Page 53 of Hawk (Burnout 3)


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They were on the highway and already out of Rapid City, judging by the flat landscape drifting past. The thunderclouds that had been hovering all day obscured most of the sun, which was hanging low in front of them, just over the horizon. They were headed east, but it would be miles before the next town.

Tildy turned to look at Garrett. She silently tried to gauge his thoughts. She had never really considered him a threat, only someone to be pitied. In fact, if she were being honest, she’d barely thought about Garrett at all, which was why she was here now.

He glanced at her. “This is all your fault, you know,” he told her, confirming her thoughts.

“Those other guys, I’ve asked around about them. They’re not saints; not one of them,” Garrett spat. “They’d accept me. I’m no different than them. Raina, she wants me around. And my folks, they’re trying.” He turned toward her again, a hard steel look in his eyes. “You,” he snarled. “You’re the only thing that’s different.”

Tildy remembered Garrett trying over and over to reconnect with Hawk, the brother of his childhood. How many times had Hawk turned him away or simply not answered his phone?

“Garrett,” she said quietly.

“So, you have to go,” he declared, as though she hadn’t spoken at all. “Once you’re gone, once he’s not trying to impress his little white princess, he’ll come back.”

Tildy fought the panic that was rising inside her. She took another look around the cab of the truck. The door was unlocked, not that it mattered. They were going way too fast to risk jumping. It would be better, safer at least, to try and talk him down, but Tildy was certain that she wasn’t the right person for the job. She spied her knapsack on the floor at her feet.

“Let’s just call him,” she told Garrett and bent down, hand groping for the strap. “Let’s just-”

The motion was a blur. She didn’t really see the hand that shot out toward her, but she felt the splintering crack, as Garrett’s fist connected with the side of her face. The force of the blow slammed Tildy against the passenger door, and the strap of her bag fell from her fingers.

“He’ll choose you!” Garrett cried. “He always chooses you. But if you’re gone, if you’re not around, then there’s no other option.”

He turned away from her, focusing once again on the road. The grassy fields were giving way to scrub plains as they drove further from the city. “It won’t hurt,” he said, more to himself than to her. “I wouldn’t do that. I’m not like that. Just a tap to the back of the head. Quick. You won’t even feel it.”

Tildy didn’t see a gun. It could have been anywhere, possibly in the glove compartment in front of her. There was no way she could reach it if there was. He was too fast. He’d only hit her again or maybe worse. Even if she managed to get her hands on it, she wouldn’t know how to use it.

“Garrett if-”

“Shut up!” he yelled, lifting his fist again. It only hovered near her head as she ducked away from him.

Tildy tore her gaze from him and instead focused on the road. Sunset wasn’t for another hour or so, but it was already pretty dark outside, due to the impending storm. Tildy thought again about jumping, but there was nowhere to go, assuming she didn’t break a leg in the process. Even if she did manage to make it, she knew he would still chase her down.

One drop, then two hit the dirty windshield. Garrett turned on the wipers but mostly managed to just smear the dirt around. Ahead, lightning flashed, just once, but more would follow soon enough.

They rode in silence until Garrett eased the truck off the highway and toward the rock formations that cut a ragged silhouette against the darkening horizon. Tildy took a deep breath to keep the tears at bay. He took them down a dirt fire road where there were no other cars around. She knew, once she got out of the truck, it would be over. They’d find her body- or not- in the scrub that lay just before the sterile canyons.

One tear did fall, and Tildy decided that she had to try. She might not survive- most likely she would not- but she just had to try. She didn’t go for the door; they were still driving too fast. She didn’t go for the glove box either. Instead, she lunged across the seat toward Garrett. She gripped the steering wheel with both hands and pulled it as hard as she could in order to slow the truck down enough to jump.

The tires skidded, dust and rocks flying in all directions. The truck careened wildly and for a moment, tilted as though it would roll. Garrett yanked the wheel back in the other direction with one arm and viciously elbowed her with the other, but Tildy couldn’t afford to let go. The truck spun, even as he let off the accelerator. The front bumper on the driver’s side clipped a large rock outcropping, and Garrett tamped down on the brakes to prevent them from advancing head on into another large boulder.

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