Savannah opened the luggage compartment door. Cold, fresh air flooded in. Moving carefully and quietly, we crawled out. It felt like we were moving in slow motion, but at the same time, we couldn’t afford to make any noise. Every nerve ending vibrating, I waited to hear Rex or Sir. I didn’t know which would be worse. Once we were out, we lowered the cargo door back to its closed position with almost exaggerated care. Then I helped Savannah to her feet.
As I did, I looked up. My breath caught. The night sky was even more amazing than I remembered, like diamonds sprinkled over black velvet, with a three-quarter opalescent moon.
We were standing in the muddy clearing I’d last seen ten months before. Surrounded by the same fifteen-foot-high row of car carcasses that had been crushed into scrap metal and then piled on top of each other like oversized gray-and-rust-colored bricks. A narrow gravel road, just wide enough for a car, pierced the wall of metal. On it was parked the white van.
The only thing that had changed from ten months earlier was that now the clearing held a second old RV. About a month ago, I had heard a loud engine outside, but the tiny gap over the window hadn’t revealed what was happening. Sir must have intended it for Savannah, at least before she broke her wrist.
And past the second RV was the same run-down two-story house I’d seen during my abortive escape attempt. Sir must be in there. I thought of the knife and the Taser on his belt. If he woke up and heard us, he would surely kill us.
As would Rex.
Without any kind of signal between us, Savannah and I both started, madly, to run. The sound of every footfall made me wince. When a frozen puddle shattered into icy shards under my left foot, my heart leapt in my chest.
The multiple layers of clothes made our run more of a waddle. Despite the slow pace, even before we reached the opening in the wall of cars, I was wheezing. I used to run almost every day, but I hadn’t had any kind of exercise for ten months. My lungs burned, and my wasted muscles protested. The boom box thumped against my thigh. The only forces powering me were adrenaline and fear.
At first, Savannah was just a few feet ahead of me, but gradually, the distance between us lengthened.
Where was Rex? He could be anywhere. My nerves were stretched to the breaking point as I swiveled my head and strained my ears, waiting for an explosion of barking. But the only sounds were our breathing and our feet on the graveled road.
And then we were past the wall. Our horizons opened up. We were surrounded by hundreds, if not thousands, of old cars and trucks. They didn’t sit in neat, orderly rows, but in clumps and clusters. Hoods were up or gone. Doors missing. Some had no engine at all. Most had no tires.
My steps were slower and slower, both from exhaustion and from having to watch where I stepped. Bits and pieces of cars were strewn everywhere: seats, fenders, bumpers, bed liners, lengths of black rubber tubing, and white plastic reservoirs that had once held fluids.
I heard Rex before I saw him. It wasn’t a bark but a continuous growl, low in his throat. The emotion that filled me wasn’t fear. It was a hot eruption of terror. Every strategy we’d plotted flew out of my head.
He was galloping straight toward Savannah. His dark eyes were as big as chestnuts. His mouth was filled with teeth and foam.
And then he was on her, leaping the last six feet. Rex’s jaws closed on her thigh, and then he started violently shaking his head. He seemed determined to tear her apart. Somehow, probably thanks to kung fu, she was managing to stay on her feet, her free leg dancing back and forth as she tried to stay balanced.
Finally, I remembered the boom box. I stabbed at the button to play the tape of Sir’s commands. Before we left the RV, I had turned the volume to its highest level.
Sir’s voice suddenly boomed out. “Platz! Hier! Hier! Fuss!” Even though I knew it was just a recording, the sound of him so close caused another wave of terror to crash over me.
Rex abruptly released Savannah’s leg. My knees went weak with relief. Her plan was actually working.
He raised his head. He looked from me to Savannah and back again.
Too late, I realized what the word in the middle of our recording of Sir was. Hier. Pronounced slightly differently, probably spelled differently, but it must have meant “here.” As in “Come here.”
And then Rex abandoned Savannah for me.