The temperature had dropped, but the sun still hadn’t fully set. Another month or two and it would be dark before dinnertime, but for now the little bit of extra daylight still served in her favor. Pip had been snoring gently for about half an hour, and Kimmie’s eyes were strained from filling out that paperwork with nothing but the dim twilight and a cheap battery-powered flashlight.
When she heard the front door shut, she strained her eyes and peered out the window. When Chuck had to pee and the power was out, he either filled up the toilet or sprayed the area right by the front porch, but this time she could make out his fat figure sauntering toward the outhouse.
Her whole body trembled. She’d already planned what she was going to do, but what if Chuck found out? What if they ran out of time? Then what would happen to them?
Before grabbing Pip, she ran to the gun cabinet. Chuck still hadn’t put the rifle away. She’d never even handled the thing. Guns scared her, whether she was watching her stepfather aiming the barrel at her mom’s chest or just seeing a gunfight on one of his violent TV shows. But this was the only way to make her plan work. She was faster than Chuck, but she certainly wasn’t faster than a bullet.
She sprinted back into her room, trying to guess how long she had, begging God that it would be enough. Sometimes Chuck only needed a few minutes. Other times he could take nearly half an hour, although that was usually when he was in the house and had magazines to keep him busy.
She scooped Pip up, hoping he’d stay asleep until they were out of earshot. He’d be groggy and disoriented, and the last thing she needed was for Chuck to hear Pip crying as they made their escape. The biggest difficulty would be how to carry her brother and the rifle at the same time. She could just hide it. That way if Chuck went after them, at least he’d be unarmed. She didn’t have a lot of time to make her decision. Instead of taking it with her and risking falling and hurting herself or her brother, she rushed it into their bedroom and shoved it under her mattress. All she needed was a few minutes’ head start. She couldn’t take Pip to Mrs. Spencer’s. That would be too obvious and one of the first places Chuck would look. They’d have to go in the other direction. Kimmie needed to end up at the highway if she wanted to find someone with a phone who could help, but her main priority would be to evade Chuck for as long as possible. That was the first goal. Everything else was secondary.
Kimmie yanked their blanket off the bed and covered her brother. Tattered as it was, it’d give Pip some extra protection from the cold. Thankful that he was still asleep, she hurried as quickly as she could toward the front door, grabbing her jacket. Where were her shoes? There wasn’t any more time to waste. She threw them on her feet, snatched up her brother’s tennies, and was out the door.
Chuck hadn’t been hunting in over ten years, but Kimmie didn’t know just how good of a sportsman he’d been in the past. Could he follow their tracks? Would he bother in this chilly twilight? She’d need to make her way to the trooper station, but first the long trek through the woods, away from the highway, away from the neighbors who might offer to help.
As soon as she stepped outside, she wished she’d brought that rifle. She wasn’t even positive that she’d know how to fire it if she needed to, but at least she’d look imposing. Then again, she couldn’t carry her brother and an awkward gun very far. Pip was getting heavy. The woods thickened just ahead. Once she was convinced they were concealed by the trees and the darkness, she’d wake him up.
She hoped she hadn’t forgotten anything.
Going back was no longer an option. No second chances, no second guessing.
She had to go forward.
Even if it killed her.