Fireworks: A Bucky Barnes Romance

Chapter 6

Sarah fought against Sandhurst's control as he sent her running toward the highway. She couldn't shake it off completely, but she turned a full run into a painful jog. Sandhurst's disc seemed to work best with limited muscle movements. Making her grip Bucky's arm, for instance, was a simple reflex.

Running—making her use legs, torso, and arms—was more awkward. Besides, he must be distracted. She couldn't turn her head back to look, but she knew that Sam and Bucky must be giving him hell. They would come to help her when they could.

Please, Lord, let them come soon.

She didn't know exactly where she was—on I-10 somewhere between Lafayette and Crowley—but the traffic wasn't too bad. Most people were slowing to watch the fight behind her, so she wasn't too worried about getting hit.

Still, as her feet left grass and began to plod across pavement, she was scared. The cars weren't totally stopped either.

A white lady in a minivan pulled up near Sarah and rolled her window down. "Are you okay, hon? Do you need a ride?"

Sarah's body wouldn't let her approach the car, even if she wanted to. "Uh—" Her halting jog took her in front of the lady's car. The woman's look turned to worry and suspicion.

The next lane wasn't stopped. Sarah closed her eyes, feeling the wind of an 18-wheeler blowing past her. She fought, but her feet kept moving.

Right as it passed, with Sarah's left foot poised to take her into the next lane and whatever vehicle was coming next, Sarah felt her armpits grasped from behind. Sam lifted her into the air.

"About time!" Sarah said.

"Yeah, I love you, too," Sam said. "Glad to hear your voice." He swooped a little drunkenly as they went over the four-lane highway.

"Are you alright?"

He course-corrected, but slightly too far, and one wing nearly clipped her as he flapped upward. "Sorry. Ugly Dude got a lucky hit on the back of my head. I'm good. You free?"

"I think he's distracted. But I can't do everything." Her feet were still moving in a vague running motion, like those dogs on youtube when they were held over water.

"Get rid of that thing!" Sam said.

Sarah only then realized that her hand was still clamped around the disc, the one Sandhurst had failed to get her to attach to Bucky. She shook her arm, wriggled her wrist, but the fingers wouldn't open.

"Not working."

Instead of landing on the far side of the highway, which Sarah half-expected, Sam was spiraling higher. It still felt like he was barely holding it together, which made her scared for him, but also for herself. If he dropped her at this height... But hey, she'd said she wouldn't criticize his flying and she wouldn't. Maybe it always felt like the bleeding edge of falling; how would she know?

Still, yikes, they were high. "Where are we going?"

"Helicopter," Sam said. "But I can't put you in there until we get rid of that thing. You might slap it on the pilot next."

Sarah again tried to shake her hand. Nothing.

Sam asked, "Do you know if there's a range on those things? If we get more than a mile away, maybe?"

"I don't know!" Sarah's arms and back were aching painfully from dangling in Sam's grip. "Maybe." Then she remembered the first two men in the helicopter, talking to Sandhurst while they brought her in. "Maybe not."