A Million Different Ways (Horn Duet 1)

The officer tried once to tug the barking dog away, but when the dog persisted, he began circling the car. “Hey you, is this your car?” he asked Etienne in French.

Etienne hesitated a second too long. The police officer narrowed his eyes at us. Another hot stab of pain and my knees were suddenly unable to support me. A cold sweat swept over me from top to bottom. Between the anxiety and the pain, my breath was shallow, labored, and my heart beat as fast as a percussion instrument.

“I’m sorry, officer, my sister is not feeling well…yes, this is our car.” Etienne made an attempt at looking concerned and walked me over to the curb. I sat down and hugged my knees, hoping and praying the pain would subside.

The tips of Sergio’s mohawk danced as he fidgeted nervously with a cigarette. He looked like a nervous rooster and, even to my untrained eye, looked guilty as hell of something. The other officers, having been alerted by the dog’s bark, walked towards the car. Etienne left me on the curb to stand next to Sergio.

A crowd began congregating around me on the sidewalk, finding someone else’s misery or misfortune fascinating no doubt. The raucous bark of the police dog drowned out every other sound. I couldn’t hear the conversation transpiring between Etienne and the police but it didn’t seemed to be going well.

Sergio’s nervous gaze shifted to me, then to the officers, then the trunk. The situation was escalating. I could tell by the policemen’s body language that they were getting ready to search the car.

A disaster was slowly unfolding before my eyes. I knew that if they opened that trunk, we would all be arrested and I would find myself deported back to Albania to stand trial for grand larceny.

In a calculated decision, I willed my legs to move. Backing away slowly, I retreated into the crowd and, as I melted away from the scene, watched the officers open all the car doors, cuff Etienne, then Sergio. When I was out of sight, I sprinted to the back of the gas station where it bordered a dense forest.

…and then I ran. I ran like the devil was at my heels. Until the pain in my lungs and abdomen was a sharp knife skewering me. But this time I had no place to hide, nowhere to go and lick my wounds. Nowhere I would be safe.

I could barely see a foot in front of me, the area so rural I couldn’t detect any evidence of electricity. I had no idea where I was headed, or in which direction. The adrenaline focused all my energy on making my legs work. I stumbled over tree branches and thick vines of ground covering. My knee banged against a tree trunk, my cheek burned as a tree branch whipped across my face. And still I kept moving, pushing through the pain. The distant sound of shouting, and the bark of a dog finally registered. The policemen had discovered me missing and were giving chase, hunting me.

As the sounds approached, my foot hit a rock and sent me sprawling to the ground. I scrabbled to my feet, but a burning sensation so unbearable sliced through me that I collapsed again.

My hand accidentally brushed my jeans. It felt damp. The pitch black made it impossible see anything except the outline of my fingers. Then the clouds parted and a shaft of moonlight fell on it like a spotlight. My pale skin was stained with a thick coating of something black. My fingers trembled. The shouts were getting closer, almost upon me. Adrenaline forced me to get up.

I began running and, in my haste, never noticed the fallen tree at my feet. My foot got caught under it and I stumbled to the ground once again. This time I couldn’t manage to break my fall. Pure agony exploded in my head. Unable to go on, I lay there and thought of my father, of Sebastian and the baby. I had failed them all. And then everything went dark.

* * *

Everything hurts. My muscles felt like they had been pushed through a meat grinder. My head throbbed. My right hand was numb, clamped down by a prickly vise. I tried wiggling my pinky though I don’t think it worked. I couldn’t for the life of me figure out where the hell I was.

Apparently an elephant was sitting on my eyelids because it took all the strength I had just to crack them open. In small increments, light poured into the narrow slits of my eyes, flooding my vision, making everything blurry and dream-like. Only this was no dream, more like a nightmare.

I was so weak I needed a nap from the effort it took to open my eyes just a fraction. My hearing seemed to be working fine because I heard a deep, steady exhale. That peaked my curiosity. I tried lifting my lids a little bit more, and everything slowly and softly came into focus.