"Fine." Max was livid, but Roden had been his psychiatrist long enough, and he knew when to listen to him. It took him a moment to think, for which Roden secretly couldn't blame him. "Manda, you have very good tastes in friends." Inwardly he added, if not in boyfriends.

"OK, I guess that'll work. Now you, Manda."

Manda glared, over-the-top of course, and spit out, "I don't think so. I'm not playing into your psycho-babble couples therapy crap."

"Manda," Roden spoke down to her like she was a petulant child that needed correcting. "You need to play along. We have to be a team now if we want to work together to rescue your friend."

Manda rolled her eyes and threw her hands up in the air, but complied. "Fine. Max, . . ." she was obviously struggling, "you're . . . good at swinging a tire iron."

"Oh jeez." Now Roden rolled his eyes. "That's the best you can come up with?"

"Well, given the short notice . . ." Manda stopped speaking when Max suddenly stopped walking. They were now very close to the car, and the younger man noticed something odd. Roden looked in the same direction.

The back passenger side tire appeared to be flat. Max walked forward, and bent down for a closer look. Roden followed. A large puncture in the wall of the tire indicated the reason for the deflation. "Damn it. When Martin shot at me, the bullet hit the car. Apparently, it must have struck the tire." Now what were they going to do?

CHAPTER NINETEEN

"Oh, great." Manda supplied Roden and Max with more of her useless commentary. "This just keeps going from bad to worse."

"Thank you, Manda." Roden blocked her pessimism, and decided not to let it faze him yet. Turning his attention to Max, he asked, "You have a spare, don't you?"

Max looked at him, wretched with realization. "No. I lent it to you about a year ago. Remember? When you had that tie rod problem that caused your front tire to bald, and you had that big repair? We never did get around to getting the spare back in my trunk."

"Ah, crap." Cutting Manda off before she could start her next tirade, Roden redirected all the blame to himself, "Well, Max, your intentions were good anyway. Looks like I dropped the ball on that one. Sorry." Now Roden felt wretched; and he braced himself against Manda's remarks on the subject.

And they came.

"Yeah, well his good intentions and your brilliant follow through aren't going to get us out of here or save Ess from the other crazy kidnapper, now is it? So, get thinking, you two geniuses. We need a plan. We've got to think about a way to get going." Well, not quite as harsh of a berating as Roden had expected. It sounded, even, rather logical for Manda.

"You're right about that." Max said, also surprised at Manda's sudden practicality. "We do, in fact, need a way out of here if we are going to do anything for Ess. So, any ideas? Any suggestions?"

"Well, I would say that we could call AAA, but our phones don't seem to work in the middle of Nowheresville!" And there it was. Manda's sarcasm returned as persistent and thick as ever. Any vaguely positive impression Max started to have of her good sense had gone away.

"That's true," he answered back with very little enthusiasm for her attitude, "But maybe we can start walking for the entrance. We're sure to pick up a signal as we get closer to the highway. Or maybe we'll get lucky and run into a park ranger."

"Oh, great idea. And do you also play the lottery with that luck?" Manda continued her poorly exhibited derision.

"Oh, so you have a better plan, then." Max cocked his eyebrow. "Alright. Let's hear it." When Manda didn't answer for lack of anything better, Max turned and started down the road. Roden followed his friend, sure that it was the best course of action at the moment, while an incessantly aggravated Manda grumbled and tagged along behind him.

While they carried on down the path, Manda and Max continued to quarrel back and forth. Roden had never had children, though he had thought on the idea and regretted the missed opportunity from time to time. Now, however, with the company he presently kept, the prospect of parenthood seemed less than thrilling. His current companions, with their bickering that resembled something akin to sibling rivalry, made him realize why the popular line of fathers everywhere was 'don't make me turn this car around.' Unfortunately, he didn't have that option to threaten them with at the moment, and they ignored every attempt of his to mediate them.

* * *

After nearly two hours of walking and listening to Manda complain about her swollen and blistered feet, they heard the sound of a motor in the forest. It was far in the distance, but it's droning purr seemed to slowly grow louder.

This approaching vehicle rumbled and sputtered, and the three wanderers in the woods could hear it long before the winding road brought it into view. A mixture of nerves, anxiety and anticipation caused them to argue rather or not they should take cover before the vehicle came into sight. Max contended that if they hid they could decide if it was friend or foe, and flag the driver down if they determined it to be safe. Manda tried to be skeptical about the need to hide at first, but turned out to be easily persuaded by the prospective danger of Angoli's men coming back to 'get rid of' them. Although she still didn't know who he was, at this point, she did believe that the man in charge of kidnapping her friend could be very capable of doing just that.

From behind some brush, they squatted and peered through branches at the oncoming truck. It looked like one of those big old Chevy models from the 1950s, white with a bit of rust about the tire and fender areas. The driver inside had a long white beard and a patch over his eye.

"The man from the gas station." Roden exclaimed. He could recognize that unique individual from anywhere. The man had been kind, even if a little overly voluble, and Roden could think of no reason to fear him.

"You're right." Max agreed. "I think we should flag him down, then." With a nod from Roden, the two men stood up and moved to the middle of the dirt road waving their arms at the approaching vehicle.

The white truck stopped a few yards ahead of them, and the old man leaned out of the window with a pleasantly surprised smile. "Well, hey there."

Roden approached him with a like-wise grin, intent on doing the talking. "Hey yourself – "

"What brings ya here? Out fer a nature stroll? Lovely country, ain't it? Ya really should bring water with ya, though." He gave Manda a glance. "An' the right kind o' shoes. Never know when you could get lost out here. I know I still do on occasion." The man laughed his throaty chuckle, and then continued asking a few more questions.

Roden waited with well-controlled perturbation until the man stopped for breath, then began responding to the questions that he deemed necessary to the situation. "Actually, our car broke down. Has a flat, and we don't have a spare. If you don't mind, do you think you could give us a ride out of here, so that we can call for some help?"

The man laughed again, obviously entertained by the scenario. "Oh, my. Ain't that rich. Haven't heard nothin' so funny in quite awhile. Oh, ho. My apologies, that's just so funny. But, sure, sure. I can give ya a lift. Man, but I have ta tell ya, ya should never come inta a place like this so unprepared."