Untraceable

Survival Skill #16

When facing a desperate situation, don’t panic. Stay calm to avoid fatal mistakes.

~

I punch down on the pedal with the toe of my shoe and lurch forward.

The truck speeds up and inches closer, like a wild dog nipping at my heels. I climb to a hundred miles per hour, knowing this speed is dangerous but hoping my knowledge of these winding roads will help me lose the truck. Squinting in the bright sun, I glance back again. The vehicle is so close I can practically count the bugs splattered on the grill.

The vehicle swerves into the opposite lane and moves next to me. A semi whizzes around the mountain bend and forces the truck back in line behind me. I focus on the swerving road and accelerate, adding more distance between us.

My hands tremble, making it hard to keep the handlebars steady. The dry air blows through my mouth and nose. One move can send me to my death. Cars whiz toward me, forcing the truck to stay in our lane. The engine seems to growl and nip at my bike’s heels. One time, I react quickly and jerk the handlebars. Luci panics and fishtails, but I manage to steady her without crashing.

As soon as the opposite lane clears, the pick-up truck changes lanes, almost clipping my back tire, and speeds up next to me.

My breath rushes out in rapid, shallow bursts. My knuckles are white from grasping the handlebars so hard. I can’t tell which is worse, crashing at this speed or seeing Al’s face again.

The rumbling beast hovers only a few inches away. So close, I can hear the music’s bass pounding from inside the cab.

For fear of losing control, I avoid looking and zero in on the pavement rolling under me.

Then the horn blares and someone yells out the window. “Hey, Graceless. Get that piece of shit off the road!” A thunder of laughter follows. When the truck speeds by me, a zit-faced kid from my class shoots me the bird.

I scream from underneath the helmet, “Asshole!” Tears flood my eyes so I slam on the brakes. Luci fishtails again and skids along the shoulder of the road.

Once we stop, I clamber off my bike and bend over the guardrail. My stomach burns, and my muscles clench. A burp sends a swirl of acid up my throat. I take deep breaths, willing my gut to relax. Even though I know I’m safe, my body still reacts as if I’m not. Clenching and shaking.

When I’m finally stable enough to drive, I mount Luci and sit for a second. Glancing down, I spot the faded picture of Dad and me duct-taped to Luci’s black and red gas tank. I exhale slowly, wishing more than anything he was here right now to hold me. Tell me everything’s going to be okay. Eventually, I roll out onto the highway and putter home going twenty-five an hour, my slowest speed in history.

As soon as Luci rolls to a stop in my driveway, I race up the porch steps and bolt inside, locking the doors behind me. I flip off all the lights and draw the curtains before crawling to the top of the stairs.

There, I sit. In the dark. Alone.

My body quivers like one of my grandma’s little Chihuahuas. I pull out my ponytail elastic and rake my fingers through my hair before twisting it up into a tight bun. My fear shifts into anger. Stupid boys. Maybe I’ll get Wyn to kick that kid’s skinny ass for me. Serves him right for almost mowing me down.

Then again, maybe I’ll just do it myself.

Thank God it wasn’t Al. His sneering face flashes across my mind, causing me to rub my neck. Can’t help but still feel that knife pressing against my throat, a centimeter from slicing my jugular. The blade burning my skin. Most of all, I can’t stop thinking about how his eyes bore into mine. How cold they were. How empty. I bury my head in my knees, trying to block out his face. Tommy’s right, I need serious help.