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The pickup pulled to the roadway. There was a stop sign, but around here, most people just roll up, glance around, and pull out, and that's exactly what he was going to do until I said, "Sam! Your ID. Do you have it?"
He stopped. She checked her pockets and I checked mine, bouncing in our seats, hoping to cover any other movement as the guys got in the truck bed.
"I think you left it inside," the man said. "It wouldn't be any good anyway."
"I guess you're right." Sam sighed, as if resigned to the loss.
He pulled out onto the road and turned north.
"Um, isn't the town south?" I said.
"Southwest, actually. This is quicker."
He pulled onto the first side road--little more than a rutted trail.
"Are you sure you should take this?" I said. "Your truck looks really new."
He laughed. "That's what trucks are for, hon. No sense buying a four-by-four if you don't plan to go off-road. Just hold tight. We'll be there before you know it."
He had no idea where this road led. That was obvious as he drove along, leaning forward, straining to see. Was he looking for a place to pull over?
I swallowed a bubble of panic. I knew this might be what he had in mind. The guys were in the back. Everything was okay.
He turned off onto another path.
"Um, I don't think this is a road," I said.
"Sure it is. It comes out at--"
The truck lurched a couple of times ... as he surreptitiously tapped the brakes.
"Uh-oh," he said. "Come on. Please don't--"
A sudden stop had us all hitting our seat belts.
"What happened?" I said.
He shook his head and cranked the engine, making it whine. He pretended to hit the gas, muttering, "Come on, come on." Then he swore when nothing happened.
"Can you fix it?" Sam asked.
"I can try. Got my tools in the back."
"Great!" we said in unison.
He got out. We did the same. I stood beside Sam and she grinned at me. The man reached for the back door on the truck topper. As I braced for the cry of surprise, I couldn't help grinning myself. We were about to have transportation. And this time, I wouldn't feel bad about taking it.
Only there was no cry of surprise. No scrabbling of claws. No shout from Daniel or Corey. The back was empty. The guys hadn't made it in.
"Run!" I whispered.
I dove into the forest. That was instinct for me--avoid open areas, take refuge in dense woods. I heard Sam's running feet. But there was no crashing of undergrowth behind me. I looked over my shoulder to see her racing along the open trail.
A shot fired. A rifle shot. Grow up in the forest, and you recognize that sound the way an inner-city kid recognizes pistol fire.
"Stop or I shoot again," the man said. His voice had changed. Not calm and jocular now.
I looked around frantically.
