Fata Morgana
an excerpt

A stinging slap finally woke him. Eyes snapping open, he moaned slightly, blinking. The pain in the side of his face faded as he focused on the face before him. Eyes, green eyes, and blonde hair.

“Diana!” he yelped, jerking awake, wrists straining. He turned his head, trying to see where he was. Car windows flashed brilliant colors through the pouring rain, and he could hear it now, the pattern of water flowing over the roof.

His eyes came to rest on the car’s radio. Three a.m. The shock took a few seconds to register in his numb brain, but when it did, he began to thrash. No, his legs had gone on strike. So had his arms. But his wrists, they were moving…and chained.

“Diana!” This time, anger took him. The handcuffs around his wrists tethered him to the passenger-side headrest. He was sprawled across the back seat of the car…their car. Well, it was his car, really…

Vaguely, he saw Diana slide away from him on the other side of the back seat, out the door as her hand closed around – a key. He swore. She laughed.

Her heels tapped out a morse code on the slick pavement as she moved to the other door, sliding in behind the wheel. He strained, trying to hear if there was a hidden message there, an I love you or This is only a joke, James, calm down.

Finding no meaning in it, he settled back, boots kicking away the junk littering the floor. He frowned at the perfume bottle, wondering where it’d come from, or the flap of a cereal box. It was nothing but the rubble of their lives together.
“Diana?” he managed a third time, a lingering sense of defeat in his voice as he threw his head back, trying to shake strands of his long hair from his vision. In the end, it failed, one lone curl falling tauntingly directly in front of his left eye.

“Shut up or I break out the duct tape.” She gestured at the roll settled on the dashboard and he paled. She wouldn’t…but, then again, he’d also thought she wouldn’t go this far with a grudge. He shut up.

The side of the road faded away as the key slid back into the ignition, the car grinding to life. A wall of water erupted in an arc as they slid back out onto the road. He watched their wake in the lake-sized puddle behind them until Diana’s foot clamped down on the gas pedal, and they jerked forward, speed rising.

He glanced at the speedometer and bile rose in the back of his throat. Ninety. She was going to get them both killed for sure.

Somewhere, his logic revived itself and began giving him a pep talk. Speeding like that on a highway, someone was going to notice. They would be pulled over, he was saved from whatever her plans for him were… Just as suddenly, the spark of hope faded. It was three a.m. No policeman in his right mind would be setting speed traps at three o’clock in the morning, and any policeman not in his right mind wouldn’t help him.

He turned his head to stare out the window again, hoping that a road sign would clue him in. Where they were was as good a place as any to start looking for ways to escape the madwoman driving.

A sign blurred past. New York City, One Mile. He felt his fear redouble. Five hours. Diana had been driving for five hours at least, to arrive at New York City from Massachusetts. What could she possibly be doing in New York City, this far from home, at three in the morning?

They sped into the city, and he could have sworn they knocked over a few pedestrians in their wake, momentum carrying them impossibly fast. He thought he scented burning rubber as they collided with a curb, sliding back onto the road, narrowly avoiding a street lamp.

Contenting himself with reading the neon signs as they passed, he dispelled the fear for a few warm moments. He’d never spent more than a day or two in New York. A feeling of childlike awe overwhelmed him. Everywhere, the city went up, and he could have sworn they were dragging against the sky.

Fine time to be a tourist, his inner cynic added, and he had to agree. Now was not the time to be a speechless sightseer. Not in this kind of situation. He glanced around, wondering how he was going to be able to pick the lock with his hands bound. How capable were his toes at gripping things? Could they reach his lips from there? No. It looked hopeless.

At last, they were carried to the side of the road again, slamming him into the door. He winced, recent bruises on his back protesting the impact. No, he mused. What now?

Diana’s door opened with a crash, seatbelt unhinging, and she slid out. The clink of metal on metal sent a rush of hope through him. The keys. For a moment, he allowed himself the hope of redemption, the idea that somewhere in her insanity, all she really wanted was a change of scenery, a chance to be alone together somewhere new.

The breath he’d been holding escaped his lungs in a rush of air as the bonds around his wrists fell away. Ignoring Diana, he began rubbing at the raw, red rings worn there, trying to restore circulation to his numb fingertips.
Hope faded again as one firm hand clamped down on his shoulder. His scalp screamed in protest as she dragged him by the hair, jerking him out of the vehicle. He had a fleeting glimpse of his imprint in the leather before he felt freefall.

The cement sidewalk rose to meet him, battering his slender body as he collapsed in a tangle of his own limbs. A yelp slid past his lips. It was a high-pitched whine like that of a mistreated dog. He winced, noting the sound even as he shuddered. Every inch of him went rigid against the ground before yielding to collapse.

He raised his eyes, extending one hand towards her, pleading. He had no breath left for words. She watched him, moonlight tracing patterns in her hair, lighting her eyes. For a split second, the madness left her gaze, replaced by something loving.

And then she laughed, cold and bitter. It ended, closing like a steel door on their lives. The hatred returned to her face. She turned on her heel, murmuring, “Goodbye, James. Darling.” The last word was poison, and he flinched. He lost her as he lost sight of her, the car leaving him alone in a wall of water that shot high, a brilliant reflection.