by DJ Erfert
“Are you going to tell me what I saw?” Johnny yelled, his demanding question coming out as one long word. He pulled over to the far left lane and sped by two cars. “And tell me why I’m not dead?”
“I’ll tell you everything, I swear.” Lucy popped the plastic lid off the canister with her thumb and slid the metal roll of 35mm film onto the palm of her hand. “I just—I just can’t do it right now.” After another calming breath, anger began to fill in the emotional cracks of her fear. She didn’t know which was worse. Both could lead her to be careless.
“We’re being chased!” Johnny hit the steering wheel with the heel of his hand.
Turning around in her seat, Lucy checked out the back window at the headlights keeping pace several car lengths behind. “Yeah, that would be the scumbags.” Using her handy tool, she had the metal end-cap off the protective cover in a single heartbeat. The inch-wide acetate coiled out into the air from her fingers.
“Is that film?”
“Yeah—”
“You just over-exposed it.”
Lucy reached up and punched on the two interior lights in front of the rearview mirror. “Not enough yet.” Holding onto the ends, she slowly slid the three-foot long strip of film across both lights—twice. “This is what they want. I’m going to give it to them, but that doesn’t mean they’re going to like what they get.” She dropped the strip to her lap and tugged her hair over her shoulder. “I don’t want them to see what’s on this stupid film.”
“Did you take those pictures?”
“No, I didn’t. A field agent took them. I just deliver them. I don’t know what’s on them, and I don’t care, either.”
Johnny exhaled loudly. “And now you’ll never know.”
“That’s fine with me.” Lucy quickly braided her long hair with swift, knowledgeable strokes of her fingers.
“What are you going to do?”
He sounded worried. Lucy was too, but her drastic measure seemed necessary for their survival.
“I’m going to throw this worthless piece of garbage at their windshield,” she said as she stuffed her braid down the back of her blouse. “Odds are, they’ll stop to look for it and we can get away without—” She took a deep breath and blew it out, pushing aside the trepidation and concentrating on her plan.
“Without us dying?”
She grabbed the film, turned around on the seat, and put her knees close to the door. “That’s what I’m counting on.” Lucy wedged the heel of her boot under the seat to keep from falling out of the window, but before she pressed the button to lower the glass, she stared at Johnny from over her shoulder. His knuckles were bloodless, gripping the steering wheel too tightly. If his brows were any closer together, they’d be one crooked line.
There wasn’t anything she could do or say that could change the way he was feeling at the moment. If she let her guard down again, she’d be blinded by those same feelings. But if they didn’t get hurt—or killed—she would jump through whatever hoops that would get them away safely.
“Johnny, please give me a smooth ride.”
“I promise, Lucy. Be careful.”
Grabbing the handhold over the door, she nodded. “I’ll try.” She punched the window control and cringed at the thunderous blast of wind that cycloned into the truck as the glass disappeared into the door. Lucy took another breath before stretching out the open window.
From her dangerous vantage point, she could see the dark SUV click on its bright headlights, illuminating her in white light. She brought her arm up and let the wind rip and thrash at the length of film in her hand for only a moment before she let it loose. It vanished into the grill of their Suburban. They started skidding, but the driver kept control well enough to not fishtail into the other lane of traffic as he slowed to a stop on the fast lane’s shoulder.
“Yes, yes, yes!” Lucy shouted into the night air. For good measure, she added, “I hope you choke on it. Now leave us alone!” The violent wind had dislodged her hair from her shirt. The long braid whipped along side her head, slowly coming undone as she gazed around at the other cars on the freeway. They hadn’t crashed into anyone. There hadn’t been an explosion. They didn’t die. “It’s been changed,” she yelled to no one in particular. Johnny knocked her leg, and she remembered they weren’t completely out of danger yet. Another surge of panic ran through her chest.
Lucy touched the door with her hand and began to lean down, but the truck suddenly swerved to the right and she struck the back of her head before she had cleared the doorframe. Brilliant lights burst in front of her eyes as she slumped over the door. Lucy barely heard Johnny yelling at her through the high-pitched whine in her ears. Her ability to respond seemed limited to groping for the back of her skull. A moment later she felt herself being propelled backward, down onto the cramped floorboard.
Leaning against the seat with her shoulder, she felt the icy reminder of her weakness rush through her blood in short, intense waves, growing stronger with every heartbeat. Lucy knew she only had moments before she would be unconscious. They weren’t safe yet. If they stopped now, the agents would find them. With her hand against her head, she said with a groan, “Hide … us!” Feeling Johnny’s strong hand tighten around her arm, she let the coldness wash away her pain.
Six
“You’re okay. We’re safe.”
Johnny’s voice felt warm in her ear. It comforted her. Lucy opened her eyes but couldn’t see much in the darkness. She felt a soft restraint when she tried to lift her hand. A blanket was covering her, keeping her warm, yet the back of her head still felt icy cold through her intense headache. She wasn’t on the floorboard any longer. As hard as Lucy tried, she couldn’t remember crawling onto the seat.
“Where—” She tried to sit up, but he stopped her.
“Stay still.”
“I’m okay,” Lucy insisted, pushing away the cover.
Johnny had his hand on her shoulder, pressing her down. “That’s not entirely true. You have a concussion.”
Lucy touched her forehead. “Why is it so dark?” She felt his warm face against her cheek.
“It could be because you told me to hide, and I took that literally.”
He smelled good, a mixture of faded aftershave and sweat. “Where are we?” She touched the back of her head. Johnny’s hand held an ice pack underneath her hair.
“I took the closest exit. We’re parked behind a vacant 7-Eleven.”
Lucy stiffened. “How long have I been unconscious?” A moment later his watch lit up, illuminating the interior of the pickup with the tiny dial.
“Ten minutes.”
“Oh,” Lucy moaned. “I’ve never been out that long before.” The truck went dark again, but only momentarily. He opened the glove box and let the small bulb give them subdued lighting. She could clearly see the worry in the shadows of his face.
“What are you saying? I thought you said you’ve never fainted.” He lifted her chin and used a penlight from his shirt pocket to examine her eyes. “Lucy, have you told me the truth about anything since we’ve met?”
She hesitated. Her memory dulled at what conversations they’d had over the past few hours they’d been together, where one or the other hadn’t been asleep or otherwise unconscious. “I … I can’t remember.” His hand slid around her neck, propping up the ice pack.
“I need to take you to a hospital—”
“No,” Lucy said quickly. “I can’t. It’s too dangerous for me.”
“Well, we can’t hide behind this building all night. At some point an observant cop is going to ask us why we’re here.”
“Take me home. I’m not really hungry anymore,” Lucy said with a sigh.
Johnny flipped the glove box closed before he moved over and started the truck, stopping only long enough to check his phone when it beeped. Lucy noticed that he didn’t answer it again. She relaxed into the seat, pulling the blanket up around her shoulders, and closed her eyes.
“Keep you
r eyes open.”
It might’ve been early evening, but she felt exhaustion envelop her like a heavy fog. “I’m tired. Why can’t I sleep until you get me back to my hotel?”
“If you fall asleep, I’ll drive you straight to the emergency room.”
“That’s a threat,” Lucy said as she sat up straighter.
“Yes, it is,” Johnny said with his voice very low. “You have a head injury. I need you to stay awake and talk to me. I need to hear your voice to make sure you aren’t slurring your words and that you make sense. I need to make sure you aren’t bleeding into your brain.”
Lucy groaned. “For how long?”
Johnny sighed. “Three hours, at least.”
Lucy groaned again.
“Are you in worse pain?” Johnny asked as he clicked on the interior light. He glanced at her as he drove through city traffic. “Or are you just complaining?”
The ice pack slid down onto her neck. “I think I’m allowed. You promised me a smooth ride. Instead I got clobbered.”
“Yeah, I’m sorry about that. I was paying too much attention to you and not enough to the traffic in front of me. I had to swerve to avoid hitting a car.” Johnny reached over and touched her leg. “I’m just glad you didn’t fall out the window.”
“You pulled me in.”
“Yeah.”
Lucy grasped his strong hand. “I don’t mean to sound ungrateful.”
“I don’t think that at all.” Johnny wove his fingers in with hers. “I think you’re hurt, but I hope you’re well enough to explain …”
Lucy waited for him to finish, but he let his voice drift away. Their dinner would have been the backdrop of a serious conversation. Now he would have to ingest the hotel’s crappy food while she tried to tell him something so implausible sometimes she didn’t believe it.
But then again, he knew about being shot on the staircase and on the freeway. How he knew, and what he saw, she had to find out. Lucy wished her head didn’t hurt so badly. The pain hampered her ability to think clearly.
But she knew enough to get around town. “This isn’t the way back to my hotel.”
Johnny nodded. “That’s right. I’m taking you to my apartment where I can take care of you.” He let go of her hand. “It’s a lot more comfortable—and closer—than your hotel. I don’t want you to be alone tonight.”
Leaning her cheek against the headrest, Lucy sighed. “I guess I can’t talk you out of this?”
“No.”
“I didn’t think so.”
“Do you know what day this is?”
“It’s Christmas.”
“Answer me!”
“It’s Thursday,” Lucy sniped. “All right?”
They’d been driving for less than fifteen minutes before they entered an apartment complex consisting of several rows of duplexes set in between lush green landscaping. The narrow roads threading around the large buildings had head-jarring speed bumps every few car lengths. The first concrete barricade Johnny ran over drove Lucy to sit completely upright.
“Ow,” Lucy whined. “Go slower.”
Johnny patted her leg. “I practically crawled over it.” He stopped the truck and asked, “Do you want me to carry you the rest of the way?”
The light from a streetlamp shone in through the windshield. His crooked grin irritated her. “No!” Lucy stiffened her back. “I’m fine.”
“Right,” he muttered. “I forgot. You’re always fine.”
“I didn’t say that.”
He prodded the truck into a forward motion again. “Then stop lying to me.”
She slumped against the seat. “I can’t help it.”
“Is it me? Is it because you don’t trust me?”
Lucy almost shook her head, but thought better of it. “No, that’s not it.”
Johnny touched a remote control on his visor. A garage door began to open, and a light automatically came on by the inside door. His pickup barely fit—there were boxes stuffed into the other bay of the double-car garage, the majority of which had writing on them. Lucy could read the date on some of them, and her heart went out to the man helping her. They were dated from eight years ago, from his divorce.
Johnny killed the engine. “Don’t get out. Wait for me to come around and get you.”
“What am I? An invalid?” Lucy muttered as he slammed his door. She tossed aside the blanket and opened her door. The ice pack was no longer cold, so she left it. She couldn’t understand why Johnny started running around the front of the truck as she slid off the seat.
When he reached her, he grabbed her around her waist and clutched her to his body. “I told you to wait for me.”
His obviously angry tone set Lucy off. Her temper flared. “I’ve been getting along for a very long time without you. I think I can get out of a truck by myself.” As soon as the words left her mouth, she regretted the scornful way she’d said them.
He let her go and stepped back. “Okay,” Johnny said with a softened voice. Turning, he walked ahead and hit the garage remote on the wall before going through the doorway into the apartment, leaving Lucy to follow.
What was wrong with her? Lucy’s emotions fluxed into anxiety and peaked into anger so suddenly and without explanation, she had to deliberately employ her seldom-used calming techniques she had learned in her tai chi classes.
She got to the door and caught it before it closed—and then noticed her strength had somehow stayed inside the pickup. Her knees decided to go on strike, and Lucy had no other choice but to lean against the door jam, sit on the floor, and try to keep the door from banging into her shin.
“Lucy—” Johnny pushed the door away and stepped over her legs. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left you alone.” He knelt down beside her. “Are you dizzy?”
“No.”
“Lucy—”
“I mean it,” Lucy said as she grabbed the front of his shirt, ashamed at showing weakness. “I’m just—my legs felt like marshmallows.” He took out his penlight, lifted her chin, and examined her eyes carefully.
“Can you feel your toes?”
“Huh?”
He slid the penlight into his pocket before he lifted her foot and pulled off the boot. Her sock came off next. “Do you feel any numbness?”
Lucy hadn’t noticed how tired her feet were until Johnny began to massage her toes. She didn’t answer his question right away, knowing that if she said she could feel his strong fingers melting away the tension in the muscles, he would stop. She closed her eyes and let the pleasing sensation wash over her, sighing softly when he pushed his thumb slowly along the arch. However long he continued to examine her foot for numbness, Lucy didn’t know. All she knew was that it didn’t last nearly long enough. When he stopped, she said, “Maybe you should check my other foot—just in case.”
She might have believed he was annoyed if it hadn’t been for the surreptitious smile he wore on his lips. He repeated the same procedure with her other foot, maybe a little slower, a little more deliberately. Lucy accepted the kindness with her eyes closed, moaned every time he moved his fingers to a new spot.
“Don’t fall asleep,” Johnny said.
“I’m not,” Lucy said quietly. “I can’t lay my head back, remember?”
“Yeah, I remember.” He set her foot down and leaned closer. “How are you feeling now?”
Her head didn’t bother her as much with Johnny’s touch to concentrate on, but now Lucy thought her headache would leak out her ears. “My head hurts.”
“Do you want to try to stand up?”
Lucy ran her hand up Johnny’s shoulder and sank her fingers into his shirt. “Okay.” With his arm around her waist, she stood on her own two relaxed feet. “I’m good.”
“Do you want me to let you go?”
“I think I can make it to your couch.” Lucy peeked around the doorway into the living room where the light was on. “Really, I think I’m okay.”
Johnny released her, stepping back on
ly an arms length away. He stayed next to her as she walked unsteadily through the small kitchen and into the living room. The white walls were bare save for a clock in the shape of a fire hydrant. “Cute,” she whispered. A couch was pushed up against the longest wall, with an over-stuffed recliner near the end of it and a coffee table in front. On the opposite end of the room was a large flat-screened TV on a low-rise cabinet. A couple of mismatched lamps rounded out the sparse décor. Very basic. Very male.
Lucy sat on the sofa, lifted her handbag off over her head, and set it down on the table in front of her. Johnny had disappeared again. Looking around, she didn’t find a throw pillow or anything else to lie on. She hoped he didn’t expect her to sit up for hours. At least the remote control sat on the coffee table, well within reach. She could find something on the History channel and keep her mind occupied.
“Here, put these on,” Johnny said when he came back out. He had clothes in his hand, along with a couple of pillows and a blanket.
“What are these for?” Lucy took the dark blue t-shirt from his hand and a pair of pajama bottoms with tiny red fire engines covering the entire soft fabric. He tossed the pillows and blanket on the end of the couch before kneeling down in front of her.
“I want you to be comfortable,” he said with a grin. “And these tight jeans, as beautiful as they look on you, are just too restrictive to sleep in.” Johnny reached around her waist and he deftly removed her holster and gun from the waistband. He set them on the coffee table next to the handbag. “Now, I’m going to change out of my uniform and take a shower. That should give you plenty of time to change your clothes in privacy. Then I’ll make some dinner.”
Feeling overwhelmed at blatantly being told what to do, Lucy said, “I told you I’m not hungry.”
“Well, I am.” He went into the bedroom and shut the door behind him.
