Naymeer grabbed his own phone and barked, “Bring a car round front. Open the gates. Now.”
The guy was barely holding it together. Like I said before, he was somebody who was used to being in control. And just then, he wasn’t.
“Take the weapon,” I said to Alder.
We each grabbed the Tasers from the red shirts. I really wanted to zap the guy who had zapped me. Instead, I stepped over him and walked up to Naymeer. I looked the guy up and down. “You have to know,” I said cockily, “this isn’t over.”
Naymeer took a breath. He was already getting himself back under control. The guy was good. I could see why so many followed him.
“Perhaps not,” he admitted. “But soon.”
Something was off. Maybe it was the confident way he spoke, or the evil he represented. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but a red flag was raised. I turned to Courtney with a questioning look. She knew exactly what I was thinking.
“No,” she answered. “He’s not Saint Dane.”
I looked back to Naymeer. He was smiling. “I’m flattered.”
“Don’t be,” I shot back.
“We’d better go,” Mark cautioned. “It wouldn’t be good for us to be found here.”
I turned and strode for the door. Alder, Courtney, and Mark followed. Before leaving, I turned back to Naymeer and said, “By the way, Al, I unquit.”
“It’s too late for that,” Naymeer sneered.
“Keep telling yourself that” was my answer.
I strode out the door, followed by the others. In the foyer of the mansion, Naymeer’s red shirts surrounded us. One made a move, but Alder held the Taser out and the guy backed off.
“Let them go,” Naymeer commanded. He was standing in the doorway to his office.
The guards backed off and we went out the door. I didn’t even stop to think about how odd it was that the deserted, empty Sherwood house was no longer deserted. There would be time to catch up later. We had to be gone. The large, wrought-iron gates in front of the mansion swung open to reveal a dark car waiting in front, its engine running.
“Pendragon!” Naymeer called.
I looked back.
“Welcome home.”
I really didn’t like him. Just as well. It would make taking him that much easier.
“I’ll drive,” Courtney announced and got in the driver’s seat.
I opened the rear passenger door and motioned for Alder to get inside. He had never been in a car before. He had no idea what was going on. I climbed in back with him; Mark jumped in the shotgun seat. Courtney sat with her hands on the wheel.
“The police will be here any second,” I said.
“They would be,” Mark answered, “if I had actually made the call.”
He looked at me and smiled. “We’ve got a lot to catch up on.”
It had been a bluff. This definitely wasn’t the same old Mark. I liked this guy even more.
Mark asked Courtney, “When did you learn how to drive?”
“Long time ago,” she answered casually, putting the car in gear.
“How long?”
“About three seconds.”
She hit the gas and the car lurched forward. With a squeal of tires on asphalt, we were off. Before we cleared the opening of the stone wall in front of the place, I took a quick look back to see two of Naymeer’s guards running toward a pair of motorcycles.
I hoped that Courtney had learned a lot about driving in those three seconds.
JOURNAL #36
(CONTINUED)
SECONDEARTH
Look out!” Mark yelled.
“You think?” Courtney said calmly as she spun the wheel, barely missing a dog that had foolishly gone for a stroll around the time that a crazy girl with three seconds of driving experience was gunning the gas behind the wheel of a huge car while making a desperate escape. The dog yelped and jumped off the road. Safe but scared.
Alder pushed himself back into his seat. He had never been in a car before, let alone one driven by someone whose only experience was in driver’s ed class. At least, I hoped Courtney had taken driver’s ed. The way we were lurching from side to side, I wasn’t so sure. Poor Alder. He was thrown into a terrifying situation in an alien world. Poor all of us.
“That would be a stop sign,” Mark said, trying to be calm as we flew past one without stopping.
“I saw it,” Courtney snapped.
None of us asked the obvious question as to why she didn’t actually do what the sign said. “I can drive,” Mark said calmly.
Screeech! Courtney slammed on the brakes, making Alder and me hit our heads on the backs of the front seats.
“Whoa!” I shouted. “Easy. We’ve got enough problems.”
“Fine,” Courtney huffed. “You drive.”
She got out, turned to run around the car, and stopped. “Uh-oh.”
“What?” Mark asked as he climbed over to the driver’s side.
“They’re coming.”
Courtney sprinted around and jumped inside. I looked back to see the two motorcycles with the red shirts on board, pulling out of the Sherwood house.
“You up for this, Mark?” I asked.
“Let’s find out” was his answer.
I was happy he didn’t stutter. Confidence was good at this point. Before Courtney had time to slam the door, Mark jammed his foot down on the gas pedal, and we were off.
“You don’t know how to drive any better than I do!” Courtney complained.
As if to answer, Mark spun the wheel hard, made a ninety-degree turn, and gunned the engine. It almost seemed as if he knew what he was doing. Almost.
Mark explained, “I was all set to get my license, but some things came up.”
That was a pretty big understatement.
“We’ve got to find a place to hide,” I said.
Courtney corrected, “We’ve got to shake those guys first.”
Good point.
Mark said, “We’ve got an advantage.”
“What’s that?” Courtney asked.
Mark made another quick turn, throwing Alder into me.
“I’ve been riding my bike around here for years. I know every street. They don’t. We might not be able to outrace them, but we can make it tough to follow us.”
The car was some big-old American sedan. It didn’t exactly handle like a hot street racer, which was probably just as well. If we crashed in this land yacht we were in, none of us would even be scratched. That was negative thinking. We weren’t going to crash. I hoped.
