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I laughed then. I’m not laughing now.
But if I can find it… I roll over, twisting my body into a pretzel and trying not to vomit all over myself from the movement. It’s still dark, I can’t see anything, and I’m wondering if that salesman was a liar until—
There. A lightly glowing green button with an arrow on it. Thank God.
The relief is so intense I almost jab the button immediately. Only inches away, I jerk my hand back, my heart pounding hummingbird fast. I don’t know how fast the car is moving. What if I open the trunk on a highway? I can’t leap out at seventy miles an hour.
But if I wait until the car slows—then I could make the jump. Hopefully it’s still dark out and I can find someplace to hide. I just need to pay attention to the sounds of the car moving.
It’s not as hard as I anticipated. The car shifts from a smoother, quieter ride to a louder and bumpier one. I can feel the wheels slowing, the momentum as the car stops, then speeds up again.
The next time the car slows, I’m doing it.
But fear paralyzes me, and I miss my chance the next time the car slows down. Panic works at me, making me second-guess myself. What if I jump out and break my leg? Myneck?
What if I don’t escape and I end up wherever Sean—it must be Sean and that awful drink he ordered—is taking me? Whatever he has planned for me, I know it’s not good.
I’ll take my chances with the road.
The next time the car slows, I need to be ready. Thinking through the strategy I quickly came up with—tuck and roll, stay low on the ground, try to make it to some kind of cover—I have my finger poised over the green button, trembling.
Oh, please. Let this work.
This time when the car slows, I make my move.
I jab at the button, a flicker of thought nearly strangling me—what if it’s broken, what if it doesn’t work? But it does, and the trunk pops open.
Then I crouch in the trunk and look out at the road. Oh, God. This is insanity.
But there’s no turning back now. So I jump—tucking myself in a ball, head down, arms around my legs—and pray.
The road slams into me, the worst pain I’ve felt, ripping skin and forcing all the air from my lungs. But the brake lights are coming on and I need toget out of here. I’m rolling across the asphalt, my brain screamingrun, run, run, get on your feet, and run.
Somehow, I make it off the road and I shove myself up, my arms and legs miraculously still working. Quickly looking around, I take stock of my surroundings.
There are trees on both sides of the road, but thinned out, and a yellow school bus sign up ahead. Close to civilization, then. At least, I hope. I bolt for the trees, breath coming out in whistling gasps, and I’m dimly curious why I don’t hurt more, but I can’t take the time to consider it further.
All I can focus on is running, trying to get deeper into the trees.
My heart is exploding with fear.
All I can think isdon’t catch me, don’t catch me, oh please don’t catch me.
I don’t know how much time goes by, but I keep running, falling onto sharp sticks and rocks and shoving myself back up, surging forward. My terror is too great to stop.
When I finally see a building, I almost sob in relief, but I don’t have enough air to do it.
It’s one of the mausoleums in the cemetery. Which I’d normally be creeped out about but right now all I can think is it’s somewhere to hide.
I sprint to the building, my pulse thundering in my ears. Once I get there, I crouch down, wedging myself between a bush and the wall, wondering if this is a good enough hiding spot. It’s dark out, my clothes are all dark and dirty, and I didn’t hear anyone coming after me, but I’m notsure.
When I realize I don’t have my phone to call for help, I almost break down.
But then I remember—my watch. It has an SOS call feature. Even if I don’t have my phone, my watch has cell service, so as long as I get a signal here, I should be okay.
Well. As the pain of my collision with the road starts to make itself known, I’m not sure if okay is the right word to describe me.
Alive. That’s the most important thing.
