The clock on the dash said we'd been driving for three hours. It was hot in the van, and I tried to wiggle out of my sweater and ended up having to ask Charlotte to pull one sleeve off. It was too cramped to move around properly. After three hours of bumpy terrain and Loki singing "The Wheels on the Bus" I was about ready to throw myself under said wheels. Finally I reached forward and wacked his head rest, stopping him mid chorus.
He turned and gave me an outrageously fake puppy dog look, "You hurt me."
"You hurt my ears," I retorted. Loki might be adorable, but he couldn't sing to save his life.
He laughed, "Very well, I shall refrain from joyful singing, you big curmudgeon."
"Great," I folded my arms over my chest and leaned back, peering out the window. We were driving through Grande Prairie now, passing through industrial buildings, parking lots full of campers and trucks. I pressed my forehead against the cool glass, listening to Loki talk to Erik. He was telling him all about Muspellheim, about the great feasts they had and listing off all the food.
Erik laughed, "You're making my stomach rumble."
"I'm hungry," Becca piped up, "are we going to stop for food soon? It's lunch time."
"Probably a good idea," Erik reached into the cup holder beside him and pulled out a small black walky. He pressed the button and spoke into the top speaker, "Hey everyone, there's a fast food place just up ahead. It's lunch time, so follow me into the lot on the right."
I craned my neck, pressing my face against the window, trying to spot the fast food place he was talking about. There was a big neon sign up ahead that spelled out "Wendy's".
"I want a frostie!" Charlotte announced.
Instantly that was all I wanted. A cool chocolate milkshake, "Oh my gosh, yes." I leaned forward and hooked my fingers around Loki's chair, shaking it in my enthusiasm, "chocolate milkshake!"
"Woah," Loki turned around to look at me, which made our lips just inches apart. I drew back, my face glowing. Had anyone seen that? Luckily no one commented. Apparently they were all too excited by the prospect of food.
"I'm going to get a big, juicy burger!" Stacy bounced on the seat, and the rusty springs protested beneath her, "so yum!"
"French fries," Margaret had an almost dreamy expression on her face, "I can't wait."
Erik pulled the van into the Wendy's parking lot, swinging into the nearest parking stall. Thank god we were going inside; I badly needed to stretch my legs. I yanked the sliding door back and we spilled out of the van. I nearly collapsed on the sidewalk as I was pushed out. My legs were so stiff when my feet hit the ground.
We stood in the parking lot for a few minutes, milling around the van as we waited for the long line of cars to pull in. The last one to park was the ice cream truck, which was playing tinny rendition of Mary Had a Little Lamb. We all moved in a pack towards Wendy's, and I couldn't help feeling sorry for the people that were working behind the counter today. We were going to take them by storm.
Sure enough, the employees at the cash registers looked shocked when we trooped in. I glanced back, trying to see what they were seeing. A huge group of extremely tall, extremely blonde people.
We moved into line behind the other customers, who were also darting amazed looks at us. I heard the words, "Norwegian super models" whispered, and tried to keep from laughing. Sure, a group of Norwegian underwear models was coming into Wendy's to load up on carbs. Why not?
The casher in my line, a plump, black haired woman with a squished nose leaned to one side to look down her lineup in dismay. She doubled her speed, ringing in the orders, her fingers a blur, eyes wide in panic. Poor girl.
It took forever, but eventually the line shrunk down, and I found myself at the front,
"Uh, I'll get a cheeseburger and a chocolate milkshake."
"Frostie," she corrected me sharply.
"Er, yeah. Right." Never mind, I didn't feel sorry for her.
Fifteen minutes came and went. Some of us had got our meals and were sitting down at the tables. When we all sat down eventually we would take up over half of the tables. Finally my order came, and I snatched it up with a quick thank you and walked over to where Becca and Margaret were sitting. The others were still standing in line.
We were incredibly noisy. Filling the place with echoing chatter, scraping our chairs across the floor, banging our trays down on the tables. The employees probably hated us. Charlotte finally joined us, followed by Stacy and Erik.
He wedged a chair in beside me and plunked his meal down on the table. A burger wrapped in foil and a large fries. "Oh man, can't wait to dig into this."
I wiggled around in the chair, trying to get comfortable. My butt was so sore from sitting for so long, and now these stupid hard chairs were killing me. I should have brought my sweater to sit on.
"I'll be right back," I stood up, pushing the offending chair out, "I'm going to grab my sweater from the van. Is it locked?"
"Nope," Erik grinned, "don't think anyone is going to steal that junker."
"Okay, I'll be right back," I passed by the counter, noticing that the lines were dwindling, we were almost all served by now. The poor cashiers looked like they were ready to collapse in fits of exhaustion. Pushing through the door out into the parking lot, I noticed that it was just starting to drizzle. The rain actually felt good on my cheeks as I walked to the van, cool and refreshing. My mind was wandering, thinking about how close my face had been to Loki's, thinking about what it would have felt like had I leaned forward and closed the inches. Maybe that's why I wasn't paying attention when the dark SUV pulled up beside the van. I had my body half way inside, and my fingers had just curled around the fabric of my sweater, when I felt a vice like grip around my middle. I screamed as something yanked me backwards. A meaty hand clamped down hard over my mouth, crushing my lips into my teeth, filling my eyes with tears instantly. Panic coursed through me, adrenaline making me struggle before my brain had even fully comprehended what was going on. I lashed out with my arms and legs, but whoever had me was strong. They grunted beside my ear when my elbow connected with something hard. I could feel myself being dragged backwards, and out of the corner of my eye I could see the black SUV and the open door that was waiting for me. A red flag popped up in my head, a little voice of warning.
If I let myself get thrown in there, I won't be getting back out.
I redoubled my efforts to escape, but it was useless, and I felt myself being swung around towards the SUV. My attacker tried to push me inside, and I braced one foot on the doorframe, still trying to scream past his hand.
Finally my brain caught up, and I realized I had to stop physically struggling and use my other capabilities. I stopped flailing and grasped at my captor, trying to find bare flesh to lock my fingers around. Finally my hand closed over something, an arm I think, and my flood gates, my mental damn burst open. Ice crackled beneath my fingertips. The slick, slippery feeling beneath my hands filled me with relief. My attacker jumped back, swearing, and I spun around, crouched in a fighting stance.
He was a big, swarthy man with a bulbous nose, dressed in a black sweater and tan cargo pants. I didn't recognize him at all. He leaned forward and shouted into the SUV, "Forget this! You didn't tell me there would be freaky supernatural shit. I'm outta here."
I stared after him, open mouthed, as he took off at a run. Before I could move the passenger side of the SUV burst open. A woman came barreling around the side of the vehicle, her heels clicking on the pavement. She was slightly shorter than me, in tight fitting jeans and an orange sports tank top. Her yellow-blonde hair looked as though it had been permed recently, and the curls were sagging slightly as the rain hit them. We both stood there staring at one another, surrounded by the soft patter of rain on the pavement. Finally I found my voice, which came out high and strained, "Janet?"
Janet, my foster mother. How had she found me? Why was she looking for me? And why had she hired a thug to kidnap me? I couldn't seem to get any of these questions out, I just stood there in the rain staring at her in shock.
She had enough words for the both of us though. Janet strode forward and seized my wrist, "You're coming with me." Her eyes were shining.
"What are you talking about?" I tried to yank my hand back, but she held on like a pit-bull with a grudge.
"Don't give me that," she spat at me, "Don't think I don't know your little secret. You're a genetic freak. A mutation. That Eira woman contacted me, told me you were a government experiment. Now the American government and the Russians are fighting over you. Well, you've caused me enough trouble, so now I'm getting paid for all my years of money and all the problems you've caused. If I sell you back to the Americans I should have more than enough compensation."
My mouth had been hanging open during her ridiculous explanation, "You really bought that? Wow, you're more of an idiot than I thought you were."
Janet's hand flashed out and cracked me across the cheek, "get in the car," she growled, "now, Megan. Do as you're told."
I ignored the stinging sensation on my skin. I'd been slapped harder. "How did you find me?"
She smirked, "I hired Jack to track you down, it took him forever to find you, he kept going on about you vanishing, but than he found you alright," she frowned in the direction the man had run off, "though that idiot isn't going to get paid now. I don't know what you did to my last detective, but he didn't get paid either." She tugged hard on my arm, "now come on, stop stalling."
I raised my brows at her, "You honestly think I'm going to come with you?"
Janet looked furious, "I'm your foster mother, you have to do what I say. You're not too old for corporal punishment, you know. Get in the car."
My voice was flat, "No. Let go of me."
She was practically spitting nails, "Get in the car! Now! If you don't I'll call that Eira woman and have her pick you up right here..."
I'd had enough. And if she called Eira we were in trouble. I took a deep breath, drew back my left hand and punched her square in the face.
My knuckles hurt instantly. Janet reeled backwards, releasing my other hand. She was clutching her nose, and red liquid was leaking between her fingers. A strangled sounding high pitched squeal was coming from beneath her hands.
"Get in the car and drive away," I stooped down to pick up my sweater, which I'd dropped when the thug had grabbed me. Just before I entered the fast food joint I turned and said, "And be nicer to Dave!"