Alan Cook - Run into Trouble

When Drake tried to get out of bed the next morning, he knew he was in trouble. He couldn’t even sit up because of the pain in his back. He had spent most of the night in one position, not daring to move. He lay still for several more minutes, wondering whether he could lie there until his back got better. At least he wasn’t in pain when he didn’t move. The pressure on his bladder banished that thought.

He knew that if he could roll over onto his side, there would be less pull on his back when he sat up. He finally managed that because he had no choice, but the pain almost overwhelmed him. He rested for another minute and made it to a sitting position on the edge of the bed. He grabbed the aspirin bottle from the nightstand and swallowed several of the white pills without benefit of water, ignoring the acidic taste.

He wondered whether he could lift his legs high enough to pull on his pants.

Several of the other runners were already eating breakfast at the Hotel del Coronado’s outdoor Boardwalk Cafe overlooking the blue ocean when Melody arrived there. Drake wasn’t among them. The air was still cool, but the sun was bright. It would get warm-perhaps too warm for marathon runners. It was a good thing they were running near the water where the temperature was always significantly cooler.

She sat down at a table next to a slightly built man named Aki-she thought he might be Japanese-and ordered a light breakfast.

Aki grinned at her. “Good day for running. I hope it doesn’t get too hot.”

“I hope not.”

The heat was the least of her worries, of which the major one was Drake’s fitness to continue. He had retired early last night, complaining of pain and fatigue. Million dollars or no million dollars, there was no point in torturing him. If they didn’t have a chance, why not pack it in?

“Good morning, Melody. Morning, Aki.”

Casey had a big smile on his face as he sat down beside Melody. He was wearing a conservative business suit with a tie this morning-Melody had to admit that he looked like a businessman-and radiated good humor.

Melody studied his bright red tie. “I take it you’re not going to run today.”

“Nope. Gotta get back to work.”

“Where’s your office?”

“Giganticorp’s headquarters is in San Jose. I’ll grab one of the shuttle flights that tool up and down the coast all day. They’re also going to make it easy for me to keep tabs on how you’re doing.”

He ordered coffee from a hovering waitress, glanced at the menu, and then turned to Melody.

“What do you hear from your teammate this morning?”

“Nothing.”

“Well, I’m sure he’ll be down in a few minutes. He looked strong yesterday. He appears to be recovering remarkably fast.”

Casey was either a cockeyed optimist or trying to convince himself of Drake’s good health.

Melody drank her orange juice while she contemplated a reply. Did she dare challenge the mighty Casey-CEO and self-proclaimed senatorial candidate?

“I don’t think it’s a good idea for him to continue. He might injure himself permanently.”

When Casey didn’t immediately say anything, Melody turned to look at him. The intensity in his blue eyes told her that he was fighting to hold back an outburst. He took a deep breath and a sip of coffee.

“He has to continue. He can’t quit now, not at the start. A lot of time and expense has been put into Running California. He has no choice.”

“Doesn’t he?”

Melody and Casey turned around and saw Drake who had come up behind them silently. Part of his expression was covered by the bandage, but his lips were set in a grim line, and an unusual scowl creased his smooth forehead. He wasn’t dressed in running clothes. He sat down laboriously in the seat next to Casey.

Melody broke the silence. “How do you feel?”

“Don’t ask. At least I’m up and walking, which is more than I could say twenty minutes ago.”

Drake ordered breakfast from the menu. Aki looked uncomfortable, excused himself, and left the table. Casey didn’t say anything. He appeared to be unnaturally subdued. Melody couldn’t think of anything more to say. She thought her point had been proved.

Drake managed a smile. “Did I walk in on a funeral? If so, I’d like to know who died. Not me. I’ll be fine. I just need a little rest.”

Casey found his tongue. “You’re right, of course. But you’re in excellent condition, overall. I think if you start slowly and get some more chiropractic treatments, you’ll work your way out of it. To show you my heart’s in the right place, I’ll give you-you and Melody-a thousand dollars just for completing today’s run. Five hundred apiece. Just don’t tell the others.”

Melody bristled. “It isn’t about money.”

Drake smiled for the second time. “Maybe it is about money. All right, we accept. A thousand dollars just for today.”

“Tell me again why you wanted to continue.”

Melody sipped water from her canteen and watched Drake as he sat on a rock beside the La Jolla caves and attempted to bend over and touch his feet. He was trying to get the kinks out of his back.

The sweat on Drake’s face wasn’t just from the warm sun.

“I can’t remember. Oh yes, I said it was for the money. Well, the money’s nice, but there’s something more. It’s a feeling I have.”

“Intuition?”

“Intuition is what women have. But something doesn’t feel quite right. Why is Casey willing to pay us a thousand dollars a day to stay in the run? That’s a lot of money. He wants us really bad.”

Before flying to San Jose, Casey had upped his monetary offer from a single payment to a thousand dollars a day-payable when they finished the run.

“Compared to the million dollar prize, a thousand dollars a day isn’t a lot of money. It’s also very clear that he doesn’t want me; he wants you. I’m just your partner. Here to provide you aide and comfort. Although I’m not providing the kind of comfort that Casey probably envisions.”

“I’m not capable of enjoying it right now, anyway. I saw the article about the opening of the bridge in the San Diego Union this morning. Casey got a lot of publicity for his announcement that he’s a candidate for the Senate. There’s a picture of him with us in the background. I have a feeling he’s going to milk this run for the publicity value.”

“What gave you the first clue, Sherlock? That’s not a crime, is it?”

“Not yet. I also keep going back to the accident that wasn’t an accident. Who and why? I don’t have any enemies in the U.S. government that I know of. And it’s a bit late for a foreign government to eliminate me. I’m harmless.”

“Maybe it’s somebody closer to home. Are any of your mates pissed at you?”

“I don’t have many mates. One thing I remember-the driver of the truck slowed down just before he hit the taxi. He didn’t hit it as hard as he could have.”

“He felt sorry for you.”

Drake struggled to his feet. “Right. Well, if we’re going to finish today’s run-and I use the word ‘run’ loosely-before midnight, we’d better get our bodies moving.”

“How far behind the others do you think we are?”

Melody wondered why Drake cared how far behind they were.

“We’ve only been doing this for a few hours, so we can’t be more than a few hours behind.”

“You’re so reassuring. I’m glad we’re partners.”

“I try to look on the bright side. Hey, that man isn’t wearing any clothes.”

“This area is called Black’s Beach. It’s clothing optional.”

“You didn’t warn me about it.”