Trouble & Treasure - Dave Moyer (reading rainbow books .TXT) 📗

car in for some bodywork anyway,” he said dryly. “But I don't know if this is a good idea; if I know Maratova, he would still have guys out looking for you near your house. He is the kind of guy who does things thoroughly.”

I felt sick at that thought. Though I was taking great pleasure in finding Sebastian irritating and arrogant, I had to admit he sounded infinitely better than this Maratova chap. That, I guess, meant I had to be thankful Sebastian had technically saved me from the man. Technically, because I’d done most of the saving when I’d managed to run through the woods in the middle of the night with no shoes.

“Honestly, this side road is hardly used; only locals know about it,” I continued. “Plus, I mean, you got away from them last night...” I trailed off, not sure what I wanted to say.

Sebastian ticked his head to the side. “I guess it wouldn't be too suspicious if I went and picked up my car, but you sure as hell have to stay out of sight.” He turned to me and locked me in a stern look. “I will try and park somewhere safe, out of the way, you stay in this car, and I will go and get the other one.”

I nodded. I found his tone irritating and overbearing, but I couldn't find fault with his words.

He shook his head and gave a low whistle. “I sure hope I don't have to run into Maratova again.”

I started to wonder what Sebastian's relationship with this mysterious Maratova was. All I knew was that Sebastian happened to be a lawyer who was somehow a treasure hunter too. I could remember that he’d been there at the auction when I had sold off the other globe. And, of course, he’d been at my house last night when he had saved me from the mercenaries in my drawing-room.

That didn’t mean that I knew what relationship he had with the other players in this game. He was clearly willing to do whatever it took – legal or illegal – to get his hands on those other globes.

I began to play with my hands again, wondering if I could honestly trust this guy.

“Look, you'll be okay, I won't be that long,” he said, for the first time his voice almost sounding concerned.

Was he looking at my body language, noting the fact that I had pulled away from him, that I was staring at the window, playing nervously with my hands in my lap, and thinking it meant I was scared? Well he was right but I wasn't particularly scared of being left alone in the car. I was, however, scared that if I trusted this man and he turned out to be bad, then it would probably be the biggest mistake of my life. The amount of trouble I was already in was huge; the amount of trouble I could add to that if my only apparent champion was a crook, was something that sent the coldest of chills through me.

As I gave a shiver from that horrible thought, Sebastian seemed to misinterpret it again. He lent down, twisted the knob on the heater to full, and gestured that I put my hands in front of one of the vents. “There's not much I can do about the windows, owing to the fact they have great sodding bullet holes in them, but you can have my jacket if you like.” He twisted his head and nodded at the back seat, where his jacket was folded neatly.

I was a tiny bit flabbergasted at that. Sebastian, in my mind, wasn’t a real gentleman. He was the guy who liked to pretend he was a gentleman so he could gain the attention and affection of ladies. I pictured Sebastian Shaw as an arrogant, self-interested nong. Yet here he was, apparently genuinely concerned that I found his shot-up car chilly.

That was enough to chase the doubt from my mind for now. “I'll be fine.”

“Suit yourself,” he shrugged.

I pointed out the hidden lane-way off to the side of the road that would be a shortcut to the lane-way that was near my great-uncle's manor.

It was a horrible road; there were potholes the size of tires, and some of them connected up into great ruts that ran across the entire road. Sebastian swore colorfully as he unsuccessfully tried to avoid them all, car bouncing around as the tires dug into the treacherous dips. Thankfully there wasn't too much mud, as fun as it would be to be stuck in a bogged car, tires churning up the mud as it spat through the holes in the windows and covered both of us.

He parked under a tree, though technically along this road everywhere was under a tree; the great big oaks, birches, elms, and pines all pulled up right against the ditch, forming a thick canopy above. It was no wonder that this road was hardly ever used; this close to the forest it was always plagued by fallen trees and branches, let alone the damage from encroaching roots and run-off when it rained heavily.

“Stay in the car and stay down,” Sebastian said for what felt like the trillionth time.

I nodded, trying not to be truculent about it; the advice wasn't there to irritate me, presumably it was there to keep me out of the hands of international criminals and wayward super soldiers.

Sebastian kept cracking the knuckles of his left hand as he walked around the car, muttering to himself that perhaps he should find a way to park it further off the road and down an incline. I pointed out that as fun as it would be to drive his luxury vehicle off the side of the road and into a tree, there was no point; this road was hardly ever used. I faced little to no chance of meeting anyone on it.

Sebastian didn't look too moved by my words, if anything, he looked like he was about to get back in the car and drive off again.

“Maybe this isn't such a good idea,” he said, voice extra gruff.

“Look, it’s not as if we have a lot of choice. There is going to be a limit on the amount of time we can drive around in a car that looks as if it has been target practice for an entire army.”

He didn't bother arguing at that, cracked the knuckles on his right hand this time, shook his head, warned me one more time to stay down and to stay quiet, and began walking away from the car and towards the lane-way a good kilometer away.

Watching him leave made all the feelings I'd managed to keep control of since last night bubble back up to the surface. Perhaps it was being alone, or perhaps it was the fact that for the first time I was sitting still and not running from anything or having to point out to Sebastian how idiotic and arrogant he was. I honestly had time to think, and time to feel, and what I was thinking and what I was feeling weren't pleasant.

There’d been a surreal feeling to everything last night, and with the excitement of finding the scales and cracking my great-uncle's clue, it seemed this was adventurous. Now reality was sinking in, and I realized I was sitting in a car that had no windows because they had been shot out by men I didn’t know, and who only knew me as a person to kidnap and torture. I was also currently fleeing for my life with a man who I hardly knew, and who I honestly didn’t believe capable of truly caring about my situation; Sebastian was after the other globes, that much was clear.

This wasn’t an adventure; this was a nightmare.

I ran my lips through my teeth, closed my eyes tightly as tears threatened to well within, and rested my head back roughly against the head rest behind. I began banging my head against it lightly several times, as several errant tears trickled down from my eyes and spilled over my cheeks.

I couldn't see this ending well. Sebastian was right, and this wasn’t a movie and nor was it a trashy airport novel. In the real world when criminals were after you, that didn’t give you license to walk right into the bad guy’s den and shoot everything up, steal the treasure, and retire on a nice tropical island. You had to go to the police, and if you didn't go to the police, you’d pay for it with some prison time.

I shook my head several times, more tears sliding down my cheeks, their coolness distinguishable from the burning, puffy, unpleasant feeling of my skin as I twisted my face with tension, trying so hard not to cry.

By this time next week I would either be dead or locked up in a prison cell somewhere.

That burst the banks, and I let myself cry jolly hard. I had a lot to cry about. This time last week I was over the moon at having found treasure in my great-uncle's attic. This time the week before last I was holding down a part-time job in a cafe, wondering whether I should go back to uni and study something worthwhile that would give me real job prospects.

Now look at me? Sobbing my heart out in a shot-up car on a lonely country lane-way while I waited for a lawyer who dabbled in treasure hunting to bring around a new vehicle that wouldn't get us pulled over by the police.

I kicked my shoes off, bringing my legs up onto the seat and hugging them tightly. It was about then that I heard the noise of a car coming up the lane-way towards me.

Unless Sebastian was a world-class runner, or had fashioned a helicopter out of some twigs and leaves, then it sure as hell wasn't him; not enough time had passed to allow him to get to the car and travel all the way back here. Plus, the car was coming down the lane-way from behind.

Despite the hot tears streaking down my face, my mouth went dry.

A horrible energy prickling over my back, I let go of my knees and tried to catch sight of the vehicle through the driver's side mirror. The only problem was we’d left that behind in the village when it had been shot off by a man whose neck reminded me of a tree stump.

So I did the only thing I could think of, and opened the door carefully, dropping to my knees.

The car wasn't yet upon me, but I could hear it churning up along the treacherous road.

Without hesitation I turned and ran, staying low, away from the car, until I was well behind the old and large trunk of an elm.

My breath was far too short, and far too quick, and seemed to choke through my throat as if it no longer had the room to make it all the way to my lungs. I swallowed wildly as I waited to catch a glimpse of the vehicle coming my way.

Though a part of me tried to entertain the prospect it could be Sebastian, I knew that was a faint and dim hope. Sure enough, in a moment, I was proved right: a large, black, four-wheel-drive hurtled down the road, drawing to a sudden stop as it rounded the corner and presumably saw Sebastian's car.

Though four-wheel-drives, particularly large and overly petrol-guzzling ones, were common in this part of the country, tinted windows were not. The car that now parked right next to Sebastian's had the darkest tinted windows I had ever seen. I imagined that even if I walked right up to them, I wouldn't be able to catch a glimpse of who was inside.

My hands drew away from the tree and they shook as I let them drop by my side. Though it would have been rational to stay and see who got out of the vehicle,