"Molly! Wake up!"

Molly opened one eye and glared up at Sierra.

"It's still dark. What's wrong with you?" she grumbled and as she rolled over and shut her eyes again.

"Please wake up. Look! I made you breakfast," Sierra said in the most appealing tone she could manage.

Molly snorted.

"You made breakfast?"

"Okay, I went down the street for cinnamon rolls."

"Do those cinnamon rolls have cream cheese icing?"

"Of course."

"No raisins?"

"No raisins."

"There better be coffee."

"Triple white chocolate macchiato, extra foam."

Molly opened her eyes.

"Alright. You have my attention. What are we doing?"

Sierra smiled.

"Like you said. Stalking."

An hour and three shots of espresso later, Sierra pulled her blue Prius to a stop a block away from the Governor's mansion. The sun was just barely starting to illuminate the street.

"So what's he doing today?" Molly asked.

"Nothing," Sierra replied with a smile.

"Oh," Molly said. "And here I thought the point of stealing his schedule was to know where he will be. I must have gotten confused somewhere."

"It's too obvious," Sierra replied. "His schedule is full of innocuous appointments and meetings. Except today. Today is a Tuesday and his schedule is entirely blank."

"I don't suppose he's just on a Netflix binge?"

"No," Sierra said as she continued to stare intently through the windshield. "Today he's doing something he doesn't even want his secretary to know about."

By the second hour Molly was snoring softly, but Sierra couldn't have been more awake. Her mind buzzed with possibilities and visions of wiping that plastic smile off of Joe's face.

Sierra had done alright for herself at The Post. Getting hired by a major newspaper at the age of 22 had been no small accomplishment. But three years later she couldn't help but feel her career had gone stagnant. Her editors were happy with her work. She was making enough money to get by. But the serious journalism work still eluded her. Sierra could not bring herself to write one more word on the latest Marvel blockbuster or who Jennifer Lawrence was dating. There was no excitement and no challenge in any of that.

She was bored.

On her weekly phone calls from back home in Visalia Sierra's mother always insisted that what was missing in her life was a man. Molly, being much more comfortable with the notion of being married to your work, insisted instead that what Sierra needed was a good lay.

Sierra smiled to herself. Well if all went according to plan, she could tell her mother that there was a man in her life. And she could tell Molly that she had found someone to screw, or rather screw over.

What Sierra needed was a good story. And if Governor Joe was hiding even half as much as she thought he was, she was about to be anything but bored.

The gates outside the mansion wheeled open and the governor's black Range Rover pulled out of the drive way. Sierra fumbled to start the car in excitement as the Range Rover slipped around the corner. Cursing loud enough to startle Molly awake, she started the car and shot off after him.

As she rounded the corner she was flooded with relief that his car was still in sight. She tried her best to stay a few cars behind him, hoping that he didn't notice her. This was Olympia. There must have been at least three other Prius's on the road at any given moment, so that helped. She let herself slip just a little further behind as he pulled onto the highway.

"You're going to loose him!" Molly protested.

"No I won't," Sierra replied with confidence.

And she felt confident about that. Adrenaline coursing through her veins, she was not only sure she could follow him successfully, but that she was following him somewhere important. Every instinct told her he was going somewhere he didn't want anyone to know about.

But as they kept driving, she lost all theories on where, or what, that could possibly be. The further they drove, the less populated the area became. They had left the city, then the suburbs, then wound their way onto a back road with nothing but dense trees on either side. It was the kind of road where the tree branches on either side touched, creating a canopy filled with dark green filtered light. Time lost meaning, the shadows giving the perception of night.

"New theory," Molly piped in after some time. "He knows we're following him, and he's leading us into the woods to bludgeon us to death and feed our bodies to the bears."

"We are not going to be bear food," Sierra insisted, but privately she was getting nervous about the surroundings.

There were no more cars on the road anymore besides hers and the governor's. Though she was trying to stay as far back as she could, surely he must have noticed her by now.

"I am not dying for your story, Sierra," Molly said adamantly. "I'm not allowed to die until I have a painting at The Met. We can go chase shady politicians through the woods after that."

"I have my gun," Sierra offered.

"You have a pea shooter," Molly objected. "I'd feel better if you'd brought a shotgun."

The Range Rover was at least 200 feet ahead of them, as far as Sierra dared to let it get without slipping out of her sight. It went over the crest of a hill and disappeared from view. Sierra followed him up over the hill.

The Range Rover was gone.

"Shit!" Sierra exclaimed, looking around wildly. "Where did he go?"

She slammed on her brakes and turned the car around. The Prius pivoted easily on the narrow, two-lane road. Slowly, she backtracked, trying to see where he could have gone. Then she spotted it. Just over the side of the hill a single-lane dirt road cut through the trees. Sierra stopped in front of it.

"Well," Molly reasoned, "Maybe tomorrow you could come back with a rental truck."

Sierra just kept staring at the road.

"No," Molly said, sensing her determination. "You are not even thinking about this. This is a hy-brid." She emphasized every syllable of the word, as if Sierra needed reminding.

"I'm pretty sure if you popped the hood you'd find a hamster on a wheel powering this thing. It doesn't go off road."

"That's a road." Sierra reasoned.

"No, that's a mud bog."

Sierra tried, and failed, to listen to reason. Visions of her byline on the front page flashed before her eyes.

"I'm not letting him get away," she said and she turned onto the road in pursuit.

"Shit," Molly said with ominous resignation.

She grabbed on to the Jesus bar as the car lurched.

Sierra bounced in her seat and punched the gas pedal, hearing the familiar electronic whir of the engine as it tried to keep up. Tree branches whipped past them, no doubt scratching up the glitter finish paint job. The road wound around several corners and foliage so dense Sierra flipped on the headlights. A blind corner lead into an enormous puddle. With an almighty lurch and a terrible bang the Prius sunk into the mud and stopped.

"No, no, no!" Sierra protested.

Molly sighed dramatically and leaned back in her seat. Sierra frantically gunned the engine. The tires spun, splattering mud out around them and the car stayed obstinately fixed in place. Sierra stared out the windshield in frustration. He was out there, just out of her reach.

She climbed out of the car, sinking one high-heeled foot into the mud. When she lifted her foot again the shoe did not come with it, vanishing completely into the murky soil. Cursing, she pressed on wearing only one shoe towards the back of the car, feeling the mud squish between her toes.

Molly hoped out of the passenger side, her usual sneakers holding up to the hybrid-eating mud much better than Sierra's heals had.

Sierra tried in vain to push on the back of the car.

"You killed the hamster. And now we're going to be bear food," Molly announced.

"That is not helpful," Sierra said.

She pulled out her cell phone. No service. Perfect.

Molly sighed as Sierra continued to push.

"Okay," Molly said, "Give me your gun."

"Why?"

"Because I, with the practical shoes, am going to walk that way," she pointed back towards the now only somewhat distant paved road, "Until I find some cell phone coverage. You can go dig in the mud for your heels, and if the bears show up, lock yourself in the car."

Conceding that this was a good plan, Sierra watched Molly hike away down the dirt road.

She trudged her way back to the open driver's side door and bent over the puddle. With some reservation, she reached her manicured hand in and felt around wildly for her vanished shoe. Her fingers seized on it, but the mud held it in a vice grip almost as tight as it held the Prius. Reaching in with both hands now, she tugged on the shoe as hard as she could. The shoe ripped suddenly free, throwing her off balance as she teetered on one heel. She fell backwards into the mud puddle, landing on her ass with a splash, still grasping the shoe.

Now covered in muck, thoroughly disappointed, and cold, she started trying to get up.

That was when deep voiced laughter greeted her ears. She looked up.

Governor Joe was standing in front of her.