“Once I take this off, that’s it. You know where you’re going?”
I nod, but he can’t see me in the dark, since I can barely see him. “Yes.”
“Are you ready?”
“No.” My stomach is alternating between heaving as if I’m going to be sick, and knotting so I can’t breathe.
“Ash, if we wait much longer, there won’t be enough time before daylight to put distance between us and them. We need the rain to wash away the tracks.”
I understand all of that. He explained it in detail. Twice. But it’s one thing to talk about escape and to academically acknowledge the risks and another to put the plan in to action and make the risks real.
I force out a breath, but my heart is already acting as though I’m running. I rake my teeth over my lip.
“Check if it’s clear.” His voice is calm and firm.
I do as he says, crouching low and peering through the gap. The rain is coming down hard enough that it’s hard to see the next building. “Clear.”
“Get over here. We’re going.” He’s gives orders as if I’m a soldier and I know what I’m doing. With a grunt, he shifts the door off its now unpinned hinges. “Go.”
I take a breath like I’m about to dive into a pool, then I duck beneath his arm and into the storm. I stay hunched over until I reach the shadow of the nearest car as planned. I’m already saturated. Rain runs down my face, over my bare arms and between my breasts. The white singlet I had on beneath my shirt is wet through.
Reed props the door back into place and joins me. He flicks his hair back as if untroubled.
When I open my mouth, he places one finger on my lips. We’re in the middle of the camp, and there are guards. We can’t see them but that doesn’t mean that we’re invisible.
I wanted to take the vehicle, but Reed said no. It will attract attention, meaning we’ll be shot at, and with all the rain the roads will be in even worse condition than they were yesterday, and he doesn’t want to be trapped.
That doesn’t stop him from opening the door and feeling around weapons. He expects there to be at least a knife and possibly a gun. He passes me a crowbar, then a knife. He was right about that. He opens the glove box and pulls out a pistol. In the partial shelter of the vehicle, he checks it over and counts the bullets. He doesn’t seem to be very impressed, but I am. He was right about the weapons.
My fear eases.
We’re getting out of here.
He closes the door and motions to the rear of the vehicle. Mud and water splash up my legs and I move. I’m trying to be quiet and graceful like him, but I feel like a child stomping through puddles.
I shiver, not sure if it’s from being drowned by the rain or if it’s from the adrenaline coursing through me. My skull seems to echo with the rain hammering on my head, but if it suddenly stops I’ll be terrified.
He taps my arm and points to our next destination. It’s a building, and there will be people inside.
Armed people.
My mouth dries, but I nod.
He creeps forward, bare feet and legs covered in mud. He drops to one knee and indicates for me to go with one hand. In his other hand is the pistol.
I take a couple of breaths, then go. Thinking about it for longer won’t help. Better to act and keep moving and getting pinned down will end badly, is what he’d said.
His warnings repeat in my head with every step.
Someone will hear me running, I’m sure of it. I make it to the building, but I don’t lean on the wall. I inch below the window and into the shadow, then I drop to one knee to wait. Crouching is hard on the legs, and if he’s kneeling, I might as well mimic him.
He’s still at the vehicle.
What’s he waiting for?
I want to go back and ask what’s wrong, even though I know that’s not the right thing to do. Instead I scan the area, searching for the problem.
Then I notice him. There is a guard standing in the doorway. If I’d been a few seconds slower, he’d have seen me. He lights up a cigarette and has a couple of drags. My gaze flicks to the building we were held in. The door is still up.
