Prologue
472 Words
Prologue
“Now who’s the liability?” the woman snarled, swatting at a cloud of gnats. “That stupid rain flooded this so-called trail. Oh, we’ll make it through, you said. Know what? You’re a loser and we’re screwed.”
“Just shut up, okay?” he said, gritting his teeth. “We’re fine. Lots of time. Highway’s just over there.”
“Yeah? Great. And I suppose we’re going to thumb a ride to Maple—whatever that place is, DAMMIT! My shoe’s coming off.”
“Maple Auto Sales and Service. I think it’s just a few miles up the–”
“A FEW MILES!”
“This is the U.P. We can hitch a ride. People are very helpful up here.”
“Well that’s just perfect. How about we call? Maybe they’ll come get us. You know, send a limo.”
“No limo. We have a sedan lined up along with our passports.”
“What kind of place is this anyway?” she said. “
“They have unique services.”
“So call them. I can’t walk in these shoes. And the bugs—something’s crawling up my neck. What the hell’s crawling up my neck?!”
“There is nothing crawling up your neck. And we can’t call. No cell service out here.”
“Of course there isn’t. Christ! I just hate this God-forsaken hellhole. Help me up the bank. I’m slipping. And get the goddam thing off my neck.”
* * *
A half mile back, Sergeant Tori Haapala saw that the two were going at it. The woman took a swing at the man. He grabbed her arm and jerked her along. The call had come in as a possible domestic around Maki Corners on US Highway 41. Very strange, walking along there, miles from everything. No disabled car in sight. No nearby houses. Haapala flipped on her overheads and braked, sending the cruiser into a bounce.
“Six-one to dispatch, ten-twenty-six.”
On the scene.
“Ten-four,” dispatch responded.
Haapala watched the two stumbling along the shoulder. This was trouble. When they heard the crunch of tires, the pair jerked around and spotted the cruiser. Both made a feeble attempt to run, but the woman stumbled and fell. The man kept going. An APB alert had just come in on felony suspects—a man and a woman—thought to be fleeing on a Polaris ORV, likely heading east from Peshekee on trail two, adjacent to Highway 41. The off-road vehicles (ORVs), which looked like the love child of a Jeep and golf cart, were ubiquitous on the two-track roads and backwoods trails of Upper Michigan.
Extreme caution. Considered armed and dangerous.
“Hot damn!” Haapala said and snatched her radio mic off the dashboard.
- Writer
