Ivy

I woke up feeling the urge to puke, which wasn't good considering we were on an open highway. Lucky for me, Marsh and Ivy had gotten a McDonald's family pack with a complimentary paper bag. Throwing the neatly packed salads, chips and chicken onto the seat next to me, I throw up in the paper bag.

"Morning sleeping beauty." Celeste says with a cheery voice.

Boy was she cheerful. Odd.

"Water?" She asks, handing me a bottle.

I graciously grab the water and down it in one go.

"What time is it?" I ask as I eye the chicken next to me.

"I'd say about noon. We should be arriving at our destination in no time."  She responds.

Noon. Well that explains why I can't take my eyes off that chicken. Too late. I grab myself a care package and begin downing the chicken. Celeste throws me a box of Oreos and winks at me through the rearview mirror. Man, what would I do without my best friend? She totally gets me.

"So, any chance you can tell me where we're headed?" I ask, my mouth full of chicken.

"Not ever." Marsh replies, easing the SUV (which he refused to tell me where he got it) along the highway.

"Marsh, come on. I said I was sorry about ditching you yesterday. Can't we move past that and start afresh?" I ask with a goofy grin.

"What you did was both stupid and dangerous. You could have been killed." He says with a serious expression and disapproval flashing in his eyes.

"I know. Geez, can't we stop talking about it already? I'm dying of embarrassment." I reply, throwing the empty package aside.

I immediately tear open the box of Oreos and start munching on the cookies.

"Well, I think it'll be a lot better if you remain in the dark for now. Both of you." He says.

I slouch back onto my seat. I feel useless. I hate feeling useless. I gaze out the window and watch the cars moving all around us. I suddenly feel claustrophobic as I recall our previous car adventure.

"Don't worry. We're okay." Celeste says to me reassuringly.

She had caught my expression through the review mirror. Gosh, was I that much of an open book?

"We need to make a quick gas stop. There should be a gas station up ahead with a 24 hour convenience store." Marsh says. "We need to stock up on supplies. We mustn't draw attention to ourselves so make sure you don't get caught on the surveillance cameras."

He reaches into the bag in between their seats and pulls out a woolen hat and hoodie.

"Cover your identity as much as you can." He says, throwing them to me.

I put on the hat, carefully tucking my red hair into it before putting on the hood. Lucky for us, it was a little windy hence we won't look ridiculous and suspicious in these outfits.

We drove for another thirty minutes before we drove up to the gas station. He pulled the car to the tank and, fumbling with his bag, took out his credit card. He handed it to me.

"I think it's better if you handle the gas. The fewer people that see you the better." He says, unbuckling his seat belt.

I hold the credit card in my head. Great, so this is what I had been reduced to. Gas duty. Letting out a sigh, I also manage to unbuckle my own seatbelt. I walk all the way round to the hose and, putting the card through its slot, start filling up the tank. I watch as Marsh and Celeste walk into the store, leaving me staring after them. I'm done before they get back and, like the moment I woke up, I feel the bile begin to rise up in my throat.

I put the hose back in its place and race into the store with my hand over my mouth. Lucky for me, the ladies bathroom was empty and didn't reek like most convince store bath rooms. That's an added bonus considering I was stuck in that bathroom for the next five minutes.

I waited until I was sure I could safely leave the bathroom without my brunch coming back up. I grab a wipe from the sink and, rinsing my mouth,  wipe away the vomit from my fingers and face. I exit the bathroom and grab a pack of mints to go. I head over to the counter to pay for them.

I don't know when I dropped the package  but it happened suddenly before I could comprehend what was happening. I start to scream as I saw the blood flowing from the cashier's head, his body lying limb lifeless against the counter. His hands were still stretched towards the phone, probably to call the cops. I don't manage to scream, though. It never came out. A firm hand clamped down on my mouth. My knees give out from underneath me but strong arms catch me. Crap. Have I just been chloroformed?