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There she was, right on the other side, her face twisted by the warped glass, pulled into something monstrous, all eyes and gaping mouth. Even through the distortion, Robyn could see her hate and felt a twinge of outrage. What had she done to deserve this girl's hatred?
She's nuts, Bobby. She doesn't need a reason. Just run -
Adele pulled out her gun.
Robyn sidestepped, unable to tear her gaze away from the weapon.
It's on the other side of the glass, Bobby. She's trying to spook you. Don't let her. Just get out of there.
Another slow step sideways. Robyn slid her hand into her pocket and took out the cell phone, then motioned throwing it over the wall. Adele nodded and lowered the gun.
Robyn reached as high as she could and dropped the phone over the wall. She didn't wait to see whether Adele caught it. She was turning to run when, out of the corner of her eye, she saw Adele let the phone hit the floor, her hands rising, the gun swinging up.
Robyn dove. The bullet sliced through the glass and whizzed past her.
Holy shit. Holy shit!
Robyn scrambled up and ran, hands out, veering when she felt glass. She heard another crack behind her. Another bullet.
Wasn't anyone out there? Couldn't they hear it? Adele had a silencer on the gun, but it made a noise. An unmistakable noise, along with breaking glass. With the racket from the carnival, though, no one noticed. Robyn could scream as loud as she wanted and she'd only be mistaken for a girl on the Zipper next door.
The glass in front of her cracked into a spider web, bullet hole in the center. Robyn spun, wildly feeling for another passage, found one and took it, leading her toward the rear of the trailer.
A distorted, painted clown leered from the back wall. Something about the image wasn't right, the costume off-kilter, as if someone had put up a painted panel wrong, leaving a black line through it. Then she realized the line was the night sky, the painting masking a door, the distortion meaning it was cracked open.
She barreled toward it, hands out, expecting another glass wall, ready to smash through it. But her luck held and in three steps she was at the door, stumbling forward in her eagerness, hands hitting hard. The door flew open under her weight and she staggered, about to fall face-first off the steps when a figure caught her and slammed the door behind her.
She opened her mouth to shriek. A hand clamped over her mouth. The figure yanked her around, one hand at her waist, the other around her neck, pulling her back against him.
"Shhh," a man's voice said. "You're okay."
She struggled to turn around, managing to catch a glimpse of dark hair before he grabbed her shoulders, propelling her down the steps and into the shadows behind the trailer. Then he pulled her against him again, his hand ready to clamp over her mouth, waiting until she gave him cause.
Adele's footsteps sounded across the trailer floor.
"Karl?" Robyn whispered.
"Shhh, yes. You're okay."
"How - ?" She'd been about to ask how he found her, then remembered the phone call and Hope overhearing the background noise.
He leaned into her ear. "Count of three?" He pointed to a narrow dark strip behind the row of trailers.
He started counting. On three, she ran, with Karl behind her. She tried to glance back once, but he gave her a shove, hissing for her to keep going.
Finally they reached an exit marked Staff Only manned by a pimply teen. Still pushing her forward, Karl grabbed the gate.
The kid lowered his magazine. "Hey, are you - ?"
"Staff."
Karl prodded her through. Again, she tried to slow, to talk, to turn and look at him, but he shoved her, even less gently this time, with a gruff "move."
Now she could see why the fair had been crammed into one end of the park. The other was hilly and wooded. When she squinted, she could make out a sign telling cyclists to stay off the footpath. That was where Karl took her, onto that path and into the woods.
They'd gone about fifteen feet when his steps slowed to a walk.
"This looks like a good place," he said. "Suitably nondescript. She won't find you here."
