Chapter Seven
Where Robbers Go After Hitting Up the Bank
(The First Flight across the Border)
Chris pulled a map out of his pocket, and spread it over the truck's hood. Cat pulled out the band itinerary from her purse. They had stocked up on food at the mall, mostly candy bars and chocolate, along with specific directions on how to get to the airport.
"Okay." Chris said, running his finger along the map. "We're gonna take the highway north, for at least another hour until we reach exit forty seven."
"The plane leaves at nine forty five." Cat read off the schedule. "That's if there are still seats available."
"We're not gonna make it in time." Rachel said.
"We just have to hurry up." Chris said. He rolled up the map. "Help me with the supplies. We'll make it if we leave now." Cat headed back to the bench and returned with a couple of plastic bags filled with junk food. Rachel pulled the seat forward, and Chris carefully placed the groceries in the back. When he saw Rachel's uniform curled up in a corner along with her piccolo, he couldn't help but smile.
"You brought it this morning, didn't you?" he said. He hopped into the driver's seat.
"I don't give up until the very end," she said. "You comfortable on the highway?"
"I have my license." He started the engine. "We don't have to worry about being pulled over."
"We won't make it in time if we get pulled over." Cat said. Chris pulled the car away from the mall's entrance. "So no speeding. Don't do anything crazy."
"If we don't speed we'll miss the plane," he said. He let out daring laugh. "As for crazy, I think it's too late for that."
They pulled out of the Oak's mall and took the first ramp onto the highway. They all sat in the front of the truck, with Cat in the middle. It was a tight fit, but the back seat was filled with food and Rachel's uniform.
"Where's all your stuff?" Rachel asked.
"We left our uniforms and bags on the bus." Cat said. "They'll be waiting when we get there."
"I can't believe you guys went through with this. I can't believe you left the bus."
"Me neither." Chris said. Cat nodded in agreement. She turned the radio up and rummaged through Rachel's disks, until she finally found what suited her. She turned it up to full and began singing. Rachel joined in. The stereo completely drowned out their voices, even though they were nearly shouting. Chris didn't recognize the song, but the sisters seemed to know every word. Glancing at them now, he realized how similar they really were. "We're gonna make it," he said. "It's gonna be all right."
Before he could finish the thought, a grating noise erupted from the rear. Chris pulled the truck over and they got out to inspect the damage. The tire had completely worn away. Rachel pulled the truck bed out and rolled out the spare. None of them had ever put on a spare tire before and they were puzzled and a little anxious. It took them a lot longer than expected to get started again. Only after several attempts did Chris manage to get the tire to stay in place. The girls sat on the bed, laughing at him the entire time. Only after he threatened to give them push-ups did they both offer to help. He held the tire as Cat and Rachel took turns tightening the bolts. The entire incident cost them over half an hour, but they were finally back on the road. They still had a long while to go, and the delay had killed any hope of them arriving on time. All they could hope for now was that the plane was somehow delayed.
After over an hour of driving, Chris finally reached the exit and they entered into the airport. All three of them felt their stomach sink as they followed the signs into the parking complex. Before Chris had time to stop completely, Rachel was already jumping out of the truck.
"What time is it?" She asked.
"Nine fifty." Cat said.
"We're five minutes late." Chris said. "We gotta run -"
The girls were already half way across the parking lot. Chris sprinted to join them. They raced to the desk, dodging various travelers as they went. Cat bumped into an unsuspecting couple, muttered a hurried apology and never looked back. When they reached the information desk, they begged the clerk to tell them at what gate the flight to Arizona was departing. They yelled a thank you over their shoulder as they ran to gate twenty-seven.
They arrived breathless and when they saw the plane, the little air left inside wasknocked out of them. It was drifting away. The bridge was slowly recoiling, as the gate doors slammed shut. Before they could even recover, the plane was rolling down the runway, and then in the air, sliding away beyond the airport's large windowpanes. They all stood limp and tired, three criminals reaching beyond glass, as the clouds enveloped the last visible dot of light, blinking in the fog.