THE FOUR LANE

After they had ridden for about ten minutes, Beverly saw the sign for the Griffin exit. Since there was no windscreen on the bike, it was very hard to hear. She cupped her hands together like a megaphone and shouted, as loudly as she could, to remind Bear that this was her exit. She knew something was terribly wrong when he cranked back on the throttle, sped up to ninety miles per hour and blew right past exit 67. Beverly was really scared now. How do you get off of a speeding motorcycle? She figured the only thing she could do was wait until they stopped and then try to get away from them. Every now and then, she could feel small road debris striking her unprotected hands. She alternated putting each hand into the pockets of the jacket for some temporary relief. When she slid her right hand into her brother’s jacket, she felt something hard. Wrapping her hand around the object, she realized it was Mike’s penknife! She wasn’t sure what she could do with it or when she might have the chance, but if it became necessary, she was going to put up a fight. She had just left one abusive situation and she would not allow herself to be abused, in god knows what way, by these jerks. If they tried anything with her she would make them sorry. As they got on the beltway that looped around Atlanta, she tried one more time to tell Bear to let her off. He just turned his head back to her, shook his head “No” and smiled. Beverly gripped the penknife tightly and wondered if there was anyway that she could attract someone’s attention. But, she thought to herself, “Who’s going to get involved with a girl in a black leather jacket sitting behind this big piece of shit, with all his asshole buddies around?” When the motorcycle gang sped off the beltway and once more headed north on I-75, Bev knew she was still heading toward Rome. If only she could get away, before they got to Rome, she could call her cousin and have her come and get her. But, how could she get away if they didn’t stop? Then she saw a sign announcing “Welcome to Marietta, Population 3,500.” Under that sign was one that said, “SPEED LIMIT 40mph – Slow Down and Live”. Bear stuck his hand down, with the palm facing backward to let the other bikers know he wanted them to slow down. He certainly didn’t want to get locked up for speeding, in this little hick town, especially with this girl and all the goodies from the Citgo station. Beverly thought, “This might be my only chance. Once he speeds up again, it might be too late.” She stuck her fingernail into the larger blade of the two and slowly worked the knife open. She pulled the knife out and screamed for Bear to let her off the bike. When he just laughed at her, she stuck the knife, as hard as she could, into the meaty part of his thigh. Bear pushed the brake pedal and squeezed the brake grip on the handlebar and the bike slid into a darkened parking lot. He didn’t seem to be phased by the wound at all. Beverly threw her leg over the seat, jumped off the bike and started to run as fast as she could. She slipped and fell on the gravel of the parking lot. She looked up and found herself looking into the headlights of the other three bikes.