UNDER THE MULBERRY TREE
Margery Harkness Casares
~~**~~
CHAPTER ONE
TENNESSEE:
Darkness caught Fay Ann on the road, and the first twinge of anxiety
gripped her. She should have been in Waterford thirty minutes ago. Glancing
at her watch, she wondered why she had thought she'd save time by taking this
back road. She braked and slowed, hoping to read a sign coming up.
The sign receded into the night, and with a disquieting sense of dismay
she clutched the steering wheel. What had the sign said? Bitter Creek?
Pop. 67? Someone had added in red paint, ?and Joe Bob'.
Omigod! Where was she? Lost, that's where! Humidity plastered a
mottled gray film of road grime on the windshield. Fay Ann turned on the wipers.
Thin streams of water smudged the glass even more. Peering out at the ribbon
of ashpalt--a black tunnel stretching away into infinity--lit only by the twin beams
of her headlights, she turned the wipers off wishing it would rain.
Fay Ann unbuttoned several buttons of her silk blouse that stuck damply
to her, closed the window and hit the air-conditioner switch. Cool circulating air
blew a wayward strand of hair against her cheek. Pushing the damp curl behind
her ear, she glanced at the gas gauge.
A low fuel warning glowed. The needle hovered just below the quarter
mark. Her throat tightened. She breathed a silent prayer that she would come to
civilization before she ran out of gas.
Poor visibility forced her to keep her attention on the narrow thread of
highway. A dark outline of trees and foliage closed the car in on both sides. She
shuddered, feeling as though she were completely alone in a dark, deserted world.
Just as she decided no one else used the back road, two bright lights appeared
in the distance.
Fay Ann sighed her relief. The truck coming toward her slowed when
it passed. Several male figures dimly visible inside the cab peered at her as
they went by. Her relief turned into a vague apprehension. Glancing into the
rear-view mirror, she gasped.
The truck had stopped. It made a U-turn and headed back in her
direction. The pickup passed too close, almost running her off the road; then
it slowed, stopped and idled. Her car zipped by, and her fear mushroomed into
panic.
She bit her lip. What were they doing? What did they want? She refused to
acknowledge the most likely answer. Why hadn't she listened to Jake and ordered
the car phone installed as he'd suggested? This was a heck of a time for hindsight.
She'd truly thought her cell phone was all she'd need, and it would've been if
she could remember to put it in her purse. A lot of good it did her, now, at
home on the dining room table!
Tires squealed as the truck sped back onto the road and fell in behind
her again. Fay Ann thrust her foot hard on the accelerator, sucking air into
her tight lungs. She gripped the wheel and concentrated on keeping the car
on the roadway.
The truck came up fast, too close to the back of the Lincoln. "Oh,
God," she shouted. "Back off, damn you." Fay Ann tapped the brake pedal,
causing the car to jerk spasmodically. "Get off my bumper, you morons!"
Scared to the point of recklessness, she stomped the brake, abruptly slowing the big
car, hoping to make the truck fall back. The pickup slammed into the rear of the
Lincoln, hurling her into the steering wheel.
Tasting blood, she ran her tongue over her injured lip. Fighting to control
the now careening vehicle, Fay Ann allowed the Lincoln to run off onto the
shoulder of the narrow road. The car hit a pot hole, and the steering wheel
jerked free from her grasp, breaking a fingernail. She managed to stop the car
but trembled too violently to continue driving.
She sucked on the finger. She now had two injuries--a split lip and a
throbbing finger. Tears rimmed her eyes. Her heart hammered against her
rib cage. "Calm down, Fay Ann," she said aloud, the sound of her voice
somewhat comforting. "Calm down and think what to do."
Clicking the lock mechanism hard and fast, she locked and unlocked
the doors several times before she calmed enough to get them locked. She
remembered the can of pepper spray, grabbed her purse and removed it.
Sure, Fay Ann, go ahead, douse them with pepper spray and make
them really mad. Oh, Lord! She hoped all they wanted was to car-jack her.
The truck had stopped also, but no one got out. Its headlights blinded
her. She wrapped her arms about her body, trying to still the dread crawling
through her. Swallowing hard past the knot in her throat, she sat very still,
afraid to get back on the road and possibly be forced into a ditch or ravine.
A simultaneous rapping at the windows on both sides of the car
startled Fay Ann. She screamed and instinctively recoiled, dropping the
pepper spray. The can rolled away. She groped with trembling hands to
turn off the dash lights. Indistinct figures appeared at each window.
Crouching down, Fay Ann felt in the dark for the pepper spray. Her
fingers touched it and closed around it.
The sudden roar of the truck speeding off, fractured the silence of the
night, and told her the men no longer stood at the windows. Fay Ann slumped
in the seat and gave in to her tears. Her taut nerves slowly began to unwind.
She had no idea why the men had suddenly left, but she knew she had
to get moving, even though her hands still shook so hard she could barely hold
on to the steering wheel. She guided the Lincoln back onto the road, hoping
to get to a safe place where someone could be trusted to give her directions to
Waterford.
What was the name of that godforsaken spot on the sign she'd passed?
Bitter Creek? She wouldn't stop there, that was for sure. Those guys were probably
Bitter Creek guys. Maybe one of them was even Joe Bob.
She hoped she was still in Tennessee. What had she done to herself,
getting off the Interstate onto a backwoods road? All she'd wanted was to meet
Jake. She'd promised him she would be in Waterford by eight o'clock--promised
nothing would keep her from meeting him this time.
Fay Ann wiped away beads of cold sweat from her brow. She had
really believed this back road to be a shortcut Jake had once shown her.
Slapping her hands on the steering wheel, she muttered, "Yeah, Fay Ann,
some shortcut!"
She drove as fast as she dared, her mind almost as numb as her swollen
lip. Jake would be angry, and she couldn't blame him. If she failed to keep this
date, it would be the fourth time she'd broken a date with him.
As she came out of a curve, a dark shape looming ahead startled her.
Alarm slashed through her like the blade of a knife. Omigod, the truck again!
Fay Ann stomped the brake and veered off the asphalt. Hitting a
stretch of shoulder littered with rocks, the Lincoln went into a spin. Fay Ann
clutched the wheel as her car went over on its side. It skidded along the roadbed.
Screeching, metal scraped and grated, piercing her ears. A thunderous crash
told her the car had slammed into the tree rushing to meet it.
The impact hurled the twisted vehicle back onto the asphalt, upright,
facing the opposite direction. It happened so fast; yet everything seemed to be
absorbed into her brain in slow motion. Fay Ann remained conscious but
confused as to what had happened. Realizing the car wasn't moving, she
whispered, "Jake, I don't think I'll make it tonight."
She tried to restart the Lincoln but no sound came from the motor.
Soon realizing she'd had an accident, and the car wasn't going anywhere, she
tugged at her seat belt, wondering why the air bag hadn't inflated. Her next
fleeting thought was that the Lincoln had been too low on fuel to outrun the
truck anyway.
She swallowed hard to rid herself of the nausea clutching at her
stomach and kept her attention on the truck. It backed and turned toward her.
Its bright beams came on.
Fay Ann leaned her head against the mangled door which had sprung
open. Outrage and anger slowly overcame her fear, stripping her of caution
and reason. She would not sit meekly by and wait to be raped or killed.
Half-falling out of the car, she caught her balance and straightened,
holding the can of pepper spray firmly in her fist. Drawing in a shuddering
breath, fighting the swirling darkness which threatened, she muttered weakly,
"Come on, damn you. Come on."
In a sort of trance, she watched blood drip down the fingers holding
the spray can. That's my blood, she thought in confusion, but she felt no pain.
Fay Ann's heart suddenly seemed to stop its beating. Her knees buckled.
The black surface of the asphalt rose up to meet her.
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