Midnight Is My Time

by Mike Dellosso

  “I’m useful,” the girl said. “You’ll see that you need me.” She looked to her right and stared down the road. “Besides, we’re losing time. They’re getting farther and farther away. So what’s it gonna be, freak-show?”

  She was right. She had his back against a wall with few options. “Fine.”

  “Great. Follow me.” The girl headed across the dried lawn in front of the school and crossed the parking lot to where a late model Ford SUV sat unattended. She tried the driver’s side door and found it unlocked. She glanced at Andy. “Careless.”

  “Wait,” Andy said. “You’re going to steal it?”

  “It’s already stolen,” she said. “You think someone in there”—she pointed at the school—“bought this with their own money?”

  She had a point.

  She climbed in behind the wheel and reached under the steering column. “Look, if it’ll make you feel better, we’ll only borrow it, okay?” She flashed him a crooked smile.

  In a few seconds, the girl had the Ford running. The engine hummed. She motioned to the passenger seat. “Hop in.”

  Andy shook his head. “No way. Move over. I drive or this is a no-go.”

  “We’re wasting time.”

  “Move over.”

  The girl hesitated, then climbed over the center console and planted herself in the passenger seat.

  Andy slid in behind the wheel. “You drive too?”

  “Of course. How do you think I got from Nebraska to here?”

  Andy put the vehicle in gear and backed out of the parking space. “Which way?”

  She pointed east.

  Once they were on the road, he said, “What’s your name, anyway?”

  “Belle.”

  “Like the Disney character?”

  She smiled. “Beauty and the beast.”

  “That’s original.”

  “Hey, you walked right into it.”

  “I guess I did.”

  “So can I call you something other than freak-show?”

  “Andy.”

  “Like the Disney character.”

  Andy gave her a blank look.

  “Toy Story? Really? Andy? The little boy and his favorite toy, Sheriff Woody Pride? The cowboy?”

  “Nope.”

  “So you know who the Disney princess is but not the cowboy.” She glanced at the Stetson sitting atop his head. “That’s revealing.”

  They drove for several minutes in silence. Belle kept her face toward the window. Andy watched the road but kept scanning the horizon for any sign of the pickup. On either side of the road, the landscape ran for acres in a series of rolling hills covered with browning grass. Occasionally, an abandoned house would appear. Andy paid close attention for hints of life, but rarely were there signs of any.

  Finally, Belle said, “Where’re you from, Andy?”

  “Kentucky.”

  “Are you a real-life cowboy?”

  “I was.”

  “Did you rope cattle and ride the range?”

  Andy shook his head. “Not that kind of cowboy.”

  “Did you carry a six-shooter?”

  “Not that kind either.”

  “Any gunfights?”

  “Nope.”

  “Any fights at all? Saloon brawls? Punch-outs in dusty towns?”

  Andy hesitated. He’d tried to avoid fights but . . . Dean Shannon had started it. Andy never wanted to fight Dean, but the guy wouldn’t give up, wouldn’t keep his mouth shut. Something had to be done, and once started, it spiraled out of control. Before Andy knew it, Dean was clinging to life, and Andy was no longer welcome at the ranch. “Just one.”

  “And?”

  “And what?”

  “Did you win?”

  “Nobody wins those kinds of fights. It’s not like in the movies.”

  Belle turned to look out the window. For a long time, she watched the pale earth glide by. Finally, she turned her face from the window and faced him. “Did you lose anyone when everything went crazy?”

  She was referring to The Event. He hesitated, studied the shell of an old farmhouse standing in the middle of a desolate field. “My mother.”

  “I’m sorry.” She looked out the window again. “My parents were taken. I was almost four. My aunt had taken me out for the day so my parents could go out to eat. It was their tenth wedding anniversary. They never came home. My aunt knew what had happened. I don’t remember any of it. My aunt raised me until I was ten. She died of a heart attack.”

  “And since then you’ve been on your own.”

  “Flyin’ solo like Han.”

  “Han?”

  “Solo. Star Wars?”

  Andy shook his head.

  “Wow. You missed out on a lot, didn’t you?”

  She started to say something more, but Andy hushed her with his hand. “There.” About a quarter mile ahead of them. The truck. Missy.

  Chapter 11

  Missy sat between Trevor and Jordan in the front seat of the truck. Jordan drove. The odor of cigarettes clung to him like an old mildew and reminded Missy of the assault by Colin’s friend.

  “Do you mind cracking the windows?” she said.

  Jordan said, “Sure.”

  A gust of cool morning air rushed through the cabin, and Missy drew in a long breath to clear her lungs of the heavy nicotine. She reached up to push hair off her forehead and noticed her hand was trembling. She didn’t like leaving Andy while he was sleeping. She knew he’d tried to stay awake to watch over her, but after a few hours she’d awakened and heard his deep sleep-breathing. The guy had been through so much and was exhausted.

  She wanted to believe that leaving was the best thing for him and her. He seemed like the type who did better on his own, making his own time, setting his own course, marching to his own drum. Maybe that was why he balked at allowing her to tag along in the first place.

  She probably could move faster with Trevor anyway. She needed to get to Maine as quickly as possible, and for some reason, trouble seemed to follow Andy.

  As if he could sense the battle within her or maybe read the tension on her face, Trevor placed his hand on her right knee and said, “You’re doing the right thing.”

  “Am I?”

  “Yes. Andy doesn’t want you tagging along.”

  “I noticed it right away,” Jordan said.

  “He has his own problems to worry about, his own agenda. You’re doing him a favor.” Trevor slid his hand away from Missy’s knee, a few inches farther up her thigh. “We can get you to where you’re going.”

  Missy dropped her hand to her thigh and brushed Trevor’s hand away. She wasn’t sure if the move was intentional or not but wanted to assume it wasn’t. Until this point, Trevor had been nothing but a gentleman, treating her with respect and kindness. He deserved the benefit of the doubt.

  Suddenly, the truck’s engine whined and the vehicle lunged forward.

  Missy reflexively reached for Trevor. “What’s going on?”

  “Missy.” Trevor took her hand and held it tightly. “Hold on. The ride’s about to get rough.”

  Missy tensed her muscles and braced herself against the back of the seat.

  Trevor pulled her hand to his chest. He leaned toward her and pressed his face to her ear. “I’ll never let go of you.”

  .......

  “They spotted us,” Andy said. The truck had increased its speed to put distance between itself and the SUV.

  Andy glanced at Belle. “You got your seatbelt tight?”

  She tugged on it. “Check.”

  “Hold on.”

  Andy pressed the gas pedal almost to the floor. The Ford growled and rumbled down the road. He’d lost sight of the truck when it sped over the next rise in the road. When he crested the hill, he caught a glimpse of it before it rounded the next bend.

  “C’mon.” He massaged the steering wheel, willing the large vehicle to go faster, to close the gap.

  Around the bend, the road straighte
ned and leveled for at least a half mile. The truck was up ahead. He’d gained a little ground but not much. He couldn’t let them get away. Not now. He might lose Missy for good.

  .......

  “What’s happening? Why did we speed up?” Missy’s heart thumped in her chest. Jordan drove erratically. He must have been doing a hundred miles an hour.

  “It’s nothing, little sister,” Trevor said. He put his arm around Missy’s shoulders and tried to pull her close, but she resisted.

  “What’s the matter?” he asked.

  She pulled farther away and shrugged his arm off her shoulders. “What’s going on? Is it Andy?”

  “No way,” Jordan said. “That dude doesn’t care about you enough to come after you.”

  “Then what’s going on?”

  “Nothin’. I just want to get moving. There’s no cops around here, and the road is great.” Jordan paused and Missy felt him shift his weight. He was lying. “Just figured I’d open this thing up a little and let it run.”

  “You’re lying,” Missy said. “It’s Andy, isn’t it?”

  Trevor let go of her hand. “Look, yes, someone is following us, okay? But I doubt it’s Andy. He isn’t going to go through all the trouble of stealing a car and tracking us down to rescue you. He’s not the type.”

  Missy stiffened and turned her face toward her lap.

  “Hey.” Trevor touched her under the chin. “Listen, I’ve been around, you know? I’ve seen and met all types of people. I know his type. He’s out for one thing. Himself. Survival. He may act like he cares, but when the pressure is on, his focus turns on himself. I’m sorry.”

  Missy wanted to believe Trevor, not because of what he said but because she truly liked him, had from the moment he slid into the seat next to her. She wanted to believe him because if he was lying, it meant she’d been duped. But she wasn’t sure she could believe him. She’d felt something about Andy, something special. He was different. She wasn’t sure how but she sensed it. He was trustworthy and honest. Yes, there was a side to him that he kept hidden, that he battled quietly; she sensed that too, but she had to trust that voice inside her. The voice that was not of this world, that was not bound by temporal things and finite knowledge. That voice guided her, carried her along, kept her from danger.

  And right now the voice was telling her to trust Andy. Not Trevor.

  “I want you to stop the truck.” She said it with as much authority as she could muster.

  “No way,” said Jordan.

  .......

  Andy depressed the accelerator to the floor. “Let’s see what this thing can do.”

  The truck’s engine growled again. Belle stiffened and grabbed her seat belt.

  The speedometer’s needle climbed steadily, passing seventy, seventy-five, eighty. The road ahead was straight and flat. If Andy was going to gain ground, now was the time to do it.

  .......

  “Oh man,” Jordan said. “We gotta go.”

  The truck accelerated again and pressed Missy into the seat. She had to do something. This wasn’t right. “Stop the truck now,” she said again. “I want to get out.”

  Neither of her companions responded, and Jordan did nothing to slow the truck.

  “Trevor,” she said. “Tell him to stop the truck.”

  But Trevor said nothing. She felt him next to her, tense and still.

  She’d have to take matters into her own hands. With her heart in her throat, she reached for Jordan’s right arm and yanked on it.

  “Hey! What?” Jordan ripped his arm from her grip and elbowed her in the shoulder. “Knock it off. Trevor, get a grip on her.”

  Quicker than she could respond, Trevor reached around her and pulled her into his body, pinning both her arms to her sides. She tried to break free, but any effort to break his grip was futile.

  .......

  The SUV’s engine proved much more powerful than the aging pickup’s. Andy made ground quickly and closed the gap.

  .......

  “Let me go,” Missy barked.

  Trevor squeezed her harder. “Stop it, Missy. This is for your own good. We’re protecting you. Can’t you see he’s obsessed with you?”

  “No. Stop the truck.” She strained more but could not move Trevor’s arms. Instead, she lowered her head and clamped her mouth on his arm.

  Trevor yelped and butted Missy hard in the side of the head. Pain thumped in her skull and radiated into her eyes. Trevor did not loosen his grip.

  .......

  The SUV was a mere ten feet from the truck’s rear bumper. Andy thought about ramming it, but he didn’t want to upend the truck and take the chance of injuring Missy. The driver, Jordan, was erratic, barely in control. The truck jerked right, then left, swerved in and out of the lane, crossing the center line, then toying with the shoulder.

  “Hang on,” Jordan said. “I got an idea.”

  The truck slowed dramatically; the tires locked and screamed across the road’s surface. Missy lurched forward. The seat belt dug into her abdomen and hips. Trevor lost his grip on her.

  .......

  The truck’s brake lights illuminated, and quicker than Andy could respond, the SUV’s front bumper collided with the pickup’s rear bumper. A sudden stop, the moan and groan of bending metal. The fracture of shattering glass.

  Andy lifted his arm to brace Belle, but it was too late. She flew forward against her seat belt and let out a hideous shriek.

  .......

  The truck then jumped forward, the tires skidding along the asphalt. Missy was whipped back into the seat, her head snapping backward. Pain shot like lightning down her spine.

  .......

  The tail end of the SUV swerved to the right as Andy lost control. It continued to spin until the tires jumped off the pavement and came to a sudden stop in the loose soil along the shoulder. The front end continued the spin until the vehicle came to a stop in the forest about twenty feet off the road.

  .......

  The engine whined and the truck lunged ahead again.

  “Wow! Are you two okay?” Jordan said. Adrenaline-fueled excitement laced his voice.

  “That was nuts,” Trevor snapped.

  “Woo-hoo!” Jordan laughed. “Yeah, it was, and it worked. They’re toast.”

  Missy rubbed her neck. The ache began in her head and radiated all the way down to her tailbone. “Please. Stop. I want to get out. You can’t keep me against my will.”

  Trevor’s face pressed against her ear again. When he spoke, anger sharpened his voice with a hatred she never would have imagined he possessed. “You’re with us now. You’re mine.”

  Chapter 12

  After checking to make sure Belle was okay—she was—and that the SUV was still functional—it was, barely—Andy straightened it out and headed back on the road in the direction the pickup had gone. But by the time he crested the next rise, he had lost view of the truck. Missy was gone. Again. He’d lost her. Again.

  Andy hit the steering wheel and cursed under his breath. He allowed the SUV to slow to the speed limit.

  “You going after her?” Belle asked.

  “I’m thinking.”

  “Thinking’s not going to find her.”

  He glanced at Belle. “You have a better idea?”

  “Yeah. Find her.”

  “Easy to say.”

  “Hard to do. Do you let hard stop you?”

  This girl made too much sense for Andy to ignore her. He pushed the gas pedal closer to the floor, and the SUV accelerated. About a mile up the road, in the middle of a heavily wooded stretch, a secondary road branched off to the right. Andy slowed the Ford again until it came to a stop in the middle of the pavement just before the turn-off.

  “Which way?” Belle said.

  Andy surveyed his surroundings. The road ahead wound to the left and disappeared into the forest. The road to the right branched at a forty-five-degree angle and cut a straight path through a thick patch of skeletal, leafless trees
. The road was narrow, the pavement faded and crumbling in spots.

  What would Trevor do? Or how about the new guy, Jordan? Which way would they take?

  “‘I shall be telling this with a sigh,’” Belle said, “‘somewhere ages and ages hence.’”

  Andy turned toward the girl. Her eyes fixated on the road to the right.

  “‘Two roads diverged in a wood,’” she continued, “‘and I took the one less traveled by.’” She turned to look at Andy. “‘And that has made all the difference.’”

  Andy stared at her blankly.

  “Robert Frost?”

  Andy shook his head. “Nope.”

  “Really? So no Han Solo, no Woody Pride, no Robert Frost, but you know who Belle is. The Disney princess.” She smiled. “You are one puzzling dude.”

  “Am I?” He motioned toward both options. “So what’s your guess here?”

  “No guess. Frost is the man. Take the road less traveled.”

  He didn’t know how, but she was right. This girl had not accompanied him by accident. This was not a chance meeting. She was right; he was thankful he’d brought her along.

  He turned off the main road and knew he’d made the right decision.

  .......

  Missy was asleep. They’d been driving for hours when she finally fell asleep, her head on his shoulder. She’d cried a lot, and he should have felt bad about that, but he didn’t. He was going to kill her. There’d be a lot more crying then.

  Trevor looked at the driver. Jordan. A punk. Never took anything seriously. Lived life one day at a time. He’d had contact with Jordan several times over the years, and each time he liked him more and more. He was a useful idiot. Always ready for an adventure.

  Well, this would be an adventure.

  Up ahead, there was an abandoned house. The occupants had left eight years ago. They’d tried to live on their own, but sickness overcame them, and one by one they’d dropped off. Nobody cared either. They were useless idiots like most people. Like Jordan.

  Trevor lifted a hand and touched Missy’s hair. He should kill her now, then kill the idiot. But he wanted to have some fun with her first. What was the point of having such a beauty in your possession if you couldn’t enjoy her, right?