Page 173 of Serenity Falls

Now, the sight of the brightly decorated truck digs sharp fingers of dread into my scalp. We watch from the window of Home and Spry as it crawls down the street in the fading daylight. Super Soft, 99s, Shakes, Cones, Sundaes. The music chimes brightly, the cones gleam. As it pulls to a halt outside our house I notice the rear window is cracked and feel a small stab of satisfaction.

‘What’s it doing?’ Sadie asks.

‘Watching,’ Davey says. ‘Waiting.’

‘Shit.’

‘You need to go out the back,’ Stella says.

‘Then what? I’m guessing Fred isn’t going to let us stroll out of the front gates.’

‘Doubtful.’

‘The tunnel,’ Davey says. ‘I’m pretty sure I can find my way back there.’

‘You said it took hours through the woods,’ Sadie says.

‘Plus, it’s getting dark,’ I add.

‘You can take a boat along the river. There’s a few old kayaks in the boathouse, along with the sheriff’s motorboat,’ Stella says.

‘Why can’t we take the motorboat?’ Sadie asks.

‘You want the whole town to know what you’re doing? An engine is loud. Paddles are quiet.’

‘What about our passports?’

‘You can replace them,’ Stella says.

Sadie shakes her head. ‘Zelda. I can’t leave without Zelda.’

‘Sadie—’ I start to say.

‘No. I’m not leaving her.’

‘Who’s Zelda?’ Stella asks.

‘Sadie’s dead cat,’ I say. ‘Well, her bones.’

‘Mum gave her to me,’ Sadie whispers. ‘She’s all I’ve got left of her.’

And I get it. The flesh-and-blood cat may be gone, but Sadie still clings to the bones. We all do that, in a way. Cling to the bones of things long gone.

I stare at Stella helplessly. ‘We have to get the cat.’

‘You can’t—’

‘They can,’ Davey says, glancing at Sadie, and I realize he gets it too. ‘We can provide a distraction.’

‘What do you suggest?’

He considers, and then he says: ‘I’ve got an idea.’

Sadie and I remain crouched by the window. Stella strolls out of the front door. She walks purposefully to her car, parked a little way down the street (‘So as not to draw attention’).

‘Won’t they try to stop you,’ I’d asked.

‘They don’t care about me. Not right now, anyway.’