Another chapter, already! Yeay. A few things about this chapter: I'm not exactly sure what police say when they report a car accident, so Ernie's lines may not be 100 accurate. Also, I know when you go back and reread it you have no idea why Sarah didn't just wait for the ambulance (I didn't) but keep in mind she's panicked, a convicted criminal was standing less than a foot from her, and she needs to find Ben and Abigail. So she's not thinking clearly. And I don't know if one can run with a broken rib, but I'm a writer, not a doctor. And she's filled with adrenaline. Oh, well. It's a good chapter anyway. At least I hope so.

Chapter Three

Riley, much as he hated to do it, had left his little red sports car back at the restaurant—over his dead body was any fifteen-year-old going to drive it. So it was Ben's boring beige sedan they drove back to the Gates domicile.

He thought it best not to talk to Sarah; she was still fuming. He didn't want to make her nervous by turning on the radio, either, but he soon discovered that watching her driving was enough entertainment. She gripped the steering wheel tightly, whipped around corners at the last minute, and talked to herself continuously. Whether this was a normal idiosyncrasy or something brought on by her anger at Abigail, he couldn't guess.

And then, less than halfway to the house outside of the city, something happened.

No one was sure what. Riley thought Sarah had skidded into something, some stupid insignificant obstacle embedded in the road. Sarah always maintained that the car broke down altogether and swung around to hit the guard rail. Whatever happened, the car first stopped and then crashed.

Sarah's breath was coming in oddly timed gasps, her lungs failing to contract when she wanted them to. Her rib had surely been crushed. Riley's window had shattered when a branch hit it, and as he was meticulously picking glass off of himself the branch forced its way into the car and whomped his forehead with surprising force. Sarah watched helplessly as he swayed and then slid to the car's floor.

She needed a cell phone, but whose? Her own was back at home, and she didn't know where Riley kept his. Unless a police car came by—and soon—they would be stranded there until someone decided to stop, and both of them needed immediate medical attention.

Panic made her breathe even more sharply, and she knew that unless she could calm down and regain her regular pattern of breathing she would pass out, too. Gently, she released her seat belt and let her hand creep into Riley's sweatshirt pocket. She discovered a tissue, some chewed-up gum, and a phone number messily scribbled on a scrap of paper—not her sister and brother-in-law's number. Hmmm. Her hand wandered into his side jean pocket now, and—there it was! A smooth, folded-up rectangle wedged deep in the pocket. She tried to drag it out, but it was nearly impossible with only one hand. A quick move of her left hand told her that arm was far too injured to be useful.

They'd be stuck here indefinitely, she knew, unless she could get that phone. Just as she was about to reach for it again, a police car pulled to a stop in front of them. Her eyes felt like they were pulling themselves away from her head as they strained to make sure it wasn't a mirage.

It wasn't.

This was too good to be true! She unrolled the window and dragged her hand out of Riley's pocket. A burly police officer arrived presently.

"Hey," she greeted him. "I guess we need, like, an ambulance."

"I'll say," he grunted. "Is this your car?"

"No, it's my brother-in-law's," she responded, hoping she wasn't going to be charged with anything. "I'm Sarah Chase. You probably know—"

"Holy crap! It's that computer whiz who masterminded that plot! Are you aware who you just knocked out, missy?" He glared.

She closed her eyes briefly. Duh. "Yes, sir, um…I'm Abigail Chase's sister. An ambulance…?"

He snapped out of his celebrity-induced stare. "Oh, yeah. My partner's calling one. We can't take you guys in the squad car 'cause we're transporting a hardened criminal." He sounded very proud of this fact. "But the ambulance will be here soon in any case. Can you please give me the number of your parent and/or guardian?"

"They're in New York." Her rib felt like it was cracking into pieces as they spoke, becoming a sort of bone confetti. "But I'm staying with my sister and brother-in-law here in D.C."

"Number?" The cop pulled out a cell phone. Sarah felt like grabbing it out of his hands and never letting it out of her sight.

Sarah dutifully gave the number and the cop dialed. "Hello? This is Ernie Sommers, of the Washington area police. I have here a teenage girl and the guy who helped steal the Declaration of Independence, in a '99 beige Camry that crashed along the highway out of the city." He put the phone against his shoulder and mouthed "What's your name?" to Sarah.

"Sarah Chase," she answered. "And this is Riley Poole."

"Says her name's Sarah Chase. The guy's name is Riley Poole. They'll be transported to the National Capital Hospital Emergency Room. We'll see you there." He hung up. "I got the answering machine."

Sarah groaned. "Of course. They're probably still at the restauraunt."

"Do you have their cell phone number?"

"No—"

Suddenly a roar erupted from the car in front of them—a roar so beastly and inhuman Sarah was surprised to see that it came from a man, a man with sharp angry features and wild blond hair. He was in the back of the police car, but even as Sarah watched he headbutted the cop driving the car and kicked his way out of the vehicle.

She recognized him, of course. She had never seen him in person, but he had been on the news and featured on the covers of the papers more than once over the last two months. At Abigail's bachelorette party, someone had even drawn a picture of him with devil horns and a tail. Her parents had jeered at him whenever his face flashed across the television screen. Abigail herself had scoffed when she heard his name, like it was an out-of-style shoe she no longer wanted to wear.

This was Ian Howe. He ran out of the police car with his hands cuffed behind his back and proceeded to beat up Ernie as best as he could. Sarah tried not to watch. Instead she laid her good hand on Riley's shoulder and tried to shake him awake. "Riley!" she half-whispered—if Ian heard the name, they were all in even more danger. "Riley!" He was done for if he didn't wake up, but with only one hand she couldn't shake him hard enough. He was completely out of it. She needed to save herself.

Pulling up the lock on the car door, she held onto her rib as she ran off down the side of the highway, back towards the city. Maybe she could catch Ben and Abigail before they left. Ernie had a gun, but Ian was a cold-blooded, resourceful villain. It couldn't be long before Ernie was injured or killed.

He was preoccupied with his battle, and he couldn't stop Sarah Chase as she raced off to the heart of the nation's capital, clutching her shattered rib as she hoped against hope time would let her find Ben and Abigail before Riley was discovered.

As cars whooshed past her at alarming speeds and clouds gathered on the horizon, it seemed almost impossible.