Hello again, you people. I'm back (again). Isn't this a glorious story? Yes, it is. It really is. And you wouldn't believe how fun it is to write it. I just it here in front of my computer, cackling, and switching from my novel, to my fan fiction, and then back again.

I was sick. Very sick. That is why I didn't update right away. I'm sorry.

I do however, have a sad piece of news to divulge. This summer, though I will review and write you whenever possible, I will not be publishing any more stories. There is no way I can get internet access at home, and of course the library won't let me download word documents and stuff. I think. (I'll talk to Jaydon about that. He might have an idea that works).

With the return of the school year, I will publish another piece. That is my solemn promise. (or at least my solemn hope; I know there are those of you who will hold me to my word.)

Because of lack of time, Iwill publish the rest of this story as often as possible (a chapter everyday), so please check for updates whenever you can. I like the reviews, but I get less if I publish chapters too close together.

aperfectattitude: Thanks, like always.

bookz: If you get this far, thanks.

Eva Evans: Thanks. I wrote you.

Fizzing Whizzbees: Thanks. Yes, it's Justin. Anyway, I write five pages. Sorry. Skip reading this.

Trouble Kelp: Thanks. Glad you agree.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything except the things I own. The things I own are the things not owned by Colfer. Colfer owns everything except the things I own. The things Colfer own are the things I do not own. :) Try that one, all you people who think you're the next Artemis Fowl.

Justin felt her fist connect with his face. It was not a pleasant experience. Not at all. He staggered backwards, held upright as he lost his balance by the motorcycle.

That did not last long. She caught hold of his foot with hers, twisting deftly, and sending him toppling over. The men were almost here, but he could tell they would not be here fast enough. Perhaps he should have switched off the motor anyways.

But it was too late now. Quickly, she turned the key, and screeched into the traffic, ignoring horns, and swerving cars.

Justin lay where he was on his back, eyes closed. When he opened them again, the men were standing over him, looking down. They were smiling. And trying very hard not to laugh.

"Fine. Laugh. But I'll be the one laughing when she does the same thing to you."

"Your face doesn't look very good."

"I can feel that."

"Just thought I'd let you know."

With a scowl, he stood. "She knows what's happening, and she's damned mad about it."

"Who told her?"

"Probably her brother. The Butler, in case some of you are wondering."

Awed nods. Justin scowled harder. "Come on. Let's go. Chance is going to be more than angry if we don't get our hands on her by the day after tomorrow. And you don't want to see him angry."

"Why does he have to have her by then?"

"Who knows? I think he made some kind of deal— bet, with someone. I'm not sure. I just know we'd better have her."

The phone rang. "What now?" he asked suspiciously, as he flipped it open. He could just imagine what those three he sent home were playing at in the manor. No good, that was for sure.

"We're following her. She's taking the highway loop down to the exit towards open country."

"Does she know you're following her?" Justin turned, jogging towards the car, and motioning for the men to follow. Andre headed back towards his motorcycle.

"Yeah. She doesn't seem to care though."

"Keep following her until she runs out of gas. She will in a little bit. Probably about twenty minutes. We'll see if we can find you. Keep an open line ready, and if she does anything funny, call right away. Once you've got her trapped, catch her. Make sure she doesn't hurt herself. Chance wants her alive."

"Right."

Justin hung up, swinging into the driver's seat, and putting the keys in the ignition. "Let's go!"

Juliet was getting worried. The motorcycle trick had been smooth, but they were following her, and she was running out of gas. And they knew it, she was sure. They were, after all, talking on the phone again. No doubt communicating with the jerk she'd taken it from.

She could go, maybe thirty more minutes, at the most. Twenty was the better guess though.

Ten minutes past. They had gone past the same spot five times. Juliet wasn't sure where she wanted to get off. She knew she had to get off soon though. She had to.

Behind her, the same car that she had seen pull over slid into the traffic beside the car that was already following her. And then ahead of her, the other motorcycle shot out.

They were boxing her in. And she had maybe five minutes left.

Juliet did the only left to do, she pulled of the loop, and onto a smaller, less congested road that ran along a river, ignoring them as they swung out after her. No time to think. She just had to do it.

Her tanks were about to give out now. She could tell.

At full speed, she swept through an empty lot, bounced over a curb, and shot out onto the river walk. The only one able to follow her would be the other motorcycle. Which it would, she was sure, to some extent. But not all the way.

Up ahead, the railing was broken.

Juliet gave it the rest of the gas, and shot over the edge into the air. Something the Dom would have not even thought about doing. He would have been appalled at the idea, and no doubt he would have also had some kind of sensible plan of action.

But sense wasn't going to help her here.

Juliet cut the engine, and stood up like a pro. Now for the tricky part. She didn't want to be tangled up in the bike when it hit the water. That would hurt. Worse than what she was about to do.

At the last moment, she dove, hitting the water with a resounding smack, and sinking out of view about ten feet from the motorcycle, that quickly followed with a last serenade of bubbles.

In the lot overlooking the river walk, there was silence. Astounded silence, and no less.

Then: "I don't suppose anyone got that on tape."

Liam looked up with a grin, holding his cell phone out for them to see. "How's a whole reel of pictures?"

Justin smiled slightly, in spite of himself. "I guess we'll need it too. No one's ever going to believe us otherwise."

"Are we going to go after her?" shouted Andre from below. "You might as well come on foot now. There's no way we're going to follow her in the cars. And I'll drive along the bank. I'm not so stupid as to follow her into that water."

"Sure you are," Liam shouted back cheerfully. "You're just afraid of the fish."

Someone locked the cars, and they all took off jogging along the bank, trying to be the first one to see her.

Juliet lay on her back in the middle of the river, trying to ignore the pain in her stomach. It had been a beautiful dive for something that rushed from a motorcycle into a river, and all that kind of junk, but no matter how good it looked, it hurt.

A nasty, sickly feeling.

But being in the river was easier on her, in its own way. All rivers led to the sea, and she was pretty close. Once she'd gotten there, she would be able to do a little marathon swimming up the coast. Or maybe down the cost, until she had gotten away.

It all depended on what the Anthonys decided to do. She could hear them now, jogging along the river walk, and talking back and forth about her jump stunt. It had been rather spectacular.

Finally, the man she had talked to earlier— Justin, she thought— got fed up with the jogging.

"I'm getting in. She's probably paddling around listening to us right now, and we can't see her. We'll do better in the water. At least if we split it that way. Half in, and half out."

Juliet almost bobbed upright. If they got into the water, they'd find her in a few minutes. The knife she was holding slipped from her grasp, sinking, and she gave up listening to what was said next to dive after it. They were an expensive set. She couldn't afford to lose them.

Her hand touched metal, and she grabbed, stabbing herself deep in the palm of her hand. Under the water, she let out a silent scream, biting back unbidden tears. Not now.

She drifted to the surface, sliding the knife back into its sheath in her sleeve, and grasping her hand tightly. She was losing a lot of blood. It was a good knife, sure. But maybe a little too good.

Rapids were coming up. She could hear them. A few moments later, she felt them.

The water swirled wildly around her head, flinging her into rocks, and scraping her along the bottom. It dragged her under, threatening to keep her there forever, and then spat her back out for another gasp of air.

Then she shot forward again, straight for a huge boulder, head first. Out of instinct, she raised her hands over her head, bracing herself as shockwaves rippled through her body. Juliet felt her wrists and fingers give, snapping, and popping out of socket.

Her arms, she couldn't feel. Not much. But she thought the right one was shattered. That, or worse.

Finally, she was out of them, tossing in the rough waves, barely able to keep her head above water, or her eyes open. I think I'm going to black out, she thought. And did, promptly, as the water tossed her up into the shallows along the far bank.

Still, they hadn't found her. Some of the men were getting bored. It had been fun, but only while she was still in sight, and they could see all the tricks she was playing.

Then, they got to the rapids. Liam shook his head. "No one is stupid enough to try and go through those things. She probably got out earlier. On the other side somewhere."

Justin stopped with a nod. "Alright. I'll go alone, just to check for a little ways more, until I get to the beach. If she got farther than that, I don't think we're going to catch her. Then, I'll come back up the other side. You split up, and go back on either side. Look for where she might have come out. If find it, call."

"Right."

The men split into two groups, the more adventurous ones hopping from rock to rock until they reached the other side. Justin waved them on, and then took off at a fast trot for the sea. It was past six now. If they didn't find her before dark, they probably never would.

And so the adventure will continue— next time. Yes, I know I'm horribly cruel to Juliet, but if I wasn't, there'd be no story, because she'd be living in the lap of luxury as she trotted around the globe with her wrestling tour, and all the junk.

I have been through rapids before, and believe me, it hurts. I sprained a wrist, but what's a sprained wrist to Juliet? So, now she has a really bad cut, plenty of smaller cuts, bumps, and bruises, and broken fingers and wrists, and all that junk, and a shattered right arm.

Think of the possibilities. What should happen next? (I know what happens next, if no one cares to tell me, but if you do, I just might change it.)

Anyway, because it took so long, I'm updating with another chapter. Read and review. It'll be up in a while, probably this afternoon.