Alone

Chapter 11

Riley

Dad sees me, and I know I only have a minute. As one, Peter, Chloe and I head for the back door. I hear shouting behind us, both Dad and Uncle Simon, but I don't stop to see what's going on. I head for the Bronco, hoping that Dad followed us through the house. The front door is hanging open, but no one is in sight, and we make it to the Bronco without incident. The engine roars as I start it, and Chloe, then Peter, scramble in the passenger door and across the seat. Both doors slam in unison and I rush to throw the gearshift into reverse. Dad breaks around the corner of the house just as I spin wheels out of the driveway. I back to the other side of the street, then go forward. Dad's Ford is parked beside the driveway, and as I roll forward, turning the wheel as hard as I can, the grille guard on the Bronco clips the very end of the Powerstroke's bed. I cringe. By the time I take the right onto the highway, Dad has turned his pickup around and is following. I take the turn at breakneck speed, causing Chloe to draw in a quick gasp of air. When the Bronco stabilizes again, Peter leans forward a bit. "Chloe, do you know anyone in Colorado?" I keep my eyes on the road, taking quick glances at the dash, watching the speedometer climb. Chloe sounds confused. "No. Why?" There is a long minute of silence, and I risk taking my eyes off the road for a minute to glance at Peter. He is biting his lip, staring at the dashboard. I look in the rearview, then wish I hadn't. Dad lost some time at the corner, but he is approaching again. Peter finally answers, sounding defeated. "Dad got the money from someone in Sand Springs." My breath catches in my chest. "What? Are you sure?" "Yeah, I'm sure" I turn my eyes back to the road, stunned. Uncle Simon was my last hope, the only person I know outside of South Branch. I thought maybe he would keep me safe from Dad, but if he gave Joe the money, got Joe to kidnap me, maybe he is as bad as Dad. I concentrate on driving, frowning down at the gas gauge every now and then. As we leave Sand Springs behind, Dad drops back, then disappears. In the next town I stop at the first gas station and quickly fill the tank, keeping a nervous eye on the road as I do. When I finish, I hurry back into the driver's seat of the Bronco and pull back onto the highway, headed east. If Joe got the money from Simon, I can take Chloe back home, where she will be safe. I still don't know what is going to happen to Peter and me, but there is not much I can do about that at the moment. Silence falls over the interior of the Bronco, and I continue to drive east on the highway, crossing the state line in the late afternoon. By the time the fuel warning dings again, I am squinting to see the gauges. I pull up to a gas station with a broken overhead light and fill the tank, exploring the dashboard as it pumps to find the light switch. Just as the pump clicks off, the distinctive turbo whine from a Powerstroke cuts through the dim twilight, and I turn toward the road just in time to watch Dad's Ford roar past the station. Chloe, Peter and I watch the taillights recede into the distance, praying he doesn't hit the brakes and come back. After he has disappeared into the gathering darkness, we pull back out onto the road, following him east, traveling a little slower now that we don't have to worry about him catching up.

As the hours blur, I get lost in the lines on the highway. Chloe falls asleep about an hour in, and her head slumps against my shoulder. I keep the speed steady and stay between the lines, but don't pay much attention other than that. Peter stares out the side window, zoning out just like he did when we were talking about his mom. After what seems like forever, the sky gets lighter and soon, we are driving into the rising sun. The fuel light dings again somewhere in Missouri, and we stop in another tiny town to fill up. I am exhausted, but I keep on driving. South Branch is not that far away now. Peter has fallen asleep against the door by the time we cross the Tennessee border, and Chloe is watching eagerly out the windshield, probably searching for familiar territory. The sun is fully overhead by the time we cross the town limits of South Branch, and Chloe directs me toward her house by pointing her finger when I need to turn. Her street is crowded with vehicles. Black and white police cruisers compete with the varied civilian cars in a rainbow of colors. There is no room to park, so I stop in the middle of the road in front of the house Chloe indicates, an enormous gray house with pillars and ivy. The windows that face the street are all covered, but the front door is open and there are people on the porch. People are starting to look at the Bronco by the time it stops, and someone recognizes Chloe, shouts her name, and comes running off the porch. Peter sits up, blinking himself awake.