You're My Everything

Chapter 32: Left

This chapter was actually accidentally published months and months ago, and then immediately deleted. Fun fact!

*Kate's POV* *much much later*

I hear Liz sigh from the passenger seat as she sits staring out the window hopelessly. My eyes flick to the clock on the dashboard absentmindedly. I don't even grasp what time it really is, I just feel the need to check--to make sure I still have time, that it still exists.

I turn the steering wheel slightly going around the bend in the road when I see it pull onto the dark asphalt. The black four door Nissan. There was no doubt about it. I didn't have to double check the tags, but I did anyway. This was the one. If I could have screamed with joy I would have. No matter how much I willed this to happen I feared it wouldn't, that we would be too late. But we might not be, I think as I it here gaping at it. It is too good to be true, a mirage or the sight of an oasis in the hottest desert. Unbelievable. No. It can't be.

I wait a moment, quadruple checking the tags, to make sure I'm not wrong. I'm not. I know the license plates by heart. I am not wrong.

"Liz," I struggle. But I can't wait for her to turn around slowly. I grab her arm and practically throw her out the window with such force. Her eyes only grow wider as she examines it.

"But-but-but-but-" she can't believe it, either. I try to speak, but my lips just moved vaguely. A fish out of water. "I never thought..." she trailed off.

Neither did I, Liz, neither did I.

It took all of my will power and then some to keep a constant speed. Because all of a sudden, it felt like 67 mph was going backwards with the sight of that specific Nissan. I couldn't get there fast enough.

My nails were literally ripping into the foam of the steering wheel with excitement.

We might not be too late. We might save her. We can save her. Perrie. We can do this.

Perrie. Perrie is so close. We can-

"But we might save her!" I shriek.

"And Zayn-" Liz begins.

"He's gonna be-"

"I just-"

"Am I dreaming?" I couldn't help but asking. This has to be fake. I rub my eyes as if to wake me up. And from the corner of my eye I can see Liz pinch herself just to check. "Are you awake?"

"I seem to be," she says thoughtfully, yet uneasily, not quite believing herself.

Movement in my peripheral vision catches my eye. My head whips to the wind shield to peer out of it. My nose is practically against the glass, making sure I miss nothing. They're pulling over. The Nissan. Pulling over? Why? What happened? Is Perrie alright?

"Um," I say.

"I don't know," Liz responds.

I squirm in my seat adjusting the view point to see if it changed. But, regardless of the angle, the car remained on the right shoulder of the road.

"Well, pull over!" Liz was beating her hand against the dashboard impatiently.

My frozen hands rigidly turn the wheel to the shoulder, too, about 10 yards behind them. I tried to ease up my foot on the gas pedal, but it came off all too fast, and we jerked to a stop. I glance at Liz apologetically, but she dismissed it quickly. We have far more important things.

Liz was yanking at her seat belt to no avail. Finally, she gave up and tried to leap out of the door still within its protection. I throw out my arm to restrain her because the flimsy belt would not.