Destination 1974

Chapter 24

| Dear Leanne, your mixtape is safe inside the clown car's glove department. |

~***~

I'm standing like a statue. I suddenly realize I'm still breathing, and not in any pain. I open my eyes, and they widen as Ralph collapses in front of me, clutching his chest. Holy shi! he shot Ralph.

"Sir, what have you done?" an agent exclaims as Benedict lowers his gun in horror.

I look down at Ralph, and he smiles at me as blood oozes from his dry lips. He lifts his hand from the wound and pats his chest where his tattoo is exposed. He suddenly gurgles, trying to speak.

"Dehh...hell...Sssea..sss...serpent...." he slurs, spitting out some blood afterwards.

I quickly run away, unable to speak, and I head straight through the back hallway. "Get her!" a voice yells, and I hear a stampede of footsteps behind me as I approach the back door. It opens as I reach out to it, and I smile when Clyde pulls me out and slams the door behind us. He shoves a mop through the handle and latch, barricading the door from the FBI. We don't exchange any words as we run into his truck, and he starts driving off before I can even close the truck door. I hear banging on the back door moments before my door is closed, and we turn out into the parking lot.

"Head north!" I point to the street, and Clyde quickly swerves the vehicle to the road. I glance out my window and notice Benedict running out of the building, slowing down as he notices us driving away. I sigh with relief as I glance into the rear-view mirror, seeing Ricki's become smaller in the distance. I turn to grab my bag from the seat, and I toss it on the floor in front of me. My bag hits the glove department and opens it abruptly, causing all of its contents fall to my feet. I groan in frustration.

"Sh!t," I mumble under my breath as I start picking up Clyde's belongings.

"Leave it, I've got it," Clyde says as he reaches over to grab his things.

"Just drive, I got it," I reply, waving his hand away. He's very persistent, however, and continues grabbing his sh!t from my hands.

"I said I've got it!" he snaps, yanking 'Leanne's Mix' from my hands. His hand slides over his black wallet on my lap, and it flops to the floor. Clyde freezes, looking at the road and then me. I stare at the wallet for a moment before picking it up off of the floor. He swiftly snatches it from my hand, completely forgetting about 'Leanne's Mix'.

I tug it back, "what the hell is your problem?" I ask as I flip it open.

I stare at it with wide eyes.

The car is eerily silent, minus the wind whistling through the open windows and the engine humming. Clyde stops at a red light and immediately I can feel his eyes searching me. I look up at him in disbelief and he reacts by trying to grab the wallet again. I hold it away from him with a disgusted frown.

"Don't be such a f***ing child, Clyde -" I glance at the wallet, "-- or should I say: Agent Martin," I glare at him and he physically gives up, looking at me with those damn puppy eyes. I whip his badge at him, and he flinches as it hits him in the chest and lands on his lap.

"What the hell is this? Were you always an agent for the FBI?" I ask with exaggerated gestures.

Clyde rolls his eyes and continues driving again. "Answer me, you sonofab!tch!" I scream, slamming the dashboard with my fists. We get on the highway, and he silently drives down the road with intense focus. I shake my head in disbelief and glare at the road.

"Pull over," I mumble. No response. "Pull over," I say a little louder, but I still get no response. I see his hands tightening with every word I say, and it makes my head feel like a static radio station. I impulsively grab the wheel, and turn it to the right, causing us to harshly swerve off the road in front of the cars beside us. He slams the brakes, and we jerk in our seats as we crudely pull over onto the gravel.