A Konjiki No Gash Bell (Zatch Bell) fan fiction
I don't own these characters, but I do own this story.
Pairing S/B
Contains crude language, mature situations, physical violence and death
Escape and Evasion
Chapter 1
Sherry parked the motorcycle a good distance from the road, under the low canopy of an old tree. The branches obscured the view for any casual observer, and the dark color of the bike blended in well with the shadows. The road was deserted, they had not seen a vehicle in several hours, but she felt safer concealing their presence.
Still, all things considered this wasn't a bad place to rest up. It was hot, she was tired, the next town was a long drive away and the fast running river close by was too inviting to pass up.
"Why are we stopping here?", her companion asked impatiently. "We should go on further!" he demanded. "Yes, lets go on until I pass out and crash us into a ditch." Sherry agreed, her voice tight.
"And how would that be different from your usual driving?" Brago asked, sarcasm thick in his voice. The remark stung. Although she much preferred being chauffeured in a limo her driving skills were perfectly adequate. "Tell you what, after I rest up you can take over the driving, ok? You can show me how it's done properly." She let her eyes linger on the short mamodo just long enough to make him uncomfortable. "I just hope your little feet can reach the pedals ..." she added. Brago stared at her for a moment, his ruby glare intensifying as his pupils contracted. Then he turned on his heels and stormed off.
"No sense of humor at all", she sighed. I really do have to teach him how to drive, she thought, so I can take a break once in a while. The thought of the demon behind the wheel of any vehicle almost made her laugh. Then again, maybe not, she chuckled.
Brago had energy to burn and rarely needed to rest, but she was exhausted. Their most recent hunt for a mamodo had kept them on the road for nearly three days and she was reaching her limit. In any case he'd put this break to good use, she considered. He was most likely going to catch a fish in the nearby river. Or anything else, she didn't mind as long as it wasn't crocodile. True, the meat was edible but not her idea of a good meal, especially raw. She sincerely hoped that crocodiles weren't native to this area, because Brago would probably go out of his way to present her with one as payback for her insult.
Sherry pulled the black book and a thin towel from the saddlebags of the bike and headed down to the river. She was looking forward to washing off the dirt from the road in the cool water. The vegetation was thick and tall, and she had to step carefully down a fairly steep embankment. It was the height of summer, birds were singing and insects were buzzing in the air which was thick with the scent of white flowers blooming as far as the eye could see. She could hear and smell the water before she actually saw it, a grove of lush trees blocked her view.
Ducking under the branches she found a clear spot of earth, some large rocks and smooth pebbles strewn about. Nobody had been there recently, there was no trash and the moist soil was free of human tracks.
She laid the book and the towel on the closest of the rocks and took one last careful look around. Then she began to pull the tight motorcycle suit off. She preferred to wear a dress, and found the hot and constricting leather suit highly uncomfortable. Always fastidious she carefully folded the garment and put in on the rock, placing her heavy boots beside it. With book in hand she walked to the waters edge, the ground cool and squishy under her bare feet.