Connor's eyes flew open as he felt the gravity warp around him and, to his horror, realized the bus was leaving the road.
Instinctively, he reached over and braced Madeline, who was holding onto him with one hand, with his arm while holding onto his seat with white knuckles with the other hand. The bus was falling to the side of the highway, where the ground dropped away to a deep ditch filled with stray trees. The left side of the bus, where Connor and Madeline sat, was lifting off the ground. With a violent jerk, the bus's descent was abruptly stopped when its right side crashed into a tree a few hundred feet away from the road. The screams that had been filling the small air of the bus stopped with the crash as everyone's faces were plastered with looks of fear and shock.
"Connor," Madeline chocked out.
"Are you okay?" he asked, looking at her face, which had gone pale.
"We have to get out of here," she said in a small voice.
"What?" he asked, breathing heavy.
"Something's here. Or two somethings. I'm not sure. But we have to leave. Now."
Before he could say anything back, she stepped over his legs and hoisted her bag onto her shoulder as she ran off the bus. Connor paused only for a moment before following after her.
He heard the bus driver call after them but didn't stop to hear what he said as he ran to catch up with Madeline as she scrambled up the side of the hill, grabbing at the hillside dirt and dry shrubbery with her bare hands, not wasting a single moment. He came up from the ditch next to her on the road, catching his breath, and caught her arm as she began to walk away.
"Mads, hold up! What happened?"
She looked at him and swallowed with her dry throat before answering.
"There were these two guys on motorcycles. But they're gone now," she added in a confused tone, looking down the stretch of highway and seeing no such motorcycles.
"I don't see what's so bad about that," he said cautiously, trying not to antagonize her. "But if you think something's up, let's go"
Madeline looked at him gratefully for assuring her she wasn't crazy and then began walking down the side of the road.
As they walked along the side of the highway for the next few miles, she kept glancing over her shoulder as if expecting to be attacked by those bikers again.
"I don't know what's really going on, but I know," Connor said next to her, "we're gonna have to borrow a car."
"By borrow you mean steal," Madeline said in a calm tone, realizing he was right. They couldn't risk public transportation again. Something was after them.
"Yeah," Connor said looking down at her weary face. She was obviously thinking too much about what had happened, which he still didn't fully understand.
"Cheer up," he told her in a lighthearted attempt to get her to smile. She looked at him sadly and blinked before looking back at the road ahead of them, the loud cars passing by and causing a wind that blew her hair around. He brushed a curl behind her ear and let his hand linger on her cheek. She leaned her head into his touch and brought up her hand to hold his.
"Can you even drive?" she asked suddenly, confused and coming out of her daze.
"I learned over the years. Travis and I kept ourselves entertained."
Madeline laughed softly at this as they came to one of the highway's exit. They walked away from the busy road and came out to a small town's plaza. Apparently, there were in a Old Lyme, Connecticut, a few hundred miles separating them from their destination.
"At least we're already halfway there," she said hopefully.
Connor led them to the back of a department store where employee cars were parked.
"I know we're demigods, " Madeline said, "but mortal laws still apply to us. I'm not sure about thi-"
Connor turned around scanned the area, interrupting her.
"There," he said pointing at something she couldn't see, "there, and there. That's where the security cameras are. So," he added, walking over to a seemingly random car, "this car is in a blind spot."
Madeline looked at him with conflicted admiration.
"Impressive. And worrying. I'm dating a skilled criminal."
"Well," he said with a smug smirk, "I am the son of the God of Thieves."
Connor pulled out something small from his pocket and was opening the car door the next moment. He hopped into the driver's seat and reached across to open Madeline's door.
With a sigh, she sat down next to him.
"We're hijacking some poor person's car," she said sullenly.
Connor looked at her with an amused smile that she couldn't help but smile back at. She glanced in the rear view mirror and then out the window.
"Just hurry up, before I change my mind about this."
Connor reached down and pressed a button, popping open the trunk of the car. Walking around the pack of the vehicle and lifting the metal door open, Madeline could hear him rummaging around for something, her anxiety growing. He returned quickly, a tool box in his hands, and closed the driver side door behind him.
"Gladly," he replied, placing the tool box in between them. Pulling out a screwdriver and changing its head several times, he stuck the tool in the ignition, grinning proudly at the purr of the engine. She rolled her eyes at him and smiled nervously.
They drove for the next few hours, small town after small town passing by them as they neared Madeline's home. After several hundred miles of laughing and joking, putting the previous events behind them, the gas tank of their "borrowed" car started to beep and blink in protest.
"Make it quick," Madeline pleaded as they pulled into a gas station.
"You should get us some candy while I fill the tank," Connor said causally, as if they weren't in a stolen vehicle.
Madeline shook her head at his good mood and hopped out of the car. She heard him clicking the gas nozzle into the car when she pushed open the convenient store door, a bell chiming overhead. She paid for the gas at the counter to a bored looking, middle aged man and then went to browse through the large selection of candy the place had to offer. After a minute, she had decided on a bag of chips and several candy bars.
As she paid for the goods at the counter, Madeline looked outside through the large store windows and nearly stopped breathing.
Pulling into the gas station with their loud engines, a mere few feet away from Connor, were the two gnarly motorcycles from before, the same menacing flames surrounding their mean looking metal bodies with their equally mean looking riders.
She stifled a gasp, almost forgetting her things as she sprinted past the motorcycles and to her clueless boyfriend. She grabbed Connor's wrist, ready to yank him into the car and drive away. But when she turned around to look at the bikers, they were gone.
Madeline let her grip drop from her startled boyfriend's wrist and slowly walked over to the spot where they had been a moment before.
She let out an exasperated huff and stared at the empty space.
"Uh," Connor asked cautiously, "hey, what's up?"
"They were here again!" Madeline answered angrily, turning around in the spot where she stood, throwing her hands in the air. She blinked and let her tone soften before saying, "The two from before. From the bus. They're the ones that made us crash."
"C'mon," Connor told her, getting into the car. Madeline looked at the spot for a second longer before turning and walking to the car, worry furrowing her eyebrows.
They pulled away from the gas station and drove for a few minutes in silence before Connor asked, "Who'd you see?"
"They were the same ones from earlier, the ones who made the bus crash," Madeline said again, sounding distant. "There were two of them, on red motorcycles. I swear I saw them, but then they disappeared, just like before. I swear I saw them..."
Connor thought about it for a moment before saying, "I don't know who they are, but let's just get to your house before anything else happens."
Madeline nodded in agreement, looking out the window again.
Usually it was Madeline in the relentlessly cheery mood, but now, seeing how worried she was about whatever was following them, Connor had to make an attempt at that role. He hated the way her usually smiling lips were turned down at the corners in her state of gloom and spent the rest of the drive trying to get her to past her worry. She started to relax while they were deciphering the map from the car's glove compartment together and eating candy, but he knew she wouldn't truly feel better until they reached her house, and her father.
Connor didn't think about it much, but in the few moments when his thoughts drifted, her felt a new kind of fear. He hadn't ever met any girls' father before; especially not the father of the girl he was dating. Even though Madeline was convinced her dad would love him, Connor wasn't so sure.
He figured Travis wouldn't be much help, since the few, very brief times he had met Katie's father at the beginning and end of the summer weren't much to take notes from. It was awkward enough thinking about talking to his brother about it, so he didn't ask Katie or any of his sisters. Connor also didn't mention it to Madeline because he didn't want to worry her about it. He had no idea what to expect when they finally reached her house.
After about another half hour, they were finally in Rhode Island.
Madeline smiled at this and seemed to breathe easier as they got closer. She didn't need the map anymore as they entered her hometown. It was a friendly, small suburban place with happy looking houses and glimpses of rocky beaches everywhere you looked.
They were driving down a road, lined with dense plants and vines, that turned to dirt and opened up to a large field that held Madeline's home about a mile the distance.
It was a large white house that sat on the edge of a cliff, the beach not too far below with its crashing waves and warm sand.
Madeline was so glad to see her home, but her heart dropped when she saw the two familiar motorcycles and their riders blocking their path, stomping out whatever hope she had been left to hold onto with their heavy combat boots.
"Oh no," she said, the terror audible in her voice as she covered her mouth with her hands, her eyes widening in fear.
'This can't be happening,' she thought desperately.