Wisdom Spring by Andrew Cunningham

reprimanded. But it’s not just that. Every time I start to feel a little safe, something happens to bring me back to reality. I don’t know where we’re supposed to go now. I don’t know how much longer I can do this.”
    Once again I pulled over, this time into a strip mall parking lot, and put my arm around her.
    “I don’t know what to tell you, Jess. You’re just going to have to have faith … in me, in The Voice, and mostly, in yourself, that you’re going in the right direction. Right now we’re on the run. At some point that’s going to change. We’re going to go on the offensive. We’re going to find the information to stop Hillstrom. And when we do, we can stop running. But we have to get there first.”
    The tears stopped. She sniffed and blew her nose. “I’m sorry. I’m okay now.”
    “Let’s just see where this road takes us,” I suggested. It was heading up into the mountains. Getting as far from the highway as possible seemed like a good idea to me.
    The rain had stopped and the sun was trying to peek out from the rapidly retreating clouds. However, a dark horizon suggested more bad weather later on. After a few minutes of driving on the new road, we came to sign pointing to the Scenic Alpine Highway to our left.
    “Any gut feeling?” I asked.
    “Nope. It says the Sundance Institute is on that road. Probably pretty beautiful up there. I could use some beautiful views to clear my head. This is amazing country.”
    “Have you ever been out here before?”
    “As a kid, I seem to remember. Most of the traveling I did with my parents was overseas. As an adult, I’ve done very little traveling. Mostly the New York to Washington corridor, and a few trips to Florida with friends.”
    “Well, you’re going to see a lot of beautiful country from here on.”
    “Wish I could appreciate it. Hard to when you don’t know if you are in someone’s cross-hairs.” She shook her head, as if to erase the thought.
    We stopped briefly in Sundance to pick up some food, the bagels no longer appetizing and the coffee long since cold. We drove to the first scenic overlook we found and sat in silence while we ate, taking in the view. There were a couple of other cars parked there, so as much as we would have liked to stretch our legs, we didn’t get out. When we were finished eating, we continued on our way. The road was surprisingly empty of traffic, probably from the earlier rain and the threat of more.
    After about ten minutes, the view was no longer of concern to me. I was looking in the rearview mirror, concentrating on something else.
    “Jess, where did we put the bag with the money and my gun?”
    “We threw all the bags in the trunk at the hotel, why?”
    “There’s a scenic overlook coming up in a second. I’m going to hop out and grab the bag.”
    “What’s wrong?”
    “There’s a car behind us that doesn’t feel right to me.”
    She turned and looked. “Where?”
    “You can’t see it right now. It’s around one of the turns, about a half mile in back of us. The problem is, it’s been about a half mile behind since we got on this road. It was behind us when we stopped to buy the food, then again when we stopped to eat, and now it’s back there again, always the same distance.”
    “Police?”
    “I don’t think so. It’s a tan SUV. If it was police, I think they would have stopped us by now. If it’s someone else, maybe they’re waiting to catch us alone.” We pulled into the overlook. The only other car was just leaving, so we had it to ourselves. “I say, let’s stay right here and see what happens. If it is the police, they’re going to catch us anyway. If they’re from Hillstrom, we may as well find out now.”
    I jumped out, pulled the bag from the trunk, and quickly got back into the car. I took out the gun and set it on my lap. I always kept a round in the chamber, so when the time came, I would cock the hammer and be ready. I was trying to act like the protector,