The motorcycles, in perfect unison, took a left and zoomed into the fields. We might not know where we were going, but the engines under our butts sure did.
We were moving.
The goal was closer. Almost in sight.
I could feel it.
Nothing was impossible. Nothing. And I believed that with everything I had.
CHAPTER NINE
The ride wasnotpleasurable.I held on for dear life to Shitty Ritchie with one hand and a handlebar with the other. My passenger screamed more profanities than I knew existed. If the probability of decapitation by tree limb wasn’t such a distinct possibility, I would have whacked the tiny dude in the head. The motorcycles travelled at speeds that would get us locked up most places in the civilized world. However, we were not in the civilized world. Not even close.
“Holy fuck buckets,” Candy Vargo snarled as she ducked when her motorbike went under a massive low hanging branch.
If Candy lost her head we were done. She was the only one who could reattach that particular body part.
“Hold on tight, friends,” Tim yelled over the roar of the engines. “We’re almost to wherever we’re going. I can feel Jennifer. We’re close.”
I took the risk of glancing over at Gideon. He was the only one of us that hadn’t sworn or screamed during the entire hour we’d been careening through the Higher Power’s plane. He glanced over at me. His lips were tight and thin, and worry etched every beautiful line on his face.
“I don’t feel her,” he shouted, giving me a pleading look. “Tell me you feel Alana Catherine.”
I didn’t. I didn’t feel her at all. Why couldn’t I feel her? She was my child. Was she dead? No. I refused to entertain that horrible thought. It Tim could feel his daughter, why couldn’t I feel mine? Why couldn’t Gideon? Had Alana Catherine and Jennifer been separated? It was the only option I was willing to entertain. My heart lodged in my throat. Speaking wasn’t going to work. I’d burst into tears if I tried. I shook my head at Gideon.
“No,” I mouthed.
He swore violently, but stayed focused on the terrain ahead.
“Shitty Ritchie,” I said, covering his little body with mine as long blades of dead grass whipped at us. My arms were sliced and bleeding—even through the leather jacket I wore. I barely felt it. I was too worried. “Can you feel Jennifer?”
“Yes! Shitty Ritchie can feel Jennifer.”
“And Alana Catherine?” I asked.
Shitty Ritchie began to cry. “No. Shitty Ritchie does not feel Alana Catherine.”
“Fuck,” I snarled, stepping on the gas pedal and trying to make the motorcycle go faster.
It didn’t work. We were not in charge. The machines underneath us were. If this was the Fonzies’ doing, I would have a few stern words and copious amounts of electrocutions in store the next time we met up with them.
However, at the warp speed we were travelling, I wasn’t sure we’d live to see anyone again.
The beautiful fields that Candy Vargo had imagined for us disappeared. There were no more wild flowers or bunnies or birds. The fields had turned to a dense and decaying forest. Barren branches of enormous trees reached out in anger trying to knock us off the bikes. It felt as if we were tunneling into another time—a dark and evil time. It was a place devoid of joyor life. Not a single bird or anything with a heartbeat would make its home in this desolate wasteland.
The motorcycles came to a halt as abruptly as they’d roared to life. Candy Vargo was thrown over the handlebars of her bike. Tim’s bike landed on top of him. Shitty Ritchie was launched into a tree. I flew forward and landed on top of Candy. Gideon was the only one still seated on his bike.
“What the hell do you weigh?” Candy Vargo grunted, shoving me off of her head.
I didn’t answer. Crawling to my feet, I sprinted to the base of the tree that Shitty Ritchie was hanging from. I wasn’t sure how alive these trees were. They looked dead, but appearances were deceiving. Life was so upside down I wouldn’t be surprised if the trees tried to eat us.
“Jump to me,” I shouted at the tiny dude. “I’ll catch you.”
Shitty Ritchie screamed like a scaredy cat watching a slasher movie, then launched himself out of the tree with so much force, I hit the ground hard when he landed in my arms. Whatever. I needed him safe. He was safe. My butt was another story. Too bad, so sad. A little pain in the ass wouldn’t stop me—so many puns intended.
Tim got to his feet with effort and ushered all of us to him. Placing one finger over his lips to indicate silence, he pointed to a cave about two hundred feet ahead.
“She’s in there,” he whispered.
