Escape: Day 20

Word Total: 120,001

Year to Date: 990,114

Summary of Events:

Trace and Dallis continued to make for the border; three more cars full of gangsters caught up to them, but didn't do anything — Trace suspected they didn't realise Dallis had a passport and so were waiting to just pick her up at the border because they expected her to be rejected. Trace managed to get another one to rear end him just outside of Portal, which was just at the border, before one of the other cars appeared to have run out of gas or had a fuel line failure. The last one watched as Trace and Dallis were processed at the border and allowed to cross before turning around and leaving while Trace drove on to Estevan to spend the night.

Excerpt of the Day:

"He got through Estevan and saw the truck stop right away. Pulling into the parking lot, he took a spot off in the corner and parked the truck. Dallis was still sleeping, her lashes delicately laced together so that which belonged to each lid was indistinguishable.

Trace got up and went over to her. He gently unbuckled her seatbelt, but she didn't move, aside from her breathing.

Gently Trace bent down and slid his hands under her arms. She stirred slightly, but yet still didn't seem to rouse. Trace lifted her up into an embrace and held her close.

That set her stirring and fighting, so he released her and looked at her.

"We're here," Trace said quietly.

Dallis nodded, still looking defensive.

"It was a celebratory hug," Trace said.

"While I was sleeping?" Dallis snapped.

"I was also going to carry you to the bunk," Trace replied. "I didn't want to wake you up if I didn't have to."

"Well you did," Dallis said. "And I prefer it that way."

Trace sighed and followed Dallis back into the sleeping quarters.

"Can I have a celebratory hug while you're awake?" Trace asked.

Dallis' lips twitched as she looked at him sceptically.

"Please?" Trace asked.

She lowered her shoulders and Trace stepped into an embrace. Even though he could feel tension in her as he held her, he didn't care. She was letting him hug her, and that was more than he would have expected at the start.

Bending his head down, he nosed her cheek slightly, but she turned away, so Trace gently grazed his lips over her ear. That was probably the closest he was going to get to a kiss from her for the time being, not that he minded.

They were in Canada. Dallis was safe. He'd helped her to escape the bondage that the gangsters had been holding her in from birth, and hopefully he would be able to to help her to get a new start on a new life in a new country — as well as to bring down the gang that was still holding far too many other women captive.

Dallis shifted and pulled away from him. Trace sighed and stepped away so that she could change for bed. The most important thing was that they'd escaped the gangsters and were now free in Canada.

Nothing guaranteed that they would necessarily always be safe — until the gang was brought down, anyways — but Trace refused to let himself think about that. He was going to think about how good it was to have escaped, to have saved Dallis.

He never would've expected to have the experiences he'd had since he'd first seen her, and even though they'd been harrowing, as well as painful, he wouldn't trade them for anything. He'd been able to rescue one of the most beautiful women he'd ever seen, and hopefully he would be able to win her trust.

Trace wouldn't trade anything for helping Dallis escape."

The next post will be on October 31.

Escape: Day 19

Word Count: 114,008

Summary of Events:

Dallis watched as Fargo approached and waited as Trace fuelled up his truck. Trace made his way out of Fargo westbound. Dallis watched out the rearview mirror for the gangsters, but saw nothing until Trace had to pass a tractor and discovered they'd been hiding in the blind spot right behind the trailer. Trace planned to use the car's hiding in his blind spot to his advantage, once they got onto Highway 52, which would carry them all the way to the Canadian border . . . 

Excerpt of the Day:

""You're not going to do it until we're away from the city, are you?" Dallis asked.

"No way," Trace replied. "There would be countless people who would be able to tell it was deliberate. I mean, unless someone does a dummy move that forces me to anyways, but then I might get nailed with leaving the scene of an accident and being as they must have my plate number memorised by now they'd be able to tell the cops who it was and stop us from getting into Canada."
Dallis nodded.

"We'll wait until we're on the fifty two," Trace said. "And until we're at a nice, secluded place where there isn't really anybody around."

Dallis nodded again. Trace turned his gaze back to the road.

He still felt a little bit guilty about the idea of what he was going to do, in deliberately slamming on the brakes so that a car could rear end him. He felt like it was a cruel and unkind thing to do, but being as these guys had murdered far too many people — much less any — and were bent on capturing Dallis and likely taking his life as well, he really had no other choice.

There were times when he was going to have to be cruel and unkind to people he didn't even know, and this, it appeared, was one of those times.

Exiting off at the exit for the highway he would remain on all the way to the Saskatchewan border: fifty two, Trace maintained the highest speed that was safely possible on the ramps and curves before accelerating as quickly as he could to the top permissible speed on the highway — as indicated by a sign shortly after he merged on — to get away from the city as fast as he could so he could finally do it.

Thankfully it didn't take too long before he finally got far enough away that he was sure no witnesses would see clearly whether it was deliberate or accidental.

"I'm going to warn you, the jake's loud," Trace said.

"What's the jake?" Dallis asked.

"The engine retarder brake," Trace replied. "It helps things slow down faster in the event of an emergency without the brakes seizing up."
"You're going to use it?" Dallis asked.
"Yes," Trace replied. "In three . . . two . . . one!"

He saw Dallis jump out the corner of his eye at the volume of the jake as he applied it, bringing the truck to an abrupt halt. He heard a loud slam and saw a bit of debris go flying.

A twinge of guilt wrenched at him, but he shifted things down and then slowly started to accelerate again, shifting things up as he gained speed. Behind him he saw the wreckage of the Audi, and a man standing outside of it."

Escape: Day 18

Word Count: 108,010

Summary of Events:

Dallis spotted a carload of gangsters so Trace had to get his fellow truckers to do the blockade manoeuvre they'd done previously so the gangsters wouldn't follow him into Sioux Falls. Trace then went to pick up Dallis' passport, which took a lot longer and was a lot more agonising of an ordeal than he'd expected — and ended up with him revealing to the police that he'd found Dallis; which was a good thing. Trace and Dallis continued on driving for Fargo, with Dallis worrying that they would be caught . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

"Dallis took a deep breath. She didn't want to think about that. She didn't know what she was going to do if she were forced to run on her own. She wanted them to be able to make it to the border, because if that failed then there was no hope whatsoever.

She looked over at Trace and saw a drawn tension on his face. She had a feeling he didn't appreciate that thought either. And if that was the case then she wondered why he'd brought it up.

He had mentioned before that he was a pessimist, though, so it could be just the negative light of the whole situation had prompted him to say it, even though he didn't really like the thought of it himself.

Dallis had never felt more frightened, even in her prior escape attempts. She'd never felt this afraid. She'd never felt this much like she was standing on an edge, ready to jump, but with the land she was standing on more than liable to crumble out from underneath her feet before she could spring.

She shifted uncomfortably and looked over at Trace again. He looked very set and determined, although not entirely confident. He looked like he was determined to beat the odds and make it.

That confidence seemed to elude her now. She'd always been confident she'd be able to fight it out, but the fact that the men had caught up so quickly upset her.

"Dallis," Trace said quietly.

Dallis turned and looked at him. His mouth was half-upturned in a wan smile, and his hand was extended toward her.

Leerily, Dallis looked at his hand.

"I know, I know," Trace said. "I want you to touch me."

Dallis reached out and brushed her hand against his. Trace's hand quickly grabbed hers and squeezed it tightly.

It felt like a surge of energy had welled in her, even though Trace's hand felt cool to the touch. She returned the grip and gazed out the windshield as they kept driving. Her anxiety seemed to be fading.

Trace's hold loosened and his thumb gently rubbed across the back of her hand. Even though Dallis wasn't fond of being touched, she felt like there was something reassuring in Trace's hold, and so didn't let go.

"We haven't come by life easily," Trace said. "But I think we should be able to make it. And if we don't then, hopefully, maybe, someday, somebody remembers us, and we'll be hailed as heroic for at least trying."

"I don't want to think about that," Dallis whispered.

"If only there were something for us to do other than think," Trace said quietly.

Dallis nodded. She'd give anything to not have to think about the fact that prospects were not as good as she'd thought. She didn't want to think about the bleakness, being as the men were so vigilant, vicious, and likely to resort to any means necessary so as to get her back."

Escape: Day 17

Word Count: 102,027

Summary of Events:

Stopping for the night Dallis and Trace speculated whether the gangsters would be particularly close to them or not before going to bed. Trace was woken in the night by sirens and learned from a fellow trucker that his favourite truck stop was on fire; he talked to the owner and learned she'd been visited by the gangsters. Dallis was told about the fire and suggested they make for the Canadian border no matter how long it took. Trace thought that would be a good idea after some thinking and asked Dallis to look his map and give him the distances on it so that he could estimate how far they were from the Canadian border; she first figured to Winnipeg, then Trace told her to figure to Estevan . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

""Go out of Fargo west and tack north on the most major road from there," Trace replied, handing the map back.

"Your phone went black," Dallis said.

"Here," Trace said.

He took it back and unlocked it.

"Eight hundred two," Dallis said, after a silence.

"That's thirteen," Trace said.

"We'd still make it, though, right?" Dallis asked.

"It'd be cutting it a lot closer," Trace said.

"So you're thinking we should go straight north to Manitoba then?" Dallis asked.

"Well, I'm not sure how far it would be from the border to Winnipeg," Trace replied. "Unless we find a truck stop somewhere in the middle, but I don't think Winnipeg's too close to the border. I mean, it's closer than Calgary, but it's not perched almost on it like Vancouver is."

"You're more familiar with Saskatchewan," Dallis said.

"Well, no, not really, I just know Estevan's closer to the border than Winnipeg is," Trace replied. "Not to mention, it does take us a little bit more westward, which is more beneficial, because we would need to get that way anyways, and could save some gas by cutting off the corner that would be made going all the way to Winnipeg."

Dallis was silent. Trace heard the rustling of paper.

"The most annoying thing is that American highways either go north-south or east-west, they don't typically go on angles," Trace said. "Canadian rural roads work in a grid for the most part, but the highways just kind of go wherever they need to go to get to wherever they're headed the fastest, a lot more of an as-the-crow-flies sort of way."

"Here," Dallis said.

Trace glanced over and grabbed his cellphone back.

"So we've got good news, though," he said. "We'll get into Canada by the end of the day — no matter what — and it won't take more than eight hours to get to the border if we don't get all the way there in the time we have."

He looked over to see Dallis nod as she looked at the map.

"That's all saying that the gangsters don't somehow hold us up between now and then or anything like that," Trace said.

"They've only chased us before," Dallis said.

"Yeah, but they're probably getting seriously desperate now," Trace said. "After all, they got you back and now they've lost you again."

Dallis was silent.

"So, once they find us, they'll probably be a lot more inclined to act as quickly as possible," Trace said. "Goodness knows they might shoot out my tires, then shoot me up and blow up my truck."

"But that's only if they find us," Dallis said.

"Which I'm sure they will," Trace said.

"And only if they have sufficient backup," Dallis said.

"I don't think that'll be too hard for them to acquire either," Trace said.

"You never know," Dallis said.

"I'm sorry, I'm a bit of a pessimist," Trace said, sighing as he gazed at the grey pavement that flowed in a seemingly endless ribbon underneath his tires."

Escape: Day 16

Word Count: 96,014

Summary of Events:

Dallis watched Trace arrive and met him, they then continued driving while she told him a bit of how her escape had happened. The next morning Trace got a call from his roommate — whom he was supposed to go on a hunting trip with — and had to make up a lie about why he wasn't back yet before he and Dallis got to discussing names, which caused a traumatic memory from Trace's past to start him panicking . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

"Dallis looked out the windows, but she didn't see any black cars chasing after them; besides, Trace had never looked like this before when the men had been chasing after them, she didn't even think that Trace's panic had anything to do with what was actually present.

Looking around, Dallis noticed that things were moving faster, and she gasped when she saw how rapidly they were gaining on a little car ahead of them.

"Trace!" she screamed. "Stop!"

Trace swore hoarsely and suddenly the truck was slowing down until finally they were pulled over on the shoulder.

Dallis looked over at Trace. He looked rather pale, and he was trembling noticeably, his breathing still being fairly rapid.

As Dallis watched she saw a tear roll down his cheek. His jaw was quivering. He closed his eyes and more tears came. He then bent over and put his face in his hands, which didn't muffle his sob too well.

Unbuckling, Dallis stepped over to his seat and knelt down beside him. His body shook and a few more sobs escaped him, all sounding very tortured and painful.

Dallis gently put her hand on his shoulder. She didn't know what to do. She didn't understand why that had happened, and was happening.

Eventually Trace's crying settled down and he sat back up. He then stroked the moisture from his eyes and sagged back against the seat. Dallis took her hand back and stood up.

Trace's eyes slid over to look at her, red-rimmed, glassy, the green pupils showing a terrible torture and agony.

"I'm sorry," he whispered hoarsely. "It wouldn't leave."

"What do you mean?" Dallis asked.

"If I talk about it it'll come back," Trace whispered.

Dallis shifted her jaw.

"Go sit back down," Trace said, a little bit louder, although sounding rather shaky.

Dallis did as she was told, but watched Trace silently as he started the truck moving again, still looking rather pale and shaken.

It was like that other time when he'd talked about his stepfather. He was hiding something, and something — it appeared — that was immensely painful to him. Something that tortured him greatly.

Being as he'd mentioned that he'd suffered for choosing to remain as an O'Hannigain instead of changing his name to his mother's maiden name, Dallis wondered if it didn't have something to do with being yelled at or beaten up for not making the choice to change.

Rolling her lips between her teeth and biting down on them, Dallis looked at Trace and wondered if the fact that he'd been beaten up on — or at least she was guessing as much — in his younger years was a motivator for him.

He'd suffered pain, and he didn't want her to suffer it too."

Escape: Day 15

Word Count: 90,008

Summary of Events: 

Trace kept driving after the time when he usually stopped so as to hopefully catch up to the gangsters, and worried that he wouldn't get close enough fast enough. Dallis made her escape at the cost of another truck driver's life and hitched a ride with a trucker who worked for the same company Trace did. Trace got caught in the traffic backup behind the mess Dallis left behind in her escape and recognised the gangsters' cars in the wreckage, leaving him stunned. Dallis used the trucker's radio to get a hold of Trace and told him where she was before finding a place to hide out and wait for him as he started back north again . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

"It'd taken awhile, due to the detour Trace had chosen, for him to get beyond the wreckage — although he was sure it'd still been faster than just taking the I-75 northbound, being as the accident still wasn't fully cleaned up yet.

Now Dallis had told him she was north of Murfreesboro at the Roadman Truck Stop, which was a place Trace had stopped at occasionally, but with the route he'd gotten settled into he didn't usually end up pulling off there unless it was close enough to lunch.

It wasn't a bad place; like all truck stops, it was better than going to a fast food restaurant, and Trace would take truck stop food any day of the week. Fast food was only if he was pressed and it was the first thing he found.

Usually, though, he was able to find a truck stop — and he'd also become familiar with where a lot of them were so he could plan ahead — so he didn't have to stop at fast food restaurants that often.

A large green sign flashed by, announcing in reflective white letters that Murfreesboro was within a mile. He was almost there. He'd almost gotten Dallis back.

It seemed hard to believe, still, that Dallis would've gotten free, and the fact that she would've been able to do it in such an intensely spectacular fashion was rather startling as well — mainly that she would've been able to survive that.

Trace slowed down slightly and followed the signs over the road to find the exit he wanted to take him around the east side of Murfreesboro — which would be the faster way around — back to I-75.

Manoeuvring onto the exit ramp, Trace watched carefully until finally he was onto the ring road and making his way around Murfreesboro.

He checked his clock after he'd merged on fully and saw that it was only seven. If he was going to drive until ten he had another three hours of driving, so he'd probably just pick Dallis up at the truck stop and continue north for another couple of hours likely making it back to Nashville by ten.

Another sixteen hours of driving after that would get him nearly to Sioux Falls, if he wasn't mistaken anyways, and then, hopefully, they would be able to make for the border.

Except there was still the hitch: her passport wasn't ready yet — or at least he was certain of as much, being as he hadn't been called about it like they'd agreed — so if they weren't able to get her passport at Sioux Falls they might end up stuck there again.

Trace sighed. He hoped he'd get the call that Dallis' passport was ready and waiting at Sioux Falls in the next day of driving. He didn't want to be stopped up at Sioux Falls again, even though he couldn't guarantee that the gangsters would be after them again."

Escape: Day 14

Word Count: 84,009

Summary of Events:

Dallis came to shortly before the gangsters pulled into a motel for the night and nearly managed to escape them — she did succeed in causing a message to be planted for Trace, though. Trace stopped at his favourite restaurant again for food and received the message, which confirmed what he'd assumed and made him feel a lot better. Dallis plotted escape as the gangsters continued south. Trace chafed at his slow progress and considered doing whatever it took to go faster. Dallis — once again tied to the bed for the night to prevent escape — put into action the first part of her escape plan . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

"She'd noticed that they didn't loop the ropes around the posts repeatedly, they just left loops and securely tied the ropes to the gaps they had between her ankles and wrists.

Having noticed that, she'd kept her elbows slightly bent so that they'd have to use more rope to make things taut at her feet.

It'd been somewhat hard keeping her elbows bent for so long, but now she released them and lifted her hands over her head with ease.

Being as the restrained position of her hands compromised her, though, she had to use her lower body to shift herself closer to the foot post and loosen her feet, but that was done easily.

To get off of the bed would have to be a delicate manoeuvre as well, as she didn't want to fall, lest they be woken up by the thud of her body hitting the floor.

She carefully rolled over onto her side and then shifted her upper body toward the edge, leading with her hands until they touched the floor. Then she carefully managed to lower the rest of her body to the floor with the quietest of thuds.

It took her a little bit to orient herself, but soon she was certain which way Otie's clothes were, and she soon found some fabric.

Quickly she identified it as a shirt. She wanted his pants.

Thankfully, they were close by; but disappointment soon filled her when she found that his gun wasn't among them. He was either still wearing his gun, or he'd put it somewhere else and she hadn't seen it because she'd not looked at him while he was undressing.

She did feel a solid lump in his pocket, however, and discovered it was a jackknife: something to cut her bonds with. Good.

A groan sounded and she almost dropped the knife.

"Where's my little puss-puss?" Otie moaned sleepily.

He snorted sharply.

"Gone!" he hissed. "Jay!"

Another groan sounded. Dallis quickly shoved the knife into her pocket; she wouldn't be able to use it now, mainly being as it was dark.

"She's gone!" Otie snapped.

"What!?" Jay cried.

Lights snapped on and Dallis looked over her shoulder to see the two men upright in their beds, both looking at her, their chests bare, Otie's obviously darkened by ink, Jay's not so much — although skin colour contributed to that more than anything.

"So," Otie said, sliding across his bed and getting to his feet. "You were going to try and run away?"

Dallis looked away from him as he walked over to her, grabbed her under the arms, and hauled her back to the bed. She wouldn't fight. She had a means of escape in her pocket, and she was using it tomorrow."