GRAVE DANGER

Grave Danger Chapter 7

Hours pass. Neither of us says a word. All I can think about is the gas tank. It'll last us two days at most. Martin said by the time the bandits get to Inverness we should already be on foot. Really, that should comfort me. They're on foot, that' why it'll take them a whole day to get to Inverness. But on the other hand, it won't take them long to figure out where we're headed. They might be able to somehow get a head of us, then what? There's no way we're making it to Whitewood. Does Martin know that? He has to. But if he knows there's no hope, why risk both of our lives? Why not just let the bandits kill him instead of making the deal to take the key from me? He'd die either way, so why go to so much trouble and get me killed too?

Get me killed too.

No.

He wouldn't.

Would he?

I don't know him anymore, I told Jackson. I swaid it aloud. I believed it. Do I still believe it? I thought he was the same person. He's been with bandits for four years. He couldn't possibly keep up a convincing act that long.

He's taking me to the bandits.

He's one of them.

He's going to kill me.

I pull my foot off the gas pedal and slam on the brake. The car screeches to a stop and I steer it off the road. "Raven?" Martin sounds confused.

I unbuckle and get out of the car. He jumps out and walks around the back, illuminated by the red tail lights in the dark. I open the back door and grab the nightstick from the seat, pull it up behind my head and position to swing at him. "Raven!" He exclaims.

"Stop it!" I growl.

"What are you doing?!" he stutters.

I swing at his head, he staggers backwards. "You're a liar!"

"What are you talking about?" He puts his hands up defensively.

"You're a bandit! You're not helping me get to Whitewood, you're gonna take me to the other bandits!" I roar.

"Why would you say that?!" He perplexes.

"Because it's true! Don't act innocent!" I glare.

"I'm not acting!I'm not a bandit!"

"What, am I supposed to just believe you?! How do I know you're not ripping me off instead of them?!"

"Raven, is that really what you think? Why would I do that to you?"

"Because you've been with them for four years! Do you expect me to believe you were just acting the whole time? I'm not stupid! You're a bandit!" I swing the nightstick at him again.

He barely dodges, and trips. He stumbles onto his elbows. I step forward, put a foot on his chest and pull the nightstick up behind my head again. "Stop!" he begs.

I narrow my eyes at him. "You stop! Stop lying to me! I thought you cared about me--"

"I do!"

"No you don't!" I howl. "You're just after my inheritance!"

"Please, Raven, just listen to me!"

"I am listening!" I spit.

"Could you do it without threatening me with a nightstick?!" he looks legitimately terrified.

I push him down more with my foot. "I'm not a moron, Martin! I'm not falling for this!"

"I know you're not a moron, Raven! There's nothing to fall for! I'm not a bandit!"

"Yes you are! Why else would you bother?!"

"Bother with wh--" I push on his chest again.

"I know there's no way we're making it to Whitewood before the bandits reach us. And you know that too, 'cause it's not even your plan! You're just gonna take me to the bandits who'll kill me so you don't have to, then you'll go take what my parents left for me!" I yell. "I can't believe how naive I've been. I thought I still knew you. I thought I still loved you. I thought you loved me..." my heart is pounding and my face feels hot.

The look in Martin's eyes breaks me. He's not a bandit. He's still the fourteen year old boy I lost. I don't have to keep missing him, he's right here. Tears start streaming down my face. I take my foot off his chest and take a couple steps back. He sits up slowly, a look of fear and depression on his face. I drop the nightstick and fall onto my knees, holding my sides. Martin scoots forward and wraps his arms around me. "I'm sorry..." I sob.

"Shhh." he runs a hand up and down by back.

How are you so forgiving? How does it not bother you that I was just about to beat you with a nightstick? How are you still so patient with me?

I sit in his arms until my knees are sore from sitting on the pavement. A cold breeze blows on me from behind, making me shiver.

Martin sits back up. I meet his eyes, he brushes my hair out of my tear stained face. "It's okay." He says softly. We stand up and he opens the back car door. I lie down on the back seat and he gets in the front and starts driving again.