Concealed Force

Chapter 2

It was dark when she woke and she lay still for a while, watching the street lights flash by above her. The radio was on, playing music she hadn't thought her dad would ever listen to, he liked Motown and Disco and this was Metal, something crunchy and fast. She was about to sit up and tease him about that when she realized there was someone else sitting in the passenger seat. A man.

Another cousin? She wracked her brain trying to recall any conversations about picking someone up. It was likely she'd been told but had forgotten, and if she didn't get his name right she'd be in trouble again. But she was still sleepy—it had been a long couple of weeks—and her mind wasn't alert yet. So she stayed where she was, not letting on she was no longer asleep, and hoping for a moment of inspiration.

Meanwhile she studied the man in the light of the passing lamps. Skinny arms sticking out of a sleeveless leather jacket, a shaved head and loads of tattoos. Not like the cuddly, white-haired, pastel-wearing family they'd met so far. Not at all.

He said something, but she couldn't hear properly with one ear muffled against the vibrating seat, and the other half covered by the blanket.

Her dad replied and then was silent for a while. She couldn't see her father from this angle, with the seatback in the way, but she heard him murmur something every now and then, and saw the passenger look out of the window to say "Yeah," or "Nah." They seemed to be looking for something. The hotel perhaps.

The car slowed down for a traffic light and finally she heard the skinny guy clearly.

"We gotta get rid of this ride soon, bro," he said, tapping the window. "They'll be looking."

Laura couldn't hear what her Dad said in reply, as they pulled through a dark and empty intersection, but she was beginning to feel like something was off. Get rid of this ride? Did he mean the car? She supposed they could return it to the hire office, and get a new one, but why? And why would anyone be looking for it? Had they scratched it? She hoped not. That would only make her dad's mood even worse. She lifted her head from the seat, to listen more carefully.

"There's a mall a couple miles away," her dad said. "We'll switch there."

Only it wasn't her dad. That wasn't his voice. Or his accent. Or, she thought, pulling herself silently along the backseat, him. The man in the driver's seat was bigger. A lot bigger. He'd pushed the chair back, which was why her view had been so obstructed, and still his dark-haired head was higher on the headrest.

Laura's heart began to beat hard in her chest. Her dad was gone. And she was in a car with two strange men. They were driving her...somewhere, and she had absolutely no idea where. She said the words to herself, but the meaning, the reality was difficult to grasp. Could she be dreaming? She pinched herself hard, but nothing changed.

She was beginning to feel dizzy from the mad pulsing of her blood, and tried to fight the natural urge to pant, tried to breathe quietly while she worked out what to do. She pulled the blanket back over her head and lay still. The one positive was that they didn't seem to know she was behind them. If they were going to abandon this car then she could just stay in it till they were gone, hope they didn't turn and spot her, hope they'd never know she'd been there.

"The fuck are you doing, man?" The driver said, slowing the car for a turn, the movement making Laura feel sick.

"Making a Molotov," the skinny guy said. "Gotta torch it. Don't want to leave a trail. Can't have any LEOs following you back to the compound. You wanna go back to prison?"

Laura uncovered one eye to see a bottle with a rag stuffed in the top.

The big guy grunted. "We're not gonna do it in the parking lot."