Whirlwind 01 – Finish Line – Pt. 02 by QuantumMechanic1957

Marie pitched her voice low and quiet, so Ariana reflexively leaned closer to hear. “Ya know tis no a good idea ta get too friendly wit a fan wit that much emotional connection to ya. Ya listen to tha story, and tell em you are so glad you were able ta help, and maybe git em to buy a CD so ya kin autograph it special for em, an then ya STAY AWAY. Don encourage em. Those kind o fans can be trouble.”

Ariana goggled at her. The thought of Nathan being a… a… threat, after all they had been through together, and certainly after all the opportunity he had had nearly round the clock for almost three weeks, was a thought that just wouldn’t go down; like a garden snake trying to swallow an elephant. The person most likely to throw himself on a grenade to save her, and the person least likely to ever demand anything from her, were the same person as far as she was concerned. Except for that moment-of-weakness kiss, he had been a perfect gentleman. Her temper flaring uncontrollably, like a civilization-ending volcanic eruption, she spit out, “Don ya go suspectin Nathan o bein anythin o the sort; don ya dare!”

The tiniest twitch of Marie’s lip was like the triumphant smirk of a police detective on the verge of getting a signed confession. “An I suppose there will be an e-mail waitin for ya when ya get back on the bus?”

“I wouldna be surprised. Why does it matter?”

“An what might it say?”

“He’ll send he hopes I am doin well, what has happened on the forum lately, how he is doin, an,…,” she stopped with the wrench of stepping from an steamy Swedish sauna into an icy fjord.

Marie’s raised eyebrow was all the question she needed.

She desperately wanted to be rescued by an autograph request, the bus driver’s impatiently hooted horn, a sudden downpour, anything, but they were alone and the night was as quiet as the idling buses would let it be. And she couldn’t lie to Marie, and she couldn’t think of anything else, so she blurted out, “An the latest chapter o a book he is writin, fer me opinion, should I care ta give it.”

“Really? And what might tha book be aboot?”

She couldn’t say it was about the race, she couldn’t, for Marie was clever and smart and could put two and two together faster than anyone she ever met. “Tha would be tellin. I promised not ta discuss it til he’s ready ta publish.” And she knew he would never try to publish it without her approval. Another wave of panic battered her; she hadn’t actually read any of the chapters, and suddenly wondered what he had written. At this moment, fate finally relented, and the bus driver sounded the horn as a not-so-quiet reminder that there was a schedule to keep. Relief was sweeter than honey and cooler than grassy shade, and she made a dash for the door with Marie close behind her.

The door closed and the ponderous vehicle lumbered into motion. Cassie and Linnae were sprawled in chairs and drinking hot tea and cold smoothies to ease the vocal cords they had all so vigorously exercised for more than two hours. Ariana felt cornered. She didn’t have a good excuse to huddle in her privacy bunk. Lavender was no doubt in the small rest room. What was she to do about…

“So ya really seemed to enjoy the makin o’ those cakes on this episode,” Cassie observed.

Ariana leapt on the remark as a hungry cat would pounce on a blind mouse. “Aye, it were fun ta do some cookin. They were quite like the boxty cakes back home. I think I could probably make some right noo.” The words tumbled out and she barreled through the small lounge to the even smaller kitchen nook on the far side. The rules were to use nothing but the microwave and coffee maker while in motion, but she could have cared less. She started pulling small items out of cabinets and setting their magnetic bases on the metal counter with sturdy clicks. “O’ course I had ta answer a riddle ta get each ingredient, and Nathan could no talk, those were the rules. But we did right well; in fact,…”

Marie and Cassie and Linnae saw Ariana pour milk into a cup and then hold the cup out to her side as she slid a bowl across the cramped counter with her other hand… and let the glass go. Mindful of gravity, the cup had plunged to the floor and sent a perfect geyser of milk up in a spirited attempt to spatter the ceiling. Ariana stared at the cup as it rolled slowly in a circle on the floor, trembling slightly with the motion of the bus. Her friends stared at her. Finally Ariana snatched up a towel and began to mop at the mess, her face a splotchy patchwork of embarrassment and consternation. Finally Marie walked over and took the towel from her. “Here. Let me get that. Yer tired an upset. Hae a lie down. We’ll call ya when we microwave supper.”

Ariana ducked her head and went back to her cubby and flipped down the thick door.

“What was that all aboot?” Cassie asked.

Ariana sat in her bunk in the dark and hugged herself tightly. For just a minute she had been back in the race and happy and excited and really focused on a challenge she knew she could do well – and it had been inconceivable that Nathan wouldn’t be there to hold the cup for her.

She took her phone from its drawer and stared at it. Nathan’s number was 37. She was tempted to push it now and talk to him about… anything. If just to hear his voice; his reassuring, understanding, accepting, encouraging voice. Instead, she opened her e-mail. There was another e-mail from Nathan labeled ‘Fan Forum Business.’ Instead of opening it, she opened the archive folder of Nathan’s e-mails, and selected the attached file labeled ‘Chapter One.’ It opened on the screen, and Nathan spoke to her.

By morning she had read every chapter, and fell asleep during sound checks at the venue.

[The Japanese pop star and her sister were the last to arrive and were eliminated]

CHAPTER 8 [Sixth Leg (Australia to Taiwan) — Seven teams remaining]

Most of the troupe, except for a few of the more serious drinkers, crowded around the large flat screen TV. Once again, almost to her annoyance, Ariana got pride of place, front row, center. As Aden picked over the controls of the DVR, he fended off random calls from the troupe offering more and more outrageous bribes to reveal how Ariana and Nathan had done. As the theme music came up, and the announcer summarized the team status… Ariana drifted off… remembering…

They had been first off, she had been driving and Nathan navigating from the back seat. Michael, their videographer, recorded silently as usual, from the passenger seat. They only had a fifteen minute lead, and the last team would only be an hour behind them. “What are the directions again?”

Nathan had the directions instantly to hand. “Proceed to the international airport, catch Flight 3407 to Taipei, Find your next clue outside the airport’s meditation room after you complete a task to the Bhuddist monk’s satisfaction.” Nathan glanced up. “The airport exit should be about a mile ahead.”

“I see it.”

She had been angling for the exit ramp when an 18-wheeler had hurtled by on her right, and, then, just ahead of her, one of the truck tires had exploded, sending smoldering streamers of black careening across the road. The car filled with the stink of burning rubber. Jerking the car wildly, she missed the worst of the debris, and was just about to angle over to the right behind the truck, when a car coming up fast jammed on its brakes, skidded across the road and smashed into the car next to her. She dodged it all, and darted to the right, desperate to get to the exit and away from this unfolding disaster – only to realize that the airport exit was a LEFT hand exit. They rocketed past the exit on the wrong side of the road, still jockeying with a pack of disturbed cars for safe spots.

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