Chapter 3

As Sierra rounded the corner she was flooded with relief that his car was still in sight. She tried her best to stay a few cars behind him, hoping that he didn't notice her. This was Olympia. There must have been at least three other Prius's on the road at any given moment, so that helped. She let herself slip just a little further behind as he pulled onto the highway.

"You're going to loose him!" Molly protested.

"No I won't," Sierra replied with confidence.

And she felt confident about that. Adrenaline coursing through her veins, she was not only sure she could follow him successfully, but that she was following him somewhere important. Every instinct told her he was going somewhere he didn't want anyone to know about.

But as they kept driving, she lost all theories on where, or what, that could possibly be. The further they drove, the less populated the area became. They had left the city, then the suburbs, then wound their way onto a back road with nothing but dense trees on either side. It was the kind of road where the tree branches on either side touched, creating a canopy filled with dark green filtered light. Time lost meaning, the shadows giving the perception of night.

"New theory," Molly piped in after some time. "He knows we're following him, and he's leading us into the woods to bludgeon us to death and feed our bodies to the bears."

"We are not going to be bear food," Sierra insisted, but privately she was getting nervous about the surroundings.

There were no more cars on the road anymore besides hers and the governor's. Though she was trying to stay as far back as she could, surely he must have noticed her by now.

"I am not dying for your story, Sierra," Molly said adamantly. "I'm not allowed to die until I have a painting at The Met. We can go chase shady politicians through the woods after that."

"I have my gun," Sierra offered.

"You have a pea shooter," Molly objected. "I'd feel better if you'd brought a shotgun."

The Range Rover was at least 200 feet ahead of them, as far as Sierra dared to let it get without slipping out of her sight. It went over the crest of a hill and disappeared from view. Sierra followed him up over the hill.

The Range Rover was gone.

"Shit!" Sierra exclaimed, looking around wildly. "Where did he go?"

She slammed on her brakes and turned the car around. The Prius pivoted easily on the narrow, two-lane road. Slowly, she backtracked, trying to see where he could have gone. Then she spotted it. Just over the side of the hill a single-lane dirt road cut through the trees. Sierra stopped in front of it.

"Well," Molly reasoned, "Maybe tomorrow you could come back with a rental truck."

Sierra just kept staring at the road.

"No," Molly said, sensing her determination. "You are not even thinking about this. This is a hy-brid." She emphasized every syllable of the word, as if Sierra needed reminding.

"I'm pretty sure if you popped the hood you'd find a hamster on a wheel powering this thing. It doesn't go off road."

"That's a road," Sierra reasoned.

"No, that's a mud bog."

Sierra tried, and failed, to listen to reason. Visions of her byline on the front page flashed before her eyes.

"I'm not letting him get away," she said and she turned onto the road in pursuit.

"Shit," Molly said with ominous resignation.

She grabbed on to the Jesus bar as the car lurched.

Sierra bounced in her seat and punched the gas pedal, hearing the familiar electronic whir of the engine as it tried to keep up. Tree branches whipped past them, no doubt scratching up the glitter finish paint job. The road wound around several corners and foliage so dense Sierra flipped on the headlights. A blind corner lead into an enormous puddle. With an almighty lurch and a terrible bang the Prius sunk into the mud and stopped.

"No, no, no!" Sierra protested.

Molly sighed dramatically and leaned back in her seat. Sierra frantically gunned the engine. The tires spun, splattering mud out around them and the car stayed obstinately fixed in place. Sierra stared out the windshield in frustration. He was out there, just out of her reach.

She climbed out of the car, sinking one high-heeled foot into the mud. When she lifted her foot again the shoe did not come with it, vanishing completely into the murky soil. Cursing, she pressed on wearing only one shoe towards the back of the car, feeling the mud squish between her toes.

Molly hoped out of the passenger side, her usual sneakers holding up to the hybrid-eating mud much better than Sierra's heals had.

Sierra tried in vain to push on the back of the car.

"You killed the hamster. And now we're going to be bear food," Molly announced.

"That is not helpful," Sierra said.

She pulled out her cell phone. No service. Perfect.

Molly sighed as Sierra continued to push.

"Okay," Molly said, "Give me your gun."

"Why?"

"Because I, with the practical shoes, am going to walk that way," she pointed back towards the now only somewhat distant paved road, "Until I find some cell phone coverage. You can go dig in the mud for your heels, and if the bears show up, lock yourself in the car."

Conceding that this was a good plan, Sierra watched Molly hike away down the dirt road.

She trudged her way back to the open driver's side door and bent over the puddle. With some reservation, she reached her manicured hand in and felt around wildly for her vanished shoe. Her fingers seized on it, but the mud held it in a vice grip almost as tight as it held the Prius. Reaching in with both hands now, she tugged on the shoe as hard as she could. The shoe ripped suddenly free, throwing her off balance as she teetered on one heel. She fell backwards into the mud puddle, landing on her ass with a splash, still grasping the shoe.

Now covered in muck, thoroughly disappointed, and cold, she started trying to get up.

That was when deep voiced laughter greeted her ears. She looked up.

Governor Joe was standing in front of her.