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“Unfortunately, the two following us will have the same map,” he grumbled, easing around a car that slowed and pulled off to the side of the road. “But five exit options gives us an edge. They’ve got tae check out every campground, scenic pull-off and side road. All we have tae do is stay out o’ their way.”
“Oh, easy-peasy, then,” Tait quipped, giving him an exasperated look before turning back to the map. “I think we should turn left at Madison junction and make the circle. They’ll expect us to go right. That’s the shortest route south.”
“Aye. Watch for the signs, then.”
Tait settled back in her seat. “I can do that. It’s the shotgun rider’s job to keep one eye looking forward for signs, and one eye looking back for trouble.”
“Shotgun rider?” he queried.
“Kind of a reference to the Old West,” she replied. “Part lookout, part backup for the driver.”
“Sounds like an interesting partnership,” he said, spotting a cluster of cars and animal watchers similar to the one they’d run into yesterday. Pretty much near this same meadow. “Damn. I was afraid of this.”
Tait leaned forward. “Oh, no. Isn’t there any way through them? Maybe if I get out and ask them to—”
“And draw everyone’s attention tae ye? Nae!”
Frowning, Tait absently rubbed her locket between her fingers, sliding it back and forth on the tiny chain as she focused on the cars and spaces in front of them. “Move,” she muttered to the car ahead, as if she could magically make it happen.
If only she could, Marcus sighed, as a loud commotion began not far behind them.
“What’s that?” Tait asked, terror in her eyes as she turned for a better look.
Someone back there was certainly making something happen. They were using their horn, their voices and—when he was able to get a good look—even their green Camaro, to urge people out of the way.
“Marcus?!”Tait shrieked.
“Aye, lass,” he hissed. “I see ’em.”
Chapter 9
Desperate, Marcus mimicked the actions of the men behind them and laid on his horn, scattering what few animals remained. Inching forward to force people to move, he garnered obscene words and gestures from drivers and sightseers alike.
Angry shouts and people pounding on their windows and the sides of the van had Tait cringing in her seat.
“Hold on, lass,” Marcus stated. “We’re almost free.”
Wide-eyed and white-faced, Tait kept her eyes on her mirror and the chaos behind them. “Hurry, Marcus.Please hurry!”
“If that guy will get back in his car and get out o’ the way, I can,” he growled.
“That’s him!” Tait cried, whirling to look out the back. “That’s Elliot! The shorter one! Marcus! He’s…he’s out of the car, coming this way.”
Sheer terror distorted her face, and the sound she made as she futilely scanned the van for a hiding place sounded like a trapped animal.
Marcus grabbed her arm and shoved her to the floor. “Get down!” he ordered. Laying on his horn again, he edged forward, tapping the bumper of the vehicle in front of him. He’d push the car out of the way if he had to.
Rolling down his window, he shouted at the old man ambling toward the car. “Get out o’ the way!”
The old man opened his door but stopped to shake his cane at Marcus and say something unintelligible.
Hating the necessity to hassle versus help an elder, Marcus nudged the car, rocking it.
“Hurry.Hurry,” Tait whimpered, her eyes glued to the rear window.
Bending to get in his car, the old man dropped his cane.
Marcus was willing to damage the car, but he couldnae push it out of the way wi’out harming the old man.
