Chapter Ten
My grip on the wheel tightened until my knuckles hurt. I was trying to keep my worry from turning into anger, but it was hard. Especially now that Trent was awake. "I don't care how far we've not gotten," I said tightly, glaring at Trent by way of the rearview mirror. "If we only make three hundred miles today, then we'll deal with it. They have to stop sometime."
"I understand you're concerned about your partner," he said in that same persuasive voice that was starting to sound patronizing, "but I doubt they're planning on sacrificing him to their local god. You have a locator amulet. You'll find him. Slow down. Let them land. They're running because they know you're chasing them."
It was a nice thought, but they weren't running because of us. They were running to somewhere, their path arrow straight and their pace unflagging. I wasn't about to slow down, and Ivy didn't look up from her map, a long white finger touching where our paths might cross again.
Vivian kicked the back of my seat as she tried to find a more comfortable spot. On the other side of the backseat, Trent frowned out the window. Okay, so maybe I was going a little fast, but I'd been driving a huge, frustrating zigzag for the last four hours. I had raced down I-40, then gone south on 602 to get in front of them, as Ivy had suggested. We had, only to see them rise up right over the car and swear at us. We spent another hour on 61, watching them go a rather speedy forty miles an hour, paralleling us until we roared ahead to where 191 crossed their theoretical path. They simply flew higher, shooting arrows at us when I demanded they stop.
From there, we'd taken 191 north in an effort to get back to the interstate. We didn't know the next time we'd find gas, and Ms. Worries-a-lot in the front seat next to me was getting fidgety. By now, Ivy had enough data points to predict where they'd cross the road next. I was hoping that if we could get far enough ahead of them in time, I could hide behind a rock and simply catch them in a big bubble. Every time they saw the car, they raced out of my reach.
Right now, they were somewhere behind us, me going about eighty and the pixies hitting a steady forty miles an hour. It was their top speed-which meant Trent was wrong and that this was a planned snag-and-drag; pixies couldn't go that fast for that long. They were switching off and carrying Jenks. Carrying Jenks who knew where.
It was about two in the afternoon and hot. I was frazzled and ready to snap. Ivy wasn't much better, leaning over the seat to shake Vivian awake every half hour in case she had a concussion-which was totally pissing off the coven woman. Trent had been up for only a few minutes, but he already looked bored, staring out the window and clearly irate that the time he'd made was being wasted. It was all I could do not to reach over the seat and slap him.
As I fidgeted, Ivy rolled her window down to let in a warm blast of air, overpowering the hefty air-conditioning my mom's car had. Her eyes had gotten dark and her posture was tense. She wasn't hot, she was randy, and I rolled my window down a bit as well.
"I think they stopped," she said, eying the amulet. "Somewhere by 180. See?"
She held out the map with her notations and calculations. I didn't look, teeth clenched as I blew past a van with a wizard painted on the side.
"Rachel?"
"Just tell me what road to take," I muttered.
She pulled a strand of her blowing hair out of her mouth. "The next exit," she said, putting on a pair of dark glasses to hide her eyes. "You're going to have to go north for a few miles before it loops around and goes under the interstate."
"More backtracking?" Trent said, hardly audible.
"Shut up! Just shut up!" I yelled, then exhaled, trying to relax. "I mean, I understand your concern," I said softly. "I'll get you to the West Coast in time if I have to buy a trip for you from Newt." If only Al would've jumped me there, but he wanted me to fail. "But if you don't shut up, I'm going to pull this car over and shove you in the trunk!"
Trent sighed and shifted his knees, and Ivy looked up from the map, eyebrows raised.
"I'm trying," I said softly to her. "He's got about as much empathy as a demon. It's always me, me, me. What if it had been Quen who was kidnapped? I bet he'd be all over that like pixies on elf trash."
Trent cleared his throat, and I huffed. Point made.
"You want me to drive for a while?" Ivy said. "You need a break."
"No, I've got this," I said quickly, then added, "If I don't do something, I'll snap."
I waited for Jenks's comment that I had already snapped, but of course it never came. Checking the speedometer, I pressed the accelerator. We had to stay in front of them, and there was a whole lot of distance left.
"We'll find him," Ivy said, the amulet getting dark as she set it aside to fold up the map.
Silent, I scanned the distant horizon for cops, my senses stretching as I took in every nuance of light and shadow. Jenks was out there somewhere. My stomach clenched. This shouldn't have happened. He didn't need me to watch him, but this altitude thing had caught us all by surprise. I should have made him take that curse.
Ivy shook the map out with a rattle. "Trent, jiggle Vivian. Ask her what her name is."
"My name is Vivian," the irate witch grumbled, clearly awake. "And if you touch me, Kalamack, I'll turn your hair pink. I do not have a concussion! Leave me alone and let me sleep!" In a huff, she repositioned herself in the corner, her feet kicking the back of my seat as she shook out my mom's shabby car blanket and rearranged it over her head.
"I think she's fine," Trent said sourly as he looked out at the changing nothing.
The car was full of unhappy people heading west. It was the Great American Family Road Trip, all right. Whaaa-hoo!
I sniffed, my stomach hurting from too much stress and not enough food. I was upset, but it was hard not to see the scenery and call it beautiful. It was nothing but dirt and rock, but it looked clean, pure, the angles and gullies standing out in the strong sun. I could tell that Trent was hot with the window open and the air-conditioning going full bore, but I was comfortable. He'd have to suck it up.
"That's our exit," Ivy said suddenly, and I slowed, not wanting to take it at ninety miles an hour. Trent sighed again, and I tapped the brake to shake him up.
"It's a state park," I said, seeing the faded PETRIFIED FOREST sign. "Maybe this is where they're heading."
"The Petrified Forest?" Trent said, sounding interested. "I read about this place."
Ivy leaned forward. "Everyone who's been to school has read about this place."
"I've never been here," Trent said, his words clipped as he tried to hide his interest. "It's not the kind of thing that-"
"They let you do, huh?" I finished for him, pissed for some reason. I'm chasing down my partner from kidnappers, and Trent's more interested in chunks of rock?
Ivy handed the map to him over the seat. "Now's your chance, Johnny Boy Scout," she said, apparently not needing it anymore. "We're going right through it."
My heart gave a thump before settling into a faster pace. There was a park-ranger hut straddling the road. Crap. "Vivian? Are you going to give us any trouble? Tell me now."
"Just let me sleep," she grumbled. "Let me sleep, and I'll sign a paper that you're a fucking angel."
"I didn't know they let coven members talk like that," Trent said dryly, probably trying to cover his curiosity, but he was leaning forward, wanting to see more.
"Fuck you, Kalamack," the usually posh woman shot back.
Oh yeah. We were all having fun now.
Ivy shrugged, so I pulled up and rolled my window completely down.
"Hi. Can we have a day pass?" I asked after reading the rates painted on the brown sign.
"That will be five fifty," the weathered woman said, and Trent shoved some money at me over the seat.
"Let me get you a receipt," she said, ducking inside her window to hit a few buttons. "Are you camping?" she said as she leaned back out and handed me a receipt stapled to a brochure. "We don't suggest it this time of year. And you'll need to take a class before you can get your camp permit. If you're not prepared, the desert can be deadly. The class just takes twenty minutes."
Twenty minutes to preserve your life? I thought. Is that all? "We've got lots of water."
Seeing Trent's eager hand on the seat, at my shoulder, I handed him the brochure, and he settled back like a kid with a new toy.
"It's not just the water, it's the heat and elevation," the ranger said, her gaze on Vivian. "Is she okay?"
The bar ahead of us was still down, and I took a deep breath.
"Too much partying," Trent said over the crackle of new paper, surprising me. "She's not even going to get out of the car."
The ranger smiled, and the bar rose. "The gift shop is up on the right. If you change your mind about the class, they start every half hour."
"Thanks," I said, wanting to floor it, but she hadn't given me our sticker yet.
"Well, enjoy the park. There's a large group of Weres out at the hotel for a company retreat, but other than that, all the exhibits are open."
Finally the little yellow sticker was stuck to the inside of my window, and I exhaled, turning it into something I could blame on the heat instead of relief. "Thanks! Bye now!"
Waving, the woman went back into her air-conditioned hut, and I crept forward at the posted forty miles an hour. After blowing down the interstate at ninety, it felt like I was crawling. I started to fidget.
"It says here the average person needs a gallon of water per day," Trent said, reading from the brochure. "How much do we have?"
"None." I eyed the empty water bottles in the cup holders. "It's twenty miles to any road. I think we'll be okay."