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I was so, so wrong.
There was no time to worry about it now. We were fifty feet away from the food truck. We had worked together countless times before, and Asher instinctively began spreading out to the right side, while I took the left.
I spotted Brady’s truck in the westbound lane, parked on the shoulder. A moment later I saw him standing next to the edge. “Cover us from there, Brady.”
“Negative,” he said, taking a few steps back. “I’ll be there in a flash.”
I peered over the cement barrier. There was a ten-foot gap between the eastbound and westbound lanes, with at least a fifty foot drop to the ground below.
“You won’t make it,” I insisted.
After knowing him for so long, nothing Brady did should have surprised me. But I was still shocked as he sprinted at the barrier, planted one foot on the top of it, and then hurled himself through the air. He seemed weightless for a moment, legs running through nothing and arms flailing. He wasn’t going to make it. I wascertainof it.
But then he extended his foot, landing it on the eastbound barrier and continuing on this side at a sprint. “I hope one of you got that on camera! That’s going to be on the ESPN Top Ten tomorrow!”
Brady was slightlyaheadof the food truck, and the kidnappers must have seen his acrobatic display. Tires squealed as the food truck took off, slamming between stationary cars and knocking others out of the way.
Asher and I shared a look, then took off at a dead sprint after the truck. We both knew what the other was thinking. No matter what happened, we were going to prioritize rescuing Heather.
Even if it meant sacrificing ourselves.
51
Heather
Amirah’s stalkers had discovered that I was someone else, and Ernesto wasnottaking it well.
“Fuck! FUCK!” he screamed, punching the walls and knocking cookware off their wall hooks. “You’re a liar. You’re awhore. You’re an impostor!”
I closed my eyes and prayed that he wouldn’t lash out with the knife still gripped in his hand.
“You must be wrong,” Oscar said from the driver’s seat. “That has to be Amirah! We saw her on TV, signing autographs!”
“That internet streamertouchedher,” Ernesto growled. “He touchedourAmirah. But this?” He aimed the knife. “This is someone different.”
He yanked the rag out of my mouth. Every instinct I possessed was insisting I scream at the top of my lungs, but I knew they would kill me if I did that.
“Who are you!” Ernesto demanded. His yellow eyes were more crazed than normal, which was saying something.
I didn’t know what to say, so I said the truth. “I’m Heather Hart. I’m an aspiring actor.”
From the front, Oscar shouted, “Why are you posing as Amirah?”
“I’m… I’m not.” I chose my words carefully. It felt like walking through a minefield, where any misstep might mean death. “This dress is similar to hers, I guess. I was on set because I know the director…”
“LIAR!” Ernesto roared, slashing the knife through the air above my head. “You’re wearing theexactsame dress! And her hat! And her glasses!”
“Why would they do this?” Oscar said up front. He sounded panicked. “Do they know? Is this a trap? We fell for it, didn’t we?”
“We have to get rid of her,” Ernesto said.
“Yes!” I said, seizing on the idea. “Get rid of me! Just drop me off on the side of the interstate and I’ll find my way home. I promise I’ll never tell anyone what I saw.”
“We need to kill her,” Oscar suddenly said. “Do it now.”
So much for Oscar being the lesser of two evils.
Ernesto turned toward me with the knife, and I totally came apart.
