Mary, Mary

Chapter 68

SHE SQUEEZED HER EYES SHUT for just a half second. What were you supposed to do in this situation? And why had she never gotten around to buying a cell phone? Urn, maybe because she was alrnost dead broke.

When she opened her eyes again, the one in the blue jacket was at her side window, a rnenacing look on his face, a tattoo of a red dragon on his neck.

She screamed in spite of herself - just a small yelp, but enough for him to see how scared she was.

Then her panic level crept even higher It took her a moment to realize the kid in blue was saying something. His hands were held up flat, in a “calrn down” sort of gesture.

She cracked the window “W-what?” she said, unable to keep her voice from quivering.

“I said, 'you lost?'” he asked. “That's all, lady - you lost? You look - lost.” Alicia choked back a sob. “Yes. I'm so sorry” It was a bad habit; she apologized for everything.

“I'm just looking for -”

“'Cause I know you don't live around here,” he said. His expression shifted, and hardened again. The others laughed at the joke. “This your car?”

Fear and confusion locked Alicia into subservience, which she hated. All she could think to do was answer his question. “It's my parents'.”

The guy in blue rubbed his chin whiskers as if considering her answer. “Lotta people looking for a car just like this one,“ he said. ”Don't you read the papers? Watch TV?”

“I'm just trying to get to Westwood. For an audition. A TV movie. I got off the highway before I was supposed to -”

He howled with laughter, turning away from the car to his group, and then back again.

His rnovements were casual and slow "She's trying to get to Westwood to be in a movie.

A film. Darnn, that's about exactly what I expected. 'Cause I know you ain't got no interest in anything or anybody 'round here."

“Nah, man,” said one of the other boys. “She do her killing in the rich neighborhoods.”

“I got no problem with that,” said another “Kill the rich, eat the rich, whatever”

“What are you saying?” She looked at each of them now, desperate for any kind of clarity, a clue about what she should say or do to get out of there. Her wild-eyed gaze fell on the rearview mirror. Could I back out of here? Fast? Really, really fast? Pedal-to-the- metal kind of thing?

The kid at her window lifted his jacket to show a pistol tucked into the waistband of his jeans. “You don't want to do that,” he said.

The idea that she could be murdered before she had her morning coffee came over Alicia with an ugly reck- oning. “Please, I just ... please. D-don't h-hurt me,” she stammered.

She could hear the helplessness in her own voice. It was like listening to someone else, someone pathetic. God, she was supposed to be an actress.

The man in blue nodded slowly, in a way she couldn't de cipher. Then he stepped back from the car and put out his hand to let her pass.

“Highway's that way,” he said. The other two moved off to the side, too.

Alicia felt as if she might faint from relief. She gave the men a watery smile. “Thank you. I'm so sorry” she said again.

Her hands were shaking on the steering wheel, but at least she was safe.

The Suburban had barely inched forward when, with a sickening crack, the front windshield shattered into a spider- web of about a million glass pieces.

An instant later, a heavy metal pipe smashed through the driver's-side window.

Paralysis overtook Alicia. Her arms and legs wouldn't function. She couldn't even scream.

The impulse to floor the accelerator got to her brain a mo ment too late - about a second after her car door flew open and large, powerful hands dragged her out onto the street. Alicia landed on her back, the air rushing out of her lungs in a gasp.

“What kind of stupid are you?” she heard someone say - and then she felt a shock of pain on the side of her head.

Then she saw a pipe rise up high and come down really fast, a blur aimed right at the center of her forehead.