The Getaway

by Sonya Bateman

  “You’re not completely hopeless.”

  “Coming from you, that’s a compliment.” He reached for her hand, and she took it. “I could feel you,” he said hoarsely. “That’s how I found you. It was like you were whispering in my ear.”

  “Oh, yeah?” She squeezed his hand. “What was I saying?”

  “Let’s see. It was something like, ‘Get your ass here, right now, before I kick it all the way back upstate.’”

  Her own laughter surprised her. “Yeah, that does sound like me,” she said.

  “So there’s my story,” he said. “What’s yours?”

  She told him everything, from waking up in the cabin bedroom thinking it was a dream, to realizing too late that she’d been drugged. “Those things he has in the bathroom. The radio, the camera,” she said. “They threw me when I thought he was just a guy who couldn’t be more than thirty. But he’s djinn.”

  “And djinn don’t age,” Donatti said. “He wrecked the car. That was the resistance. How much you want to bet he did the same thing with those other cars we saw?”

  “Jesus,” she whispered. “And the passengers...”

  “Let’s not stick around long enough to find out what he does with them.”

  * * *

  The woods were strangely silent. Other than a faint wind rustling dry leaves and their own steps on the forest floor, there was nothing. Not a single creaking branch or calling bird. No signs of other life.

  They’d been walking for about fifteen minutes when Jazz slowed and came to a stop beside a big fir tree. “Donatti,” she said. “Does this look familiar to you?”

  “No. It’s a goddamn tree. We’re surrounded by trees, and—” He looked closer. His gaze found what she’d noticed already, the lower branch that was broken and splintered at the trunk, hanging at a sharp angle, almost touching the ground. “We passed this before,” he said.

  “Yeah. We just walked in a big fucking circle.” She kicked at the ground, spraying a cloud of dead needles in the air. “This is still the path you came up, right? So apparently it’s changed directions in the past few hours.”

  Something rustled in the brush ahead. A flash of red fur darted between branches and vanished again. The bastard was following them.

  “Son of a bitch.” Jazz gripped the poker two-handed and strode for the brush.

  Donatti grabbed her. “Whoa, killer,” he said. “That doesn’t work with djinn. Remember?”

  “Yeah. I can’t take him out. But it’ll still hurt when I smash his fucking skull.” She’d always taken care of herself, so being defenseless pissed her off. Regular people couldn’t kill a djinn. In order to enter the human realm, they had to be bound to an object, a tether. And only destroying the tether would destroy the djinn. You could empty a machine gun into one and he—or she—would live through it. Since Donatti was only part djinn, he’d still die like a human.

  Of course, he could destroy the djinn. With magic. That pissed her off, too.

  “Don’t,” he murmured. “I’ve got a feeling we’re going to need this guy.”

  “Why? You planning to make a coat out of him?”

  “Let’s keep walking.” He tried to guide her ahead. She resisted. He frowned. “Jazz, please. Trust me.”

  Right. Trust the man who couldn’t plan a takeout dinner without an instruction book and a personal coach. The man who’d ditched her, almost gotten her arrested, left her alone and pregnant, then damn near gotten her killed when he popped back into her life like nothing had happened.

  The man who saved my life, and Cy’s, when a djinn tried to kill us. The man I was just crying over a few hours ago when I thought he was dead.

  Damn it. Maybe she did love him.

  “All right,” she said. “I’ll trust you. This time.”

  “Your confidence is overwhelming.” He led her back to the faded thread of the path, and lowered his voice to a whisper while they walked. “Listen, I don’t want him to know about my...uh, abilities yet,” he said. “I think we’re gonna have to outsmart this guy.”

  “Great. We’re dead, then.”

  “Thanks a lot.” He scowled, but the expression changed to a smile when he caught the laughter in her eyes. “Anyway, I’ve got an idea. Hopefully it’ll stop us from walking in circles.”

  “I hope it works fast,” she muttered. “We’re losing daylight, and—” Something rustled deliberately behind them. Jazz whirled around, reflexively bringing the poker back.

  The fox sat on the path, twenty feet away, watching them with glittering eyes and a grin that was almost human. The thing was so big, it made her head hurt. There weren’t any foxes the size of Saint Bernards. The longer she stared at it, the more she wanted to...

  Go to him. Stroke his fur. Lie down on the cool ground and let him warm her, soothe her.

  “Wrong way, babe.” Donatti’s low, urgent voice snapped her back. “Keep moving. Don’t look at it.”

  For a few seconds her feet wouldn’t obey the command to walk. She managed a step, then another, and the small victories shattered the remains of the trance. She moved. But she couldn’t resist a quick glance behind them.

  The fox was gone.

  She shuddered. Should’ve been used to things disappearing by now, but it still creeped her out. “So, what are we doing?” she whispered.

  “Well.” He stared straight ahead, like he didn’t want to tell her. “Djinn magic works on need, right? So I figured if I really needed to find the car, we’d find it.”

  “That’s your big idea?”

  “Yeah. You got a better one?”

  She sighed. “No. Unless you’ve got a helicopter up your ass.”

  “I keep telling Ian we need one of those, but he won’t listen. Maybe you can talk him into it.”

  “Right. And maybe I could convince Charles Manson to take up knitting.” Ian had been royalty or something, back in the djinn realm before he came here. Nobody talked him into anything. Except Akila, and even she didn’t win half the time.

  They walked in silence while the sun slipped low and stuffed the woods full of deeper shadows. Still no sign of the road, or any indication of a break in the forest, but at least they didn’t seem to be passing the same places. Maybe Donatti’s crazy idea was working.

  “Poor little lost rabbits.”

  Seth’s voice broke the stillness. At least it wasn’t a booming echo this time. Jazz glanced around, didn’t see him anywhere. Then she faced forward and spotted him standing on a thick branch, halfway up a tree loaded with blazing red leaves. “We’re not lost, asshole,” she said.

  Donatti elbowed her. “On’t-day alk-tay im-hay,” he muttered.

  She gaped at him. “You’re not serious. Pig latin?”

  “Shh.”

  She rolled her eyes and shut her mouth. Looked back at the tree. No Seth.

  “Oh, but you are.”

  This time the voice came from the right, and Seth popped into view perched on a moss-covered boulder. He laughed. “By all means, keep going this way. Have fun when you get to the gorge.”

  He was fucking with them. Had to be.

  Didn’t he?

  “Jazz.” Behind them now, his voice a seductive swirl. “You don’t have to die out here with him. Come with me. I’ll take care of you.”

  Donatti squeezed her hand. She kept walking. Didn’t look back.

  Seth materialized ahead of them. Grinning. “It’s a long drop down the gorge,” he said. “You won’t see it in the dark. If you survive the fall, I hope you can swim.”

  “Fuck off,” Donatti snarled.

  His mouth opened, and laughter oozed out like blood. He faded into nothing.

  Jazz waited a few minutes. “I thought you said don’t talk to him.”

  “So sue me.”

  “You’re cute when you’re jealous.”

  “Hmph.” He coughed once, slowed and pointed ahead. A grin eased onto his lips. “I’m cuter when I’m right.”

  She followed the ges
ture—and saw the wide swath cutting through the trees, just visible in the fading light. It had to be the road. “I’ll be damned,” she said. “It worked.”

  “You can thank me later.”

  They made their way to the clearing. No stretch of pavement ever looked so beautiful. She would’ve knelt down and kissed asphalt if there wasn’t a witness. “So the bastard was just trying to confuse us,” she said. “Gorge, my—”

  A strangled gasp from Donatti cut her mid-curse. She followed his stricken gaze, and saw the obliterated wreck down the shoulder on the opposite side of the road. Not the sedan, but a mid-60s Impala, weathered and weed-choked. And bursting from the shattered windshield, lying spread-eagled on the hood with legs still inside the car, was an aged and decimated human corpse.

  Jazz stared at her feet until she was sure she wouldn’t vomit. “Well,” she said in a choked rasp. “You did find a car.”

  * * *

  They still had to get to the sedan. It was on the road somewhere. Even if there might’ve been a chance at finding something useful in the Impala, Jazz wasn’t about to go looking through it. This time, she let Donatti pick the direction.

  Of course, he decided they had to go past the dead guy.

  As they walked past the wreck, Donatti wore a look she recognized, and wasn’t too happy about. It was an echo of the furious determination Ian took on right before the two of them headed off to destroy one of the evil snake djinn, the Morai—missions there was always a chance they wouldn’t come back from alive.

  “You’re thinking about being a hero, aren’t you?” she said.

  His mouth slashed a firm line. “He’s killing people up here. We have to stop him.”

  “By ourselves?” It wasn’t like she’d been opposed to the whole Morai extermination thing. She’d seen what they were capable of doing, to humans and to other djinn. Plus, they turned into snakes. She hated snakes. Hell, she’d more or less encouraged Donatti to help Ian when it turned out he was the only one who could. But Ian’s magic was a lot stronger and more reliable. Of the few things Donatti could do, he’d only perfected invisibility. None of his spells ever went the way he planned them. “Maybe we should get Ian before we try to take this guy on,” she said.

  He didn’t answer right away, but she could feel the anger radiating from him. Finally, he sighed and said, “I guess you’re right.”

  She offered a sympathetic grimace. “You know, Donatti, I understand how it feels.”

  “What, chicks get penis envy too?”

  She laughed. “Not exactly. I meant...being helpless. Not having what it takes and knowing it. It’s frustrating as hell.”

  “Yeah. Nothing like a case of magic blue balls to get the blood pumping.” He gave her a one-armed hug. “I’m sorry you have to go through this so much. Believe me, if I could give this stuff away, you’d have it.”

  “No, thanks. I like being normal.”

  “Babe, you are anything but normal.”

  “Is that a compliment?”

  “Yeah.” He grinned and rubbed her arm. “It is.”

  They rounded a curve and found the ruined sedan on the shoulder, its crumpled hood nosed against a tree. Broken glass, plastic fragments and snarled bits of metal sprayed across the pavement. The driver’s side door lay on the ground in front of the car, hinges torn and twisted, its window and mirror completely shattered.

  In fact, every bit of glass on the car had been reduced to pieces.

  Trying to ignore the stone weight in her gut, Jazz leaned the poker against the side of the sedan and crawled carefully into the driver’s seat. She grabbed the wheel to steady herself, and felt the tacky residue of what had to be her blood. She’d definitely hit it hard. At least she’d remembered that right.

  The coiled charger cord was still plugged into the lighter socket. With the last faint light dying outside, she couldn’t make out much else beyond shadows. She picked the cord up, already knowing from the non-weight that the phone wasn’t attached any more before she saw the bare jack. It must’ve slid down on the floor somewhere. She hoped.

  “Donatti,” she called. “You have a flashlight in here?”

  “Glove box. There should be a few of those packages of mini-donuts there, too.”

  She glanced back at him. “You’re thinking about food? Now?”

  “Hey, I haven’t eaten since yesterday. I’m starving.”

  Her stomach rumbled suddenly, as though the idea of starving had kicked off a protest in there somewhere. She hadn’t even thought about eating until he mentioned it. Practically salivating, she reached over, popped the compartment open and felt inside. It was empty.

  “Fuck!”

  “What, right now?”

  “Can it, Donatti.” She forced a giggle into a snort. There he went again, making her laugh when she wanted to cry. She backed out and brushed at the debris clinging to her jeans. “There’s nothing in there. The box wasn’t damaged in the crash, but the stuff’s gone.”

  “Oh. That kind of fuck.” Frowning, he circled the sedan and stared at the trunk. “See if this’ll pop?”

  She reached down and pulled the release. There was a heavy clunking sproing, and the trunk eased open a crack.

  Donatti wrenched it open and swore. “Okay, our bags are gone, too. So’s the jack and tire iron. And my gear. Damn it, I’m getting sick of re-buying that pick set.”

  “Gear? You’re supposed to be retired.”

  “I am. I just...like to practice. Keep the skills up.”

  She folded her arms. “How can you practice stealing?”

  “You still drive.”

  “That’s different. And you didn’t answer the question.”

  There was a hollow thump, and Seth appeared on the buckled roof of the car. “Are we having a lover’s spat?” he said. “By all means, don’t let me interrupt.”

  Jazz backed slowly toward Donatti, grabbing the poker to hold behind her as she went. Hopefully he’d keep his mouth shut about the weapon. “We still ignoring him?” she said when she reached him.

  “No. Where’s our shit, mountain man?”

  Seth gave an exaggerated shrug. “Could be anywhere,” he said. “Lots of wild animals around here. Scavengers. Bears, wolves...foxes.”

  “Uh-huh. Every fox needs a cell phone, right?”

  “Is that what you’re trying to find?” Grinning, Seth leaped lightly to the ground. “I thought you might be looking for that interesting little set of tools in the black case. Thief.”

  “Ex-thief,” Donatti said. “Retirement’s great. You should think about retiring from the psycho racket.”

  “Oh, I’m not crazy.” Seth’s gaze fastened on Jazz, and dizziness washed through her. “It gets so cold on the mountain at night.” He moved toward them, not sparing Donatti a second glance. “Come with me, Jazz. I’ll keep you warm. We’ll embrace in front of a roaring fire, you and me. Forever.” In the near-dark, he seemed to glow.

  Lip curled, Jazz brought the poker around and swung it full-force against his skull. He dropped like a rock. “Embrace that, asshole,” she said.

  Donatti coughed. “Whoa. Nice one, babe. Not exactly what I had in mind, but that’ll work.”

  “What did you have in mind, insulting him to death?” She lowered the poker, ran a hand through her hair. “Besides, he was going to change. And probably try to kill you again.” All the djinn started glowing right before they transformed.

  He grinned. “My hero.”

  “Shut up.”

  “Right.” He glanced down at Seth, who hadn’t moved from where he landed. It looked like he wasn’t even breathing—but he was far from dead. Eventually he’d come around and heal himself. And then he’d be really pissed. “Guess we’d better get going before he wakes up,” Donatti said.

  “Uh-huh. And what’s the plan now? We can’t reach Ian, and it’s fifty miles to anything.”

  “Not exactly. There’s one place we can get to.”

  It took a few seconds
to sink in. “You can’t be serious.”

  “Easiest way to catch a fox is in his den.”

  She opened her mouth, closed it. “That might actually be a smart idea.”

  “Yeah. It’s gotta be a fluke. Don’t worry, it won’t happen again.”

  Damn it, why did he have to be so frigging cute? As much as she bashed his constant, often ridiculous jokes, nobody ever made her laugh like he did. For the first time, she actually wished they had made it to the cabin—because right now, she’d be dragging him to the bedroom. If they made it that far. “Okay,” she said. “But there’s two problems. One, I can barely see you now, and it’s going to be pitch black in a few minutes. Don’t know about you, but my night vision’s shot.”

  He cleared his throat. “Well, maybe I can do that flame-ball thing Ian does.”

  I doubt it. Since saying that wouldn’t exactly boost his confidence, she opted for a cheerful tone that fell flat. “Can’t hurt to try.”

  He fell silent. Probably trying to concentrate. After a minute, there was a dim glow that brightened steadily—not floating over his hands, where Ian usually formed a light, but from the front end of the wrecked car.

  Brow furrowed, she circled around and looked. The intact left headlight burned at full strength, cutting a path through the darkness ahead.

  Donatti came up behind her. “Guess my magic’s a little more modern than Ian’s.”

  “Hey, it’s a light.” She grinned at him. “Think you can keep it going if I take it out?”

  “I hope so.”