Elliott creeped towards Shavian, intent upon fulfilling his role and holding her hair. She heaved in a very not pretty way, and turned to him. There was murder in her eyes and flecks of vomit on her chin. The latter seemed to be fueling the former.
“Touch me and I will turn you and your corpse into an urban legend,” she growled.
Elliott withdrew his hand. This was not exactly how their first date had played out in his mind.
Behind them, he heard Junie’s feet hit the gravel on the side of the road and approach the girl. Shavian had stumbled into a grassy area on the side of the road. Junie put a solicitous arm around her shoulder and pulled Shavian’s hair back as she heaved once more. The breeze from the speeding cars on the freeway was blowing Junie’s loose blonde hair around her head.
Elliott turned to see Roger leaning against the back door of the van protectively, his arms crossed over his chest. When he saw Elliott watching, he called, “Oy, we need to get moving.”
Standing there, between the girl of his dreams who was having a very bad physical reaction to being drugged by maintenance closet chloroform and a man who had just flippantly admitted to having stolen guns in his free candy van, Elliott wondered for the first time if he was in over his head. He had only the best intentions but if things backfired (and it was looking increasingly like they might) his road to hell was going to be a six lane autobahn.
“Shavian, please, you have to understand. I’m just trying to help,” Elliott pleaded.
“Good job,” Shavian snarled. “I’ve always wanted to be-“ Her stomach gurgled unpleasantly. “-bulimic.” She bent over and was sick again.
That seemed, tentatively, to be the end of it, and she rocked back and sat down heavily on the pavement. Elliott stood there behind them, saying and doing nothing; it seemed the safest route.
With shaking hands, Shavian reached into her pocket and pulled out a cell phone in a sparkling pink case. Before Elliott could even protest, Junie said, “Hey, that’s pretty, can I see it?”
Shavian hesitated. She watched Junie warily for a moment.
“I need to make a call,” Shavian said. “But after that I’ll let you look at it.”
“No calls,” Roger shouted from the van.
Junie winked at her. “Just let me see it for a second.”
In the end Shavian seemed to decide that Junie was not the enemy, and handed her the phone. Junie took a moment to pretend she was examining the item before casually standing up and flipping the cell phone out onto I-5 like she was skipping a stone on a lake. It flew low and skittered right under the wheels of a Hummer; the crack of destruction was muffled by the sound of the freeway and the Hummer driver’s ego as he flew by unaware.
Shavian gaped, and then just snapped.
“What the hell?” she shouted. “Why did you-? What was-?” She stamped her foot, waving her hands around and spluttering unintelligibly. “Damn it, woman, I never backed up my contacts!”
Junie shrugged. “Sorry kid, but we can’t have you calling the police. We’re on the lam!” Junie said, grinning and bouncing on her toes. Elliott got the very disconcerting impression that Junie was having a little more fun than was entirely appropriate. “Now we should probably get going. Roger’s looking a little uncomfortable.”
“He’s a felon,” Shavian snapped. “I don’t care if he’s uncomfortable.”
“A felon with guns,” Roger called back. “Besides, you’re Mormon. That’s way worse.”
Shavian glared at him. Hoping to get back into her good graces, Elliott added, “She’s not that kind of Mormon.”
It didn’t work. “And exactly what kind of Mormon are you referring to?” she challenged him, getting right up in his face belligerently. Elliott backed away, but Shavian followed. “Huh? You’re a kidnapper. He’s a gun stealing felon-“ She pointed to Junie. “And she… she’s… she broke my phone!”
“Did not,” Junie protested. “I just set ‘em up. The Hummer knocked ‘em down!” She made a gesture like swinging a bat.
Shavian and Elliott both ignored her. “I have just about had enough!” Shavian went on. “And I am not going anywhere with any of you!”
Roger came up behind her and pinched her shoulder. She slumped to the ground, and this time Roger didn’t bother trying to catch her. She landed face first. Apparently he took exception to being called a felon.
Elliott gaped at him. “What the hell was that?” he shouted.
Roger shrugged. “Vulcan death pinch?”
“She’s not dead! And the Vulcan death pinch isn’t real.”
Roger glanced at Shavian’s still form and then hefted her back over his shoulder. “Tell that to your girlfriend’s face full of dirt,” he mumbled, heading back to the car.