The Things We Bury - Part 1: In Anticipation of the End of the World [Completed]

Chapter 13: The Long Way Home (Parts 2 & 3 of 8)

The car seat smelt of sun-baked plastic and farts. The pain of the Taser had finally faded to the point where it disappeared if Emily focused on something else, say the splitting pain in her head or the festering cuts on her face and hands. A large blood-soaked ACE bandage glued one side of her face into immobility and ragged cotton strips covered her palms.

They had been driving for at least an hour since switching cars and abandoning the paramilitary van in a Popeye's parking lot. The only thing she had to mark time and distance was the constant passing of lights on the side of the highway. Their jaundiced glow strobed across the seat, as she lay there motionless.

She didn't sit up. She wouldn't make that mistake again. The memory of the Taser hadn't faded that much. Still, she felt like she giving these bastards too easy of a time.  Her sickening passivity ate at her until she couldn't keep quiet any longer.

"Where are you taking me?" she demanded.

Silence. She could only see the back of the men's buzz cuts as they stared straight ahead ignoring her.

"What do you want with me? I'm not important?"

"Shut up, back there," the driver yelled without glancing over at her.

"If you want money, my boyfriend can get it for you. He can get you a lot. You just have to call him and let him know you have me." Please call Max, her mind urged them. He'd deal with these fuckers.

"Nice try." The passenger turned to her. His face was caught in silhouette by the windshield. His nose was bulbous and his eyebrows were thick and stuck out wildly. "We know all about you and your boyfriend, who he is and what he's capable of. We're not stupid."

"But why me? I'm nobody."

"Not to our employer. Trust me, there is someone out there willing to spend a lot of money for you." She could only make out an impression of a smile as his cheeks creased and his mouth opened, but the smugness wafted off of him like the stink of sour sweat.

"Your employer?" If she could get some more information perhaps she could come up with some kind of plan. "So the raid on Aira was just to get me? What does Torrealba want?"

"Wrong and wrong." The commando seemed to be overjoyed to have inside information. "Never heard of that dude. And the people who ordered us to take out the lab's security couldn't care less about you. We just happened to pick up a very lucrative side contract."

"Will you both shut up," the driver screamed. "I can understand her, but what the hell are you doing? Christ! Keep your stupid mouth closed. You shouldn't be telling anyone our plans, least of all her. She's the fucking package."

"Relax. We're almost there. Another two exits. Soon she'll be someone else's problem. We'll have our money and be long gone. What does it matter?"

"I don't give a shit. One more word and I'll pull over and put you both in the trunk." It sounded like the type of idiotic threat a father in some movie would make to misbehaving children. But Emily wasn't willing to test him.

And apparently neither did the passenger. He folded his arms and turned back toward the road in a pout. They continued on in silence for a while. Laying there contemplating whatever new horrors awaited her, time followed no clock—it stretched and skipped with her anxious thoughts. Who would want her if not Benicio? An old mark? Someone with a grudge to settle?

They made a hard turn onto gravel and rolled to a stop.

The men got out of the car and Emily could hear footsteps approaching. She stretched up to get a look but not high enough to be obvious.