Chapter Seven
Disclaimer: 3 little ducks went out one day
Over the hills and far away
Mother duck said 'quack, quack, quack, quack'
But only 2 little ducks came back
Author's note: I'm not quite sure what a ute is called in America, but it is a vehicle with one row of seats in the front, then a large open tray in the back, generally driven by hicks and yokels. Maybe a pickup truck?
Mfkgnst: I can't help feeling that you live in the same time zone as me. Your review came within an hour of me posting. Not bad. But are you a Hobart, Melbourne, Sydney, Canberra or Brisbane gal? Maybe somewhere further north on a different continent? Either that or I'm completely wrong and you just stay up really late. Anyway, thanks for the review. 'Our beautiful pretender' has been through quite a bit, I can make no promises... Sorry, I won't give it away. Read on --
zeilfanaat: Wow, you know they mean it when they put asterixs on the please. Well, anyway, here you are. Updated like you demanded.
Suspensewriter: Pay attention. Yes, Jarod was being tortured in chapter five. He escaped. Through the vents. That's how he was in the vents outside Sydney and Parker's cell. That's why it's really him now leading the way out of the Centre. It's not that hard to follow.
ICD: OK, I believe you. Nah, really, it's cool. Sometime extenuating cricumstances do stop people from reviewing. #narrows eyes suspiciously#
Brandy: There was a lot of excitment in your review. You used the word 'love' on four seperate occasions. Thanks though, I love that you loved it.
Nancy: Yeah, cries of horror due usually indicate that something ain't right.
gemini006007: Back to normal? Oh Mercy, how little do you suspect...
Pretender Fanatic: Calm down. Now breathe. Breathe! Wait, don't. They're nowhere near out yet. Muhahaha! They're going to go through a hell of a lot still. And hey, it's going to be cliff hangers all the way. KUTGWRS.
Jill: Only rather good?
Ruby Fuhlrodt: OK, I will. Enjoy.
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Jarod smiled wanly at the two of them, his face ashen where it was not black and purple with bruising. His hair was matted with blood and a dark stain spread slowly across his t-shirt. He was missing several fingernails and two of his fingers were twisted at strange angles. He kept most of his weight off one foot and severe burn marks were visible on his neck. Parker didn't want to speculate about what injuries he sported under his clothes.
'It could be worse' offered Jarod, before spitting out some blood. 'How exactly?' asked Parker faintly, wondering how Jarod was still standing. Jarod shook his head. 'We have to keep moving.' He hobbled towards the nearest car (which happened to be a somewhat decrepit looking old ute, probably belonging to one of the many computer technicians), Sydney hurrying after him. Parker shook herself and followed. Leaning against the car, Jarod turned to Parker. 'I need your jacket'
'What?'
'Your jacket' he repeated, holding his hand out. Parker took it off and handed it over, working on auto pilot due to the shock of seeing Jarod the way he was. She only realised too late what he was going to do. He quickly wrapped his hand in it and punched through the car window, biting his lip hard to keep from screaming in pain. It didn't matter- the car alarm went off. A few moments later a swarm of sweepers poured out of the doors of the Centre. Sydney reached in through the broken window then unlocked the door, opening it to allow Jarod to sit down. The pretender recovered and bent under the dash board. Parker couldn't see what he was doing but the noise stopped. A few seconds later the engine chugged to life. Sitting up, Jarod smiled in triumph.
'Get in'
Parker stared at him in disbelief. 'You can barely stand.'
'We don't have time to argue'
'Jarod, you're not the only one that can drive here' she told him fiercely
'I'm the only one that can evade them' he replied, indicating the sweepers that had split up and were circling around to surround them. Sunlight could be seen glinting off gun metal, and a short distance away the sound of a motor roared to life. A thrill went down Parker's spine as she noticed them. Sydney was already in with his seatbelt on. Parker wavered for a moment then hurried around to the passenger side and crammed in next to Sydney- there were three seats across the front. She barely had the door closed when Jarod gunned the engine and sped forwards.
'Seatbelts on' he warned them, as the car swerved around a sweeper. Bullets thudded into the side of the vehicle. Jarod made it out of the car park and onto the asphalt road that led down to the gates out of the Centre. Parker's eyes widened as she saw that the huge metal gates that marked the end of Centre property were closed, and that a line of gun toting sweepers stood in front of them. 'I recommend you duck' said Jarod. Seconds later the windscreen shattered as bullets screamed through it.
Miss Parker could feel Sydney trembling next to her as the ute accelerated further. Jarod was going to live free or die trying. She prayed the gates would give way. There was more gunfire, only some of it missing. There was the sound of engines behind them; apparently there was cars giving chase. 'Brace!' yelled Jarod over the pepper of bullets, then yanked the handbrake on. Parker was slammed against the seat belt as the car's wheels screeched in pain. They spun a nauseating 180° and Parker recovered just in time to see a black town car go shooting past them and straight through the gates, scattering sweepers to either side.
Wrenching on the gear stick to put the ute in reverse, Jarod took the hand brake off and stepped on the accelerator. Parker and Sydney were thrown forwards as they sped backwards through the gate then squashed sideways as he turned the ute just before they hit the wreck of the town car. Now perpendicular to the road, Jarod crunched through the gears again, swinging in a wide circle and back onto the asphalt. The thudding of bullets into the ute slowed then ceased as they sped away. Parker took a deep breath and realised it was the first one she had taken in a while. Looking back she saw the Centre rapidly shrinking into the distance, small dark figures beginning to climb out of the wreckage of the smashed car.
Once they had travelled a short distance up the freeway, Sydney broke the silence in the car. 'They're not chasing us Jarod. Pull over so we can swap drivers'
'I can't Sydney. If I stop now I will collapse. We have to keep going until we get somewhere safe.'
'Jarod....'
'Matheson's technique Sydney. I can't stop now.'
Sydney looked less than pleased at this news. 'What?' asked Parker, feeling she was missing something from this exchange. 'Matheson's technique involves concentrating on something to the point of completely ignoring the body. It's dangerous. You can push yourself to death if you are not careful.' Sydney told her. Parker looked at Jarod. His jaw was clenched as he stared at the road and he gripped the wheel hard. It seemed impossible that he was even conscious, let alone driving. She felt her gut twist in worry. 'Where's the closest place we can stop?' she asked Jarod. 'Not far.' He replied. Parker accepted this. What else could she do? She just hoped that Jarod hadn't already gone too far.
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Authors note: I made up Matheson's technique- call it artistic license- although horses have been known to run themselves to death during a race or a hunt. Either way, don't try it at home.
TBC.