Disclaimer: See Chapter One

Five

"How much farther?" Erica asked when they stopped to rest again.

She had been very brave, struggling to keep up with his longer stride, but Charlie knew she was getting very tired, as indicated by the slight whine to her voice. The sun had slipped over the western horizon, leaving only a faint yellow glow in its wake. Behind it, the long blanket of darkness stretched across the landscape, chasing away the last remnants of daylight. Soon, it would be dark. Spending the night in the desert with an escaped convict on the loose was more of an adventure than he had bargained for.

"I'm not sure," he said in response to her question.

"Are you sure we're going the right way?" she asked.

"That I'm sure of."

She watched him curiously as he observed the sky, her face smudged and tired. She did not understand his explanations about how he was plotting their route through the desert, but he seemed confident that they were going the right direction, and his confidence made her feel more secure. "I'm awful tired," she said, her voice small.

"So am I," he replied, distractedly, his eyes studying the heavens. Twilight was a difficult time of day for navigating. The sun was gone, and the stars were not yet out. He had hoped to be at the Oasis by now, but the uneven terrain and exhaustion were slowing down their progress.

As he had done many times, Charlie glanced behind him to make certain they were not being followed, scanning the desert for signs of danger lurking nearby. In the dusky shadows of the uneven terrain, there were many bushes, rocks, and other natural geographic features, but this time he was startled by something that moved slightly. Gazing at it intently, he saw that it was an upright figure, and as he watched, it reached up with an arm to scratch its head as it, too, examined the topography in search of something.

Reacting quickly, Charlie wrapped one arm Erica's waist and placed his other hand over her mouth to keep her from crying out as he took her to the ground with him, trying to ignore the stab of pain that jarred his sore shoulder. Sure enough, he felt the exhale of air against the palm of his hand and the muffled sound of her scream as they landed on the hard ground. Her eyes were wide with alarm as she stared up at him.

"Shh," he said, quickly, his urgent expression telling her more than words ever could. He removed his hand. "Sorry I was so rough," he apologized in a whisper. "There wasn't time to explain, and I was afraid you might scream when I pulled you down. There's someone out there."

Realizing that he was not assaulting her, her body began to relax and she nodded her understanding. "Is it him?" she whispered.

Cautiously, Charlie rose up on his elbows, peering over the uneven terrain. In the distance and the fading light, it was difficult to see the face of the man who stood there, but his bulk left no doubt in Charlie's mind that it was Jessup. He was turned slightly away from the mathematician, his hands on his hips as he scanned the desert with his eyes, searching for indication that his prey was nearby. Charlie shrank back down, his heartbeat quickening. Jessup had obviously been serious in his threat to hunt him down and kill him.

"Yeah, it's him."

Erica's breathing accelerated to panic pitch, and her eyes were wide with terror. "How did he find us?" she whispered.

"He hasn't found us, yet. Don't move and don't make a sound," the mathematician told her.

Carefully, he rose up again and watched as the convict reached up to scratch his dirty salt and pepper hair again. Charlie could only wonder what kind of parasites his fingers were chasing around his scalp; probably lice, he decided. Jessup scanned the desert in all directions, turning a slow circle, but in the dusk he failed to notice the young man who watched from the slight dip in the desert terrain. After a moment of indecision, he began walking again, moving away from them.

"All right, he's going away. Keep low."

Together, they got up off the ground and, stooping forward in an attempt to make themselves less conspicuous, they began moving once again in the direction of the rest stop.

Darkness quickly overtook them, and the stars came out, winking and twinkling overhead. Guided by the constellations, Charlie continued to navigate their path toward the rest stop. Larry, in his infinite interest in space, would have done a better job of it, Charlie knew, but he was familiar enough with it that he was confident of their direction.

Forty minutes later, to his great relief, they came up over a low rise of ground and saw the dark shapes of the abandoned buildings below them.

His heart lifted at the sight of them and his first instinct was to move quickly toward them, to get out of the open where Jessup might stumble upon them, but a sense of caution was holding him back. His status as an FBI consultant had taught him that prudence must be applied to certain circumstances, and this was one of them. He had no idea where Doyle Jessup was at that moment, and that warranted an attentive look around. He came to a stop at the top of the rise.

"There it is!" Erica exclaimed, suitably impressed with her rescuer's capabilities. "You were right!" She immediately started down the slope toward them, but Charlie's hand shot out and grabbed her shoulder to stop her. She turned to look questioningly into his face.

"It might not be safe," he explained.

He squatted down to make himself less conspicuous against the skyline, and tugged on her arm, encouraging her to do the same. When she complied, he turned his attention to the group of buildings, studying them intently. Darkness had thrown its cloak over the desert, but the moon was up, casting a silvery glow that permitted him just enough visibility to see the structures with moderate clarity. Although he had no idea what signs he should be looking for, he began studying the buildings.

First, he examined the restaurant, the farthest building from his position, squinting into the shadows beneath the awning where he had rested earlier that day, but saw nothing out of the ordinary. Sliding his gaze across the empty parking lot to the nearer building, he focused on the service station. Like the restaurant, it was quiet with no sign of movement, but as his eyes moved toward the antique pumps, something attracted his rapt attention; something that he knew with absolute certainty had not been there when he had stopped for lunch.

Erica heard his sudden intake of air. "What's wrong?"

"There's a car down there beside the gas pumps, under the awning."

Although he could not see her features in the darkness, he could sense the hope that must have brightened her face. Eagerly, she looked at the vehicle, and could just make out the front bumper and headlights that stuck out from the edge of the building. "Maybe it's someone looking for us!"

"It's someone looking for us, all right, but I have a bad feeling it isn't someone we want to find us," he replied, grimly. "I had assumed that Jessup had followed us on foot, but that isn't what happened. He knew we were moving toward this rest stop, so he drove here, parked the car, and went out looking for us. Undoubtedly, he thought he would intercept us before we got here. Does that look like his car?"

She squinted through the darkness, but all she could make out was the dark shape. "It's too dark. I can't tell. Maybe."

Nervously, his knee bounced up and down as he pondered their options. He rubbed his open hand across his mouth, then dragged his fingers through his hair as he tried to decide what to do. He was not an FBI agent; he was not trained how to react to situations like this one, but he knew they could not just walk down their blindly and risk encountering the prison escapee. Jessup might have returned by now and could be lying in wait for them. Or, he might still be out in the desert looking for them. Yet another possibility, however remote the chances were, the car could belong to someone looking for the girl.

"Tell me a little bit about the car he was driving. What does it look like?"

"Well, it's kind of reddish purple."

"Two door, or four door?"

She thought for a moment. "Two, I think. I was so scared . . . "

"I know." Standing up again, he took her hand, and led her back down the bluff the way they had come. Finding a sizeable creosote bush, he said, "I want you to hide under this bush and stay here until I come back for you, okay?"

"What are you going to do?" she asked in a panicky voice, terrified of the prospect of being left alone in the desert. "You're not going to leave me!"

"I'm not going to leave you. I'm just going to go down and have a look at that car, and it'll be better if you stay here. I'm hoping maybe he left the keys in it. If he did, it'll be our ride out of here. And if it isn't the reddish purple car you described, then I'll know it's someone else, someone who might help us."

"Be careful!" she pleased.

"I'll be careful," he promised. Gently, he pinched her chin between his thumb and forefinger, drawing a smile from her. "Now, you hide under this bush."

Obediently, she crawled beneath the bush, and lay very still.

"This may take a while, so I want you to stay here, okay? Don't make a sound. When it's safe, I'll come back and get you."

"Okay."

Leaving her there, he climbed the bluff again and squatted down to observe the rest stop once more. It was as still and quiet as it had been before, with no sign of movement. Turning his head, he scanned the desert with his eyes, taking note of every bush, every rock, searching for the figure of a man who would do him great harm.

Satisfied that it was safe to do so, Charlie slowly and carefully picked his way down the gentle slope and walked toward the service station, keeping a wary eye on the desert all around him.

When he reached the stone wall of the station, he crept along the side of the building until he reached the front. Pausing there, he peered around the corner at the vehicle that waited beneath the canopy. It was parked in the space between the boarded up door and the nearest bank of pumps. It was very dark in the shadows beneath the awning, but he was almost certain that it was a burgundy two door sedan, just as the girl had described. Inching forward, he looked cautiously down the concrete drive. Jessup was nowhere in sight. All he had to do was cross several yards of open space to reach the vehicle.

A panicky feeling was gripping his heart tightly, and he pressed against the wall, trying to fight it. I'm not cut out for this cloak and dagger stuff, he thought as his chest rose and fell rapidly with his labored breathing. The car was so near, now. All he had to do was take five or six steps and he would be beside it.

Okay, I can do this. Closing his eyes again, he concentrated on steadying his breathing, forcing himself to calm down. When his eyes opened again, he felt only marginally better. There is no one else to do this, he reminded himself. You are on your own!

Charlie cast another wary perusal in the direction in which he had seen the convict nearly an hour earlier, then mustered the courage to push himself away from the wall and approach the vehicle.

Directly above his head, something asked, "Wh-who?"

Charlie nearly leaped into orbit. Spinning around quickly, he looked up and saw an owl perched on the edge of the awning, watching him with its large round eyes. It was a big, beautiful bird, and it blinked and hooted again.

He gave a shaky laugh at his own jumpiness, and his hand was placed over his heart to steady it.

The owl moved its head from side to side, observing the human with curiosity, then it ruffled its feathers and turned its attention elsewhere.

Calming himself once again, Charlie crossed the remaining distance to the vehicle. Pressing his nose against the passenger side window, he squinted through the darkness inside the car, but it was impossible to determine if the keys were in the ignition. His hand grasped the door handle, but lingered there for a moment, realizing that if he opened it, the overhead light would come on, and if Jessup was near enough, he might see it.

Concealed in the shadows beneath the awning, he glanced toward the open desert again, and finally made the decision. Gripping the door handle, he pulled on it.

Locked.

He exhaled sharply as he shifted his gaze to the driver's door, trying to determine if the lock button was up or down, but in the dark, he was unable to see it. Quickly, he walked behind the car and approached the driver's side door, but just as he reached for the door handle, he glanced toward the desert again and saw a dark shape walking along the road toward the station.

Charlie instantly crouched down beside the vehicle, hoping the darkness beneath the awning was enough to conceal him from the criminal. His pulse accelerated again as he watched the solitary figure walking toward him.

He figured he had two choices: Open the car door on the chance that the keys were in the ignition, or back away. The odds were fifty-fifty that the keys were there; either they were or they were not. If they were there, he could start the car and drive away before Jessup was close enough to do anything about it. If they were not there, the overhead light would betray his presence. Indecisively, his hand crept toward the door handle.

Fifty-fifty.

Charlie's gaze went from the door handle to the desert again. Jessup was getting nearer, and in the moonlight he could see the man's head turning from side to side, still scanning the dark landscape. Jessup was near enough that he would not only see the overhead light, he would probably hear the car door open as well.

Fifty-fifty.

While he delayed, Jessup was continuing to advance. He was getting close; dangerously close; close enough that Charlie could see the club that he still carried in one hand. Make a decision! he thought to himself.

Finally, he pulled his hand away from the door handle and, remaining in a crouched position, he skirted the rear of the car and squatted down behind the trunk, wondering if he would be seen if he darted for the safety of the wall. Rising up, he looked over the trunk to check Jessup's progress, and found that he was alarmingly close now.

Nervous sweat popped out on his brow and dampened his palms as he turned his head to look at the corner of the wall farthest from the criminal. If he made a dash for that corner, would Jessup see the movement? Facing the convict again, he silently willed the man to turn around, thus providing him with a few moments of relative safety to run for the corner.

After a long tense moment, during which Jessup was getting closer and closer, the owl hooted again, and Charlie felt a tremendous amount of satisfaction when he saw the convict's body jump on startled reflex. He staggered several paces backward, nearly falling to the ground as he looked up quickly to see what had made the noise. Spying the owl there, he raised the club in a threatening gesture. "Get outta here!" he said, gruffly.

The owl apparently decided to seek a more accommodating perch elsewhere. It took flight, passing so close to Jessup that the convict actually ducked to avoid the beating wings, then he turned to watch it as it disappeared into the night.

Using the moment to his advantage, Charlie shoved himself away from the car and dodged around the corner of the building.

With his heart hammering wildly again, he peered around the edge of the stone wall. Still looking around, Jessup slid his hand into the front pocket of his grimy trousers and withdrew the keys to the car. They had not been in the ignition, and Charlie felt an inner trembling with the realization of what would have happened had he opened the car door. Jessup would probably be chasing him across the parking lot at that very moment.

Unaware that his prey was only a few yards away, Jessup opened the car door and slid into the driver's seat. Inserting the key in the ignition, he turned it and the engine cranked over with a roar and a puff of smoke from the exhaust pipe. Charlie saw the brake lights come on, and shrank back behind the corner as Jessup applied a little pressure on the foot-feed and revved the engine. Then he shifted into drive, but instead of pulling out onto the highway, Charlie heard the car move around the other side of the building.

The math prodigy remained pressed against the wall, listening intently as the car eased slowly around the building, and finally came to a stop behind the rear wall. He understood instantly that Jessup was concealing the vehicle from any passing traffic that might come down the highway during the night, and that he probably intended to sleep inside it.

Charlie sighed, wearily. This was bad news, for it meant that Jessup intended to remain in the area, and that he might even resume the search for them in the morning. It also meant that Don or Larry or anyone who might come searching for him was in potential danger as well.

Well, there was nothing he could do about that tonight. At the moment, he needed to find a safe place for him and Erica to spend the night, and bedding down in the open desert was not appealing.

He glanced over his shoulder at the restaurant building. With a little luck, perhaps he could pry up one of the plywood panels enough that he and the girl could get inside the building. Slowly, he approached the rear corner of the service station. With one eye, he peered around the edge of the building and watched as Jessup climbed over the seat backs into the rear seat and disappeared from view as he lay down.

Charlie waited and watched for several minutes, but the convict did not reappear. Obviously, he intended to sleep in the back seat, which offered considerably more comfort than the math prodigy and the young girl would enjoy that night.

Deeming it safe to move, Charlie pushed away from the corner of the building, and, stepping quietly in his sneakers, he jogged across the parking lot toward the restaurant. When he reached the awning, he pressed against the building and looked back toward the service station. From his position, he could just see the front end of the car from where it sat against the rear of the building, but there was no sign of Jessup.

Turning his attention to the plywood panels that were nailed over the glass windows and doors, Charlie crept along the front of the restaurant, testing for weaknesses in the nails or in the wood itself, working his way along the street-facing wall, then moved around the corner. As with the front of the building, the plywood on the side wall seemed secure until he reached a side entrance near the back corner. Here, one side of the plywood had been released from the nails and bent back easily when he pulled on it. Behind it was the door, which should have been locked against intruders, but curiously the knob felt loose when he placed his hand on it. Obviously, someone had pried the door open at some point over the past few years. This was not too unexpected. Vagrants and transients often found a way inside abandoned buildings, and this one was no different. He just hoped there was no one inside who might resent his presence!

As with most exits, the door opened outward, and he pulled it as far open as it would go. It strained against the plywood panel that had been pulled loose but he was careful not to force it too far, for he did not want to pull the plywood completely off. Opening it just enough for his slender body to slip through, Charlie squeezed into the restaurant.

It was nearly pitch black inside, and he paused just inside the door to allow his eyes to become adjusted to the darker interior. He sensed, rather than saw, that he was standing in an entryway, but as his vision gradually became acclimated to the darkness, he began to see the slight definition of the lighter colored walls against the blackness of the opening that was just ahead of him. No doubt, this was the service entrance, where incoming supplies were received.

Placing his hand on the wall, he felt his way along it until he reached what he presumed to be the kitchen. It was open and empty, indicating that the ovens and grills and even the sinks were long gone, but he caught a brief glint of metal from the hookups as he felt his way along the wall. The texture of the wall changed beneath his hands, from plaster to wood, and he knew he had found a closed door. As he reached for a knob, he felt the door give slightly, and realized that it was a swinging door which separated the kitchen from the main restaurant area. He pushed through it.

Visibility was slightly better inside what had once been the dining areas. Thin slivers of moonlight managed to seep through the cracks between the plywood panels, revealing the large open space that had been cleared of the tables, chairs, and booths that had once accommodated hungry travelers. The only furnishing that remained in the room was a long service counter, a permanent fixture which had probably been constructed on-site and ran parallel to the wall, but the stools that had accompanied it had been removed. The far end of the counter had probably held the cash register. During its operational years, he knew that it probably had also displayed packs of cigarettes, candy, and chewing gum. Through the tiled entrance area was another doorway leading into a darkened room, and he presumed that it had probably served as the gift shop.

Charlie turned back to the counter, silently examining it. A space of about seven or eight feet separated it from the wall behind it, and he decided it would be a perfect place for him and Erica to spend the night.

He retraced his steps back to the side entrance, and squeezed through it again. Once outside, he paused briefly to examine the plywood panel, assuring himself that it was still in place, then he crossed the front of the building again and returned to the corner, where he stopped. The service station, Jessup, and the car sat between him and Erica, who waited for him just over the shallow bluff.

Keeping a wary eye on the car, he jogged quietly across the parking area again, and safely reached the front of the service station. Concealed beneath the shadows of the awning, he moved quickly to the other side, noticing as he did that there was no sign of a pay phone anywhere along the front of the building. When he reached the other corner, he peered cautiously around it. He could see neither Jessup not the vehicle from this angle, so he crept along the side wall until he reached the corner nearest the car.

Leaning his head around the corner, he focused an intense gaze on the rear of the vehicle, hoping that Jessup was still lying in the back seat. The windows were down, apparently to let in the breeze in an attempt to cool the interior of the car, and through the open windows he could hear Jessup snoring loudly.

Charlie breathed a sigh of relief; he was safe for the moment.

Pushing away from the building, he jogged up the bluff and over the crest, returning to the place where he had left the girl.

"Erica?" he asked, quietly.

"Charlie?" She crawled from beneath the bush and moved toward him. "You were gone an awful long time," she said.

He heard the tears in her voice. "There, I told you I would come back, didn't I?" he asked, gently.

"Yes, but it was scary out here all by myself. I was afraid that man might've found you."

"No. He's snoring like a buzz-saw in the back of his car. He's pulled it behind the service station, and apparently plans to sleep there all night."

"What about us? Where are we going to sleep?"

"Well, we can't go stumbling around the desert in the dark looking for shelter, so I think the best thing for us to do is to spend the night inside the restaurant. I found a way in, and we should be safe there. We're going to have to be very, very quiet. No talking, okay?"

"Okay."

Taking her hand, Charlie led the way back down the bluff toward the front of the building, keeping it between them and the car to minimize their chances of being seen. Then they hurried across the parking lot, and he escorted her around the building to the service entrance.

TBC