In Too Deep(31)

"So why worry about it now?" I asked, intrigued.

"Because I have a reason to look my best," she said impishly. "And that reason also means I want to have plenty of stamina, too."

"Well you know, the best way to increase stamina at something is to do it over and over again," I replied, cocking an eyebrow. "What about that?"

"We're in the wrong store for accessories for that," she teased. "But okay, whatever you want to buy. Uh, and maybe a yoga mat too. I did a few yoga classes back in Lima that were a lot of fun, and I thought I'd give that a shot again."

Our shopping determined, we went up front and paid, hauling the heavy basket of stuff out to the truck. "So I had another question for you," I said as I loaded the box of weight plates into the bed of my truck. We’d gotten enough so that I could actually make sixty pound dumbbells if I wanted. "Want to get some more stuff for the house? I mean, my couch is pretty ratty."

"I kind of like the couch," Melina answered with a laugh. "We've made some good memories on it in just the time I've been here. But I’m sure we could get something. Why?"

"I was thinking the Bed, Bath and Beyond inside the mall, and maybe Victoria's Secret?"

"That's not interior decoration," Melina teased. "I think you just want to get into my pants."

"Well, they'll be a bit high on my legs and too small in the waist but I can try."

"You're incorrigible."

I grinned. "Thank you."

It took us all the way until four thirty to finish our shopping and get back on the Interstate back towards Truth or Consequences. "So what did you think of Las Cruces?"

"I think the next time we want to get out of town, Elephant Butte sounds like more fun," Melina said. She turned to look at me, and something behind us caught her attention. "Jesus man, slow down."

I glanced in my rear view mirror, seeing a car speeding up behind us. We were about halfway between Las Cruces and T or C, the road actually pretty deserted. "This road gets a lot of speeders. I'll let him pass by."

I edged to my right, giving him plenty of space to swing around in the passing lane, until something caught my attention. It was the double flash of light off the windshield that caused me to look up again, and I felt my heart stop with fear. The windshield was Faraday glass. "That's no normal speeder."

"What do you mean?" Melina asked, her expression changing as I jammed my accelerator all the way to the floor, my Dodge leaping ahead. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Putting space between us and them, I hope," I said. While my Dakota isn't the newest truck on the road, I'd made sure that it had a good engine under the hood. Even still, it was a Dodge pickup, and wasn't built for racing. Surging past ninety, I saw that the car was staying behind us easily, and was in fact starting to close the gap. "Damn."

"What is it?" Melina asked nervously. “And why are we speeding away?"

"That car behind us, it's dangerous," I said simply. I couldn't give her any more of an answer, keeping my attention on the road in front of me. I knew where we were, and I hoped that I could stay ahead of my pursuers for the next ten miles. After that, there was a rest stop, and maybe I could pull off there for safety.

Melina, realizing that she wasn't going to get an answer, thankfully did the right thing. There are two common responses when people are confronted with a chaotic, unknown situation. One is to shut up and pay attention. That’s the correct thing to do, but sadly, most people don't do it. The other is to freak the hell out, pestering anyone who might have information with an endless bombardment of questions that you aren't really listening to anyway. Usually though, the same people who are trying to save your ass are the people you are pestering with questions. That’s why putting a door between the pilot and the passengers in an airplane is a good idea.

I thought I'd started to put distance between me and the car, when it suddenly closed the gap again, not stopping. I swerved to the left, into the passing lane, whipping around a semi that blared its horn at us as we shot by. The reaction of the car behind me worried me more. It wasn't stopping. "In the glove box, there's a pistol," I told Melina. "If something happens, I want you to use it."

“Cam, what the hell is going on?!”

“Melina, just take it,” I said, pulling in front of the semi and jamming my brakes. I dropped from just over a hundred and twenty down to ninety in a matter of seconds, our seat belts locking up. I was hoping to use the semi to mask the maneuver, but I wasn't fast enough. Instead, the car clipped the back of my truck, spinning it out and into the dirt.

It was the first time Melina lost any of her cool, but even then she didn't lose it totally. Clamping her hands onto the arm rests next to her, she screamed once, shortly, as I fought to keep the truck from flipping over in the desert hardpan. We did a complete three-sixty, coming to rest with our nose pointed almost back towards the Interstate. The semi, which had seen it all, started to slow down. "Now we find out if they're ours or theirs."

“Huh?” Melina gasped, still shocked by the sudden change in situation. I reached over and thumbed the glove compartment, looking for the other car in the dust and chaos.

"The car. If they're ours, they'll drive on, not wanting to be identified. If they're not . . .” I pulled out my pistol, a Smith & Wesson M&P in 9mm Parabellum, and scanned the desert. "If they're not, we're going to have to fight."