17. Emory

17

EMORY

" E verything alright back there?"

I can see Banner's gaze in the rearview mirror as he checks the back seat. I shift a bit in my spot. His gaze is nothing short of unsettling. I get the impression he's not happy that I'm here. Not happy at all.

"We're fine, Phil," Julian calls back cheerfully.

"It's awfully quiet. I don't like that she's quiet. She could be planning something."

I remain tight lipped, because I am plotting something. An escape. If Cole is walking into a trap, I have to warn him.

Julian snorts. "Don't worry. Emmy has seen the light. Or she will soon enough. She won't give us any trouble, will you, dear?"

I glare at him in response. I can't act too docile, or that might make him suspicious. Banner grumbles under his breath.

"I'm sorry, Phil. I didn't catch that," Julian says. His tone is cheerful, and he's smiling, but his eyes are hard and dark.

"I said, this is bullshit. She's going to get us caught."

"No, she's not. It's going to be fine, Banner. Soon enough, you'll be kicking back and relaxing in your new Colombian home."

"If we make it to Colombia. Not only is her Navy SEAL boyfriend looking for her, so are the cops."

Julian leans forward in his seat, his face turning red. A big vein throbs in his temple.

"He's not her boyfriend," he hisses through clenched teeth.

"Whatever. My point is, she's a liability. With your money, you could have a dozen broads, a lot better looking than B cups back there."

"Gee, thanks," I mutter.

"Don't insult her, Banner. It's beneath you. Moreover, don't insult me. The only reason you're not still rotting in prison is that I got you out."

"We helped each other get out. Don't forget that."

I'm starting to get worried. Julian terrifies me, but as long as I try not to make him mad, he probably won't hurt me. At least not until we're in Colombia.

But Banner clearly thinks I'm a problem. Is he armed? Probably. All he'd have to do is park the truck, turn around in his seat and shoot me. Of course, that's not his style. He prefers poison. I don't see Julian just sitting idly by while Banner tries to administer poison, though.

"I think you're forgetting that you'd given up when I found you. You'd become institutionalized. Domesticated. I reminded you of who you really are. A genius."

Banner's eyes narrow, but he doesn't offer a retort. Julian keeps piling it on thicker as he goes.

"Not just a genius, an artist. You can control when someone dies down to the last second. That's huge, man. Someone of your intellect shouldn't be institutionalized. You should be celebrated."

Banner grunts, and returns his eyes to the road.

"Just make sure she doesn't try anything. Now that I'm out of jail, I'm never going back."

Like they were in San Quentin or some other hellhole instead of a fancy private prison. Still, I believe him. I believe he'll do anything to stay out of a cell. That means he would readily kill me and probably Julian too if he thought it necessary to be free.

I try to sit still, even though I'm squirming on the inside. Cole is in danger. If he rushes into a trap trying to rescue me, I'll never forgive myself.

There has to be a way out of this. I have to warn Cole, help him somehow. I can't do that unless I escape.

We're traveling down the interstate right now. I look out the window at the other motorists and wonder if I should try to get their attention somehow. Maybe they could help me?

But then, we pass by a big SUV filled with kids in the backseat. A dog, too. Banner and Julian would slaughter that whole family in a heartbeat if they thought they needed to. I can't take the risk of yet someone else getting hurt because of my problems.

As if guessing my thoughts, Julian gives me a stern look.

"Don't forget, I have other resources at my disposal besides the Surgeon. Your family will never be safe unless you continue to do exactly what I say."

I cross my arms over my chest and turn sullenly away from him. Banner clears his throat in the front seat.

"Hey, have you heard from the Surgeon?"

"Not yet. You know how the Surgeon loves to play with his prey. He's probably skinned the SEAL alive by now, and is wearing his face for a hat."

Julian looks over at me to see if his barb stings. I try not to give him the satisfaction, stubbornly refusing to change my expression. I am terrified on the inside, though. Please please please don't let Cole be dead.

"Are you sure that he's going to win, though? I mean, isn't this Cole Drake guy some kinda one man army? Have you seen what they put those SEAL guys through in training?"

Julian glares at him. "Since when did you turn into such a chickenshit? He's only a human being, Glen. Not Superman."

Banner shakes his head. "Nah, man, you don't understand. Remember my old Celly Markus?"

"The guy who was in for embezzling? With the red hair and the annoying voice?"

"Yeah," Banner replies. "He was at a party at Wyatt Summers' place, you know, the cult leader guy? And he says that Cole Drake came in like fucking Rambo and killed like nine of the cultists without breaking a sweat."

"Markus lies like a dog, Banner. Besides, I'd wager the training I put myself through is far more impressive than his."

I can't help it. That makes me laugh, and it's genuine. Banner joins in.

"Maybe your woman isn't so bad after all," Banner says.

"I'm a decorated martial artist and I know how to fire a gun as well as anyone," Julian says. "But it doesn't matter. I'm never going to have to face off with Cole Drake because the Surgeon will take care of him, if he hasn't already."

"So you say. I'm keeping a look out anyway."

"You do that, man, if it makes you feel better." Julian leans back in his seat and sighs. "You know, Emory, I'm surprised that you and that glorified thug even hooked up at all. He doesn't seem like your type."

I don't want to upset him, but at the same time it's hard to take his constant barrage of pointed comments. Before I can stop myself, I turn and snap at him.

"My type? How am I supposed to know what my type is, Julian? You swooped in and brainwashed me when I was nineteen."

"I never brainwashed you. You practically threw yourself at me, because you wanted to ride in the limos, and the private jets, and eat caviar on my yacht."

"I never threw myself at you. You filled up my head with a lot of big ideas, and then you love bombed me into submission even though my instincts kept telling me something wasn't right."

"Love bomb? Please. That's just another example of your generation taking something perfectly fine and putting sinister connotations on it. How can you complain about the poetry, the flowers, the jewelry?"

I cover my face with my hands. This is a nightmare.

"I can never make you understand, Julian. I couldn't have cared less about the jewelry and the flowers. It was how interested you seemed in me. How much you seemed to believe in my talent and my career. I thought you really loved me."

"I do love you, Emory!"

He puts his hand on my shoulder and it takes everything I have not to wither away from his touch.

"I love you so much! And I did believe in…I mean, I do believe in your career. You can still do your job even in Colombia. I never wanted to crush your dreams."

I look over at him, peeking out from between my fingers. He believes what he's saying. Julian's mix of cunning and madness has always thrown me, and everyone else, off their guard. It's only in moments like this one that you realize how out of touch with reality he really is.

That, and the whole breaking two serial killers out of prison thing. No one ever said Julian wasn't a doer. It's too bad that he picks awful things to do.

"You don't believe me, Emory, but you will. We're going to be so happy in Colombia. We can start a family, a whole dynasty. I've got offshore accounts that will keep us in the lap of luxury until we die, and still leave something for the kids."

The thought of having a child with Julian turns my stomach so violently that I throw up in my mouth. Choking, I cough and struggle to breathe. Julian quickly offers a bottle of water. I take it from him, hating the fact that I have to accept his help.

"Oh my God," Banner groans from the front seat. "Did she throw up back there? Because if she threw up back there, any minute I'm going to smell it and then I'm going to puke, too."

"She didn't throw up, she's fine."

Julian peers over the seat and his jaw falls open.

"Are you speeding? You idiot! The last thing we want is to be pulled over."

"Nah, the easiest way to attract attention is by sticking to the speed limit. No one's going to pull me over for doing five over the limit."

Julian leans into the front seat, his eyes boring into Banner's. Julian is a very large man, and his crazed presence gets even to the man who poisoned his own family.

"Slow it down," Julian growls.

"All right, all right, fuck, get outta my grill, Lovejoy."

Julian sits back and sighs. He stares out the window, his jaw set hard. He's in a bad mood. I fear what he might do if I cause any more problems, so I try to shrink into myself and remain quiet.

I keep looking in the rearview and side mirrors, praying that I'll see Cole's truck. Or maybe a police officer. But as mile after mile goes past and that doesn't happen, I begin to despair.

It's starting to look like Julian might just succeed in taking me out of the country. That idea fills me with nameless dread. Oddly, the thing that bothers me the most about being out of the country is the chance that my father's health takes a turn for the worse. I really want to be there for him and my mom.

I run my hand down my face and check the mirrors again. No sign of Cole or the cops, just the same nondescript white utility van…

That's been following us for quite a while. My heart leaps in my chest. I try to calm myself. It could just be a coincidence. We are on a major thoroughfare after all.

I remember the things Cole taught me, how to tell if a car really is following you. I observe and wait, trying to mitigate my hopes. When Banner changes lanes and passes a slow moving vehicle, the van does the same, staying behind us.

My hopes soar, but I keep watch, praying the van does not exit or otherwise disappear.

"Hey," Julian says, messing with his phone. "My Copfinder app says that there's a checkpoint up ahead. We need to get off the freeway."

"Find me an alternate route."

"All right. Here, I'll Bluetooth it to your GPS."

A melodious ding sounds, and the GPS screen on the dashboard lights up with a map.

"This is a mountain road, Lovejoy. Super curvy with no guardrails for most of it."

"So? It's better than getting pinched isn't it?"

Banner sits in silence for a moment before replying.

"Okay," he says in an agreeable tone.

Banner takes the exit. I wait with bated breath, hoping the van will follow.

To my immense relief, it does just that. Unless they are also using the cop finder app, the driver of the van is almost certainly following us.

But who could it be? Cole? Someone else from Platinum Security?

Unfortunately, I'm not the only one who notices the van.

"Hey, Lovejoy," Banner says, his eyes narrowed to mere slits. "I think this van might be following us."

Lovejoy's head whips around–I smirk, because Cole taught me not to do that–and he gapes in shock.

"Fuck. You might be right."

He checks his phone, frantically swiping.

"What are you doing?"

"Looking for alternate routes, and I think I just found one. There's an old logging road up here on the left. It connects to the highway on the other side. If they follow us down that, they're definitely on our tail."

"And if they don't?"

"Then we get a slightly more bumpy, but also more scenic ride. What are you worried about? The plane's not going anywhere without me to pilot it. Unless the Surgeon fit some time into taking pilot lessons while he's been out."

Banner sighs. "Fine. But if this turns out to be Cole Drake, we're screwed."

"We are not."

Julian pats his side, and I see the telltale lump of a pistol beneath his shirt. Probably in that ostrich leather shoulder holster he was so fond of when we were dating. I hated that stupid thing. He always acted more like an ass when he wore it.

Banner skids around a sharp left turn, winding up on a gravel road. Ahead of us looms a cyclonic fence gate with warning signs attached all over it.

"There's a gate, Lovejoy!"

"Just ram it! It will be fine."

I check to see if my seatbelt is secure and brace for impact. The last thing I see right before we hit the fence is the van also skidding around the corner. They're following us!

The truck strikes the fence. It doesn't burst open like in the movies. Instead, we run it down. The gate bounces hard against the undercarriage of the truck, sending us on a wild, bouncing ride back and forth across the gravel road.

My seatbelt keeps me safe, but Julian flies up and slams his head on the roof of the truck. For a moment I get the idea to try and get his gun while he's stunned and groaning in pain. But the truck is moving too erratically for me to even try.

Banner hollers, struggling to get the truck under control. At last the fence comes free from under us and we take off like a bolt of lighting.

The van behind us swerves to avoid the fence and we lose sight of it in the dust for a moment. But soon, it comes roaring back into view.

"Floor it," Julian growls, holding his head with one hand and buckling his seat belt with the other. "Lose em."

"I'm trying," Banner sputters.

"No way can that van keep up with this monster engine, quit fucking around," Julian snaps.

"I've got the gas pedal on the floor!" Banner shouts. "For some reason the engine's running like crap."

Not just the engine, it turns out. The entire dashboard flickers, including the GPS screen. The truck finally sputters and dies completely, leaving us to coast along on our remaining momentum.

"Fuck! That fence must have done some damage," Banner growled.

"Pull over, pull over," Julian snaps. "There, pull behind that thing!"

The truck rolls to a stop behind what looks like a tiny cabin, a relic from the old logging camp. Julian immediately clambers into the very rear of the SUV. He opens the rear doors a crack and aims his pistol out.

For a time, all I hear is heavy breathing. The unseen van pulls to a halt, and its engine shuts off. A door opens. Then another. And another.

"Four, five," Banner says, counting the people getting out of the van. "We're outnumbered, Lovejoy! It's probably all those military freaks that work for that security company this bitch hired! We're so screwed."

"I'm not going down without a fight," Julian growls. "Don't bail on me now, man. If you try to run I'll shoot you myself."

"You're giving me the warm and fuzzies, Lovejoy."

Banner pulls a pistol out as well. He unbuckles his seat belt and twists around so he can aim out the open window of the SUV.

We wait. Then, a familiar voice carries over to us.

"Yo, where did they go?"

It's the white guy with the blue dreadlocks. What's he doing here?

"They went behind that old shed," Mitchell says. "I think their car broke down or something."

"Of course it broke down," Cody says. "Look! They sprang a leak in their gas tank, that's what all of this is."

"Dude," TJ says. "Does that mean we can light a match and the fire will, like, go around the corner and blow them up?"

The sound of a smack, followed by an "Ow."

"You idiot," the dreadlocks guy says. "That would blow up Emory, too!"

It's Boys R Us. Instead of Cole, or a crack squadron of his guys from Platinum Security, a boy band has come to save me.

I'm doomed. And they're probably going to get themselves killed.

Julian looks at me very carefully, his eyes narrow and crafty.

"You know these people, don't you?" he asks softly.

"They're harmless," I say. "Please don't hurt them."

"Harmless?"

Julian pushes the door open and gets out. Nobody tells me not to, so I get out too. He creeps around the edge of the cabin and peers carefully.

"It's that boy band. Son of a bitch, how did they find us?"

Good question. They must have followed me when I left the studio earlier. I wish I had known, so I could have told them not to be so stupid.

"Hey, somebody's looking at us," Cody says.

Julian steps out from behind the cabin, pointing his gun at the band. I come out with him, pleading the whole time.

"Don't do this. Julian, please."

"Yo, it's him! The yuppie guru guy," TJ says. "And Emory!"

"I– What are you guys doing here?" I stammer.

"We're here to rescue you from this psycho," says Cody. "You're our girl, Em–"

"He's got a gun!" The guy with the blue dreadlocks, often referred to as the toughest of the group, faints dead away. Mitchell suddenly breaks into our choreography from the music video.

"The fuck are you doing?" TJ asks.

"I'm distracting him, grab the gun," Mitchell says in the middle of a pirouette.

"Um, he doesn't look very distracted," Cody says. "I think we're all about to die."

Julian tilts his head back and laughs.

"Nah, you guys are too hilarious to kill. I will be taking your van, though. Banner! Come on out, you're not going to believe this."

The sound of the door opening and closing reaches my ears. A moment later, Banner leaps out into the open, both hands on his pistol like an action hero.

When he sees the boy band, confusion reigns on his face.

"What the fuck is going on?"

"Don't you recognize Boys R Us? They were huge a few years back. Too bad Blumbert isn't here, he's your biggest fan. Knows the lyrics to all of your songs." Lovejoy chuckles, but then his smile fades. "Give me the keys to the van, or you're going to have to start auditioning new members."

"Yo, there's only one of him," Mitch says. "He can't kill us all before we take him down."

"You want to bet your life on that?" Julian asks.

"Guys, I appreciate the Hell out of what you're trying to do here, but please, just do as he says."

Mitch still looks like he wants to do something stupid.

"I couldn't stand it if someone got hurt because of me," I say. "Please, just let us go."

Mitch sighs, and then he reaches into his pocket. Julian and Banner both level their guns at him but he holds up a hand.

"Yo, chill out. I'm getting the keys."

"Cell phones, too," Julian says. "All of you."

The band gives up their cell phones, and Mitch tosses Julian the keys. Banner turns off the phones one by one and tosses them into the back of the van.

"I told you we should have brought guns," Cody says.

"And ruin our reputation? No parent is going to let their kids buy our album if we're running around with a bunch of guns."

"I can't believe I thought they were a bunch of Navy SEALs," Banner says, relaxing at last. "Instead, it's just a stupid boy band."

"Hey, we were the biggest boy band on Planet Earth for a while, how many of your songs have made the charts?" Mitch sputters.

"You can kill one of them if they talk again," Julian says.

My heart skips a beat. I hold my breath all the way until we get into the van, but fortunately the band doesn't do anything stupid. Julian keeps close watch on them as Banner puts the van in gear.

"We're just going to let them go?" Banner asks.

"Why not? It will take them hours to walk back to the highway. By then, we'll be long gone."

My rescuers dwindle in the rearview until they disappear from sight. I suppose there is a silver lining. They at least slowed us down. And maybe someone is looking for the van. The boys clearly absconded with this junker from the studio lot. It's still got a bunch of equipment in it, and it's far from the glamorous ride they are used to.

"All right, all right, we're back on schedule," Julian says. "And as an added bonus, we have acquired a far less conspicuous vehicle."

"A far less conspicuous vehicle without GPS," Banner grumbles. "How are we going to find this airstrip?"

"You idiot, the airstrip isn't on any maps. GPS wouldn't have helped anyway. But don't worry, I know my way there by heart."

"You'd better. I still think we should have killed them."

"Do you want to go back and kill them? Because we can, if you want to–"

"No, no, it's fine. Let's just get to the airplane and get the fuck out of this country."

It's starting to look like there really is no hope. What if they take me out of the country, and Julian decides he doesn't have any reason to keep his word anymore. He claims to have the resources to hurt my family, even if he's a thousand miles away.

Cole is in danger, too. Imminent danger. For my family, and for Cole, I can't let them take me. I have to do something, and it has to be now.

I start to form a plan. It's stupid, and crazy dangerous, but it's better than the alternative. I have to enact it soon, though. Before we reach the freeway again.

"Slow down," Julian says as the van careens around a bend in the gravel road. "Are you afraid of the boy band catching up with us?"

"Shut up, this van is a piece of junk. If I drop below second gear the engine tries to die."

"Who cares? We're going downhill, you can coast."

I see a sharp turn coming up ahead. This could be my chance. Julian sticks his head up into the front seat so he can argue with Banner. He's not paying any attention to me. I slither back toward the rear doors.

"Hit the brakes," Julian shouts. "Can't you see that hairpin coming up?"

"I am hitting the brakes, I told you this is a piece of shit."

I grab the handle, and take a deep breath. Years of dance training come into play as I become aware of every muscle, joint, and sinew in my body. I force them all to relax. If I tense up, this is going to hurt a whole lot more.

We hit the apex of the turn, the van nearly coming up on two wheels. It's now or never. I shove the rear door open and dive out, tucking into a roll.

I hit the gravel and tumble sideways. I fold my arms in close to my body and protect my head and face. When I come to a stop, I brace myself for an onslaught of pain from broken limbs or severed arteries.

To my surprise, the pain that comes is minor and mostly relegated to my right knee. Blood darkens my kneecap, and bits of gravel are embedded in the skin.

I tell my body to rise, and it obeys. I'm sore all over, but intact. Ahead of me, the van skids into a hard turn, fishtailing around the curve until it rams, back first, into a thick oak tree.

Glass shatters, and I hear Julian and Banner shouting. I don't wait around to see what happens next. Turning my back on the wreck, I rush into the woodland surrounding the old logging camp.

I hope I don't run into a mountain lion. This is prime territory for one. How ironic would it be to escape Julian and his serial killer buddies only to die because of an overgrown cat?

My luck holds. No predators jump out to eat me. But I can hear shouting from the road behind, and the sounds of breaking branches and crashing foliage. I have no choice but to keep running.

"There she is!" Julian shouts. "I see her, running next to that gully."

I look over my shoulder, and see Julian struggling through a copse of trees. Then my leading foot hits nothing but air and I'm falling.

I don't have time to scream as I strike a slope of hard edged gravel and slide down headfirst. The gully Julian was talking about. When I hit the bottom, I spit out a mouthful of gravel and groan. Did I break something this time, or can I move?

I roll over onto my stomach, a thousand little agonies shooting through my body. Moaning, I plant my palms on the rocky ground, preparing to push myself up onto my feet…

Only to freeze when my gaze falls on a man's boot inches from my nose.