The Pit Stop [https://cdn.midjourney.com/f1b9e7ab-bbf0-449d-a0e8-28fe55fff9df/0_3.webp]
Kennedy…
“I think we could go faster.” Kennedy tapped her fingers on the truck’s arm rest, keeping nervous time with the music coming from the radio.
“I think I’d rather not get pulled over,” David said.
A pang shot through her chest as she remembered spinning through the air and slamming against the supplies they’d packed into the backseat. They’d been trying to avoid the thugs from the mountain. Her seatbelt had saved her. She still had lingering bruises. “I can’t believe Nan and Mom are doing this. Could they be any more stubborn?”
He glanced over at her with both of his eyebrows raised and pursed his lips briefly.
“Do you have something to say?”
Smiling, David shook his head no.
*
Nana…
A tall stranger’s shadow fell across her lap, and Nana used the side of her hand to slam down the lock toggle on her car’s door. Mary Lynn’s door lock engaged. She was grateful she hadn’t had her window cracked open. On the news, there were regular stories about the dangers found at rest-stops. Nana fumbled to get her keys in her grip between her knuckles.
“Mam. Are you all right? I saw you spin three sixty on the way in.” The man tugged off his helmet.
In her purse, she had mace, she was pretty sure, somewhere at the bottom. Under her breath, she cursed herself for placing her pocketbook on the floorboard behind her seat.
“Are you having a stroke? You were swerving before you caught the lip in the turnoff.”
Nan held up her keys threateningly, with her house keys spiking from her fist. “Get away from my car, or I’m calling the police. My husband is in the restroom, but he will be right back.”
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The big man looked toward the walkway where Mary Lynn was limping toward the women’s toilet. “If that is your husband, they might prefer that you use different pronouns.” He took a step back from the vehicle, an amused grin touched his lips before he suppressed it. “Watch yourself on the road. You are lucky you didn’t pop that back right tire. Slow down a little when you are approaching an off ramp.”
“How I drive is none of your business.”
“Yes mam, I suppose it’s not.” He tucked his helmet under his arm. “Be safe out there.”
Inside the vehicle, Nana trembled. He moved like a hunter as he walked away, with a lean, broad back, and muscular legs. He was young enough to be her grandson, wearing leather to keep himself safe on the road. When he didn’t look back at her, she relaxed a little.
*
Rig…
Rig held his phone to his ear as he pushed coins into the snack machine. “Yeah, I know I wasn’t supposed to speak to them, but I had to check on the grandma. She spun that fucking car like it was a ride at the fair. I don’t think either of them should be driving. Can’t I just make them stop?”
The voice on the line, Ansel, his annoying older brother, insisted that he shouldn’t make any further contact.
Rig cared little for following rules. “I figured you’d be happy that I caught up with the rogue grannies.”
He pushed 7B and a bag of corn chips fell to the bottom of the machine. “Yeah, I know.” Rig hated being on watch. What he liked to do was hunt. This was not the job for him. “Listen, Ansel, is this a punishment? Did I do something? A bean counter could follow these two. Who am I protecting them from? Can’t human cops keep the internet weirdos at bay?” As Rig listened, he tore open the bag and upended it, taking in calories while he could. His brother had given him no time to get supplies for the trip.
On his way here, he’d hit past 100 trying to catch up with these two. Now that he was trailing them, he’d slowed down to a turtle pace. Rig would follow the instructions he’d been given, but he didn’t like any of them. He wasn’t good at being a shadow. Unlike his older brother, Rig had no ability to make himself invisible in a crowd. He wiped the back of his mouth with his gloved hand and out of the corner of his eye, saw the crippled lady limp back toward the car. After a quick swig of tea, he said, “I think what we need to worry about is who or what they are going to kill before they get to their destination.”
Rig spun the cap back on his bottle. “I gotta let you go. They are leaving. I’ll fall back a bit since I spoke to them. I’ll let you know when and where we stop.” He threw his trash in the bin. “And Ansel, don’t assign me to this dumb shit again.” Annoyed, he prepared to put his helmet on as he strode back toward his sleek black bike. Usually, he enjoyed riding through the mountains in the moonlight. Rig resigned himself to his fate. “Family…” he grumbled.