𝐋𝐢𝐚𝐫, 𝐋𝐢𝐚𝐫 | 𝐉𝐉 𝐌𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐤

77. Ted Bundy-ed.

S E V E N T Y - S E V E N
Ted Bundy-ed.

"Where are we going? Is it this way?" I ask after what feels like a thirty-mile trek through the wilderness.

My adrenaline is still pumping from the relief of being broken out of the hell-hole that is a wilderness camp. Sure, I was there for less than twelve hours, but it was a shitty few hours. However, the giddiness at my breakout has faded, my legs hurt too much for glee.

"Why did you park so far away?" I question while catching my breath, finally getting to the road.

JJ trips on a tree root. "Ow," He grunts. "Kind of a long story, but, um, there's only one road into Kitty Hawk. And with the camp and the Twinkie being a little obnoxious, I thought it'd be best to leave it as a decoy." He explains while looking down the road. "There should be– that's a cop. Go. Cop! Cop! Cop!" JJ grabs my hand and pulls me back into the woods.

We hide behind a bush, the blue flashing lights hopefully not lighting us up. The sirens wail as it drives past us, thankfully not stopping.

"That's what the decoy's for," JJ says.

"Okay," I nod, walking back out from the bush. I look up and down the road once the police truck passes. "So are we hitch-hiking?" I ask, concerned that that's his master plan.

I don't want to be Ted Bundy-ed.

"Not quite. We missed Ward's plane, but I got another plan." He stops in the middle of the road, looking down into the distance. "Come on, man. Where you at, dude?" A few seconds later, tyres squeal and a car that's been driven by a maniac drives down the road. "Here he comes. Dude, come on! Hurry up, man, come on!"

I stare at the car, and worry begins building in my stomach.

"Who the hell is that?" I ask JJ quietly. JJ gives me a look, and somehow I just know. That and the stupid driving say it all. "That is not Barracuda Mike."

"Sure is," JJ admits, opening the door for me.

"JJ, he perves on me like six times a minute!" I hiss quietly.

"Bus is waiting. All aboard." I hear the man I want to gut like he does to fish. "Nice to see you again, princess."

What is with creepy men and calling me princess? I have a name for a reason.

I take a deep breath; this must've been a last resort, which means we don't have any more options. I slide into the seat, and the car stinks of him: beer, weed, fish and sweat. Being surrounded by it makes me want to vomit.

JJ gets in a second after me. "Plane's ready, right?" He asks, shutting the door behind him.

"Plane is ready. It's been ready, dude. Let's go." He nods, beginning to drive. It'll be a wonder if we make it alive, considering how he's driving.

"That's what I'm talking about. I did good! I'm a hustler, baby!" JJ is all too pleased with himself. He had a plan go well, if that ain't a miricale I don't know what is.

With how fast Barracuda is driving, it doesn't take us long to get there. The car stops, and JJ gets out instantly. Putting his hand on the passenger seat, Fishy Boy turns to look at me, "Good to see you again, princess."

I don't say anything, I just get out of the car and slam the door behind me hard.

"Direct flight to South America on Barracuda Airlines. What more could you ask for?" JJ looks down at me with a smile, one I return.

I'm not stuck at Kitty Hawk, so this is an upgrade.

"Are you sure?" I ask, my hair blowing with the wind, the rotor spins violently. "Last plane I was on crashed."