or maybe there was interference from something on Lloyd's end.
Tyler sighed and shook his head, even though the man on the other end couldn't see the action. “Not yet, man.”
“Jeez,” hissed Lloyd. He made a sound like he was sucking a popcorn kernel out of his molars. “Ty, you're putting me in a tough spot.”
“I know, I know,” Tyler paced around the living area. Frustration tinged his thoughts and tinted his words. “Just shit has been happening on this end.”
Lloyd was silent for a moment. Tyler could hear the gears turning in the man's head. He was trying to figure out what could have gone wrong. Last time he saw them, they were bruised and battered, but in gracious and good spirits. “Shit? What kind of shit?”
He took a deep breath, steadying his nerves. Finally, after a beat of hesitance, Tyler muttered, “We went back to Legacy.”
“Aw, dammit, Tyler!” Lloyd cussed under his breath and the sound of crunching rocks indicated he paced around on gravel. Or maybe he was power-walking to his hog, ready to track down the doofuses he let go.
“No, it's not what you think,” assured Tyler, though the words came out clipped. He knew he wasn't telling the full truth, but Lloyd didn't need to know that. “I'm not here for Miranda. Well, kind of. She's a bank manager and her family owns a ton of banks across the nation.”
The crunching gravel ceased on Lloyd's end. His voice dropped down to a deadpan grunt, “I'm listening.”
“She has access to tons of accounts. I thought she'd be able to help me get proof of Pete's transgressions against the Bandits.”
Lloyd grunted under his breath. It was a sound of slight surprise and approval. “Well, as long as you're not thinking with your dick.”
“Trust me, I'm not.” Tyler turned as he met with one end of the living area. As he did, he caught Miranda standing in the hallway, watching him. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes bright with passion and ferocity. Tyler swallowed the lump in his throat, discomfort clogging his thoughts. Had she heard all of that? “Uh, I'll have to call you back, Lloyd.”
Anger and hurt simmered in Miranda's thoughts. Her feelings would have to wait until later, though. She stepped up to the shamefaced Tyler and simply stated, “I found something. We should get Jack and Naomi.”
CHAPTER TWENTY ONE
In the warm glow of a lantern, the four huddled around the dining room table. Naomi picked olives out of a jar, popping them into her mouth. Jack stood behind her, hands on the back of her chair as Miranda smoothed the map. Tyler stood awkwardly, unwelcome to Miranda's side and a third wheel on Jack's side. He tried to ignore his tenuous placement.
Through the window, he watched the sun descend below the trees. A blanket of blue light filtered across the window and splashed over the trees. Leaves rustled gently and, in the distance, a coyote howled to the open sky.
“So, I've found Pete's taking an awful lot of money out here.” Miranda tapped a spot she circled in pencil on the map. Beside her, the still-open laptop hummed in exertion. “San Marta is about a ten hour drive from here. Got to get through New Mexico and into Texas, but it's on the border.” She leaned over the crisp new map the men had bought at the general store. She smoothed out the folds as she pointed to the town. “Short of weapons, I'm not sure why he'd be withdrawing that much money down there.”
Her gaze flickered to the others, gauging their reactions. Personal pride bubbled through her head. It wasn't every day you got to track down suspicious activity. Well, not when you were a small town bank manager.
Naomi's brow creased. She glanced at Jack and Tyler with apprehension. “Has he made any major purchases or gone anywhere?”
Jack and Tyler exchanged glances. They both were thinking the same thing. Pete was known for being stingy and enjoying the comforts of his turf. He rarely overspent and never left Temple, Arizona. Together, they shook their head.
“Someone did say Pete's got a side dish, somewhere.”
“He's cheating on Lillian?” Tyler wrinkled his nose as his lips twisted into a scowl, “What a cuss.”
“That's just what I heard,” Jack shrugged.
Naomi glanced from Miranda to the men. To no one in particular, she asked, “So,
what does him withdrawing a lot mean?”
“Pete might be involved with drugs,” muttered Jack. “And if it's drugs, a cartel might be involved.”
Tyler's eyebrows rose. A small tidbit toyed amongst his thoughts. Just before leaving, Pete announced a truce with a rival club. “He did buddy up with the Cobras recently.”
The light went off inside Jack's hand and he added an exuberant, “Yeah, he did, didn't he?”
“Well, if we get to San Marta, we might pick up a scent.” Miranda went on, ignoring the superfluous information. She turned the conversation back on course. They needed to discuss what she found out and make a plan, not discuss the gossip surrounding Pete. This new information may be their only option at survival. “At least I can question the bank manager there, see if they've seen anything weird.”
Tyler's brow furrowed. He wasn't sure how much he enjoyed the thought of Miranda talking to the managers. It would risk her job and her life. Especially if Pete found out.
Before he could voice his concern, though, Naomi butted in, “So, how do we call off Pete's dogs until then?”
“Short of death, will they leave you alone?” Miranda added, turning her attention to the men.
Jack answered with a derisive snort. “Doubtful.”
“Then you guys have to die,” Miranda stated, in a matter-of-fact tone. She hastily added, as shock descended, “Or appear to die.”
CHAPTER TWENTY TWO
The twilight kissed the horizon, painting everything with shades of yellow and pink. Jack and Tyler slowly made their way through the airport's parking garage. Airplanes roared in the background, hissing and screaming down runways before thundering into the sky. The noise sliced an edge through Tyler's thoughts.
With every step he took, he recounted the plan in excruciating detail. The women were dropped off at the airport at five, allegedly to board a seven o'clock flight routed to Germany. She'd texted Mike Franklin – Baldie's identity, as relayed by Lloyd – and let him know their pre-determined route out of Legacy.
His heart hiccupped with every movement he made. He hated this plan. It was one thing when his life was on the line. Nothing special would be lost if he died. Jack had Naomi and a kid on the way. Miranda had a job and a life. Everyone else had too much at stake if something in this plan spiraled out of control.
“I don't like this, Jack,” Tyler muttered as he made his way to his hog. He picked up his helmet and plopped it on to his head, wriggling it on. He kept his voice low, not wanting his aversions to echo off the parking garage walls.
Jack nodded, his voice equally low as he swung onto his bike. “I know, Ty.”
“What if something goes wrong?” He saw any number of worst-case scenarios paint the inside of his eyelids. Miranda could have genuinely double-crossed them. The plan could fail, horribly, leaving them meaty streaks on the highway. Lloyd could feel he has more to gain siding with Pete. Tyler's stomach flipped at the very thoughts.
“We need to have faith it'll work out,” Jack sighed.
A pang of guilt licked across the insides of Tyler's thoughts. His brother was just as anxious when it came to Naomi. He couldn't even imagine the strain the thought of the baby put on Jack. For the moment, Tyler could swallow his concerns. Just as he revved his motorcycle to life, Tyler yelled over the reverberated roar, “Yeah, you're right, Jack.”
Together, the two of them peeled out of the parking garage. From the shadows, leather-clad figures stirred. Pulling away from the darkness, a little slower and a little calmer, the strangers exchanged glances. Matching scowls curled their lips into downward arcs. After trading harsh glares and nods, the two men rolled out of the parking lot, heading after Jack and Tyler.
* * *
Silence funneled into the cabin. No one seemed to like the concept of 'having' to die. Even appearance-wise, it sounded rather permanent and painful. But gears turned in their heads. Faked deaths would certainly get Pete off their butts, even if it were temporary.
“That bald guy said we can turn you in,” Naomi sheepishly stated, as if were treason to reiterate his offer. “I don't think he could handle you both alone, so do you know any other guys in the area?”
“Lloyd and his men.” Tyler answered, nodding his head. A plan was beginning to piece together in his head. If they could get Lloyd in on the scheme, just maybe he and Jack could make it out alive. “Pete still doesn't know Lloyd's double-crossed him.”
“We'll need someone to go with Baldie as he follows you,” stated Miranda, excitement coursing through her veins. Everything was falling into place. They may even pull this off. “Can we count on Lloyd to help?”
Jack and Tyler answered in completely confident unison, “Absolutely.”
“Wait, you said they have to die, Miranda.” Naomi pointed out, worry in her voice. “How do you plan to do that?”
Miranda leaned against the table. She eyed the map she had laid out before them all, her fingers pointing to a well-known, dangerous curve in Legacy. “Back when we were in high school, they shot a big action movie here.”
Tyler's eyes flickered to where her finger pointed. Faint memories tickled at his synapses. Snatches of excited conversations caught in high school hallways ten years ago. “Yeah, everyone was talking about it all senior year.”
“Well, they had this one scene where the car careened off the cliff.” Miranda tapped Deadman's Curve with a fingernail.
“And?” Tyler's memories sputtered. He barely recalled anything from the movie, even though he'd seen it three times before leaving Legacy. He could say what he wanted about the town, but they took pride in what accomplishments they had gained.
Miranda's gaze flickered up and, with a completely serious tone, she said, “We're going to do that with you guys.”
Three voices echoed in complete shock, “What!”
* * *
Around Tyler and Jack, open stretches of nature rolled by. The gentle pinks gave way to deeper reds and, eventually, blueish purples. Just as they reached the checkpoint spot, Tyler caught the sound of foreign motorcycles behind them. He glanced to Jack, who nodded his confirmation. They were being followed.
Hogs roared behind them as they turn onto an empty, country road. Adrenaline raced through Tyler's blood, though he attempted to stifle it. Even though he knew most of the men behind him were Lloyd's buddies, that didn't do anything to assuage his worries. Some of them might be loyal to Pete or part of his out-of-town entourage. The thought sent a chill through his gut. The only bright side was the fact Miranda was safe, away from these men. For now.
Across the dark distance, Jack glanced uncertainly at Tyler. He imperceptibly nodded. Together, they gained speed. Behind them, the choppers roared and snarled through the night air. The rev of increased velocity licked at the air behind them.
A sudden growl ripped through the air and a man, on a smaller-than-average motorcycle, raced up to them. He grabbed at Jack's handlebars. Jack's hog swerved and yanked around. He hissed and cursed, lifting his booted foot up.
CRACK
His heel connected with the man's arm. He yowled in pain, but pulled away from Jack, holding his arm at an awkward angle and steering with one arm.
In his distraction, Tyler didn't notice the biker come up on his left until the pain arched up his side. He hissed, jerking toward the man who had just jammed something against his side. His fist blindly swung out, catching him on the jaw. He went flying, his motorcycle skidding on its side across the road.
Another man came up on Tyler's right, ramming into the side of his hog. Metal on metal shrieked through the evening air. Blunt pain throbbed through his calf, pinned between his motorcycle and the man's boot.
Jack came to Tyler's rescue. He crashed into the side of the offender's motorcycle, slamming his fist in an arch toward the man's helmeted face. He barely had the time to ease on his gas and slam on his break. He slunk backward behind the two of them just as the warning sign for Dead Man's Curve cropped up.
It
was an old sign, bleached from the sun and nearly obscured by dust. The words 'Dead Man's Curve' peeled across it. Below it, added later and in a different font, were the words: Proceed with caution.
Few braved the curve at night. But, pursued by other bikers, it would make a great escape route. Deadman's Curve skirted a cliff face that dropped, sharply, down to the raging rivers fifty feet below. Pursuers would be forced to slow down.
However, that wasn't how it'd play out for Jack and Tyler.
They made a show of pumping on their breaks. Then they frantically tried to slam their breaks, pumping the handle viciously. Their shocked screams tore through the air as they watched the mangled, incoming guardrail close in on them. The bikes roared passed the broken metal, tire treads spinning on thin air. For a split second, their motorcycles arched through the air, roaring in flight. Jack and Tyler scrambled out of their seats, jumping back toward the cliff side.