The Ridiculous Retreat Of Monica and Pete Robertson

The Ridiculous Retreat of Monica and Pete Robertson Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Escaping the next night was a breeze.

All we had to do was get ourselves out the door, fetch out luggage from the back of Peter's trunk and hop into Jerry's truck.

"How much did you take?" I asked Peter as Jerry sped down the road.

"Ten," Peter said casually.

"Thousand!" I screamed, socking my brother in the arm.

"Jeez, Mon calm down, he's got plenty."

"That's not the point. We agreed on five!"

Peter just shrugged. "Yeah and then I got greedy."

It was almost 4:00 a.m. by the time we reached the bus station.

I was cold and tired and cranky, and I couldn't wait to board the bus to sleep.

Peter gave Jerry 300 bucks for helping us out, then we payed for our tickets and waited for the next bus.

It arrived half an hour later.

Me and Peter grabbed our luggage and boarded the bus.

"What time is it?" I asked, plopping into a seat near the front.

Peter slid in beside me. "4:40. Why?"

"Dad'll be up soon."

"Pftt, who cares? We've finally escaped that hell hole."

"Yeah but"- I gasped as a horrible thought entered my mind. "What if dad calls the police on us? You know because of what we did?"

Peter shrugged. "So, let him. He has no idea where we're going."

"Yeah but"-

"But nothing Monica. We're fine. Just chill out."

I nodded and looked out the window as the road whizzed by.

There wasn't much to see, so I soon fell asleep.

Peter woke me up some time later when we reached the airport.

I was in a much better mood, as I'd somehow managed to get two hours of sleep.

It took us forty minutes to reach our gate, but by the time we did I was ecstatic.

"This is so exciting!" I exclaimed as me and Peter headed down the aisle to our plane.

"Yeah, I know. Let's take a picture," Peter replied, pulling out his phone.

We snapped a few photos before, "okay. That's enough! This ain't no runway!" Someone shouted behind us.

"Sorry," we both mumbled, as we took the walk of shame to our seats.

"Guess we can't sit together," Peter pointed out, as we looked around the nearly full plane.

There were four empty seats, but none were together.

I shrugged. "It's fine. I need a break from you anyway. See you later."

And with that I headed down the plane and took a seat beside a sleeping old lady.

I leaned over her to look out the window but there was nothing to see yet.

A voice came over the intercom telling us to fasten our seatbelts, because we were about to take flight.

I looked down to make sure mine was on, then sat back for the ride.

"And then he bit me, so then I slapped him and tied that little bastard to the fence," Mrs. Bison yelled, a demented smile plastered across her disgusting face.