The Encounter (8 page)

              Bounty hunters came from many races. The huge lumbering male crossing the garage toward the front of her car was Xythonian, one of the most physically powerful races in the universe. Unarmed, she didn't stand much of a chance. However, the somewhat smaller one pulling open her car door was another matter.

              She shoved the door with both hands. The top of the door caught him on the bridge of the nose. She was out. He was stunned. He stumbled toward her. An open hand to the throat finished him. She looked back at the sound of her car being moved.

              The big one had tried to get between her car and the support column she was parked next to. Being all muscle and very little brain, it hadn't occurred to him to climb over. She glanced the other way. Another Bounty Hunter closed in. She was flanked. No place to go but up. She jumped to the top of her car avoiding a very large set of outstretched hands. She jumped to the roof of the next car. There was nowhere else to go.

She ran along the tops of the other vehicles. Car alarms began to fill the air. The third Bounty Hunter had a clean shot, but pulled his weapon back. There was no payment for a body. He gave chase exchanging his side arm for a capture weapon that delivered a stun. The big one bellowed with rage. He ripped off her car door and slung it across the garage at her.

              Her escape route ended at a stairwell door. She jumped to the floor. The door opened and a building security guard stepped out.

              He stepped in front of her. "Where you goin' in such a hurry?" He looked past her to the two bounty hunters closing in. "What the..."

              "I’d run..." She shoved him aside, entered the stairwell and slammed the door. The guard never had a chance to draw his weapon.

              The smaller one ducked around him. The big one grabbed the guard, snapped the man's back and tossed him aside.

              Once inside the stairwell, she ripped out the door latch. She started down the stairs taking them three at a time. When she hit the next landing, she broke the heel off a shoe. She kicked them off and kept going.

              The stairwell door on the sixth floor exploded from its frame, smashed into the wall and dropped to the landing below.

              Margaret hit the landing on the fourth floor. She laid her shoulder into the door. It was supposed to open into the stairwell. The door buckled slightly, and swung into the garage. Pieces of the door closer dropped onto the landing behind her. Maybe they'd buy it, she thought. They weren't too bright. She ran down the stairs to the third floor.

              Lawrence was halfway across the third floor. He had paused at the top of the ramp when he heard what sounded like two cars coming together above him. He sat for a moment, and then started slowly forward. He paused again when he heard, what was the fourth floor door giving way.

              What the hell, he thought. It sounded like a damned destruction derby. He was almost even with the stairwell, when the door opened and Margaret ran in front of him. He touched the brake.

              She looked at him. "Larry?" She glanced back at the stairwell door, and then ran for the passenger side of his truck.

              He put the truck in park, and unlocked the door. She opened it, climbed in beside him and shut it. She was breathing hard, not from the exertion, but from the fear of being caught. She was panicked and needed to catch her breath.

              He didn't know where to start. "Why did you run out like that?" He noticed her feet. “Where are your shoes?”

              "Look, you have to get me out of the building."

              "Out of the building. What happened? What the hell’s going on?”

              They were coming. She checked the outside mirror. "Please, just get us outta here. I'll explain everything."

              "I'm not going anywhere till you say something that makes sense."

              She was still watching the mirror. "I don't have time for this, sorry."

              She opened the door and got one leg out. The big Bounty Hunter appeared behind them on the ramp from the floor above. They saw each other at the same time. He pulled his weapon and started running toward the truck. She slid back in and slammed the door. Lawrence had no chance to say or do anything. She straddled the console, popped the truck into drive and shoved the accelerator down with her left foot.

              The back wheels broke loose for a second, and then bit. The rear end slid to the right and the truck lunged toward the stairwell. Lawrence grabbed the wheel and straightened it up. The wall at the end of the garage was rushing toward them.

              Lawrence pushed at her. "Get your foot off." He yelled. "Are you crazy? You're gonna kill us."

              She eased her foot back. He cut the wheel to take them down the ramp. There was a pop on the back of the truck. The ball of light appeared and disappeared along with part of spare tire rack, rear door and glass. He grazed the wall, losing the outside mirror and some paint.

              His truck turned onto the second floor. She pressed the accelerator again. He began to struggle with her. He couldn't move her.

              Now he was pissed. "What the hell are you doing? Get your foot off...
Get your Goddamned foot off
."

              She took over the steering wheel. She had to get away.

              Lawrence couldn't do anything with her. He reached for the keys, turned off the ignition and applied the brake with his left foot. The truck slowed down. At first she didn't realize what had happened and pumped the gas.

              He took hold of the wheel. "Don't, you'll flood it."

              The truck came to a stop at the top of the ramp to the first floor.

              She looked at the ignition, then at him. "What are you doin'?"

              "What am
I
doin'? Get off me. You're out of your mind...
Get off
and
get out
."

              She moved over to the passenger seat. "Larry please, you don't understand."

              "What's to understand? Jesus, lady, look at my truck... I hope you've got insurance."

              "Nobody asked you to follow me." She glanced behind them. "You better hurry, or you're gonna come face to face with a much bigger problem."

              He turned, looked at the hole, then at her. She wasn't faking how scared she was. Something crossed his mind. You know, that thing about something being the better part of valor. He started the truck, put it in gear and turned down the ramp to the first floor. He thought, this better be good... and she’d better have insurance.

              Lawrence's truck turned onto the ground floor and crossed to the exit. He slowed to let traffic pass, and then turned right, into the street.

              Texas Avenue was one-way only. The traffic wasn't heavy, with just an occasional bus to avoid. People were going about their business on the sidewalks.

              She hadn't said a word. She was facing her window.

              He glanced behind him, then at her. "What happened to the back of my truck? Who's after you?"

              She looked at him. God, what a mess, she thought. "I haven't done anything wrong. If you'll take me home I'll explain on the way."

              "Okay, where's home?"

              "North of here, off forty-five... Please... Hurry."

              He watched her from the side. Why did he have the feeling he was about to do something he'd hopefully
live
to regret?

                                                       ***

              The stairway exit to the roof slammed opened and the Bounty Hunters stepped out one behind the other. The big one carried the body of the one Margaret had killed. They crossed to the far side of the roof. An opening appeared out of thin air. They entered their cloaked ship and the opening disappeared.

              A few moments later the air surged on the roof as the small Scout Ship lifted off. Returning to the orbiting Mother Ship empty handed, with one of their own dead, might very well proof fatal for someone else.

CHAPTER FIVE

              Lawrence moved over a block and headed back toward Walker Street. From there he could get on the freeway. They rode in silence. She didn't say anything and he wasn't sure what to ask. If he'd had any sense, his nose would've stayed where it belonged.

              A number of meanings, for what he'd just witnessed, coursed through his mind. Maybe she was with the government or something. After all, whatever hit the back of his truck sure as hell wasn't standard issue. Maybe it was our government she was running from. Maybe they were after him now.

              A horn sounded. He merged with Forty-Five North from the Walker street ramp. He slowed down and fell in behind the lady with the horn. He moved to the center lane and accelerated to highway speed.

              He looked at Margaret. "I'm waiting... And this better be good or I'm takin' the first off-ramp."

              She took a deep breath. "You ever watch Star Trek?"

              Talk about coming out of left field. "Star Trek?"

              "Yeah, you know,
beam me up Scotty
."

              "Yeah, I know." He suppressed the urge to laugh. "What the hell are you talking about?"

              She was serious. "Well, I guess you could say I’m Captain Kirk. I’m by myself. So I guess I’m in command... If you know what I..."

              He cut her off. "Just wait a minute... What are you telling me? You're from...” He points at the roof of his truck, “She thinks she's an alien." Now he knew for sure who was chasing her, somebody with a net.

              "Well, that depends on your point of view. To me you're the..." He moved over two lanes to the right. She noticed. "Where're you going?"

              "The office, then New Mexico. As fast as I can get there." After he had a little talk with Mr. Ward.

              "I can't go back to the building", she pleaded. "I need my ship."

              He didn't seem to be interested any longer. She couldn't let him take her back. She didn't want to hurt him. Her desire for him was still very strong, but so was her will to survive and to get back to her family. The truck was committed to the off-ramp. She needed another way. There was a gas station just across the intersection.

              "Larry, please. I need your help."

              "Your need for help is the one thing we
do
agree on."

              "Please, pull into the gas station. Give me a chance. I can prove what I'm sayin' is true. What have you got to lose?"

              "A number of things come to mind. My job, my career,” glancing at the hole in the back of his truck,  “my life, just to mention a few."

              She sweetened the pot. "If you still don't believe me when I'm through I'll just walk away."

              Deep down he wanted to give her that chance. He glanced at her. "I'll hold you to that."

              The truck left the off-ramp, moved to the far right lane and slowed as it crossed the intersection.

              "All right, you’ve got five minutes to tell me something that makes sense."

              He paused to allow another car out, then turned into the service station and pulled away from the pump islands. He stopped the truck and turned off the engine.

              He leaned back against his door. "Five minutes, starting now."

              It was apparent words weren't going to work. She opened her door. "Let's go."

              He was losing his patience. "Where?"

              She looked back. "It's
my
five minutes."

              He opened his door. "Four and a half."

              They both got out. He followed her toward the men's room. This was stupid, he thought. A small, closed room, what if she had a weapon? He was pretty sure she was crazy. But this little voice in the back of his head, kept arguing in her favor.

              She opened the door and he preceded her in. She checked to see if anyone saw them, followed him in and closed the door. The last occupant had left the light on. She locked the door.

              To himself, "why am I standing in a men's room with a woman who thinks she beamed down from the Enterprise?” He raised his voice. "I don't know who's crazier, you or me."