Free Seven Days To Brooklyn: A Sara Robinson Adventure by Christopher Westley

process, giving the bike a bit more gas before easing out on the clutch. The bike jumps forward and up the road to Ava and Sara, who have already made it to the outskirts of town, where they are waiting for him to catch up. Mac glides up and slams on the front brake, driving the handlebars into the forks before the bike comes to a stop.
    “See, no problem, got the hang of it already.” This makes Sara and Ava giggle.
    “Okay, Sara, where to?” Ava asks.  
    Sara pulls out a small notebook and thumbs through the pages to a map. Tracing the handwritten road lines with her finger, she reads out loud. North to Highway Two Ninety, about seven miles from here, then east till we hit Interstate Ten. From there, we will be on track till we get to Highway Two Eighty-Five.”
    Ava starts the bike with one swift kick and revs up the engine. Slowly easing out the clutch, they roll forward and through the gate, past the guards who are wielding a pair of AK 47s. Mac is close behind as they roll out of town to Highway 290. Minutes later, the trio are rumbling down the two-lane highway, the purr of vintage British engineering clicking away under their crotches. The miles turn into hours while Sara goes into and out of sleep, comfortably bundled up in the sidecar and oblivious of her surroundings. The two-lane highway is traded for the large interstate as the trio continues its journey westward.  

    Two hours later

    “I need to pull over,” Mac yells above the wind noise at Ava.
    “Why?”  
    “It’s kind of personal. You know, call of nature.”  
    She looks back over at him, shaking her head. “Okay, okay, let’s find a spot to pull off.”  
    She can tell he is not kidding by the expression on his face. The two scan the highway for a wide spot that is suitable for Ava’s bike and sidecar but cannot find a decent spot. Riding along a few more minutes, Mac spots a sign. Pointing, he motions to Ava to follow him. Mac speeds up and takes the lead, looking for the exit for the previous sign. Off in the distance, he sees the exit sign: Rest Area 1 Mile.  
    Gunning the bike, he speeds way ahead of Ava and pulls off the highway into the vacant rest area. Ava pulls in a minute later next to the abandoned bike. Looking around, she cannot spot him and wonders if he is inside the small, block building just in front of them. Large cacti line the sidewalks in front of them, followed by a conveniently placed sign between two cacti:  

    Warning: Rattlesnakes Stay on the Path.

    “Where are we?” Sara has just woken up from a deep sleep.  
    Looking over at her in the sidecar, Ava notices a softer side to this pint-sized assassin. “Not sure. We just pulled over to take a pit stop.”  
    A loud crash comes from inside the building, followed by Mac shoving the men’s room door open and frantically running toward them. “We got to go now!” he shouts at the top of his lungs, still pulling his pants.
    Ava and Sara look at each other in bewilderment but decide whatever is coming after him will not be pleasant. Sara pulls the pistol out from under the blanket and prepares herself for imminent battle. Standing up on the kick-starter, Ava thrusts her body weight down, and the motor roars to life, settling into the familiar low rumble. By this time, Mac has run all the way to his bike and is starting it, when his assailant appears through the half-opened door of the bathroom. Hysterical now, half laughing, half crying, Sara looks over at Mac and yells, “That’s it? The monster has made an appearance, and the weeny runs like a schoolgirl. A little possum scared you?”
    “How was I supposed to know what it was? I’m just sitting there minding my own business, you know. In the process of doing the daily deed, when I hear this rustling and low growl coming from the far stall. Figured it was about time to cut things off and get moving before things turned sour.”
    Looking back at the possum, Sara lines up the front and rear site of the