The Pioneers

Chapter 5

"He's not stopping."

         "He will," Ethan whispered. "He's only got a half full tank of gas."

         Amaryllis nodded, glaring out the window.

         She'd been instructed by Ethan to look scared, which, at that point, hadn't become very hard.

          Hours had passed since they'd left.

          They both had their pocket knives up their sleeves, waiting for the time that the redhead would finally pull over . . . their plan was to slash his tires before they ran away, and then sneak onto a bus somewhere to get as far away as possible before returning to the house, giving the men time to search the house first, that way they could revisit without problems.

           If it weren't for the redhead's incessant need to keep driving, then the plan would've already been executed.

            "How much longer?" Ethan said.

           He had leaned forwards to face the redhead in the front seat, whose eyes kept looking back at them through the rearview mirror. "Four hours."

           ". . . Is there any chance we can stop for food?"

           The redhead laughed. "In four hours, yes."

           Amaryllis glared at Ethan.

           He swallowed. "What about water?"

            "We're not stopping until we get there," the redhead said, shrugging and smirking. "End of story."

           Amaryllis pursed her lips, turning back to the window and resting her head in her palm, hiding the fact that the corners of her mouth had turned back to facing the opposite direction of the sky.

           There was no one outside; it was like all cars had been wiped off the face of the planet as the result of the earthquake. She kept trying to find an officer, someone on Highway Patrol that she could roll down the window and scream at, but nobody appeared.

            Was it possible that they could still pull off escaping even after they'd reached their destination? What if it was surrounded by more men, men with guns and knives like at the house? What if one of them would get shot before they had the chance to even run?

             Amaryllis reached into her bag, pulling out one of her skates and waving Ethan's attention over.

             "You can hit him with it," she whispered.

              Ethan shook her head. "Not while he's still driving."

              "But, what if he—"

              "If we take him out now, we might crash and die," he said. "We'll come up with a new plan."

                Amaryllis huffed, shoving the skate back inside, folding her arms, and then continuing her glare out the window.

                 Heavenly Father, she thought, don't let him keep us.

                 Please help us get home.

* * *

            Ethan shrugged Amaryllis's head off of him.

            She inhaled, jerking back upright . . .

            Ethan grabbed her head and shielded it from slamming into the window. For a good moment she resisted, trying to shake his hands off of her until she completely woke up and came to a sense of her surroundings again.