Dissension (17 page)

DEATH VALLEY

“You can do this.” Anthony mumbled to himself.

He sat squished in the backseat with his oversized hiking bag crushing his thighs.  The taxi driver eyed him nervously from the rearview mirror. His shifty eyes watched as if he was waiting for a knife to be buried into his back.  Anthony’s eyes met his and he quickly looked back to the road. 

They reviewed the plan a million times and packed for every environment imaginable, yet Anthony felt woefully unprepared.  The terrain they would face as they attempted to transverse the four states into Colorado would be a mixture of dense forests, cascading mountains and deserts that went on forever.  Somehow what seemed like such an easy task only hours ago now seemed not only impossible, but suicidal.

Anthony literally had to fight the urge to jump out of the taxi, head back home and accept his fate.  On some level it seemed like the right thing to do, sacrificing himself for the good of the many. 

Mikey nudged him as if he could sense the despair Anthony felt.  “We’re gonna be fine dude.”  He whispered while tossing a piece of gum in his mouth.

Mikey smiled then he quickly looked away, hoping Anthony wouldn’t see the look of doubt in his eyes.  They planned to alternate between taking taxi’s and buses the majority of the way while hiking and camping in between to make sure they weren’t followed.  If all went well they’d be sitting comfortably at his uncle’s house in a little over a week.  Hopefully he’d have some answers, or at least be able to help.

Joey, the Italian taxi driver, hummed some obscure tune as the car puttered down the road.  He was hesitant to take a band of teenagers, but a few hundred dollars courtesy of Steve seemed to change his mind.  He still looked at them like they were bank robbers.  Anthony suspected he might call the police so he watched him anxiously.

They were now crossing through the Mojave Desert on their way out of California.  Any presence of civilization had disappeared some time ago.  Anthony was starting to come to grips with the utter lunacy of his plan and was afraid everyone else would soon come to the same realization.

They were hardly the backpacking type.  No one besides Mit could hope to navigate ten miles outside of their own neighborhood.  Now they planned to hike and backpack across four states into some of the most hostile habitats nature had to offer.  It didn’t matter that Mikey’s dad owned a tent; Mikey had never used the thing.  If even one of them managed to make it back alive, Anthony thought it’d be a success.

Steve turned around from the front seat to face them.  “We’re really doing it,” he smiled.

Anthony mustered a little smirk and Mikey nodded at him.  Sticks lay fast asleep with his head on Mit’s shoulder as he drooled down the window.  Their snores reminded Anthony of bears he saw in a zoo once. 

The barren landscape rushed by as the little taxi sped down the desolate highway.  Cool, night air buffeted into the open window blowing against Anthony’s face.  He stared off into the darkness wondering where this adventure might lead them.

Suddenly the glow of headlights appeared out of nowhere, piercing the black veil of night.  Anthony, Steve and Mikey whipped their heads around in unison as the light illuminated the cabin.  The headlights quickly grew from tiny specs and engulfed the entire car.  Then, just as quickly as the lights had appeared, they faded away. 

Anthony eyed Mikey and Steve nervously and then tried to inconspicuously wake up Sticks and Mit.  Mikey looked back again and could see the outline of a white Suburban.

“It’s them.” He whispered to Anthony.

The lights flooded the car again, but this time the Suburban bumped the back of the taxi causing it to lurch forward uncontrollably.

“Hey!” The taxi driver yelled looking back out of the window.  “What’s the problem?”  He threw his hand into the air.

The roar of the engine echoed in the night as the Suburban sped up.  Anthony and Mikey looked nervously out of the rearview window.  They fidgeted in their seats in an anxious panic.  Joey eyed them skeptically then his mind started to piece things together.

”You little brats steal something?”  He screamed.

The Suburban bumped them again and this time the taxi slid slightly off the road as the driver feverishly tried to correct it. 

“Drive faster.” Anthony yelled. 

“I’m letting you guys out!”  The driver retorted as he began to slow the car down and pull to the side of the road.

“They’ll kill you too.”  Mikey said desperately. 

He wasn’t sure about this, or even who they were, but it seemed like a valid conclusion.  The driver glanced at him and then floored the gas pedal and the taxi jumped back onto the road and sped away.  He mumbled curse words in Italian, shaking his head in anger.

“You boys no good.  I knew it.” 

Mit and Sticks were now wide awake and they started to grab their things as if jumping out of the speeding car had become the general consensus.  The taxi driver fumed, he screamed obscenities at the top of his lungs as he maneuvered the car, which was moving well over seventy miles per hour. 

The Suburban’s headlights blared through the back window as it gained ground.  Without slowing down, it smashed into the back of the taxi, sending the car into a flat spin down the dark abandoned road.

Mit screamed and dug his fingers deep into Mikey’s arm.  He let out an earsplitting wail.

“Get off me!”

Sticks froze in his seat like a statue.  Anthony assumed he passed out again and the rapid spinning of the car had forced his eyes open with a stupid look on his face.  Steve curdled to the floorboard in a fetal position and screamed over and over.

“I don’t wanna die, I don’t wanna die!” 

Suddenly, the car slammed against a mound of dirt and grass, which caused it to slow a little before flipping it over onto its side.  Still moving at a high speed it slid off the road kicking up dirt and gravel in its wake.  Another mound of dirt sent the taxi tumbling over into the night.  The sound of crushing metal and screams echoed through the air.  Pieces of car and bits of trash were sent into the night like cannon fodder.

Anthony gritted his teeth and closed his eyes as they barreled through the desert.  The car continued to flip several more times before coming to rest on its wheels in the dark, empty blackness. 

A cloud of dirt plumed into the night sky pierced only by Steve’s screams, which still resonated through the air.  Mikey quickly threw a hand over his mouth, forcing him to quiet down.  His other hand went to his forehead where a continuous stream of blood poured down into his eyes.  The driver sat motionless still in disbelief at what happened.  His hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, turning his knuckles white. 

Anthony was the first to come to his senses; he sat up and looked through all the windows trying to locate the white SUV.  They slid fifty yards off the road and down a small embankment.  The car now rested against a large boulder that hid them from view.

One of the headlights was smashed and the other barely projected light through the thick dust cloud that surrounded them.  The roof was caved in and the windshield had exploded into a hundred tiny pieces, some of which were buried into Joey’s face. 

Anthony kicked the door several times and it swung open before falling to the ground with a loud ping.  He stepped out of the car into the cool desert air.  They didn’t plan on navigating the Mojave on foot and much less in the dark, but their luck seemed to be heading in that direction. 

Anthony crawled up on top of the large boulder and crouched, his head barely visible above the swirling dirt that was slowly starting to settle.  As he scanned the night he could see the glow of the SUV’s headlights.  Next to the vehicle were a few men that looked like they were waiting on something.  They stared off into the night unsure of where the taxi had gone; the cloud of dust it left had hidden its trajectory.

“Get your stuff, we have to go.” Anthony ordered as he slid back down the rock. 

“You hold it right there.”  The driver interrupted springing to life.  “Look at my taxi, look at my face.  Your friends they do this.”

“We don’t know them,” Mit tried to respond, but was cut off.

“I hope they have the insurance for this,” he stammered in his Italian accent.

Before anyone could protest, Joey exited the front seat and was making his way back up to the road.  Anthony and the others quickly grabbed their bags and darted out into the darkness.  The dust was starting to settle and they were sure they’d be seen in seconds.

“Which way is East?” Mikey whispered to Mit, who took a look down at his watch and then headed off in the direction opposite the road. 

“We’ll figure it out later, I’m sure we don’t want to be anywhere near those guys.”

The five of them made off into the night like thieves, their heavy packs slowing them down.  Anthony stared into the darkness blinking, hoping his eyes would adjust like they’d done before.  Unfortunately like everything, else he had no control over them.

The dust lifted, but the moonless night covered them well.  It was a gift and a curse.  The men couldn’t see them, but they couldn’t see where they were going.  The treacherous desert was no place to wander off blindly.

Anthony could hear the men’s voices getting louder.  It sounded like someone was arguing.

“We need to hurry.”  He whispered.

They quickened their pace, trying to put as much distance between them and their would-be pursuers.  The dark night seemed to eat the noises they made as they moved deeper and deeper into the abyss.

Suddenly a loud crack rang out freezing, them in their tracks, turning their spines to icicles.  They turned their heads in unison right in time to see the taxi driver collapsing to the ground.  A man stood over him gripping a smoking gun, his eyes looking off into the desert. 

“Run!” Anthony said with his jaws clenched tight.

They all took off in a full out sprint tripping over bushes along the way.  They couldn’t see in front of them and didn’t dare look behind them. 

After twenty minutes of all out running on very uneven terrain, they finally stopped.  They doubled over from fatigue as they tried to catch their breath.

Anthony hadn’t noticed until then how cold it was outside and he dug into his bag looking for his coat.  As he pulled out the red and blue parka, a cell phone tumbled to the ground and lit up.  He shook his head and smacked himself.  He forgot that his old cell phone had been stowed away in his hiking bag.  His mom never got around to disconnecting it and the blinking light meant it was still getting a signal.  He was amazed that the battery hadn’t died, but then again it was an older model without all the bells and whistles. 

“Guys,” Anthony held up the glowing cell phone.

“Give me that thing!” Mikey snatched the phone and with a loud smack bashed it against a rock.  He picked up the broken pieces and launched them into the night.

“We need to move.” Anthony said with an alarmed face.

“You think they’re back there?” Mit eyed the group. 

“Don’t know but we need to cover more ground.”  Anthony looked up scanning for any signs of movement.

Without another word they took off running further into the desert.  Even Steve was moving with cheetah like speed, motivated by images of Joey’s lifeless body.  The temperature outside had dropped to the low forties, but beads of sweat ran down their faces as they tumbled through the desert.

They ran for what felt like hours.  Spurs and sticks clung to their pants and a film of dirt covered their faces.  Fear and adrenaline propelled them, but now the desert was starting to take its toll. 

“No one’s following us,” Mit panted as he bent over trying to catch his breath.

They covered at least six miles and hadn’t heard a thing or seen anyone behind them.

“Let’s rest here for a little.” 

Anthony conceded and they collapsed to the ground breathing loudly.  Mit took a small light out of his bag and immediately started tracking their location on the map.

A long, high-pitched howl echoed through the air.  For the first time they actually noticed that they were really in the desert.  Anthony smiled to himself; he was definitely off the grid now.  He lay back onto his pack and stared up at the silver specs that littered the night sky. 

“Um guys we have a little problem.” Mit whispered.  “We kind of went the wrong way.”

“Bro, I knew it.” Mikey blurted.  “I asked you which way to go!” 

“Well we were running from psychopathic car crashing killers, if you don’t remember.  Not the best time to sit around trying to figure out directions.”

“Okay, okay,” Anthony interrupted.  “We’ll have to back track.  Let’s rest ten more minutes then get going in the right direction.”

Mikey chucked a rolled up t-shirt at Mit and then lay back on his side.  Sticks stood off to the side staring into the night.  He was barely breathing hard.  Everyone else found a spot to rest while Sticks paced back and forth.

The temperature dropped another ten degrees.  Anthony started to wonder how much colder it could possibly get as the bitter wind stung his face.  He pulled his jacket snug and rolled over, his head swarming with questions.  His eyes felt heavy and burned. It was now somewhere near one in the morning and he felt like he hadn’t slept in days.  Slowly, his eyes closed and the sound of the night vanished.