The bird flaps its wings to reach the heightneeded to glide easily with the wind.

Dillon rubbed the aching bump on the side of his head, then he triedto sit up. His head banged the inside of the trunk with a sharp thud.

"Shit!"

Conscious enough to be aware that he was in an enclosed space,Dillon opened his hazel eyes to the darkness of the trunk. Feelingthe vibration from the car as well as the frequent bumps as the tiresrolled over rough terrain, he moved his left arm to touch the interiorwalls. Breathing the exhaust fumes and dust into his lungs, Dilloncoughed, then he wrinkled his nose in distaste.

Dillon's mind raced with thoughts. "Don't panic. Stay calm.Think! How can I get out of here?"

Feeling for a release mechanism along the back edge of thetrunk, Dillon scratched the tip of his finger on a sharp piece of metal.His eyes squeezed shut as the pain radiated up his finger while blooddripped onto the gray carpet covering the floor of the space. Dillonpressed his injured finger against his tongue to stop the oozing bloodas a low moan escaped his throat.

Dillon squirmed his body around to face the back seats of thecar. Muffled music could be heard over the constant rumbling insidethe trunk. The edge of the gray carpet ripped as he pulled it awayfrom the seats. Smooth, cool metal felt good against the skin of hishands. Dillon's body flew into the air and landed hard as the vehiclebounced along the dirt road. Air in his lungs exhaled as the painfrom the jolt radiated along his right ribcage.

Both hands pushed hard against the back of the seats as he triedto pry an opening. Nothing happened. Dillon used his elbows andknees to squirm closer to the corner. Shoving his left hand into thecrevice between the seat and the side panel, he slid it up and downsearching for a handle to move the seat forward. His fingers toucheda metal bolt that fastened the seat to the frame of the car.

Damn! What else? What else?

Grabbing the carpet edge, he pulled it to expose the metal coverover the spare tire. Adjusting his body around the opening, Dillontwisted the latch and pulled the cover to the side. Reaching insidethe space, he pulled out the jack and the crank. Breathing heavily,he twisted his body so that he could place the jack upright near therear trunk latch. A sharp pain moved down his shoulder as he triedto insert the crank over the knob on the jack. Bouncing roughly,Dillon placed his hand on the lid of the trunk to stabilize himself.Licking his dry lips, he positioned the crank onto the jack. The crankpulled up and down easily until the jack touched the lid of the trunk.Dillon took a deep breath, then slowly released the air in his lungsas he pulled down on the metal crank. His muscles strained as hecontinued moving the handle in uneven, short bursts until he heardthe click as the trunk popped open.

Adrenaline pumped through his aching muscles as Dillongrabbed the outside edge of the trunk and hoisted his body out ofthe trunk and into the wall of dust billowing behind the vehicle.Keeping his arms and legs near his torso, his body collided againstthe dirt roadway and flipped over as the momentum pushed himin a rotating motion. Coughing dust and exhaust fumes out of hislungs and throat, Dillon blinked dirt out of his eyes while orientinghimself to his surroundings. Sitting up, he saw through the dustyhaze the outline of cactus and shrubbery on each side of the dirtroad. As he watched the brake lights glow through the dust, Dillonstood up and ran toward the desert. Thorny branches scratched hisface and arms as he raced through the moonlit landscape.

As two figures climbed out of the dark vehicle, the drivershouted, "Get him!"

The passenger raced toward Dillon as the driver stood on theframe of the car by the driver's seat, aiming a revolver over the roof.Bang! Dillon felt a burning pain in his left shoulder, causing him tostumble forward before he caught his balance. Dodging back andforth across the rough desert terrain, he felt moisture on his backand chest from the wound.

Pumping his right arm to increase momentum, while his leftarm dangled at his side, Dillon focused his attention on placing hisfeet as quickly and carefully as possible to ensure he didn't trip.

The slender passenger and the stout driver chased the escapeethrough the creosote bushes and around the Palo Verde trees.Following Dillon across a rocky wash, the driver stepped betweentwo boulders, trapping his foot. The weight of his stocky bodymoving forward created enough pressure to snap his shin bone.Screaming in agony, he collapsed onto the rocks that covered thefloor of the wash. The other figure stopped, looking back at the manon the ground and then toward the teenager racing away. Scratchinghis head, he took a step toward the fleeing boy, then he turned andtrotted back to the driver.

The sharp edges of bone protruded from the leg of the writhingman. He grabbed his leg and rocked in anguish as he looked up,"Take the gun! Get him, or the boss will kill us!"

Nodding his head, the passenger grabbed the gun from theinjured man before he turned to follow Dillon.

Dillon felt a throbbing pain in his chest and shoulder as eachfoot contacted the ground. Touching the front of his shirt with hisright hand, he tried to apply pressure to the gushing wound.

I've got to hide somewhere. If I keep running, the blood will keepflowing.

He glanced back to check where his pursuers might be and feltrelief that they weren't in sight. Running parallel to the canyonwall, Dillon hunted for a safe place to stop. Several mesquite treesgrew near the base of the cliff. Diving underneath the branches thatbowed along the edge of the canopy, Dillon crawled using his rightarm and knees to reach the gnarled trunk. Squirming his bodyaround so he could watch for the men chasing him, he lay flat on thepile of dead leaves and branches. Feeling light headed from the loss ofblood, Dillon breathed heavily as he rested his head on the ground.

Oh my God! What am I going to do? How in the hell did thishappen? I went to meet Scratch to give him the money from the last deal.I told him that I'm done. That I wanted out. Then everything went blackuntil I woke up in the trunk.

Dillon watched and listened for any movement around the tree,while he pressed his right hand against the wound by his collarbone.Moist blood flowed around his fingers and dripped down his arm.

"Damn!" Dillon whispered as he acknowledged the severity ofhis wound. Tears formed in his eyes as he sniffed his nose. "I don'twant to die."

Not hearing any movement, Dillon debated. Should I takepressure off the wound to get my phone?

He closed his eyes to focus his energy on listening for the peoplechasing him. Catching himself losing consciousness, he shook hishead and blinked several times. Leaning the front of his shoulderagainst the tree litter on the ground, Dillon moved his right handto pull his cell phone out of his pocket as he thought, "I know who'safter me!"

The light from the display glowed brightly against his pale faceas the trembling hand opened the contacts. Selecting Suzette, henoticed dark, red blood oozing onto the phone from his hand beforethe message, Out of service area, appeared.

No!

Dillon's body felt heavy. It took extreme effort to hold his headup as his mind became foggy. Each breath became shallower ashis energy dissipated. Placing the glowing screen face down on theground, he...