Page 66 of They Say a Girl Died Here

“I’ll bring it.”

Relief rushed through her. Thank god. She had someone on her side.

80

“I told you to stay away from here.”

Anna had been so focused on the call that she didn’t look around as she left the field to grab her scooter, and she yelped in shock as the cold voice came out of the gloom. In the glare of her headlight, Brett Laverne was a black shape, a demon, a wraith, a void in man form.

She backed away, her lungs constricting in fear, her breath wheezing. “Don’t come near me,” she said. “I know everything. And I’ve told someone. You won’t get away with it.”

The shape moved forward. In his shadow on the dirt track, his hands were distorted, stretched long and thin, as if he could strangle her from where he stood.

“Oh, really?” His voice was every bad thing in the night. He swayed slightly. Drunk. Unconfined. “You’re coming with me.”

He moved forward again, but this time he didn’t stop, reaching to take ahold of her. She grabbed the scooter, turning it hurriedly, going over on her ankle as she kicked away, the sharp pain taking the last of her breath as she pulled her foot up onto the board. She pressed down on the accelerator, and, as the wheels spun fast, dust shot up behind her. For a moment, she thought he’d almost gotten her, but he was left clutching at air as she sped down the lane.

“Come back here, Anna!” He raged after her. “Come back here!”

She pushed the scooter onward, desperate to get away. He’d follow her, she knew it. He didn’t have any choice. Her fear escaped in a low moan sucked up into the wind that buffeted her. Dr. Burdett was on his way to her house. He was bringing a gun. She’d be safe when she got there. As she reached the end of the lane, she pushed down again on the accelerator, sure there was more power in it. It didn’t respond. She pressed again, but if anything, the scooter was slowing down.

“No, no, no,” she muttered. “Please, god, not now.” Despite her pleas, the last dregs of battery power brought her to a halt. She was barely at the main road. She looked backward, her hair whipping around her face. The wind was too loud to hear any distant engine noise and she couldn’t see any headlights yet, but every nerve in her body screamed at her to run. Her muscles did as they were told, and, ignoring the stabbing pain that shot through her right ankle every time her Converse hit the asphalt, she broke into a stumbling sprint, no light to guide her, fighting through the night in the direction of home.

It had been a long time since she’d done any exercise, none at all since the thing and barely any after high school because that was all partying and fun right up until the thing, and she cursed as she gasped for air, the ground hard, her joints jarring with the shock of every impact. Within five minutes her thighs were screaming and her lungs were on fire and she paused, bending double, not sure if she was going to crumple or throw up or both.

She glanced behind and groaned. Oh shit. A pair of glowing yellow eyes in the darkness, a wolf coming after its prey.

She forced herself onward, the wind intent on pushing her back, and she knew, even as she struggled, that there was no way she could escape the truck catching up with her. Is this how it would be different this time? She wouldn’t die in the basement, but out on some deserted road? Why couldn’t a truck or car come along? Why did they live in the middle of nowhere?

She kept moving, her legs weakening until her ankle turned again and she thudded to the ground, yelping in pain. She looked back. The headlights were clearer now. Closer. With a whimper, she hauled herself up, her run now a limping jog as she dragged her bad foot behind, aware the gap must be closing fast. She was sure she could hear the engine over the sound of the wind. The truck would catch her within minutes, and there were still several hundred feet until the turn in the road that would eventually lead her to the cemetery and home, but even then she couldn’t rely on passing traffic to save her. It was hardly a freeway, and the storm the town had been waiting for was definitely coming, so people would be busy securing their properties and livestock. She needed to hide.

Away from the Laverne farm, the crops were sparser, but she did have the cover of night. She risked stopping to look back.Fuck. The wolf’s eyes were now small twin suns bearing down on her, and within a second she was squinting in the glare, a rabbit trapped in panic. The truck sped up and Anna did the only thing she could. She darted sideways into the thinly populated cornfield. She ducked low, pushing through the dry stalks that clawed at her face. Her breath came in rapid pants and her T-shirt was drenched in sweat from her exertion and the grotesque humidity. She had no idea which direction she was stumbling in, and she didn’t care. She’d rather die lost forever in a field than at a man’s hands.

The lights came to a stop behind her and she paused, not wanting to make any noise, crouched low on her haunches, ankle throbbing, peering as best she could at the road. The engine thrummed, but the truck had pulled over. He wasn’t getting out. Why wasn’t he getting out? Instead, the window rolled down.

“Anna? Are you okay?” The words were thin on the air, eaten up by it, but they made Anna’s heart leap. “Come on, Anna, you’re freaking me out here. What’s wrong?”

Melissa. It was Melissa. Thank fuck.

81

“Jesus, what happened?” Melissa stared at her with a mix of horror and worry as Anna clambered into the truck. “Was it my dad?”

Anna leaned against the headrest, catching her breath and taking stock of every screaming muscle in her body, not yet able to answer. There was a water bottle in the cupholder and she opened it and drank hard. She glanced toward Melissa, then looked back into the dark night. “Can you just drive?”

“In a minute.” Melissa lit two cigarettes, handing one across. “No one’s behind us. You’re okay.” She twisted around in her seat to face Anna, full of concern, taking in her appearance. “It was my dad, wasn’t it?”

Anna didn’t know what to say. Yeah, he scared the shit out of me and also he murdered your last best friend, so I didn’t want to hang around. This wasn’t the moment for that. If Melissa reacted badly and kicked her out, then she was stuck in the night alone. It might be chicken, but she didn’t want to be the one to tell her either. She just wanted to get away. “Drive, Melissa, please.”

Finally, Melissa ground the gears into first and the truck pulled away, Anna’s blood pressure dropping with relief. “He came in the house ranting about a girl.” Melissa’s eyes were on the road, but her brow was furrowed. Upset. “I knew he had to mean you. It’s why I came out. He scares me when he’s in those moods.” She took a drag of her cigarette and looked across at Anna, embarrassed and sad. “It’s why I said I’d come to your place if you wanted to hang out. I told you he was funny about me having friends. What did he do?”

“I probably overreacted. It was dark. I got scared. I have issues with men.” She looked out at the night rather than facing her friend. “He was drunk, I think. Tried to grab me, so I ran.”

“He did what? Motherfucker. I’m so sorry, Anna. I don’t know what he was thinking. He hates people coming on the farm. He wouldn’t have hurt you, though, I promise. He’s more likely to hurt himself or set fire to a field.”

“Like I said, I probably overreacted.” She smiled wanly. Melissa was so eager to be believed and Anna wondered which of the two of them she was trying to convince.

“Let’s get you home. Whatever it was, you’re shaken up. And did you hurt your ankle? I thought you were limping.”