Chapter 47

Lucy, meanwhile, still sobbing in a port-o-john, began to hear other things besides the ruckus of people outside the door.

A faint beeping from the area of her nether regions at first rolled off her ears like lint, and then, through its persistence, penetrated her ear drum like fire.

There was a beep coming from her bum.

Lucy let go of her face and wiped her tear stained hands on her dress, then froze to wait for a beep.

If only she had an echolocation device.

Wait.

Wait.

BEEP.

Beep.

Beep.

Lucy stood up, eyes still adjusting to the darkness of the room sans tears.

Beep beep beep.

It couldn't be.

But those men had said, "Or else."

That was a threat.

They meant business.

Who knows what they would do.

And this beeping, it sounded like something... not a microwave exactly, but something Lucy had heard somewhere before.

She suddenly had a flash of MacGyver's face across her brain. And then the A-team. And then Daniel Craig.

What was it they all had in common?

Think, Lucy, think.

BEEP.

A bomb!!!!

Bombs beeped. They beeped before they blew up and killed you!!!

Lucy hit the wall of the port-o-john so hard that it actually rocked on its axis.

Fumbling around in the darkness, she finally found the locked latch and released it.

She hit the ground like a beast, running on all fours at first, then after a collision with a Jay Walker and the Texas Rangers sign while looking back at the port-o-john to see if it had exploded yet, she rolled to her feet and ran.

She ran.

After a long time and a single breath, she made it to a Monster Truck display.

High, she thought. I need to get high, so those men can't find me and try to blow me up again.

Seeing a crowd gathered to one side of the massive outdoor pavilion, she scooted toward an abandoned corner with the largest most colorful truck, and climbed, tire tread by tire tread, until she was in the back of the truck.

And in Texas, when you say back of the truck, you don't mean back seat. You mean bed.

She laid down, face up, closed her eyes and caught her breath.

BEEP.

Lucy opened her eyes and saw white above her. Have I died? No, it's the tent. Yikes, it's a bomb. They knew I'd come here. How'd they know? I don't know. Get away, get away... Quick!

She leapt to her feet and, realizing she wouldn't be able to climb down fast enough, decided to await her fate in a fetal shaped ball in the front seat of the truck. At least it probably had an air bag to cushion the blow.

The doors were locked. She would have to jump for it.

An open sun roof on top of the cab let her try.

She jumped.

She soared.

She partially made it.

Her body hung through the sunroof, upside down, face first, butt out in the air underneath the big white tent, feet flapping in the breeze. She was stuck.

She sighed.

And then something fell from the sky. From above her head, near the roof of the cab, her cell phone slid out of her upside down pocket and clonked her on the chin.

Her cell phone.

It came to rest on the driver's seat, face up.

It beeped.

Oh, she thought.

A message from my Mom.