The Escape

Chapter Four

 Chapter Four:

    There I see her frail little body, lying curled up on the ground. Running over to her, I gently roll her over to see if she's okay. Holding her up in a sitting position she stirs. I was planning on asking if she was okay, thinking better of it. That would be stupid. Obviously she's not okay; I sit there thinking to myself, taking in her appearance. She's so skinny the wind could pick her up with the tinniest of breezes and she's got bruises and scrapes all over her sparsely clothed body.

     Her eyes slowly flutter open and look up at me, like a child. Her eyes flash with emotion, first shock before it settles into fear. She starts trembling in my arms and tries crawling away, utterly terrified of me with tears silently streaming down her hollow cheeks. Refusing to let her go, I try futilely to calm her down.

    “Shhh it’s okay. I’m here to help,” I say in the gentlest voice I can muster, so as not to scare her any more than she already is.  “Hey, what’s wrong? What happened to you?”

    Still trying to get away, she doesn’t reply. Fighting my hold on her, she turns her head the direction I had originally came from. Frantically, she starts crawling back towards me, her eyes wide in fear. She looks back up at me again, opening and closing her mouth like a fish like she’s trying to communicate with me but no sound is coming out of her mouth. She puts her hands to her throat realizing she can’t speak. So she points her finger over her shoulder.

    Looking in the direction she’s pointed out to me, I see that little red pickup from earlier, closer now than before, heading in our direction. I raise my eyebrows questioningly to her. In a raspy, barely audible voice, still pointing at the truck, she whispers, “please…We’ve gotta get out here! Now!” She looks like she’s about to panic and has that pleading look that was haunting my earlier thoughts.

    “Why? What’s wrong?”

    “Please!” she pleads, the panic in her voice rising. Trying to get up, she tugs on me. With a lot of obvious effort, she pleads, “Come on! Trust me, you don’t wanna be here when he gets here!” She again tries to stand, but her legs buckle, giving out beneath her.

    Scooping her up in my arms, I feel her all over tremble. I can’t believe how light she is, almost like picking up a child. She looks back over her shoulder.

    “Hurry! He’s getting closer!” she says with tears in her throat.

    “Who is he?!”

    I look over my shoulder while carrying her back to my car, only to notice the same little red pickup still coming our way a little faster now. Why is she so afraid of whoever is in that truck? Running to my car, I quickly open the door and strap her in before running to my side doing the same. Turning on the key in the ignition, my car slowly rumbles to life before sputtering out again. “Come on!”

    Slightly applying pressure on the gas, I again turn the key. The truck is a few feet away, when my car finally roars to life. I throw the gear into drive and peel out, burning rubber, no doubt leaving black tire treads behind. Flying down the road, I check my rear view mirror, not knowing if the truck was following me, or merely headed in the same direction I am. I turn a quick right, and to my astonishment, the little red truck swings in after me.

    Looking over at the girl beside me, I have a million questions. Who is she? What happened to her? Who’s this person in the red pickup? Why is he following us? Why is she so scared of him? Seeing her slumped, unconscious form, I know none of my questions will yet be answered. I don’t even know her name. Crashing back down to earth, I speed up trying to throw this guy off me.