Yee Naldooshi

By

Doctor Fox

Chapter 1

Suddenly, Jimmy Choo biker boots seemed like a poor choice for a ride into the countryside. Even Jimmy Choo boots bought off eBay. Julie glared at Mo as her friend fought to control the aging car.

Morgan Baker, known as Mo to her friends, wrestled the car to the side of the gravel road, a whump whump whump sound from the front of the vintage Honda causing her to wince. Low hanging tree branches scraped the paint along the outside of the car. A flat tire from the sound of it, and from the way Mo had to fight to get the car stopped safely. Once stopped, she took a deep breath, glancing out the window and taking in the empty surroundings, a countryside devoid of housing and people.

Julie Steiger, the only other person in the car, looked down at her iconic gold-studded boots that were guaranteed to look good with skinny leg jeans and then stared out the windshield, lips pressed into an uncompromising line. "Dammit, Morgan, what did you run over? I told you I should drive."

Mo, who was only called Morgan when Julie was in a pissy mood, glared at her singing partner, green eyes narrowed. "I drive, always. And I didn't run over anything except bugs and rocks. You're the one who gave directions." She jabbed her finger at Julie's shoulder. "You are the one who sent us out here on this wild goose chase."

With a loud sigh, Julie grabbed the door handle that still featured manual window controls and slowly pushed open the door, grunting with the effort it took to push the door against the tree branches pressed against the side of the car.

"What are you doing? You're going to scratch the side of the car. Crawl over here and get out." Mo opened her door easily and climbed out to look at the tire. She ignored the grumbling from inside the car as Julie tried to clamber over the center console, cursing as her knee hit the dashboard.

She looked at the tire. Not just flat, part of the sidewall was missing. Mo bent to look at the tire, absently listening as Julie racked her head on the ceiling of the car. If she didn't know better, it almost looked like the tire was shot, but everyone knew that shooting the tire of a moving vehicle was difficult, and who would want to shoot at her anyway?

Dirt kicked up beside her, followed by the crack of gunfire. Mo fell back onto the gravel road in surprise, feeling the bite of the gravel through her thin yoga pants, then stared in amazement when the driver's side window shattered, accompanied by another explosion of noise. Julie began screaming. "Someone is shooting at us. Get us out of here!"

Mo scrambled to her feet and leaped for the open door of the car, throwing herself into the seat and pulling the door shut behind her. She reached across and pushed Julie's head down. "Julie, stop it! Stop screaming." She groped under the seats, then pulled a pistol from its holster, taking care to stay low.

Julie whimpered, raised her head to look out the window, then shrieked as the crack of a gunshot blasted the Honda. She looked at Mo. "I should have bought a gun, too."

Mo spared a glance at Julie Steiger and swallowed an I-told-you-so. She turned her attention to her cell phone. No signal.

"Julie? We are sitting ducks here. Can you remember from the GPS if there is some place near here?"

No answer.

"Steiger! Come on, wake up. Where is the nearest town? We've got to get out of here,"

Julie's panicked gaze spotted the GPS. She stared at it. "The only place close is the fish camp, but that is about 10 miles from here. Or we can try to get back to the main road."

They stared at each other, appalled. Ten miles. On a flat tire. With a gunman shooting at the car.

"What about your map that led us out here? Anything on it?"

Julie scrutinized the small map. "I can't tell!" she wailed. "There are marks on here, but I don't know what they mean!"

"When we get back to civilization, I'm going to hurt you," Mo promised. "Looks like we hike back to the main road."

"I can't hike in these boots!" protested Julie.

"Of course you can! I don't care what you paid for them.."

"No, really. These will slow us down. Is your workout bag still in the back?"

Mo frantically turned in her seat to look in the rear of the car. Spying her gym bag, she quickly unzipped it and found sneakers. She scooped them up and dumped them in Julie's lap. "Hurry up. We have got to get moving!"

Quickly Mo changed her boots for sneakers. "Ready," she announced.

"Grab your bag. I will come around and get your door open, then we haul ass. We'll stay in the trees and see if that protects us a little," she said. "1. 2. 3!"

Mo threw open her door and ran to Julie's side. Pulling tree branches out of the way, she helped pull open the door so Julie could safely exit. Crouching low, the two ducked branches and fled into the forest. Gunshots followed them into the woods, which were denser than they liked. Low-hanging branches whacked them in the face, slippery leaves on the ground caused them to slide, and exposed roots tripped them up as they frantically ran.

The trees and distance muffled the gunshots then the sound of gunfire faded altogether. They kept running. The two needed to get back to the main road and find a good Samaritan to drive them back to town and then they had to figure out would shoot at them. Hunters could be ruled out, and ok, sure, there were a few people back in town who might want to take a crack at them, but out here in the middle of nowhere? It didn't make any sense.

"I hate nature," grunted Mo as she tripped and yet another shrub glanced her face and tangled in her hair. Julie stopped and came back to lend her a hand. Mo rose, then groaned and grabbed her side. "I've got to stop for a minute. This running is killing me!" Panting, both women dropped to the ground to rest while the stomach cramp subsided.

"Hey, if you hadn't ruined the car, we wouldn't be in this mess," replied Julie in a hard, unforgiving tone.

"I didn't ruin the car!" snapped Mo.

"That car was a piece of crap anyway," Julie snorted. It was true; it was a piece of crap. The windshield wipers worked sporadically, jerking through each swipe. The windshield had a film caused by years of build-up. The rear passenger door wouldn't open because the lock had seized. The shocks had long ago ceased to offer any protection from bumps, yet for some reason, Mo insisted on driving the beater 20 miles out of town, leaking oil and transmission fluid along every inch of the way.

"Those bullet holes aren't going to do anything for your trade in value," she said snidely. Julie was pretty sure that she could hear Mo grunt after that comment.

Mindful of who could be following, they got back to their feet, and the two women suffered through what seemed like a mile or two of walking. They tried to keep quiet as possible, which meant reducing the bickering to only when it was necessary to express dissatisfaction with their current predicament.

Julie didn't mind the complaining. Thinking about their friendship took her mind off their circumstances momentarily. Complaining and blaming the other for one thing or another, whether true or not, had become somewhat natural. She knew what that bickering was, Mo understood it, too; unbeknownst to onlookers, it was a healthy way of maintaining their relationship. Singers who moonlighted as amateur detectives didn't have an easy life, especially two women in man's world. Bottling up that emotion would only result in high blood pressure and someone blowing a gasket. Blowing a gasket…

"You know, it was only a matter of time before that ugly car of yours blew a head gasket. You should be feeling good, maybe insurance will pay you enough for a down payment on a new car." Steiger was just trying to grate Mo's nerves and Mo knew it. A few paces later, Julie wasn't sure if Mo intentionally held that tree branch so it would slap her in the face like a loaded rubber band, or if it was just by accident. Julie was skeptical, as usual.

"Listen, we're going to hit the road anytime now. We've been walking forever. You need to relax." Julie knew when it was time to be the peace keeper. They had obviously left the gunman behind. Their only worry now was reaching the road. Mo was stressed. Ok, not stressed. Mo was pissed, and sometimes she took a while to work off the anger. Julie had an innate sense of direction and knew they'd be safe soon. It was time to ease Mo back into the spirit of adventure that they so adored enjoying together.

"Hey, was that a car? I think I just heard a car." Julie was sure of it and dashed ahead, with Mo running behind her. Sure enough, after climbing up and down a ditch with an embankment that added more filth to their already dirty hands and left their knees stained with mud, they arrived at the edge of the major roadway.

"Alright, show some leg, Mo. We need a ride, and fast. It's getting frickin cold out here." The sun was beginning to set. They could see their breath in the cool evening air.

"You're so much better at being slutty, Steiger, you show some leg. And flash some cleavage while you're at it."

"LISTEN, Morgan…" Just as they were about to get into a shouting match, a truck appeared. Not a city dweller's truck, this was a farm truck cruising along at a slow pace. They both looked at the approaching vehicle. To Julie, it was neither a car nor a truck… it was a chariot. Their chariot. Their chariot was coming to their rescue to sweep them up out of the cruel wilderness, which was rife with bugs, dirt and other unsanitary things, to deliver them back to humanity, to civilization. Their chariot was slowing down and pulling over to the side of the road. Julie entertained a brief fantasy, hoping that the driver was reminiscent of Brad Pitt whilst wearing the kilt-like thing that he wore in Troy. Mo merely hoped a chain-saw wielding mutant was not at the wheel.

As the truck rolled to a stop just in front of them, they could see the driver lean over the bench seat, and roll down the window about 4 inches.

"Ya'll need a ride?"

He wasn't Brad Pitt.

Nor was he a look-alike.

Rather, Mo was certain that this individual was missing a tooth. Maybe more than one tooth. And what was that smell?

"Yes, please!" said Steiger heading up to the window.

"Git on in here then. It's gettin' cold out there."

The helpful farmer opened the heavy door of his ancient truck and the two private investigators took their places on the bench seat. Julie was kind enough to hold the door and allow Mo to sit in the middle, square right in front of the floor gear shift. That left Julie sitting on an exposed spring covered with a ratty bath towel.

Despite the discomfort associated with this ride into town, they were both happy they were making it back to town. Mo quietly thought to herself that vehicles with a center gear shift should be outlawed since changing gears made things a bit too personal for the person riding in the middle. Meanwhile, Julie was simply amazed that this 1970's pickup truck was far more comfortable and reliable than Mo's ugly Honda. In fact, she was happy that thing was gone.

As the rusty old Ford pickup rumbled off, a dark figure stepped out of the brush and watched the two women head down the road. Lucky timing for them. Not so lucky for himself. He tossed his hair, the long black strands flowing back over his shoulder. He lowered the muzzle of his gun, keeping a firm grip on the stock, and silently eased back into the forest.