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Joy Ride - an ABH
by: Sherrie
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Summary: Youıre a long way from home on a dark road in the middle of nowhere.
Rating: PG-13 in this section
Disclaimers: Grand Master Lucas owns Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan lock, stock, and....ah...yeah, barrel. Damn. I guess Iıll just have to put them back when Iım done. I got no money-honey, so donıt come looking to sue me for any.
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Part 6
You stand off to the side of the road and wait for the approaching vehicle to reach you. A little red Nissan pickup truck rounds the last bend and comes into view. You wave your satchel in the air and crook your thumb. You can see two figures in the truck....it'll be a tight fit in the cab if they *do* stop to give you a ride.
Thankfully, the truck starts slowing as it approaches you, finally coming to a halt just in front of you. The driver sticks his head out the window.
"Need a ride?" he drawls.
"Yeah! I just need a ride into town. Are you headed that way?" you ask him.
"Sure are," he replies. "Hop in!"
Gratefully, you toss your satchel into the back of the beat up truck. The man on the passenger side opens his door and slides out to allow you to crawl into the cab between the two of them. Inside, the cab is littered with greasy tools and pieces of paper, and innumerable unidentifiable bits of trash. The upholstery is worn and stained and the windshield sports a long crack on the passenger side. Behind you, the back window to the cab is missing, replaced instead with what looks like saran wrap duct taped to the truck.
"What happened to you?" the second one asks, gesturing at your hair and clothes.
Self-consciously, you realize you never combed out your hair after your shower. You were a little too....distracted...at the time, and then a little too angry at Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan to think straight. You look down at your clothes and notice that your little trek through the woods wasn't kind to your shirt. Small tears in the arms provide a little extra 'ventilation' now.
"Oh....well....my car broke down....I.....I got lost in the woods...." you trail off.
The two men are silent for a moment. You take the chance to study them for a moment. Tall, longlegged, rugged...the typical all-American kind of guys, wearing jeans and denim jackets. The driver even sports a red baseball cap over his close-cropped brown hair.
"Well, if you'd like," the driver starts up again, "Johnny & I can help you get yer car goin' again." Where'd you leave it?"
"Ahhhh....thanks but I don't think that will be necessary. If I can just get to a phone in town, I'll be fine. How far are we from town, anyway?" you ask.
A lazy grin appears on the driver's face, "Oh, 'bout a dozen miles...."
Johnny turns towards you and leans in over you a bit, "Yeah darlin' you led us on a pretty long chase last night!" He starts laughing a slow, deep, lecherous laugh.
Panic floods through you, freezing the blood in your veins. Recognition shoots through your mind as you realize these two were the one's you saw in the back of the pickup truck last night at the gas station. A distant, disconnected part of your brain chuckles at all the exercise your adrenal glands have gotten in the last 24 hours.
The driver laughs and the sound makes your skin crawl. "Our lil' bunny's come home!" he crows.
Johnny grabs at your arms and starts groping at your chest while the driver runs his hand up along the inside of your left thigh. You struggle against their combined attack. Johnny aims a kiss at your lips and you manage to turn just enough so he instead lands a sloppy kiss on your cheek.
Revoltion, horror, and fright lend you strength you did not know you had. With one desperate shove, you push your feet off from the floorboard and against the cellophane 'window'. The plastic wrap gives easily, tumbling you out into the bed of the truck.
The driver slams on the brakes, throwing you back against the cab. One of them grabs at your waist through the gaping hold of the cabıs back window frame, but you twist away, evading his grasp. Abandoning your satchel, you leap out of the still rolling truck and tumble to the ground. Sharp pain stabs through your right ankle and you grit your teeth against the pain.
You gather your scattered wits about you and plunge off once again into the bushes. Behind you, you can hear the two men shouting obscenities after you. Moments later you hear them crashing through the bushes behind you.
More adrenaline spurs you onward. The bushes and trees close in around you, grasping and tearing at your arms, legs, and face. Something thorny catches your jeans and leaves a bloody tear along your thigh. Distantly you know you should be feeling pain, but the adrenaline in your system has blocked all that. All you can do is keep running.
A blinding flash of light and a deafening crack stops you momentarily in your tracks. Behind you, you hear the two men cursing, but still they keep coming. You spring into action again, clawing your way through the undergrowth. Another loud crack of thunder makes you flinch.
You reach a small clearing in the forest. Through the break in the treetops, you can see the dark boiling clouds overhead. Another streak of lightning flashes in front of you, momentarily blinding you with it's brilliance. The clap of thunder physically strikes you a heartbeat later.
"There she is!" you hear Johnny cry from only a dozen yards behind you.
Absolute terror breathes even more life into your battered and ill-used limbs. You sprint into the clearing and across to the other side. Another crack of thunder smashes sound waves against you.
An unearthly roar and a huge gust of wind are your only warning before the rain starts to fall. Even deep under the canopy, you canıt escape the stinging rain drops. You blindly press onward as quickly as you can manage, holding your arms out in front of your face to ward off the worst of the slapping branches.
Suddenly the ground gives way beneath you. You try to arrest your motion, but it's too late. The leaves underfoot, now wet with rain, slip and slide beneath your feet. The angle of the hill is just enough to send you sliding mercilessly down it's slope. As if in slow motion, you feel yourself falling....falling...falling.
The ground at the bottom of the hill rushes up to greet you. You put your hands out to break your fall and for a moment you're thankful for all the dead leaves along the forest floor as they cushion your fall. Another flash of lightning steals your sight.
Shaken and dazed, you get to your feet. Your hands shake violently as you brush leaves from your face. Your ankle has begun to burn like it's on fire and your arms are covered in tiny cuts and scrapes. The cut on your thigh is bleeding profusely, streaking your jean red. Thunder buffets you from all sides and the rain pelts you mercilessly.
Another shout of triumph snaps your head back around. At the top of the ridge you've just fallen down the two men stand looking down at you. From the looks on their faces, you think to yourself they must be confident their prey cannot escape this time.
You turn and start hobbling off away from the ridge, stifling your sobs of terror and pain. The agony in your ankle flares to an unimaginable level. You climb and stumble over a fallen log only to sprawl head first into the wet leaves again as your ankle gives out completely.
Behind you, the two men shout out something unintelligible, and all you can do is curl into a ball of terror and wait for whatever to happen next. In your brain-numbed state, you can only hope they just don't kill you.
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TBC