The sun was scorching hot.
But Mike had the covering of the Monkee mobile down, Davy and Micky sat in the back, gripping tight on the backseats as they'd removed their seatbelts long ago.
On any other day, Mike would have yelled at them. It wasn't the safest thing to do, considering the fact they were currently racing down an almost empty desert road well over the speed limit. They couldn't afford a speeding ticket.
But right now they had more pressing matters to address.
Like the fact that Peter and a burly man were on the bed of an old pickup truck playing tug of war with the world's most expensive rope.
"Peter! it's too dangerous to be fightin 'up there! Get back into the car!" Mike yells, tone harsher than intended, but there's fear evident in his eyes, daring to take them off the thankfully empty road to look at Peter.
Peter knows that if he were to face him he'd see that fear. Not only on Mike but Micky and Davy, as they grew increasingly worried every time the pick-up would swerve. Peter hated making them worry.
But he had to do this.
"My dear Artie bought me the necklace for our first anniversary," Mrs. Bell, an antique woman whose days of youthful beauty had passed long before they'd been born, explained to them after a pair of thieves had broken into her large estate. Stealing the pearl and diamond necklace worth more than a two-story home on the beach.
Mrs. Bell had been kind to them, feeding them generously before they played for her party and had even offered them to take home as much as they could carry from the leftover food table (they could eat for a week based solely on what Micky had grabbed) before realizing the necklace had gone missing from her room.
It was the utter heartbreak in her eyes that had gotten to Peter.
"Let go of it ya long-haired freak!" the thief growled at him, struggling to remain upright as the truck swerved for the hundredth time. Peter briefly wondered where the other thief had learned to drive.
"This doesn't belong to you! You… you meanie!" Peter argued as he pulled the necklace towards him, ignoring the way a pointed jewel dug into his palm.
The thief sent him a murderous glare, but Peter refused to back down., he didn't want to disappoint Mrs. Bell.
"We can call the police, just get in, man!" Micky yells, daring to lean out further, Davy grips onto his shirt tightly in response.
"Peter! We can always get it later! Mrs. Bell would understand-" Davy tried to reason desperately, he'd rather not have one of his befriends be beat to a pulp by a jewel thief.
With a knot in his stomach, Mike pressed further down on the gas pedal. His knuckles turning white as he feared losing control. He desperately needed to keep up with that truck. To keep up with Peter.
Peter shook his head, the wind whipping through his hair, though exhaustion was starting to make itself known through his aching arms.
But then he saw it. A single pearl slipping through the sweaty hands of the jewel thief. He could win this.
Taking advantage of the thief's weakening grip, Peter pulled.
Hard.
When he felt a very obvious pull as the thief's strength gave way Peter smiled brightly. He turned towards the others.
"Guys! I think I have it-"
The necklace snapped.
Peter lost his balance.
It was a blur of movement to him. He felt his legs trip over the walls of the truck bed and suddenly he was in the air. The midday sun blinded him as he reached up for something and nothing. He heard his name being yelled horrfied.
Then there was pain, then nothing but black.
Peter woke up with a gasp.
He first noticed the wind blowing his hair, more gently than before. Above him the sky was darker, melting into red that blurred into gold towards the setting sun over the high rocks of the California desert.
How long had he been out?
Peter shakily stood, as his knees felt weak, taking in the empty landscape with a heavy heart. He was alone.
And though it hurt to know that the others left him, he hoped they'd been able to catch the thieves and get the necklace - well, the two halves of it- back to Mrs. Bell. He hoped Mike wouldn't be too mad that he hadn't listened.
Peter shook the sand off him and his hair before setting out down the empty road.
He only had to walk back where they came from, right? It was his safest option since he didn't know where the road would lead him. Better safe than sorry as his Nan used to say.
Peter walked.
And walked.
And walked.
And walked until he felt like he was wearing down the already worn down souls of his shoes.
The sky had darkened above him, the sun's final rays disappearing over the rocky hills, a gust of wind blew through his hair and Peter shivered. Though his feet were starting to ache he was glad that he didn't have to walk under the scalding sun. he hadn't brought sunscreen.
On any other day, a walk through the desert would have been nice, especially near the evening. But with the lack of familiar banter, he was mostly bored.
The stars had come out and Peter felt like he had been walking for an eternity. At certain points, he would break out into a jog or a run, but the almost endless sandy landscape revealed nothing new, making it feel like no matter how long he walked he was getting nowhere.
Throughout his walk Peter had hoped to hear the sound of a car approaching, meaning that the others had come back for him to take him home, where Mike would scold him about standing on a moving vehicle, and Micky and Davy would go on about how they were glad he was safe. But the road remained empty. Not even a random stranger passing by.
Peter came to a stop, his feet ached and he was cold. What he wouldn't give to be at the pad with the others. Before he knew it tears were pricking at his eyes. He looked away from the empty land around him and up to the beautiful night sky. He didn't have Micky's jokes to distract him, Davy to break out into songs or dancing, or even the familiar comfort Mike always seemed to bring with him.
Peter tried to blink away the tears. there was no one there to comfort him.
He was about to give up, fall to the ground and finally rest Until music reached his ears.
It was so very faint, but he could make out a trumpet being played for all its worth and the steady beat of the drums.
Peter quickly turned to the direction it came, spotting the faint glow of lights in the distance.
How had he missed that?
Despite the exhaustion plaguing him, he broke out into a run towards the music.