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Part 3
"It's gone," Angel said out loud. "The damn bastard took my car." Sighing, he looked around and found the tire tracks from the car. He followed them until they ran into the road and disappeared. Sighing again, he began following the road, and shortly afterwards he came across an unoccupied Ford truck. Smiling to himself he tried the door, which swung open. There was still no sign of anyone, so he searched around for the keys, finally finding them in the glove compartment. Lady luck was smiling on him today! Angel revved up the truck and took off down the road. He stopped again at the gate, smiling at the Ranger; the Ranger frowned and signaled for Angel to roll down his window.
"We have a problem here, sir," the Ranger said gruffly. "Seems that this truck you're driving here has been stolen. Reason I know this is because it's my car."
Angel was dumbfounded. In his mind he was cursing himself for being so stupid as to not have noticed the Park Ranger logo on the side of the truck. Without thinking twice about it, he floored the gas, busted through the barrier, and kept going. Hours later down the road he ditched the car and started running down the road. The only thing on his mind was finding Fritz, even if it was the last thing he ever did.
While running Angel noticed that it was getting lighter. Glancing around for a place to hide, he noticed a restaurant. Walking in the door he smiled at the waitress. "It's a trucker's restaurant," he thought to himself, "which explains why it is open at this hour." He sat down in the stools facing away from the windows, and ordered some coffee. The vampire sipped it, holding back his disgust at the taste; it was the bitterest flavor he had ever tried to drink. He reached for his wallet and was shocked to not be able to find it. Angel kicked him self for leaving it the glove compartment of his Camaro. He looked silently up at the waitress.
As if reading his mind she asked, "Can you wash dishes?" He nodded slowly. The Waitress said, "The names Nelia. Coffee here is 50 cents. That's about a half-hour's worth of work. You look like you don't have a car either. Another hour-and-a-half, and you can sleep in back room if you want."
Angel smiled. "Thanks," he said softly, and went to work washing dishes, his thoughts drifting. He thought of Buffy, with her beautiful eyes, her smile that melted his cold heart, the way he felt around her. He returned to reality when he heard thunder. It was low and not loud but he could hear it. He turned around to find it was coming from the radio. A guitar began to play and the singer began to sing:
Three thirty in the morning, not a soul in sight.
City is looking like a ghost town on a moonless summer night.
Rain drops on a windshield a storm is moving in.
He's coming back from somewhere that he never should have been.
And the thunder rolls.
And the thunder rolls.
Angel smirked. The song reminded him of something that he couldn't place. He let his mind wander again as he washed the dishes; after a while, sleep began to beckon him and he could tell that the sun had long since risen. He looked at the clock on the wall and saw that his two hours were up, so he walked into the back room to find a mattress on the floor and the blinds drawn shut. He lay down and was asleep in minutes.
Angel awoke to hear a trucker complaining about how some kid came out of nowhere and hijacked his truck. Angel walked out from the back room and saw that the trucker was a portly man who looked like a decent fellow. "What did this kid look like?" Angel asked.
The trucker looked up and said, "He was about 5'4", blonde hair, blue eyes, skinny and pale as hell."
Angel grinned. Now he had something of a profile. "If you saw him again, would you be able to identify him?"
The trucker responded, "Yeah, I could."
Angel smiled broadly and asked, "Do you know where we could get a car?"
Half an hour later the trucker (who went by the name of Red) and Angel were in a 1979 Ford pickup truck. Red told Angel he would be driving considering he knew the roads a bit better. Angel didn't argue. He could see the road just fine, but he did not want to explain that to his newfound ally. Two hours later they still hadn't found the truck.
"Are you sure he went this way?" Angel asked.
"Positive. He went west on this road." Red spoke gruffly.
Shortly afterwards they spotted Red's truck barreling down the road at 80 miles per hour.
"Damn it," Red groaned, "He keeps going at that speed and he'll run the engine into the ground."
"Pull up to the side of the truck, keep pace with it." Angel spoke quickly. "I'm going to jump on to the truck."
"What the hell?" Red shouted.
"Just do it," Angel ordered.
Xander and Spike walked into Giles' apartment where the spell was being set up. "Here's your plant," Xander said, exasperated.
Spike grinned, "We had some bloody fun getting it!" Putting on his game face, he added, "If you know what I mean."
Xander groaned, "I don't know how you could do that, it was so sick."
Spike took off his game face and smiled wickedly. "It was just a dog. And his owner. And . . . well, the cat tasted pretty good, too."
Xander looked like he was going to puke, and turned to Giles. "So, you almost ready?"
Giles looked up from the book he was reading, "Yes, almost ready to cast the spell. We are going to put him in this jar until we can figure out how to send him back to hell without unleashing some great evil." Glancing over at Willow, he added, "Remember -- if we screw this up we are unleashing even more evil into this child than what is already there."
Willow nodded, and continued reading. "Okay," she said, "Ready."
"Get closer!" Angel yelled at Red. "I can almost reach it!" In response, Red moved the truck closer to the semi. This was dangerous and both of them knew it. All Fritz had to do was move the wheel a tiny bit and slam the semi into the truck, sending it flying. Angel jumped and caught onto the side of the cab, just as Fritz made his move. Red went flying as the truck rolled through a field. "Damn!" Angel swore to himself. He was on the driver's side; he decided it best to come in on the passenger's side so he carefully moved himself behind the cab between the cargo and the cab. The cargo moved in a rhythmic pattern like a dance, coming closer and moving further away. At some points Angel had to press against the cab just to avoid being flattened by the cargo. Upon finally reaching the other side, he took a deep breath and opened the door.
Giles and Willow continued chanting as wind magically appeared in the room. Even though there were no windows open, lights flickered and the room moved a little. A big blue light rose out of the pot and traveled upwards toward the sky.
Punching the kid behind the wheel Angel pressed the brake to slow the truck. "Fritz. Why are you here?" Angel asked, looking the teen right in the eye.
"Who the hell is Fritz?" The teen asked.
"Aren't you the kid who was doing the chanting in the woods in Rome a few days ago?" Angel demanded. "I've seen you in my dream."
"Yeah we were trying to contact a guy named Fritz but we weren't successful." The teenager looked a bit angry.
"What happened to the rest of them?" Angel demanded.
"Wolves got to them, my prints are on them however that's why I left. I touched them before I left. Are you Angel?"
"Yes," Angel said.
"I have a message from Fritz," with a manic smile he spoke in a German accent, "See you soon.."
A bright blue light surrounded the teen and when it disappeared so did the teen. Angel only stared at where the teen had been. His mind raced with possibilities that could have explained the disappearance.&nsbp; None of the options seemed to settle his uneasy feeling that Fritz was out there some where. Finally, Angel turned the semi around and headed back to Red to see if he was okay. Angel couldn't shake the feeling that something was watching him.
Far off in the distance a deep-voiced German accent chuckled and smiled,
showing fangs.