36
Destiny looked down at the gas gauge.
The needle showed that the tank was almost full. That was one thing about Robb Ellis: he may have had a patch of furlike hair at the base of his spine, but he also had a working credit card and he knew how to use it.
If she could ever get her life together enough to have her own car, she just knew she’d always be running on empty.
Up ahead the blue sky was turning milky white.
Destiny crinkled up her nose. Summer storms appeared from the mountains, and now it looked like she was driving into one.
No, she was following someone who was driving into one.
Now that she’d been on the road for nearly an hour, her concentration was flagging.
What if she’d gotten the whole thing wrong? What if the guy in the silver car up ahead going just three miles over the speed limit was Emily’s uncle?
But why would an uncle put a gun in her back?
Maybe it wasn’t a gun.
It certainly appeared to be a gun. And she’d seen weapons.
And why else would Emily’s face have looked like a hunk of ice when she got in the car?
Destiny reassured herself that she was doing the right thing and kept her foot in the orange slipper pressed down on the gas pedal.
Emily dropped her right shoulder, forcing it to relax as she slowly worked to edge her purse off her body.
It took total concentration, but she was eventually able to get the soft leather strap to release, moving the bag down her arm against the door.
From there, she maneuvered her elbow to slip her right hand inside.
Her fingers angled through the leather opening and moved silently over the objects.
A hairbrush.
Lip gloss.
A key chain with a house key and a car key.
A ballpoint pen.
A mint candy wrapped in cellophane.
A hair scrunchie.
Her wallet.
A dime. A penny. A nickel. A dime.
A business card. She could feel the raised letters. It was from the optometrist. From when she and Sam took Riddle to get his new glasses.
Riddle. He had lived with this man for a decade. And so had Sam.
How had they survived?
Her fingers now ached as she thought of the two brothers.
And then, finally, her hand touched her cell phone.
Emily stared straight out the window as she pressed on the center dimple.
From there, she slid her index finger across the bottom. She had no way of knowing if it was on or what mode the phone would be in.
Or if the battery was so gone that nothing was now happening.
But she ran her fingertips over the bottom third of the glass screen, hoping that she was communicating something, anything, to the outside world.
Emily’s best friend, Nora, officially hooked up with Rory the summer before junior year. Once Nora had a boyfriend, the two girls were no longer joined at the hip.
But they still spoke often, even in the summer. Emily was now with Sam. They both had jobs. They got used to not knowing exactly what the other person was doing.
That was a good thing. Really. Even if it made them both sad to think that some of the closeness between them was now lost.
Nora was a lifeguard over the summer. Every ninety minutes she had a ten-minute break, when she and her lifeguard partner, Asher Luzatto, blew their whistles and cleared the pool.
Everyone was hauled out. The pool’s sanitary levels were checked, and the lifeguards got a much-needed break. It was hard work doing nothing but sitting in a chair looking down into the bright light at splashing bodies.
Nora used the time to retreat to the shade of the small office, where she ate a snack and checked her messages.
Now, when she took out her phone, she saw a text sent from Emily. It said:
Nora stared at the screen. There was a second message. It read:
Was it a joke? It didn’t look funny.
And then, finally, a third text read:
Nora had a dull headache. Maybe it was spam. Because if it was some kind of complicated code, or even if it was an obvious puzzle, she wasn’t getting it.
And so she sent back a simple reply:
?????
She then tossed the phone into her bag and went to get more sunscreen from the supply closet. She’d call Emily at the end of the day and see what was going on.
There were only two states of being.
In the first state, with the buzzing roaring in her head, Emily focused on studying what was exactly in front of her.
Literally.
The black molded plastic square, which covered the air vent of the dashboard, had a texture that looked like a miniature waffle. When the sunlight hit it in the right way, she could see a fine layer of dust. When the sunlight wasn’t angled in that direction, the panel looked completely clean.
Emily worked to take the observation to the next step: dust particles were really just tiny pieces of dirt. Or plant pollen. Or human skin cells. She had studied dust in high school. In physics. No, maybe in some other class.
Would she ever go to high school again?
Back to buzzing state.
The floor mat was made of gray fibers. Clean, upright strands. Like gray synthetic grass.
The car seemed new. A new car with clean floor mats.
Alert. Previously unseen was a small stain near the back right edge of the mat. That could come out. It could be scrubbed. Maybe vacuumed first? Her parents liked clean cars.
Parents. Would she ever see her parents again?
Freak out.
The windshield had little yellowy streaks. Flecks of yellowy stuff. What were they? Droppings of some kind. From an animal?
There is an animal sitting behind the wheel.
A terrifying animal.
Freak out.
Back to the buzzing.
Second state of being: analyze an escape.
Make a plan.
Big-picture thinking.
The car is driving north on the freeway.
Maybe someone is looking for this car?
No one is looking for this car.
The vehicle is not speeding.
The other cars, the other people, so close but yet so far, cannot help.
But the vehicle will need gas at some point if he keeps driving.
Question: does he know where he’s going? Does he have a plan?
He will have to stop the car for gas if he continues.
And what about eating?
Will he get hungry or thirsty?
And what about going to the bathroom? He will need to go to the bathroom.
When the car stops, what can be done?
If there are people around, how can they help?
Can her cell phone still send any kind of signal?
Why didn’t she charge her phone?
Sam.
Because she saw Sam with Destiny.
Did she really see Sam with Destiny? Did she make that up in her head? Was it a bad dream? Was this a bad dream?
This is as real as it gets.
Were people looking for her right now?
Maybe her family knew that she was in trouble.
The dog knew. He was at the window. He saw.
No one would get her out of this. No one could help her. It was all on her.
A plan would involve running. She could run long distances because of soccer.
A plan would involve leaving a trail.
A signal.
A sign.
A plan is needed.
Dying is not part of any plan.