by Jolene Perry
“Okay.” Her voice is still shaking, and I know she’s got to be calm to navigate the icy road to the parking lot where we switch to snowmachine.
“You need to drive carefully but quickly, do you understand?”
“Yes.” She sounds a little better. More determined. Probably she just needed someone to believe her. But if someone is following her, why are they still? Why haven’t they done something yet? This makes me anxious on a million different levels because I don’t know what they want from her, but they have to be pretty determined to still be behind two hours later. This also means that whoever is following her will know where she’s at. Though—there are a quite a few cabins out here. She doesn’t automatically have to be at the lodge.
But they’d come here first.
But I don’t even know if this is going to be a big deal.
“I’m leaving right now to go to the far parking lot. It’s where you had your car last time, and where Boz dropped you off this morning. You know where to go?”
“Yes.” She gasps. “Jason? The car followed me on the turnoff.”
“Dana, take another deep breath. You’re okay. It might just be a coincidence. I will be waiting at the end of the parking lot.” No way it’s a coincidence. I grab another loaded magazine for my sidearm, and slide it in my coat. Then put another coat on over it, because Dana isn’t going to have time to suit up at the end. We’re going to have to time this well, and do it fast.
She lets out another long breath. “Okay.”
“You drive to the end. Speed across the parking lot, and just let your car run into the snow bank at the end. Leave everything in your car but your keys. We can go back out for your stuff later. You get out of the car and come straight to me. I’m going to stay on the machine so we can take off quickly. Okay?” I do everything I can to keep my voice quiet and calm, but I’m going to have to get off the phone if there’s any chance of me being at the end of the parking lot when she gets there.
“Okay.”
“You need to carefully put the phone down, pay attention to your driving. Can you see how many people are in the car?” I can’t believe I didn’t think of that sooner.
“Just one.”
“Dana, I will be there. Get out of the car and run toward me. I’ll get us back to the lodge.” This is insane. When Craig said the guy followed her to work, that was one thing. But he’s in jail, so someone else is following her out here. No way that’s a coincidence either.
“Okay. Meet you at the end. Get out with my keys and run.”
“See you in a few.” I hang up, grab my helmet and pull my machine to a start. Now I have to haul ass so I can keep my promise.
I’ve driven this trail so many times I can’t keep count, but I’ve never driven it this fast. There are narrow trails through the wooded areas, and I stand up letting my machine take the brunt of the bumps as I fly through them, hoping no one else is out here today. The moment I hit the first clearing, I grab the throttle to the handle and take off. Normally, the thrill of moving at a hundred miles per hour over the snow is exhilarating, but today it isn’t fast enough.
As I come down the final hill to the parking lot, I see her car just reaching the far end. It takes everything in me to stay where I am, and follow the plan. There are a few scattered trailers in the middle of the lot here, but that’s it. Mid-week is dead.
Just like I told her to, the moment her car hits the parking lot, she hits the gas, and a small beater of a blue Subaru is on her tail.
Fuck.
I unzip both coats I’m wearing, and rest my hand on my gun. I want so bad to meet her at her car, but that would just slow us down. She rams the front of her car into the snow bank, jumps out, and runs for me.
I should have stopped a hair closer.
The blue car slides sideways, nearly running into Dana’s car. Dana’s in stupid heeled boots and slips a few times, but the second I step off this machine, we lose our advantage of getting out of here quick.
Please don’t let them have a gun…
A skinny bleach blonde woman scrambles out of her car, running for Dana, but Dana’s two steps away from me and safely out of reach.
“You better run, bitch!” the woman yells. “That’s my fiancé you’re fucking with. We have two kids. I can’t support them without him. We’re going to starve because of you, you stupid nosy bitch. He didn’t do anything wrong. That guy was a loser asshole. Nobody’s going to miss him.”
Dana glances over her shoulder as she jumps onto the back of my machine. I let go of the gun and grab the throttle as Dana’s arms grasp me around the waist. The woman’s coming toward us fast, but we speed away. Dana buries her face in my back, and tightens her arms around me. I need to get far enough away that if she is armed, she won’t have a chance of hitting us.
When Dana starts shaking behind me enough that I feel it through two coats, and we’re surrounded by trees, I stop. The silence after the screaming and noise of the machine feels empty.
“You okay?” I ask as I pull off my helmet.
Dana laughs hysterically mixed with sobs as tears stream down her face. “I don’t know.”
“You must be freezing.” I’d be freezing, and she’s shivering all over—probably as much from fear as cold. All the reasons I was determined to hate her start to dissolve as she continues to shake.
“I brought you a coat.” I take off both coats, and hand her the one I had closest to me, knowing it’ll be warmer. Her eyes close briefly as she pulls it on.
“Thanks.” She looks down, her teeth chatter, and my heart aches a little for what she just went through. Part of my big-brother thing must be kicking in again because I step toward her and pull her into my chest.
She’s almost as tall as me, but still manages to feel like almost nothing in my arms.
Dana cries against me for a few moments before I realize we’re not even friends, and we’re in this really weird sort of…intimate situation.
“I’m glad you called. That could have been a much worse situation,” I say quietly as I drop my arms and brush my palms together.
“She drove all that way just to yell?” Dana pulls away from me, her face red and blotchy.
“I don’t know.” I shake my head and hand Dana my helmet. “Ready?”
She climbs on behind me, and I try not to notice how strong her arms feel around my waist, or how good her long legs feel when they squeeze against mine to hold on. The drive back to the lodge takes a lot less time than I’d like.
We step inside, and I have no idea what to say. Anything I tell her right now will make her think I like her more than I do, or will make me sound like a dad or a big brother, and I’m neither.
“Thank you again.” Her eyes dart around as she hands my coat back to me.
My hand brushes hers as I take the coat, and sends a shock through me.
No. Definitely no. I do not need that to be happening. And definitely not with her.
It’s just been too long. That’s all.
I open my mouth to say something, but instead walk through the kitchen and into my room. Dana’s here and she’s safe. And I need to be alone.
Instead of relaxing, I get a little more pissed, and finally call Craig.
The moment he answers, I start in. “Did you or did you not tell me she should be up here for her safety?”
“What?”
“She was followed, asshole. Didn’t she call you when she got back?” I’m actually way too glad that she didn’t.
“No.” He’s quiet.
“I had to haul ass out to the parking lot, and some crazy bleach-blonde woman was screaming. We’re all lucky she wasn’t packing.” I’m pacing in my apartment, from my bed, past the fireplace to the bathroom and then back.
“I wasn’t expecting that.”
“No, shit.” I decide I need a beer and head to the kitchen. “Maybe next time she calls you with a problem, you’ll listen, huh?”
I sound like a woman. A mom scold
ing. I shouldn’t be. If Dana’s pissed at Craig then maybe whatever ridiculous thing is between them will go away. My cousin deserves better. This bites. I snatch a Mississippi Mud from the back of the fridge and pop it open.
“I really appreciate it, Jason.”
“Yeah. Well.” I lean against the counter, realizing there’s nothing he could say that would make me less angry.
“I don’t think I’m going to make it out this week, so…”
“So, what?” I snap.
“Maybe you could pass that on? To Dana?”
“Are you fucking serious?” He wants me to pass bad news on to his girlfriend when his wife is my family?
Instead of waiting for his answer, I hang up. And this is when I realize Dana’s in the room.
“Hey.” I don’t make eye contact because she has that vulnerable girl thing happening right now that gets me every time. Justine’s pulled I don’t even know how much shit over on me by using that look. Now, I’m pretty sure Dana’s not trying to use this look for anything, because I think it’s real, but I’m also pretty sure that means I’m even more likely to make an ass out of myself in some way.
Her long hair hangs down around her slim face, and her huge doe-eyes are still watery and staring.
“Thanks for standing up for me. I don’t usually panic like that.” She pulls her sweater more tightly around her.
“You were good to call, I just…” Damn. I need food. I need to get away from this girl. Maybe I should go to Boz’s and light up tonight. That would be good. His weed is legendary. If I were a pothead, I’d be sunk living next door to him.
Dana’s phone rings, and she stares at it for a moment before tucking it back in her pocket.
“Not going to get that?” I gesture with my beer.
She shakes her head, her hazel eyes still rimmed with red.
“I was about to make a massive plate of nachos. Want some?” I’m being nice again. This isn’t good. I can’t be friends with a girl who makes my gut twist when she smiles, which she’s doing right now.
“I’d love some.”
I’m fucked, and have to find a really nice way of getting Dana home where she belongs because I can’t like someone who has affairs, normally drives BMWs and doesn’t live in this state.
DANA
Rory and the “J” Boys.
When I check email after stuffing myself with nachos, and actually getting Jason to laugh twice during our conversation last night, I finally have something from the guys working on my house. The kitchen should be done in days. After I click out of email I look over my desktop and see a file called Jason’s writing. I can’t believe I forgot about that. Craig has taken me over more than I want to admit. Anyway, it was hard getting this file from Jason’s computer so I have to check it out. I open it and scroll through the contents, then click on one that says – MARCO POLO – complete.
I start to read. It’s good. It’s like a hip Indiana Jones kind of book. More like National Treasure but set in Spain. I’m completely lost in the story and before I know it, it’s midnight. I’m in shock that Jason wrote something like this. I turn off my computer, and lay on my back in the dark, thinking about the story. I want to know how this guy is going to escape. I need to know if he finds the girl he’d rescued—the one with the crazy red hair. I’m awake for long enough that I contemplate turning my computer back on, but I don’t. I shuffle around until I find a comfortable spot for my ribs and go to sleep.
Snow falls all night. In the morning I come downstairs and the sun has turned everything I can see into some magical looking winter wonderland. I’m officially in the cabin from the snow globe I had as a kid, and instead of feeling alone in this vast wilderness, an overwhelming sense of home floods me.
The familiar smell of coffee helps me relax as I sit at my favorite table to enjoy the view. The white, blanketed valley spreads out below and the hills disappear slowly off in the distance. I immediately want to get my camera.
Jason stumbles out of his apartment, rubbing his eyes.
“Wow. Does this just take your breath away?” I ask.
His eyes are still half-closed as he reaches around in a cabinet for a mug.
I start to tell him how much I love his book, but then remember that I don’t have permission to be reading it and stop myself. There’s a twinge of guilt for stealing it, but it’s a good read. And anyway, he wasn’t being all that nice at the time. I’m also curious to see if Jason and I are talking now.
“Gets me every time.” He smiles, his eyes still only half open. After his first sip he starts to look human again. “Wanna go for a ride?”
Suddenly the peaceful landscape doesn’t look so peaceful. Riding behind Craig and looking at the snow from inside the lodge is one thing—driving a machine is another.
He must sense my hesitation and sits across from me. At the same table. Guess whatever sort of truce we came to yesterday is still in effect.
“Have you ever ridden a motorcycle?” He sits across from me and takes another long drink.
“Yeah.” I smile. The last time had been a while ago. That was my one attempt at dating a bad boy. It’s kind of funny now, he really wasn’t that bad. He was a spoiled kid who got good grades and spent all his allowance on trying to play the part of a bad ass.
I decided after six years at Northwestern that the most dangerous ones were the boys who looked exactly like what you should bring home to meet the parents. Those boys thought they could take whatever they wanted. A pang hits my chest as Clive’s face comes up. I wonder when the awful used feeling that comes with remembering him will go away. If ever.
“You still here, Dana? Or did my question take you somewhere else?” He’s not annoyed. He’s smiling. Guess we’re talking and might be something like friends. That simple realization makes me know how hard it’s been to have him so disapproving.
“Somewhere else,” I answer honestly.
“When you get on the machine, think of it like a motorcycle, especially on a day like today. The snow is deep. There are no tracks out there, which means this weekend is going to be insane, so it’s best if we ride while we can.” He plays with the ends of his beard, and I really wish I could hack it all off.
“Okay.” I’m still a little uncertain about the snowmachines, but I’m learning that Jason is someone I can trust—at least I know where I stand with him.
“Don’t worry. I’ll give you the nice machine, and you can lead. I’ll be able to find our way back.”
I can do this, right? “Yeah, I… Okay.” Better than sitting around in the lodge for another day of near quiet.
I have a leg on either side of the snowmachine seat, and I’m feeling weird about sitting down, but do anyway. Okay. Sort of like a motorcycle, but a lot wider, and on the snow. I can do this. I think.
“This was supposed to be my wife’s. It’s practically brand new. The snow’s deep so you’ll have to stand up to turn. Just play around with it. This is supposed to be fun.” He reaches into his pocket. “I also have music for you.”
“Music?”
“Yeah. To help you channel your best badass self. It’ll help. Trust me.” He nods as I take the iPod from him.
I raise an eyebrow as I sling my large camera over my shoulder.
“What’s that?” He points to my bag.
“Camera.”
His head tilts to the side. “I didn’t know you were into that.”
I shrug. I don’t do it much, and I generally don’t take pictures in front of people I know. It’s my creative outlet. Private.
He nods once, which I’m learning is a Jason thing, and then gestures toward me. “Headphones, helmet, and I’ll start you up.”
“Okay.” I’m smiling now, and it’s real and feels amazing. The theme song from The Bourne Identity comes on, and I grin wider. Helmet’s on. Machine is on. I’m ready.
Jason gives me a thumbs-up and even though I feel like a total dork doing it, I give him one back.
I grasp the handlebars, and my thumb squeezes the gas, rocketing me down the hill. The speed is exhilarating—especially now that I’m in control and not riding behind anyone. I stand up like Jason said to do and just drive. I go as fast or as slow as I want to, and every time I shift my weight, even a little, the machine responds and lifts up on one side or the other, turning slightly.
Even after thirty minutes or so of riding, I’ve seen no one else. The snow is gleaming white and sparkling in every direction. Each branch on each tree is weighed down and covered, but the open areas are much wider than the small spots of trees.
I decide that the machine feels almost like riding a jet ski, but softer like I’m driving over pillows or clouds. The feeling is like nothing I’ve done, and I start to get why all these people drive so far to ride for the weekends.
I start to get a little braver and use my weight to tilt the machine up on its side. Snow flies out behind me. Even I know from on top of the machine it looks cool. I start swinging the machine back and forth, spraying snow out in alternating directions. The farther I lean, the higher the snow flies and the more exciting it is. James Bond is playing in the background now. Jason’s right, I do feel like a badass.
I throw my weight again to tilt the snowmachine and give it some gas. It turns faster than I’m expecting, and I fall off into the snow. The snow is soft and deep and my landing is nothing. The machine rights itself and stops about ten feet away from where I landed. I start to get up and realize I’m tired and sweating, and ten feet in deep snow is a long ways to walk. Jason stops next to my machine, turns them both off and takes off his helmet.
“You’re really good.” He smiles at me appreciatively. “I’m exhausted.” He wipes his forehead with the back of his glove.
“Must be the music.” I laugh, feeling better and more relaxed than I have since... well, sometime before my accident. I take off my helmet. Walking in this stuff is no easy task, and breathing hard inside a facemask isn’t fun.
“This is great, isn’t it?”
