“Tired, yes. Hungry, a bit. Pissed off? No.” I looked up at him. “Seriously. I’m not.”
“You’ve been really quiet.”
I laughed. “I’m normally really quiet. But these last couple of weeks have not been normal.”
“I know you don’t always say a lot, you’ve just been…” He shrugged. “I thought you were mad.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “About that—being mad. You were right the other night, after what happened in that alley. I was mad at myself. It just took me a while to calm down enough to figure that out.”
I nodded.
“What I did, when we lived here, hurting that kid. I didn’t think it could ever happen again. I’ve been through it so many times, thinking of what went wrong and what I’d do if I ever got into that situation again, all the coping strategies Dr. Gill taught me.”
“Dr. Gill?”
“Yeah, I know. She creeped me out even before we knew about the Edison Group. But she was a real shrink, and she did try to help. It was in their best interests to teach me to control my temper. So I was sure, if anything like that ever happened again, there was no question that I’d handle it better. And what happened? Almost the exact same scenario…and I did the exact same thing.”
“You stopped yourself before you threw her into the wall.”
“No, you stopped me. If you hadn’t yelled, I would have done it. All those strategies. All that mental rehearsal. And when it happened, I never considered doing anything different. I couldn’t. My brain just shut down.”
“But it didn’t take much to turn it back on again.”
He shrugged.
“That’s got to be progress, right?”
“I suppose so,” he said, but he didn’t sound convinced.
At the truck stop, our plan was to stow away in a transport. We sat in the restaurant, nursing sodas while Derek listened to the conversations around us, and picked out truckers heading our way.
The first truck was parked up front, making it impossible to sneak on without being seen. The second time, the trailer had a huge padlock on it, too big for Derek to break. The third time, as the saying goes, was the charm.
We’d followed the driver to his vehicle, which turned out to be a cube van. After he got into the cab, we snuck in the back.
The guy ran some kind of construction business. The van smelled of wood chips and oil and was full of tools, ropes, ladders, and tarps. When the truck reached the highway and the road noise was loud enough to drown us out, Derek took the tarps and made a bed on the floor.
“You need sleep,” he said. “They stink but…”
“They’re softer than cardboard. Thanks.”
He handed me half an energy bar that he must have been saving.
“No, keep it,” I said.
“You’ll sleep better if your stomach isn’t growling. And don’t say it isn’t. I can hear it.”
I accepted the bar.
“And take this.” He stripped off his sweatshirt. “Again, it might not smell great, but it’s warm.”
“You need—”
“I don’t. I’ve still got a touch of fever from last night.”
I took the sweatshirt. “It’s okay, Derek. I’m not mad.”
“I know.”
I settled onto the tarp bed and pulled the sweatshirt over me, like a blanket. Then I ate the rest of the energy bar.
When I finished, Derek said, “You can’t sleep with your eyes open, Chloe.”
“I don’t want to drift off, in case anything happens.”
“I’m here. Go to sleep.”
I closed my eyes.
I woke when the truck slowed. Derek was at the back, opening the door to peek out.
“Is this our stop?” I asked.
“We should be far enough. We aren’t in a town, though. It’s another truck stop.”
“A pee break after that mega-coffee he bought.”
“Yeah.” He opened the door farther for a better look. “I’d rather be in a town….”
“But he might not stop at one. We should get out while we can.”
Derek nodded and closed the door. The truck pulled into a spot and stopped.
“Get under a tarp,” Derek whispered, “in case he checks the back.”
A minute later, the rear door squealed open. I held my breath. The cube van wasn’t that big, and if the driver climbed inside to get something, he’d probably step on us. But he stayed at the tailgate. Tools clattered, like he was getting one from a box. Then the noise stopped. I tensed.
“I did forget the new vise grips,” the man muttered. “Great.”
The door shut with a bang. When I started pulling off the tarp, Derek whispered, “Wait. He’s still walking away.”
A minute passed as he listened, then he said, “Okay.”
I got up and pushed the tarps back where we’d found them as Derek peeked outside again.
“Trees to our left,” he said. “We’ll head through there, then circle and grab something to drink from the restaurant before we head out.”
“And use the bathroom.”
“Yeah. Follow me.”
We slipped out of the van and darted to the trees. Running behind Derek was worse than running behind Tori—with his long legs he barely needed to walk fast before the gap between us widened.
When he stopped short and spun to face me, I expected a scowl and an order to keep up, but his lips formed a curse. Running footfalls sounded behind me. I was about to break into a sprint when a hand clamped down on my shoulder.
Derek started to charge. I saw his expression, that telltale curl of his lip, and I wildly gestured for him to stop. He did, skidding to a halt, but his gaze stayed fixed over my head, watching my captor.
“I thought I’d picked up a passenger or two,” said a man’s voice.
He turned me around. It was the driver of the van. He was middle-aged with a gray ponytail and a craggy face.
“W-we didn’t take anything,” I said. “I’m sorry. We just needed a ride.”
“Jesus,” he said, shifting me into the sun for a better look. “How old are you?”
“F-fifteen.”
“Just barely, I’ll bet.” He shook his head. “Running away from home. I’d bet on that, too.” His voice softened. “That’s not a road you want to take, kids. Speaking from experience, it is not the road at all.”
Derek sidled closer, gaze fixed on the man, so intent I don’t think he heard a word the guy said. I slid my hand into my pocket, fingertips touching my knife, not taking it out, just reminding myself it was there, that I wasn’t as helpless as I felt.
I caught Derek’s attention, not sure he’d notice, but he did, nodding absently, letting me know he was still in control.
The man continued, “Whatever is going on at home, it’s not as bad as you think.”
I lifted my gaze to his. “And if it is?”
A pause, then a slow, sad nod. “All right. Maybe that’s so. It happens, more than you think, but there are other ways to deal with it. Places you can go. People who can help.”
“We’re fine,” Derek said, his voice a low rumble.
The man shook his head. “You’re not fine, son. You’re, what, seventeen? On the run? Catching rides in the back of vans?”
“We’re fine.” Derek’s rumble had gone lower, a growl now. He cleared his throat and eased back. “We appreciate your concern, sir.”
“Do you, son? Do you really?” He shook his head. “I’m going to take you both inside and get you a hot meal. Then I’ll make some calls. Find you a place to stay.”
“We can’t—” I began.
“No one’s going to send you home. Now come on.” His hand tightened on my shoulder.
Derek stepped forward. “Sorry, sir, but we can’t do that.”
“Yes, you can.”
Derek waved for me to come over to him. I took a step. The man’s hand tightened more.
“Let her go.” The growl had returned to Derek’s voice.
“No, son. I won’t hurt your friend, but I’m going to take her inside and call someone who can help. I’m hoping you’ll come with us, but that’s your choice.”
“Go,” I whispered, low enough that only Derek could hear. “I’ll catch up.”
I was sure he’d heard, but he pretended not to.
“I’m going to ask you again, sir. Let her go.”
“That sounds an awful lot like a threat, son. You’re a big boy, but you don’t want to take on a guy who’s been in construction for twenty years and in more fights than he cares to admit to. I don’t want to hurt you—”
Derek sprang, lightning fast. He had his arm around the man’s throat before the guy even got his fists up. As he yanked the man down in a headlock, I stumbled out of the way, my hand flying from my pocket, knife sailing to the ground. The man stared at it. I scooped it up and put it back in my pocket.
“We don’t want to hurt you either,” Derek said. “But you can see”—he tightened his grip until the man’s eyes bugged—“that I could. I know you’re trying to help us, but you don’t understand the situation.”
Derek looked at me. “Run back to the van. Grab rope and some rags.”
I took off.
Thirty-two
TWENTY MINUTES LATER, WE were a mile from the truck stop, trudging through a field. Ahead was a road that ran alongside the highway.
“You don’t think we did the right thing,” Derek said.
I shrugged.
“I didn’t tie him too tight. He’ll get out in an hour, probably less, and I left his cell phone right there, in case there’s any problem.”
I nodded. We walked another fifty feet.
“What would you have done?” he asked.
“You know my plan. It’s the one you pretended not to hear.”
We reached the roadside before he answered. “Yeah, okay. I heard. But it didn’t look to me like he was going to give you a chance to escape. I knew I could take him down safely, without hurting him, before things got worse. And if I can do that, then that’s the choice I’m going to make. It’s how our dad taught us to handle situations like that.”
I considered it, then nodded. “You’re right.”
He looked surprised.
“I don’t have experience with this stuff, these kinds of decisions,” I said. “With the girl in the alley or the Edison Group, the answer was easy. If someone’s trying to hurt us, we have every right to strike back. It’s just…”
“That guy was trying to help a couple of runaways. He didn’t deserve to end up bound and gagged.”
I nodded.
“Even someone like that is a threat, Chloe. Whether he means to be or not. We had to get away or his ‘help’ would have landed us back with the Edison Group.”
“I know.”
We moved to the side of the road for a passing car, tensing as it went by, making sure the brake lights didn’t flash, the car didn’t slow. It wouldn’t matter if the driver was a psycho trying to abduct us or a grandmother offering us a lift. We had to react the same way. Run. And if we couldn’t run, fight.
The car continued, speed unchecked.
“We can’t trust anyone now,” I murmured, “even the good guys.”
“Yeah. Sucks, doesn’t it?”
It did.
We continued down back roads running roughly parallel to the highway. Judging by how long we’d been in the van, Derek figured we had to be close to the next town with a bus stop, but the truth was that we had no idea. However far it was, we had to walk it—we weren’t about to hitch another ride.
One problem with our quiet country stroll was the dogs. Those tied up launched into a barking frenzy when they caught a whiff of Derek. No one seemed concerned, though—out here, I guess there were so few passersby that dogs did tend to bark at them, and owners ignored it.
However, being in the country also meant that a lot of those dogs weren’t chained. More than one came charging down a driveway. Eventually, our reaction became automatic. At the first note of a bark, we’d stop walking. I’d move behind Derek. He’d stand his ground and wait. Once the dog got within eye contact range, it would take one good look at Derek and run, yelping, for safety.
“Do they always back down like that?” I asked as we watched a yellow Lab race back home, tail between its legs.
“Depends on the dog. Big country dogs like these? Yeah. It’s the fancy city ones that give me trouble. Overbred, Dad says. Makes them skittish and screws up their wiring. I had a Chihuahua attack me last year.” He showed me a faint scar on his hand. “Took a good chunk out.”
I sputtered a laugh. “A Chihuahua?”
“Hey, that thing was more vicious than a pit bull. I was at a park with Simon, kicking around a ball. All of a sudden, this little rat dog comes tearing out of nowhere, jumps up, and clamps down on my hand. Wouldn’t let go. I’m shaking it, and the owner’s yelling at me not to hurt little Tito. I finally get the dog off. I’m bleeding all over the place and the guy never even apologizes.”
“He didn’t think it was strange? His dog attacking you like that?”
“Nah. He said the soccer ball must have provoked it, and we needed to be more careful. When strange stuff happens, people come up with their own explanations.”
I told him about the girl in the alley, accusing Tori of tasering her.
