She shook her head. The highway took them through a small, dusty town called Jasper. Miles passed, and then there was another small town called Fonda. Nobody seemed to notice them, and Electa started to hope that they'd really lost them. But then, a mile or so after they left Fonda, she looked in the rearview mirror again, her gaze lingering. "I think we've got company," she said.

He went stiff, he didn't think he wanted to look back.

It was them. Electa floored the accelerator and the Mustang shot ahead, its engine roaring. It was miles between towns out here; they were in the middle of nowhere, with only flat, scorched land and endless skies. The highway was a run-down road, almost empty of traffic. Behind them, the silver pickup accelerated, too, eating up the distance between them.

Vex did what he shouldn't have, peaking back, before turning back around and yanking at his bracelet again.

The pickup drew closer, gaining on them with almost comical speed. Then the people were right on their tail, almost bumper to bumper. Electa glanced in the rearview mirror, her eyes met the womans. She was gripping a pendant around her neck, glaring right at her. The man was at the steering wheel, his expression fixed, intent, like a hunter with a ten-point buck in his sights.

Suddenly the pickup rammed them from behind. The Mustang jolted forward with a metallic crunching noise. Swearing, Electa spun the wheel, careering over the yellow line. Its engine roaring, the pickup pulled up beside them on the passengers side. The woman had taken the wheel; the man was holding the rifle, pointing it right at them.

Electa saw it in the same instant.
"Get down!" she shouted, swerving. She shoved Vexin toward the floor just as gunfire sounded and the window burst into thousands of fragments of glass.

He gave a shocked but soft yelp as he let her shove him down, he was so tempted to yank her down out of the way of the bullets but he knew that would cause them to crash. His bracelet was taking a beating from his death tight grip on it, this type of fear would've had him begging for a cuddle from his brother.

"Stay down," ordered Electa. She took her gun from the waistband of her jeans, flicking the safety off. But before she could fire back, there were tires squealing and the pickup had pulled in front of them. There was the popping sound of gunfire again.

She swore again, and ducked low in her seat as the windshield exploded.

Safety glass flew all around them; a sudden rush of wind howled past. The Mustang veered wildly, but somehow Electa managed to keep control. The sound of rifle fire became more distant, and finally stopped altogether. Electa pulled onto the shoulder, did a screeching three-point turn, and headed back in the direction they'd just come from, wind whistling through the car. A few minutes later, she turned the car, and a rough bumping before she stopped the car.

Electa had pulled off the highway; they were on a dirt road in the middle of a field. There was a cut on her cheek where a piece of glass must have struck her--a thin trickle of blood, like a red teardrop, tracing down her face.

Vex pulled his upper body up from the floor and peaked up, teal eyes wide as all heck and glasses somewhere. Probably strewn somewhere, and he couldn't see them. "Oh g-goodness."

"Are you okay?" she asked urgently, gripping Vex's arms. "Vexin, are you hurt?" Her eyes were wide, almost frightened.

He mostly had to rely on her voice to read her without his sight and he nodded, gently putting his hands to her shoulders to try and reassure her. He wasn't exactly sure she'd be all good and dandy and not all 'touch me and I shoot you' if he hugged her.