"Go ahead," she said. "Better than getting caught." He stretched
his leg over hers and lifted himself up with his arms and sat on her lap.
In his new driving position, he was surprised that he could reach the foot
pedals. Rebecca curled her fingers around Mike's ribcage and he lightly
pressed his foot on the pedal. The police cars began moving again, and
Mike suddenly braked. A car drew up in front of them and a bright light
suddenly shown in front of Mike's face. He blackened his vision with his
hand a bit as to not get blinded by the policeman.
"Mike, are you going to run the cars over?" Rebecca asked in a low voice, her fingers etching into Mike's sides still.
"Worse," he grimly replied. Carly's cries distracted him for a bit. "I am going to run them over." Rebecca did not say anything, but she silently felt great sorrow for what Mike would do. Somehow, she felt responsible, though it hadn't been just her that had gone through abuse, which had gotten them here.
"You know what?" Mike muttered. "Fuck this." He lowered his hand and stood as still as a theatre dancer, watching his rearview mirror and then darting his view to the front, where two cars were pulled up in a disorganized fashion, their bumpers parallel to each other. "Don't move Becki."
"Becki can't move!" Carly yelled from her small cramped space. "You are sitting on her." Mike laughed at her observation. "Good point," he called back to her. He then lowered his voice. "Here is what is egging me on: the policemen don't think that I will run them over. They are all getting out to bombard us."
"You watch way too much television," she nervously muttered, her fingers drumming on his ribcage. "Mike, don't do it, please."
"I plan to do whatever it takes to not get hit again," he said, a rough edge lacing his voice. "Becki, I have to do it now." She nodded a bit. Her fingers remained curled around his ribs. Mike watched the men crawl out of their cars like mice confidently crawling out of their hole with humans watching from behind poles. Incoherent yells could be heard through the closed windows of the van.
Mike hit the accelerator and Rebecca closed her eyes in mental anguish as she heard the bump of a body against the front of the car. The car swerved violently and as Mike became more of an expert in wielding the vehicle, he hit people faster than before, not thinking of what he was doing. If he had done that, then he would not have been able to turn on the force in an unexpected manner. Mike then turned the truck-van on the police cars and jolted the vehicle forward, causing more damage to the police cars than the automobile that he was wielding.
And suddenly, it was over; as if Mike had been Moses and let the seas wash over the bodies and let the atmosphere calm again. Mike rested his head against his folded arms, which had fallen onto the large steering wheel. He could hear his sister weeping from behind him, and then he remembered that he was sitting on her, invading her space. He began to move into the other seat but Rebecca wrapped her arms around him and ordered him in a low voice: "Just get out of her now." But then her voice cracked once again. He hurriedly maneuvered the car towards an open space, and had to drive the car into the last perimeters of the cornfield before he could get back on the road again and drive away from his crimes. A few feet away from the mess of bodies and metal, he solemnly braked the car and jumped out.
"You can scoot over now," he said to his sister, nervously rubbing his shoulder while speaking. "We'll drive a bit more and then stop because we need to help these two and. . ." Mike suddenly began running.
"Mike!" Becki yelled from the driver's seat. "Where are you going?"
"Just wait there!" He yelled back, never slackening the pace. Rebecca stood and watched him, but decided to help Tommy and Carly first. She opened the back door and managed a wry smile though she could only feel guilty as she saw her sister in a cage and her brother in a straitjacket.
"This is all my fault," mourned Rebecca. "Carly, I don't know how we are going to get you out, and Tommy, we can get you out of that jacket. She diligently began loosening the straps.
"Becki," Carly started to say. Rebecca knew she was going to ask why Mike had killed those men.
"Those men wanted to catch us and bring us back to your father," Rebecca clarified for her. "Mike had to do something. He could not figure out what else to do.
"Mike is coming back!" Carly yelled. Mike's tall shadow figure could be seen. "Mike!" She excitedly bounced in her cage.
Rebecca put her finger to her own lips and told her sister that now was not the time. Rebecca did not know what lay out there; perhaps Mike had not killed the men or totaled their cars as well as he could have. She gazed out into the night, ignoring the few drops of rain that splashed daintily on her soft face. As he drew closer to them at a rapid rate, which was due to his jogging skills and continual determination, Rebecca walked a bit past the van and saw that Mike's figure had more dimensions to it. He clutched the bag in his hand, she later realized. Her mouth turned up in relief and she lightly jogged to the side of the van where she knew he would want to talk to her.
"Well? What happened?" She asked.
"I had to get the bag." He said. "I don't know if everything is in here." In heightened emotion, Rebecca threw her arms around him.
"Thank you," she whispered, parched vocal hiccups lining her softened voice. He put his arms around her, and with his fingers felt the bones in her back. "I swear to you," she continued. "This is all my fault." Mike retracted from the clinch of arms and looked at her carefully, wondering if those were tears or raindrops on her face.
"Becki, if you still think this is your fault-look, I got hit too. And if I had stayed there any longer he would have killed me one day. I can promise you that." Rebecca did not say anything else to him. She thoughtlessly drew her hair back behind her ears. "Did you check the bag?"
"Briefly for the inhaler, and it's there." Rebecca managed a smile and then turned serious again as she questioned Mike about the situation that he had created. He smiled at her and said: "Yeah, all either unconscious, I think, or dead. But I am not worrying about that. I am worrying about Tara and the rest back at the house. I say we drive this truck as far and as fast as we can go and then make a run in the opposite direction. Sometime tonight we'll undo Carly and Tommy." Rebecca nodded and both came to the children to tell them that they would be leaving now. Mike closed the back, and the two got into the vehicle. Mike quickly lurched the vehicle from stationary to a fast missile.
"Mike, are you going to run the cars over?" Rebecca asked in a low voice, her fingers etching into Mike's sides still.
"Worse," he grimly replied. Carly's cries distracted him for a bit. "I am going to run them over." Rebecca did not say anything, but she silently felt great sorrow for what Mike would do. Somehow, she felt responsible, though it hadn't been just her that had gone through abuse, which had gotten them here.
"You know what?" Mike muttered. "Fuck this." He lowered his hand and stood as still as a theatre dancer, watching his rearview mirror and then darting his view to the front, where two cars were pulled up in a disorganized fashion, their bumpers parallel to each other. "Don't move Becki."
"Becki can't move!" Carly yelled from her small cramped space. "You are sitting on her." Mike laughed at her observation. "Good point," he called back to her. He then lowered his voice. "Here is what is egging me on: the policemen don't think that I will run them over. They are all getting out to bombard us."
"You watch way too much television," she nervously muttered, her fingers drumming on his ribcage. "Mike, don't do it, please."
"I plan to do whatever it takes to not get hit again," he said, a rough edge lacing his voice. "Becki, I have to do it now." She nodded a bit. Her fingers remained curled around his ribs. Mike watched the men crawl out of their cars like mice confidently crawling out of their hole with humans watching from behind poles. Incoherent yells could be heard through the closed windows of the van.
Mike hit the accelerator and Rebecca closed her eyes in mental anguish as she heard the bump of a body against the front of the car. The car swerved violently and as Mike became more of an expert in wielding the vehicle, he hit people faster than before, not thinking of what he was doing. If he had done that, then he would not have been able to turn on the force in an unexpected manner. Mike then turned the truck-van on the police cars and jolted the vehicle forward, causing more damage to the police cars than the automobile that he was wielding.
And suddenly, it was over; as if Mike had been Moses and let the seas wash over the bodies and let the atmosphere calm again. Mike rested his head against his folded arms, which had fallen onto the large steering wheel. He could hear his sister weeping from behind him, and then he remembered that he was sitting on her, invading her space. He began to move into the other seat but Rebecca wrapped her arms around him and ordered him in a low voice: "Just get out of her now." But then her voice cracked once again. He hurriedly maneuvered the car towards an open space, and had to drive the car into the last perimeters of the cornfield before he could get back on the road again and drive away from his crimes. A few feet away from the mess of bodies and metal, he solemnly braked the car and jumped out.
"You can scoot over now," he said to his sister, nervously rubbing his shoulder while speaking. "We'll drive a bit more and then stop because we need to help these two and. . ." Mike suddenly began running.
"Mike!" Becki yelled from the driver's seat. "Where are you going?"
"Just wait there!" He yelled back, never slackening the pace. Rebecca stood and watched him, but decided to help Tommy and Carly first. She opened the back door and managed a wry smile though she could only feel guilty as she saw her sister in a cage and her brother in a straitjacket.
"This is all my fault," mourned Rebecca. "Carly, I don't know how we are going to get you out, and Tommy, we can get you out of that jacket. She diligently began loosening the straps.
"Becki," Carly started to say. Rebecca knew she was going to ask why Mike had killed those men.
"Those men wanted to catch us and bring us back to your father," Rebecca clarified for her. "Mike had to do something. He could not figure out what else to do.
"Mike is coming back!" Carly yelled. Mike's tall shadow figure could be seen. "Mike!" She excitedly bounced in her cage.
Rebecca put her finger to her own lips and told her sister that now was not the time. Rebecca did not know what lay out there; perhaps Mike had not killed the men or totaled their cars as well as he could have. She gazed out into the night, ignoring the few drops of rain that splashed daintily on her soft face. As he drew closer to them at a rapid rate, which was due to his jogging skills and continual determination, Rebecca walked a bit past the van and saw that Mike's figure had more dimensions to it. He clutched the bag in his hand, she later realized. Her mouth turned up in relief and she lightly jogged to the side of the van where she knew he would want to talk to her.
"Well? What happened?" She asked.
"I had to get the bag." He said. "I don't know if everything is in here." In heightened emotion, Rebecca threw her arms around him.
"Thank you," she whispered, parched vocal hiccups lining her softened voice. He put his arms around her, and with his fingers felt the bones in her back. "I swear to you," she continued. "This is all my fault." Mike retracted from the clinch of arms and looked at her carefully, wondering if those were tears or raindrops on her face.
"Becki, if you still think this is your fault-look, I got hit too. And if I had stayed there any longer he would have killed me one day. I can promise you that." Rebecca did not say anything else to him. She thoughtlessly drew her hair back behind her ears. "Did you check the bag?"
"Briefly for the inhaler, and it's there." Rebecca managed a smile and then turned serious again as she questioned Mike about the situation that he had created. He smiled at her and said: "Yeah, all either unconscious, I think, or dead. But I am not worrying about that. I am worrying about Tara and the rest back at the house. I say we drive this truck as far and as fast as we can go and then make a run in the opposite direction. Sometime tonight we'll undo Carly and Tommy." Rebecca nodded and both came to the children to tell them that they would be leaving now. Mike closed the back, and the two got into the vehicle. Mike quickly lurched the vehicle from stationary to a fast missile.