Bad Blood (6Questions)

Day 20

Unbelievable.

Dad promised me a week. Mark himself talked about five days. I ought to have time until Tuesday to get Marianne. What bad joke is this?

Carson doesn't say a word about the speed limits this time. If anything, he wants me to fly faster. I feel him fidgeting beside me, and it's not helping. Too many worried thoughts for a too long deathlike silence. Tension makes it slightly difficult to breathe in the car. I turn on some music.

Who wants to live forever. At first, it's like a slap in the face, then I adapt my heartbeat to the rhythm and calm my breathing, clearing my mind a little. Well, at least now it's just me and my thoughts I have to handle.

My eyes pierce the dark. I'm seeking the answer on the straight plain road in front of us. The damn answer to what in hell am I supposed to do now.

"If the people Marianne helped me imprison," Louis cautiously breaks the silence between us kilometres behind the border with Austria, clearly sharing my worries, "somehow broke free..., what do you think that would mean for her?"

I glance at him. What does he think it would mean? And why he keeps making it a hypothesis, when we both know it's just fucking happening?
"I'll tell you what it'd mean. Marianne gets a gun to her head, you have a suspicious car under your windows and I better watch my food."

"What does that mean?"

I raise my brows. Is he a cop or a naïve romantic? Actions have consequences.
"Have they fled already or are they just lost?"

Louis clears his throat. "Um... I can't... What's the difference?" he frowns unknowingly.

"Are they completely outta the prison walls?"

"Yes," he sighs with resignation. "They broke through the gate..."

I close my eyes and can't help a bitter smile. "You opened the door for them."

He catches the wheel. "Jesus Christ, watch the road!"

"I am watching, alright. What were your prison guards watching, hey? ... Shit. You have Marianne's life on your conscience."

"Hey. I tried, okay. It's not me, it's not even the police to be blamed."

"Oh, you're all just a bunch of idiots. You would've never found Marianne, if it wasn't for me. And my friends."

"Really?" he sounds offended. "I heard you were sorta helpless before Marianne managed to call me."

I roll my eyes. Fucking thing. Fucking guy. Fucking my friends. At large. Dammit.

The signboard says thirty-five kilometres to Vienna border. Then to the southern edge of the city. It's a half an hour minimum. They'll be there by then - but we may still catch the show.

"When did they find them missing?"

"After the dinner."

"But they might have been gone for... how long?"

Carson exhales heavily. "The camera captured them walking through the gate between six fifty and quarter past seven."

"Oh, you watched them live?" I nod sarcastically, imagining how the gang marches out in whatever costumes, their bribed friends saluting for their goodbye... "Good for you. Shame you had to wait till the end of the dinner to notice... So, they might be with Marianne already, huh? Excellent."

Louis swallows his first answer with shame as bitter side dish. "I doubt their first worry at freedom is Marianne."

"And you know what I think? It's exactly their first worry. Mark my words, the very safe place they hid Marianne at, is where they're heading right now."