She buried her head in the chenille spread that smelled of fabric softener and after shave. Paige lay there for a time, letting the scents calm her. Finally, she sat up. "I told you before, if you know too much, they'll kill you, just like they'll kill me if they catch me. Now, let me off at the next exit. Please Chris, just do it." She dropped her head into her hands. "I knew this was a mistake."
He took his foot from the throttle and the drone of the engine lowered a notch.
"No! Don't slow down," she warned.
Chris turned his head as far as he could while still keeping an eye on the dark road. "Tracy, come up here so we can talk. It'll be all right, wait and see."
No, you wait, you'll see I was right, she thought, but did as he requested. When you're lying in the street with your blood all around you instead of inside you, you'll say to yourself, gee, I wish I listened to her. Paige leaned her head back and stared, unblinking, at the white dotted line. Miles and miles of white lines mesmerized her. Few headlights appeared, no taillights. It all meant no one to help when the woman in the red sweatshirt and her cohorts finally caught up with them.
"I didn't make out my log back there."
"So?"
"I was supposed to be sleeping. If we get pulled over I'm in violation."
"That's the least of your problems right now. Are you sleepy?"
"I couldn't sleep now if I tried."
"I know the feeling. I've pumped a couple gallons of adrenaline the past few days."
"Okay, let's look at this from their point of view. They're going to think we're in this huge vehicle with nowhere to go but down the highway. People have this impression of a tractor trailer's size. They're surprised when they see us turn or back up into small places. Anyway, let's take the next exit and see if we can hide this thing. We'll..."
"Where do you hide a big yellow monstrosity like this?" she interrupted.
"In a swarm of bumblebees." He moved his foot onto the clutch and downshifted. The engine's tone raised an octave. "Maybe we can discombobulate them by parking somewhere for a few hours."
"So, you finally acknowledge their existence?"
"I don't know what to think, but I also don't want to take any chances - with our safety, or that of my new truck." Chris down shifted again and steered the semi down the off-ramp. The strident sound of the jake brake echoed in the chamber. At the bottom, he squinted out the windshield at the road crossing before them. "I've never been here before. Let's try this way." He swung the big wheel to the right.
In the small village, whose name Paige didn't know, Chris pulled into the dark, shadowed lot of a repair garage. It held mostly cars awaiting service, but near the back were two trucks. He swung into the lot and behind the building. "I'm going to drop the trailer here, then park between those two."
"Sounds like a good plan, but I still think your most logical move would be to drop me off. They won't do anything to you or the truck once I'm gone. All you have to do is tell them I left and didn't say where I was going."
He'd started to open his door, but turned back. "And what then, pray tell, will you do?"
"The same thing I will do somewhere in Virginia, or wherever the hell you said you were headed. I'll get out and find another means of transport to get me where I'm going."
"And where are you going? Have you thought about that?"
"I've done nothing but think about that. And, the answer is I don't know, and even if I did, I certainly wouldn't tell you. Even if you aren't working for them, when they catch up to you and torture you, you won't have anything to tell them."
He laid his lighter on the dash. Ashes dropped from the tip of his cigarette. "Are you planning to run forever? That's what it'll be, you know," he said, with his hand between his crotch and the seat, searching for burning embers.
"What do you suggest I do, go back and face them?"
"Why not go to the authorities?"
She shook her head. "You don't know these people. They have people on their payroll everywhere. And I mean everywhere. They even had the coat check lady at the restaurant where I used to have lunch at with my friends."
"Girl or boy friends?"
Her reply was a hostile snort.
"Sounds like we're talking the mob, here."
When she didn't reply, he shook his head and continued opening his door. "I'll unhitch the trailer and we'll talk about this in a few minutes. Why don't you brew us some coffee? And, I think there are some cookies or something in the cabinet. Relax, it'll be all right."
"Where have I heard that before?" she muttered to the closed door.
As soon as he disappeared, she collected her baggage from the cabinet, moved the handle of the passenger door as slowly as she could, until it snicked open. She stepped onto the dimly lit parking lot noting the slight gray tinge of color in the eastern sky.
Not knowing which way to go, like a rat making its way through a maze, Paige started first left, then right, finally hustling across the parking lot and into the shadows of some overgrown shrubbery at the boundary to the property. She let out the breath she'd been holding and surveyed the area. A lone street light illuminated a span of about two and a half blocks. The roadway was two lanes with a few cars parked intermittently along both sides. Identical single family ranch-type homes on the left indicated this had once been a factory community, complete with tract housing. A few of the homes had newly added garages tucked between house and property line. Across the street, older two-story stuccoed buildings that she assumed were small one-owner businesses.
She strained her eyes to see into the deep shadows, searching for open doors, windows, or alleyways which might provide a temporary haven.
"Tracy. Where the hell are you?" Chris called in a loud whisper from the other side of the parking lot.
Paige worked her way into the shrubbery, turning the suitcase sideways, the branches scratching her forearms and face like a kitten in a litter box. Still as a stone, she waited for him to give up, knowing sooner or later he'd have to, recalling his so-important schedule. Paige listened for signs of his whereabouts, eager to be on her way. A vision flashed into her head, of a small house in this apparently one horse town, with a rose garden and picket fence, of herself in a rocking chair on the porch, living out the remainder of her days quietly tending her flowers and writing her memoirs.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" came Chris' voice directly behind her.
The vision faded like a balloon popped by a pin. She attempted to sprint out of the bushes, but the suitcase was caught in the dense branches.
Now he had her by the arm.
"Let me go," she hissed.
He rotated her toward him. Her shoes tangled in the thick base of the bushes. He grasped both her arms and propped her on her feet on the lumpy, broken pavement. Even in the dim light, she saw the anger in his eyes, and something else - she wasn't sure what. His fingers bit into her upper arms.
"Let me go, you're hurting me."
The fingers relaxed but didn't release her. "Get back in the truck."
The blood rushed to her head and suddenly she felt faint. "Oh God, you are one of them. This whole thing was part of their plan, wasn't it? Gain my confidence, so you can...." Her body slumped and he caught her before she fell.