CHAPTER 14
1208 Words
CHAPTER 14
“Are you all right? Is anything broken?”
Kennedy had never heard Carl sound frightened before. They were at a dead stop in the middle of the overpass, but he shot his hand out across her chest, as if he wanted to shield her from the impact several seconds too late. The wipers turned on automatically and screeched loudly against the dry windshield.
“I’m all right.” She was a little sore on her shoulder where the seatbelt had seized up, but she didn’t think she was injured.
There was a small cut on Carl’s forehead, but he opened the door and stepped outside. “I’m gonna see if the other driver’s all right. What in the world ...” He slammed the door in the middle of his sentence and walked up to the car ahead, smoothing down the front of his coat.
Kennedy opened her door and hopped out, too. If the driver was hurt, Carl might need an extra set of hands. She patted herself down and checked Carl’s fender, which was obviously dented, but at least it hadn’t buckled all the way in. Good thing Carl hadn’t been driving any faster.
The wind rushed across the top of the overpass, and Kennedy took a few steps away from the edge so she wouldn’t lose her balance. She was about to join Carl when the door to the black car ahead opened, and a muscular, slightly balding man jumped out.
Gino.
Her body whipped around and started running before her mind had fully processed the danger. She wasn’t about to wait and see if Carl’s Honda started up after slamming into Gino’s car. She sprinted right past it and hurried down the ramp. There were no sidewalks here, but it didn’t matter. She had to get as far away from him as possible.
And then she’d need to find someplace to hide.
Cold, wind, and panic were foreign to her now. Her lungs ached, but she didn’t dare slow down or look back. She thought she heard Carl calling behind her, but she couldn’t be sure. He was probably worried, probably would attribute her actions to another attack. It didn’t matter anymore what he thought. If only this were another episode. She would face shame and humiliation every day of her college career to learn this was another phantom her mind had conjured up.
Maybe the other times were just ghosts from her trauma, but this was different. Her mind was surprisingly clear. There was no coughing, no choking, no sobbing like in the science hall. No, this wasn’t some psychological hiccup.
This was real.
She had never driven in Cambridge before. She didn’t even have a license. She hadn’t been paying attention when Carl was driving and had no idea what street she’d be on once she got down off the overpass ramp. It didn’t matter. As long as she got to safety, she didn’t care where she was.
The street was mostly bare, no houses, only a few storefront businesses that were all closed for the night. Traffic was slow, but there were headlights ahead. Should she flag someone down? What if it was one of Gino’s men? What if they had been following for backup, and now they were coming straight toward her?
Tires screeched and squealed on the overpass above. The wind moaned and whipped past her cheeks. She had to stay alert. She could run underneath the overpass, but that would be an obvious hiding place. The sidewalk was lined with streetlights. Why couldn’t the city conserve energy at night like they did near her grandma’s house in upstate New York?
Her options were limited, but the worst plan of all was to stay put. She had to keep moving. She thought she heard a crash behind her but couldn’t slow down to look. Just move. Just move.
Her hair had fallen out of its clip and was smacking her face. She would never buy another pair of winter boots again — no matter how cute or stylish — without checking first to see how well she could run in them. There was a side street just ahead. If she could get to it ...
She strained every muscle. Forced her lungs to push through the pain. Please, God. Just give me a little more strength.
Her feet pounded the pavement, shooting fire up her shins as she rounded the corner onto a little residential road. This was perfect. Backyards. Fences. Even a doghouse a few homes down. Any shelter would do if it hid her from Gino.
She slowed her pace. The rest of her body was hot and sweaty from running so hard, but her face was raw with cold. Her leg muscles and lower back ached. How many times had she run in the past twenty-four hours?
Warm shame melted the icy cold on her cheeks. What if ...?
No, this wasn’t like the other times. That really had been Gino getting out of that car. She had seen him once on the subway. She had seen his picture again online. She couldn’t have made a mistake like that.
Could she?
And what about Willow? Willow said she recognized him, so it wasn’t all in Kennedy’s mind. He really was after her, right? Or what if her own paranoia had rubbed off on Willow, as well? Had her dad been giving Kennedy so many safety speeches that her roommate got infected, too?
What would she say to Carl?
Carl.
Where was he? She had just left him. She had just run right past ...
The sound of gunfire. She had never heard it before in real life, only in Willow’s silly video games and the movies she watched with her dad, but there was no mistaking it. Were they shooting at Carl? Her feet took off beneath her, thrusting her forward. If she could just make it to that dog house ...
The sound of tires squealing. A car taking the corner way too fast. She wasn’t going to make it in time. The light from the headlamps caught her, and she skidded to a stop, too petrified to keep running, too frightened to turn and face him. In her periphery, she caught sight of the little black car pulling up along the curb.
She listened to it stop, forced herself to turn, and quivered as Gino strolled out as if he had all the time in the world, swinging his gun back and forth in his hand. What would he do? Make her kneel with her hands behind her head? Shoot her execution-style? What if he abducted her again? What if they took her somewhere ...
The loud blaring of a horn broke Kennedy’s fear-induced paralysis, and the crumpled front end of Carl’s Honda whizzed toward her. She dashed across the street, but even as she ran, she knew she wouldn’t make it in time. Gino would shoot. He would kill her.
Crack.
She prayed the noise of the gun firing would wake up someone in the neighborhood. They would call the police, check the license plate, maybe get the entire scene on video.
“Get in!” Carl shouted at her, and she scurried around to the passenger side and flung open the door as another gunshot split the air around her. As soon as she was in the car, Carl slammed on the gas, and they jolted ahead.
“Buckle up.” His voice was rigid. His whole body radiated tension as he leaned forward and gripped the steering wheel. “I haven’t driven this fast since college.”
- Writer
