Alez Kava - One False Move

11:33 a.m.

We're headed in the wrong direction." Melanie said. She had spent most of her life within a hundred-mile radius of Omaha, Nebraska, but even so, she still knew that Colorado was west. They were headed south.

She was getting hungry and tired and the sun was blinding her. She pulled down the sun visor only to be face-to-face with a gold-framed Jesus pin-tacked to the inside fabric of the visor.

"Jesus!" she grumbled and flipped it back in place. She'd rather have the sun in her eyes.

"I'm hungry," she said, hoping it sounded pathetic enough for Jared to allow them to drive through at the next fast-food joint. Though out here the miles between towns kept getting longer. She glanced over her shoulder at Charlie, who was sleeping with his head propped against the window. His red hair stuck up in spikes and his right fist was tucked under his chin. No use trying to enlist him in her food dilemma.

"I said I'm-" She was interrupted by a package of gra-nola bars flying over the seat into her lap. "I need some-" The bottle of water missed her head by inches.

"For Christ's sake, be careful. Geez." Melanie glanced at Andrew, embarrassed. She shook her head.

Charlie snickered, stretched and then added, "Yeah, can't we stop? I need to take a piss."

Melanie hid her smile. Finally, she wasn't the only one.

"How we doing on gas?" Jared leaned over the seat to see for himself as if he didn't trust Andrew. "The next town's Auburn. It should have some kind of convenience store. We'll get gas and supplies. Charlie can take a piss and then we'll turn around."

"Whadya mean turn around?" Charlie piped up before Melanie had the chance.

Jared handed him the map, opening it to the right panel. "'We'll cut back and head for Colorado."

"I knew it. I knew we were headed in the wrong direction," Melanie said to Andrew, but the writer hadn't said a word since they left the farmer's place. In fact, he'd just been staring straight ahead at the road as he drove, his left hand at the top of the steering wheel, barely moving. His eyes were hidden behind a pair of sunglasses he'd found on top of the visor on his side.

Melanie held off opening the package of granola bars. She could see the town just beyond the next curve. Maybe the place would have slices of pizza or one of those turning roasters with hot dogs. Some of the nicer convenience stores had both. She wanted real food, and only now realized she couldn't remember when she ate last.

Jared hung over the front seat again, getting a better look at the approaching town.

"Can we buy some toothpaste and a toothbrush?" Mel-anie asked. "How much can we spend?"

"Isn't that just like a woman?" Jared said to Andrew, slapping him on his shoulder as if they were best buddies now.

Melanie cringed, thinking an injured shoulder harnessed up like that must still hurt like hell, but Andrew didn't flinch. He didn't even move. He just stared ahead, like a robot. She hoped he wasn't falling asleep. Her bruised ribs couldn't take another car crash.

"Can we get some Tylenol, too?" she asked Jared.

She figured he owed her big-time for helping him tie up that farmer. She just kept reminding herself that the guy's wife would be home soon, and he'd be put out of his misery.

"That looks good. Pull in over there." He pointed to what looked to be a freshly painted Gas N' Shop. "Melanie, check the fucking glove compartment. I need a pair of sunglasses."

"Yeah, that's what I need, too. Can you pick up a pair for me?"

She dropped open the glove compartment and shoved the contents around-map, tire air gauge, matchbook, a pack of cigarettes and finally a pair of dark-lense glasses. She handed them to her brother as she hesitated in closing the compartment. She'd forgotten how wonderful, almost sensual, the scent of cigarettes could be. Her fingers wanted to grab the pack and tap one out. Just one. God! She'd love to have just one.

"Melanie, you fill up. Charlie, go take a piss but don't take forever. Melanie, did you hear what I said?"

"Can I go in and get what I need?" She turned and glared at him as though he hadn't heard her before.

"No, you're not going in."

"Oh, come on, Jared. I need some things, and I want some real food."

"I'll take care of things."

She scowled at him. "That's what you always say."

She had to be careful. She didn't want her whining to push him too far, to send him over the edge. He had never gotten angry enough with her to hurt her or Charlie or even their mother. But she had seen what his anger could do. And she found herself wondering if that's what went wrong in the bank. Did someone not listen? Did someone have a smart mouth?

"I'll get everything you fucking need," he told her. "Put the gas in the fucking car, and then you wait."

She saw Jared checking the gun, and suddenly she wasn't hungry anymore. He shoved it into the waistband of his jeans and pulled the T-shirt over it. He patted it, checking to make sure it was secure.

She wanted to tell him to leave the gun. It had already caused enough problems. She wanted to ask how the hell he could rob a bank and not take any money. Instead, she said nothing. So he'd rob a convenience store with a gun instead of a con. It was easy. It was cheap. She'd probably have done it, too, if she didn't hate guns so much.

One thing she did know for certain was that when you stuck a gun in someone's face they'd do just about anything. They'd beg and plead. They'd even cry like a little baby. Her father had. He'd started crying like a little baby when he realized his empty apology for beating the hell out of Jared and Melanie wasn't going to save him. There had been too many beatings, and it had been way too late for apologies.

"Everybody ready?" Jared asked, startling Melanie. Then he tapped Andrew on his harnessed shoulder again. "Ordinary Citizen Kane, you're coming with me."

11:41 gum. Auburn, Nebraska

Andrew had been trying to block out their voices. The whine of their arguing felt like sandpaper on his brain. He wished he could disconnect, get inside his head and forget about everything around him. Sorta like when he was in a good flow of writing.

Unfortunately, as he had discovered this past year with his writing, it wasn't something he could control, like a switch he could turn on or off. If only it were that simple. If only he could access it right now. Go away for a while in his mind. Pretend. Isn't that what Tommy had told him was his problem? That he lived too much in the world of pretend rather than the real world?

When was that? Was it days ago that he and Tommy had sat on the porch at the cabin? No. Just yesterday. God! That seemed impossible. Then it occurred to him. It was Tommy. It had to be. Tommy must have gone back to check on him. That's how they knew. Of course, how stupid of him. If Tommy was on the case, maybe there was a way he could leave a message for him. But what? How?

"Let's go." Jared punched Andrew's shoulder. The pain shot down to his fingertips. It took all his effort to keep from flinching, but he wouldn't react. He wouldn't give this son of a bitch the satisfaction.

"Keep your cap on and your sunglasses," Jared instructed. "You stay close to me. We'll take our time. Go slow. Don't look like you're in a fucking hurry. When we see that Mel's finished filling up, you pay for everything with a credit card. They'll be tracking your account. It'll look like we're headed south."

Jared handed him his wallet, and it was the first time Andrew realized Jared had taken it. Of course he had his wallet. He had his bank card. Focus. Why the hell couldn't he focus? If only the throbbing in his head would quiet down. He needed to get his mind out of the spiderwebs. That's what it felt like-a lacy mess tangling up his thoughts.