Annie's Rainbow - Fern Michaels [106]
Overhead, thunder rolled like an angry bongo player bent on destroying his drums. Lightning danced across the sky. She saw trees and fields and deep ditches along the side of the road and nothing else.
The lights behind her remained steady. If she wanted to, she could put the utility truck she was driving to the test. The video she’d watched with such intensity said it could do anything, including going up steep mountains, going down steep mountains, fording rivers and gorges, driving faster than a pack of wolves. If the person following her, and she knew now that was exactly what was happening, thought she knew what she was doing and where she was going, she could make a turn to the right or left, go down and up the ditch, and hope and pray to God she didn’t hit a tree on the upswing. She needed another bolt of lightning to show her the way clear. If the person following her was driving a regular car, even if it had four-wheel drive, he’d never be able to cross the ditch. Did she dare risk it? What if she got stuck? What if she didn’t shift quick enough? The video said that would never happen. If this vehicle’s makers said it could prevail on the frozen tundra, the African jungles, and the Sahara Desert, then it should be able to cross a North Carolina ditch. Go for it, Annie.
Annie continued to drive, waiting for lightning to light the sky. Thunder rolled overhead, but the lightning was slow in coming. That must mean the storm was moving north. Or maybe it was east. She wished she could look at the watch on her wrist. The lights behind her seemed closer. Annie’s throat closed up tight. She felt an adrenaline rush as a bolt of lightning finally zipped across the sky. She didn’t think twice as she cut the wheel to the left, floored the gas pedal, and took off. She was jolted forward, but kept her foot to the pedal. The Rover strained, bucked, shot backward, then forward, clearing the ditch. “Way to go, Annie!” she shouted at the top of her lungs. An open field lay directly in her line of vision. The twin set of headlights didn’t seem to be moving. That had to mean the driver was stuck in the ditch, or he’d stopped in time to avoid going nose down.
Now, if she could just figure out where she was, she would be okay. When she turned on the overhead light to look at her watch, the compass part of the Swiss mechanism told her she was going southwest. Before she searched out her map she needed to crawl into the back for her carryall bag. If nothing else, the cell phone and the gun would give her a false sense of security. She felt another adrenaline surge as she stuck the Glock into the waistband of her jeans. The cell phone went into her denim shirt pocket. Sooner or later she’d be in range and she’d be able to call Elmo and Jane on the cell phone.
The car’s headlights were still faintly visible. That had to mean her lights were visible as well. Would the driver of the car realize she was at a standstill or was he incensed that he was stuck in a ditch? There wasn’t that much distance between them. Possibly a half mile at the most. She needed to move and she needed to move now.
Annie shifted gears and knew instantly her back wheels were mired in mud. Lots and lots of mud. She must be in some kind of cow pasture, and of course there was mud. She climbed from the car, the flashlight from the console in her hand. If there was ever a time to throw a hissy fit, this was it. There was no way she could hope to get the Rover out of the mud. Only a tow truck with a top grade winch was going to get this truck out. She looked down at her feet and saw only mud. She struggled to pull her right foot out and heard a loud glop. She lifted her other foot out of the mud and heard the same sound. Damn. She was going to need wings to get out of this mess. There was nothing behind her but total blackness and driving rain. She squinted, trying to see if the car’s headlights were still on. She simply couldn’t tell.