Rocky cursed and slammed on the brakes. James could see the two men in his side mirror, now standing right behind the car, their guns not quite raised but not quite held casually at their sides. “We’re trapped!” Rocky cried.
James breathed heavily as he heard a car door slam in front of them. Two more men approached, mere silhouettes in the blinding light.
“Alright, play it cool,” James breathed.
Rocky glanced at him, and James could see his hands shaking slightly on the steering wheel. “James, if they think we have information on Derek, they’ll take us.”
James tried to think of what to do, but his mind felt stuck. He was completely petrified. All four men had guns. One wrong move...
Derek wasn’t here to save him. He’d been in dangerous situations involving men with guns before, but he always knew that no matter what stupid and boneheaded move he decided to pull, Derek would be there to save him. Not this time.
The men behind them stopped, seeming content to act as a barrier if Rocky tried to reverse. The men emerging from the blinding light, however, were getting closer, approaching the driver’s side window. In a few seconds, they would be there...
“Screw it!” Rocky roared, and he twisted the steering wheel hard to the right while slamming on the gas.
The car shot off like a cannon, straight for a driveway to their right. They hit it sideways and went into the front lawn, skidding back and forth as Rocky wrestled with the wheel, grass and dirt flying up around them. There was a loud, explosive chatter behind them, followed by the sound of breaking glass, and something pinged off the roof right next to James’s head. The next moment, Rocky pulled the car out of its slide and drove off the curb. The front of the Jeep slammed against the street with a loud clang, sending them both lurching forward. Rocky stepped on the gas again and they were off, careening down the neighborhood road, blowing through several stop signs.
They came to a four-way stop and Rocky hit the brakes, pulling the wheel hard to the right. The tires screeched beneath them as they drifted around the corner. James’s shoulder slammed against the window as Rocky corrected the turn and the car straightened.
Several more hard turns later, Rocky turned onto the main road and sped off, leaving the neighborhood far behind.
“Is anyone following us?” he said, his eyes wide and his hands clenching the steering wheel.
“I don’t think so.” James turned and looked out the back window. Near the top, the glass was cracked into little lines like a spiderweb, and in the middle was a perfectly circular hole. “There’s a bullet hole!”
“Those crazy bastards shot at us!” Rocky said, his voice still high-pitched. “They shot at us!”
James leaned back in his seat as they drove into the city. He felt sick to his stomach. The pinging noise near his head must have been the bullet. A few inches lower, and he’d be slumped against the dash right now, dead.
“Where do we go?” Rocky said. He kept glancing in the rearview mirror, as if expecting to see that blinding light again, the black SUV following them.
“Can we go to your place?”
“What if they saw me?” he said. “I don’t want to bring that on my parents.”
James nodded. If the men had gotten a good look at both of them, it was best if they lay low for a while. Contacting any family or friends would just bring them trouble. They were on their own.
“Well,” James said. “The bunker sounds pretty nice right about now.”
So Rocky turned the car toward the outskirts of the city, still nervously checking the rearview mirror. They drove down the dark, neglected roads that led to the old part of the city, the headlights pushing back the shadows in which James saw men in black suits. They rode in silence. They were both, James figured, wondering how in the span of a few hours they had become fugitives running from the law.
Chapter 7
The warehouse, James was relieved to see, was untouched. Rocky pulled up behind it, hiding his car from view of the road. The warehouse echoed, as empty as ever, when they walked inside. After the short ritual of standing on the crate and scanning James’s hand, they were in the bunker.
“Well,” James said, pushing aside the old newspaper clippings and putting the two clues from the water on the table, note and flower lying side by side. “Should we figure this out?”
“Yeah, we’ve got it,” Rocky said, perusing the shelf of canned food. He found a bag of jerky, ripped open the top, and started chowing down.
“Recognize our true friends, and always ask for help,” James read off the paper slowly. “What does that mean?”
“It seems like good life advice,” Rocky said through a mouthful of jerky. “Maybe he just wanted to leave you with some wisdom.”
James’s heart fluttered. Even though Rocky was being sarcastic, his words rang true. What if James was getting too excited? Maybe Derek just wanted to give him some last words, to speak to him as an older brother one last time before disappearing. But then why the hiding? Surely the government wouldn’t care if they found a note from Derek giving him life advice. And what about the flower? James picked it up. It didn’t look like anything special. He wouldn’t glance at it twice if he’d walked past it in his mother’s garden.
“Does this flower have some special meaning?” James wondered aloud.
Rocky squinted at it. “Hmm. Well, flowers smell good, right? Maybe it’s another piece of life advice.”
James glanced at him, unable to tell if he was being sarcastic or was actually on to something.
“Recognize when you smell, and always ask for a
