Endurance - Jack Kilborn [36]
“You putting on the spare?” Mal asked. He was also standing up, scanning the trees.
“It’s a Corvette. There is no spare.”
“What? Why not?”
“Each tire has unique treads. They aren’t interchangeable. So no spares.”
Deb reached into the trunk for her Cheetah prosthetics. They were easier to walk in than her cosmetic legs. Especially if they were going into the woods to look for the Inn.
She could guess how hard it would be to find a tow truck in this area at this time of night. That was if her cell phone even worked. Reception out here was spotty at best.
“Look, Deb, maybe I was wrong. About the gun thing.”
“You think?”
“I’m sorry if I freaked you out.”
“Apology not accepted.”
“Okay, how can I make it up to you?”
“You can carry my suitcase.”
She adjusted the silicone end pad in the gel sheath on her stump, then fit it into the custom cup of the running prosthetic. A few presses of the vacuum button and it was form-fitted and tight. Then she took off her cosmetic leg and repeated the process. With her Cheetahs on, walking was much easier. She waited for Mal to stare at them. How could he help it? She looked like the Greek god Pan, prancing around on his goat legs. All she needed were horns and a lute.
But Mal was staring at her chest again.
“See anything you like?” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
“Sorry. It’s just…”
“Just what?”
He shrugged. “I know it isn’t professional, me being a reporter. But you’re an attractive woman, and I like you.”
Deb didn’t appreciate how that made her feel. “You’re right. That’s not professional.”
“You think I’m a doofus, don’t you?”
“A doofus? How old are we, twelve?”
Mal grabbed their luggage. Deb went to close the trunk, but paused. She didn’t want to leave her prosthetics. If the car were towed, she wouldn’t be able to compete in Iron Woman without them. So she shoved them all in a duffle bag, then went into the car and grabbed her cosmetic leg, which was caught on the wire pulley system that activated the brake pedal. After putting on the hazard blinkers and locking the door, she was ready to go.
“Let me have the light. I need it to see where I step.”
Mal handed it over. They walked off the highway and onto the dirt. Deb flashed the beam at the RUSHMORE INN sign, with its arrow pointing ahead.
I don’t like this. I don’t like this at all.
But she knew they had to try it out, or else spend an uncomfortable night in the Vette and face exactly the same problem in the morning. That was out of the question. If Deb missed the check-in, she missed the race.
“So what exactly is it about me that you don’t like?” Mal asked.
“Insecure much?”
“That’s the thing. I’m not insecure at all. But people usually like me.”
Mal shined the light on the forest floor, side-stepping a dead branch. The trail was easy to follow, even though it couldn’t be called a road.
“Cockiness isn’t attractive,” she said.
“Am I cocky? I thought I was just confident. Maybe not as confident as you…”
Deb stopped and hit him with the light. “And what is that supposed to mean?”
“I’m just surprised you’re letting me carry your suitcase.”
“Are you saying I can’t accept help?”
“I’m saying you’re superwoman. I expected you to strap the car to your shoulders and run it back into town.”
“That’s a pretty insensit—”
Deb stopped mid-sentence. An odor had penetrated her nose and tongue. A distinctive odor, rank and musky.
It awoke a deep-seated fear in Deb. A primeval fear.
A familiar fear.
I know that smell.
Deb swept the beam around them, frantically looking for the source.
“What’s wrong?”
She opened her mouth, but the words stuck in her throat.
Can it be? Jesus, no…
“Deb? What is it?”
With great effort she managed to get the two words out.
“Mountain lion,” Deb whispered as her light came to rest on a bush, reflecting off a pair of deadly yellow eyes.
The ride to the Cozynook Motel was nerve-jangling. Felix spent most of the trip looking in the review mirror. Checking to make sure John stayed under the tarp. Checking to see if