A Will and a Way

range.”
    Pandora sputtered as she wiped at the snow. Because she’d appreciated the move, it was difficult to sound indignant. “One would have thought that a man who drives an ostentatious car would be more particular with it.”
    “It’s only ostentatious if you buy it for status purposes.”
    “And, of course, you didn’t.”
    “I bought it because it gets terrific gas mileage.” When she snorted, he turned to grin at her. “And because it looks great wrapped around redheads.”
    “And blondes and brunettes.”
    “Redheads,” he corrected, twining her hair around his finger. “I’ve developed a preference.”
    It shouldn’t have made her smile, but it did. She was still smiling when they started down the long, curvy road. “We can’t complain about the road crews,” she said idly. “Except for those two weeks last month, the roads’ve been fairly clear.” She glanced toward the mounds of snow the plows had pushed to the side of the road.
    “Too bad they won’t do the driveway.”
    “You know you loved riding that little tractor. Uncle Jolley always said it made him feel tough and macho.”
    “So much so he’d race it like a madman over the yard.”
    As they came to a curve, Michael eased on the brake and downshifted. Pandora leaned forward and fiddled with the stereo. “Most people have equipment like this in their den.”
    “I don’t have a den.”
    “You don’t have a stereo to put in one, either,” she remembered. “Or a television.”
    He shrugged, but mentally listed what he’d lost from his apartment. “Insurance’ll cover it.”
    “The police are handling that as though it were a normal break-in.” She switched channels. “It might’ve been.”
    “Or it might’ve been a smoke screen. I wish we—” He broke off as they approached another curve. He’d pressed the brake again, but this time, the pedal had gone uselessly to the floor.
    “Michael, if you’re trying to impress me with your skill as a driver, it’s not working.” Instinctively Pandora grabbed the door handle as the car careered down the curve.
    Whipping the steering wheel with one hand, Michael yanked on the emergency brake. The car continued to barrel down. He gripped the wheel in both hands and fought the next curve. “No brakes.” As he told her, Michael glanced down to see the speedometer hover at seventy.
    Pandora’s knuckles turned white on the handle. “We won’t make it to the bottom without them.”
    He never considered lying. “No.” Tires squealed as he rounded the next curve. Gravel spit under the wheels as the car went wide. There was the scrape and scream of metal as the fender kissed the guardrail.
    She looked at the winding road spinning in front of her. Her vision blurred then cleared. The sign before the S-turn cautioned for a safe speed of thirty. Michael took it at seventy-five. Pandora shut her eyes. When she opened them and saw the snowbank dead ahead, she screamed. With seconds to spare, Michael yanked the car around. Snow flew skyward as the car skidded along the bank.
    Eyes intense, Michael stared at the road ahead and struggled to anticipate each curve. Sweat beaded on his forehead. He knew the road, that’s what terrified him. In less than three miles, the already sharp incline steepened. At high speed, the car would ram straight through the guardrail and crash on the cliffs below. The game Jolley had begun would end violently.
    Michael tasted his own fear, then swallowed it. “There’s only one chance; we’ve got to turn off on the lane leading into the old inn. It’s coming up after that curve.” He couldn’t take his eyes from the road to look at her. His fingers dug into the wheel. “Hang on.”
    She was going to die. Her mind was numb from the thought of it. She heard the tires scream as Michael dragged at the wheel. The car tilted, nearly going over. She saw trees rush by as the car slid on the slippery edge of the lane. Almost, for an instant, the rubber seemed to grip the gravel beneath. But the turn was too sharp, the speed too fast. Out of control, the car spiraled toward the trees.
    “I love you,” she whispered, and grabbed for him before the world went black.
    He came to slowly. He hurt, and for a time didn’t understand why. There was noise. Eventually he turned his head toward it. When he opened his eyes, Michael saw a boy with wide eyes and black hair gawking through the window.
    “Mister, hey, mister. You okay?”
    Dazed, Michael