It was just as bad inside the house. The moving boxes were ripped open, clothing pulled out, dishes broken, pots and pans tossed, as though someone had been searching for jewelry or money, electronics. Any items they could sell. Other things were missing too, but they weren’t of value to a normal thief, and the police wouldn’t notice. Candles, batteries, flashlights, glue, string, water bottles, a few photo albums. The large framed photos I’d have to leave behind.
After Jonny and I had checked the miner’s cabin to make sure it was still standing, we’d rushed to get everything ready. Vaughn had begun to make noise about me sleeping in my own room, and eventually Lana was going to relent. Now that I’d packed Dad’s things, they were planning on holding an estate sale soon and storing my personal stuff in their garage. I was out of time.
During the week, Jonny went without me and stocked the cabin with supplies. It took him a few trips with his dad’s quad and a trailer. He used his own money until he could sell my items.
Jonny and I planned the fake robbery for a day when Lana was taking Cash to a birthday party and Vaughn was giving a safety talk. Lana dropped me off with a few boxes to collect the last of the apples in the orchard. I’d told her that they made the best applesauce.
They’d think that the house was robbed the night before, and that I didn’t notice right away that the front door was ajar because I was in the yard collecting apples. Meanwhile, Jonny had been moving things out, starting at dawn, when he rolled my dirt bike, Dad’s quad, and his dirt bike into the gulley at the back of the property. After dark, he’d pick them up with his truck. Then he’d take Dad’s bikes to a guy he knew who’d break them into parts and sell them. Same with Dad’s power tools, watches, and Mom’s jewelry. Jonny was going to file the serial number off my bike, paint it camouflage, and hide it partway up the mountain.
No way was I selling Dad’s guns. Three rifles, two shotguns, and Dad’s favorite, his .45 Smith & Wesson handgun. He loved them, and I needed them. Selling guns was too dangerous anyway. Jonny figured we’d get a few thousand for the bikes and tools. The money would be used for supplies and whatever I needed to start a new life in a year.
Jonny had left a few minutes ago after helping me fill the crates with apples. I’d wanted some time alone before making the call to Lana. I opened Amber’s text from this morning. She’d sent me a photo of the sunrise. Do you think the sun ever wishes it could sleep in?
LOL. Maybe? I wish I could see a sunrise with you.
Me too. I miss you.
I let myself read over the conversation one more time, then I closed my messages and sat on the floor in the corner where Mom’s easel used to stand—Dad said she liked the light from the window. The floor was dotted with bits of paint. I brushed my fingertips over the smooth bumps. When I walked out the door today, it would be the last time I’d be here, in our house, the last time I’d be close to my parents. My throat thickened, and I wanted to stop everything. I wanted to force Lana to let me keep my home. But it was no use. I couldn’t make the mortgage payments.
I took a few quick breaths, so I would sound rushed, then made the call.
“Lana, my house has been robbed! They took everything—my dirt bike, all Dad’s tools! Someone smashed through the window.” I broke into sobs, drowning out her gasp of shock, her explaining that she would call Vaughn. I ended the call and moved to sit on the couch.
It was a shame that I’d shared all those photos on Instagram. That we didn’t have an alarm. Too bad the lock on the workshop was old and so many people knew the house was vacant.
It could have been anyone. Anyone at all.
* * *
Lana was in the backyard playing with Cash, but she’d check on me soon. I’d spent the night and most of the morning fake-crying about the fake robbery. At the moment I was supposed to be trying to relax and watch TV. Instead, I’d turned it up loud enough to cover the sound of my voice, and I was watching them from the window while I called Amber.
“I have to tell you something.”
“Okay?”
“I’m running away on the weekend, but I can’t tell you where—not yet.”
Silence for a painful heartbeat. She might hate the idea of having to keep a secret, tired of dealing with my drama. There were other girls with less complicated lives.
“You serious?”
“I have to get away from Vaughn.”
“Stay with me.” She sounded upset, her voice husky. I wished I could pack my bags and go to her. I’d seen her basement suite when we FaceTimed, the fresh flowers on the table, a bed strewn with colorful pillows. They would smell like her coconut lotion.
“I have to get out of Cold Creek. I found photos on Vaughn’s computer. Of me, and other girls, naked, but I couldn’t see faces. He has hidden cameras—one might be at the diner.”
“No way.” She hissed the words. “That’s disgusting.”
“I made an anonymous call, but I don’t have any proof. Vaughn threatened me, so you can’t tell anyone. Promise?” Cash was getting off the swing. They were coming inside.
“I promise, but Hailey—”
“I have to go. We can’t text about this. Jonny will get messages to you. You can trust him. I love you.” I ended the call before I realized what I’d said, and heat bloomed in my cheeks.
My cell buzzed in my hand. I looked down.
I love you too.
* * *
Five days later, I left Cash’s favorite red truck on his night table, gave him a soft kiss on his forehead as he slept, and moved sure-footed down the hall. This time Vaughn was on patrol—he worked one night shift a week. As a sergeant he didn’t have to do nights, but he said he wanted the other officers to get a break once in a while. I had a feeling it was for different, more personal reasons. He could check his hidden cameras without being seen, watch women through lit windows.
I was careful to avoid creaky spots on the floor, but I wasn’t too worried about Lana waking up. Tonight I was the one who had made her special cocktails, with a heavy hand. While she enjoyed her drink, I scooped out a bowl of ice cream for Cash, added some Benadryl, then poured chocolate sauce over the top. They would both sleep well.
The robbery had angered Vaughn. He’d questioned me so much that even Lana stepped in when I broke into tears. I wore drab clothes, rarely showered, and spoke as though in a daze. I spent all my time in my room sleeping, watching YouTube, or texting with Amber. We never talked again about my escape plan, but I felt the fear in her messages, asking if I was okay.
I confided in Lana that I was depressed about losing the last connection to my parents. I raged that someone would rob us. I bemoaned the fact that I’d asked them to wait before clearing out the house. Vaughn stopped questioning me and instead asked for an itemized list of stolen items for the insurance company. I delayed—said it made me too upset, I couldn’t remember everything, I was working on it, promise. They called a real estate agent and put the house up for sale. That night I skipped dinner and went to sleep at the same time as Cash. There was no more talk of me moving back into my room, but I heard loud whispers. They were fighting. Maybe Lana would be relieved that I was gone. She and Vaughn could get back to dancing in the kitchen.
It was time. I slipped my bag over my shoulders, walked straight out the front door, and texted Jonny like we’d planned.
I’m going to run away.
Don’t be crazy.
I hate Vaughn. He doesn’t let me do anything.
Come to the lake. We’ll talk, ok?
Text you later. Battery dying.
I shut off my phone. After I was reported missing, the cops would pull my records and see that my cell had stopped pinging when I was still in town. Jonny was camping at the lake with friends. He’d take selfies with them and post them on Facebook, so they were time-stamped, and he’d make sure he was never alone. Later tonight, he’d message me asking if I was okay, and in the morning, when he hadn’t heard from me, he would call Lana. Then it wou
ld begin.
Everyone would think I’d left town because I wasn’t happy. Jonny, hopefully, wouldn’t get in trouble, but Vaughn would watch him closely. He’d expect me to get in touch with Jonny.
Amber was working at the diner, then she was also going out to the lake. People would see her there. If the police read our text exchanges, there was nothing that would make Vaughn suspicious that I’d told her about the photos. Just more proof that I was miserable.
I biked to the corner store, bought some chocolate bars, a can of Coke, and a bag of jerky so that I was on their surveillance camera. Then I pedaled down the side streets as though I were going to the bus station—in case any of the houses had CCTV—but then I turned onto the dark forest trails. I followed those until I reached Cooper’s farm, the last big piece of private property on the way to the highway. After that it was all owned by logging companies or the province.
I left the bike at the edge of the lower field and walked the rest of the way to the barn, climbing or crawling under fences, and trying not to startle the animals. One of the dogs began barking, and I whistled high and clear. Soon a wiggling body came out to bump against my leg, then two more. Relieved that they remembered me from my past visits, I dropped my sack and pulled out the smoked salmon I’d pilfered from Lana’s freezer. It was store-bought and probably farmed salmon, dyed red, but the dogs didn’t seem to care. They greedily inhaled their strips and begged for more. I stroked the soft fur around the neck of the mama dog and let her lick my fingers clean. Her teats were full and swayed below her belly. She was still nursing.
Two of the dogs drifted away from me and around the corner, back to their beds on the farmhouse porch. I followed the mama dog through the side door into the barn, dimming the flashlight I was carrying to a soft glow so I could see where she was going. Her puppies were in one of the stalls. She flopped down as I fussed and cooed over the warm bodies. Six of them altogether.
I couldn’t take a nursing puppy from its mom. I sat on my heels, disappointed. The puppies bumbled over each other. In the corner, another dog was watching me. One blue eye, one brown, mouth parted in a smile. He looked young, with bright white teeth, and skinny. Maybe around forty pounds, the size of a border collie. He was shaggy, with unkempt black fur and tufted ears. His chest had a blaze of white and one of his back paws was dipped in white.
I didn’t recognize him. He must be new. Lots of Cooper’s dogs were dumped on the farm by people who didn’t want them anymore, or were strays who made their own way over from the First Nations reservation, drawn by the animals and the other dogs. Cooper was a mean old man in a lot of ways, but every animal on his farm was always well fed.
“Hi,” I whispered. “Want a treat?”
He padded over, ignoring the younger puppies, who wanted to play. He lifted his head away from one cheeky boy who was trying to grab his ear, and stepped over another.
When I reached out, he cautiously sniffed the palm of my hand, then sat and looked up at me with his head cocked like he was waiting for me to explain myself.
I offered him a piece of salmon. He delicately tugged it away from my fingers, his eyes watching me carefully while his soft lips grazed my skin. When he took it to the corner to eat, I walked to the barn door. The young dog raised his head and watched me.
“You want to come?” I patted my leg and made a kissing sound.
He didn’t move. His tail didn’t wag, and he didn’t wiggle his body. He just stared, the one blue eye shining. I made more kissing sounds. He lay down with his head on his paws.
“Okay, boy. I can take a hint.”
* * *
I watched for trucks and cars on the highway, hid in the ditch as they passed. Another hairpin corner, and I’d reached the long straight stretch before the billboard. I paused on the shoulder of the bridge, where Vaughn had picked me up the night of the lake party. I looked over the edge. The ravine plummeted almost straight down, and a creek ran through the culvert below. The woods were snarled and rocky. There were no trails. One more glance over my shoulder, and I lifted my bike, flung it over the cement barrier, and listened as it bounced down the side of the ravine.
I climbed over the edge, slid down part of the bank on my butt, holding on to roots and outcropping rocks to slow my descent. Rocks sliced my palms, gouged at the soft skin of my arms. At the bottom I found my bike. It was scraped and dented, but still worked. I hid it in the bushes, covered it with branches and debris. I’d come back for it after everything settled.
I pushed my way through the bushes and scrambled over logs and boulders until I reached a small clearing on the edge of the creek. Balanced on a wet rock, I took off my shoes, and tied them by their laces to my backpack. The water numbed my ankles as I began to hike west. My bare foot slipped on a rock, and I lurched to the side, throwing out my arms. Something fell with a splash. I checked my shoes on my backpack. Still attached. I felt my hoodie pocket. My phone! The one Dad bought me for my sixteenth birthday. He’d picked out the case, silver, with stars and moons. My photos were on my iCloud, but that phone meant something.
I shone my flashlight into the creek. I couldn’t see through the current. I ran my hand over the dark rocks, the stones. The water turned my arms to ice up to my elbows.
A vehicle went by on the highway above. I switched off the flashlight, panicked that Vaughn had figured it out, but the truck kept driving, and soon I couldn’t hear it anymore.
I had to keep walking. I moved slowly, while scanning the creek with my flashlight for deep areas and logs that could trip me. The only sound was the soft trickle of the current. I would wade up the creek for a few miles until it joined the river. Then I’d follow the rocky shoreline, and when I reached the logging roads, I’d walk east until I found my dirt bike.
The staged robbery was the last time I’d seen Jonny. We’d stood in the woods, his truck loaded, and we could barely look at one another. We’d never said goodbye before. Not like this. He punched me on the shoulder. I called him a loser. For a moment he looked scared.
“You won’t be at my next race.”
“You’re going to do great.”
“No one else knows when I’m freaking out.”
“You haven’t puked before a race in two years.”
“Who am I going to talk to?” He didn’t mean for the daily stuff—he had a lot of friends. This was about the two sides of Jonny. The one who could take jumps without thinking, and the other one, who was terrified of snakes and bats. Who felt embarrassed when people were kind to him and kept a change of clothes in his truck because he didn’t want anyone to think he was a dirty farmer. The Jonny who’d had his heart broken twice. I’d hated both girls fiercely.
“Whatever. The motocross bunnies are all going to fight for the job.”
“Yeah. Whatever, lame-ass.” He gave me his sideways grin. Back to being cool Jonny.
“Don’t forget. Two weeks.”
We would meet on the mountain at a spot where we had camped with my dad last summer. By then the initial searches should have ended. There might be posters up at the bus station and places like that, but I’d be just another runaway. A statistic. Gone without a trace.
CHAPTER 10
I broke out of the woods onto the gravel and paused to catch my breath. I’d followed animal paths along the river and stuck to areas where the foliage wasn’t as dense, so there was less risk of breaking plants and branches. I’d climbed rocky slopes and crossed clear-cuts thick with dried slash—tree limbs, tops, bark, and brambles tangled among the debris—and I was exhausted, my legs weak from the earlier rush of adrenaline that had come and gone. I took off my hoodie, tied it around my waist. I already felt cooler in just my camo T-shirt and black leggings.
Moonlight lit up the logging road, turning it a ghostly silver. I followed it to the right, walking along the shoulder where the gravel was packed down. The forest was quiet, with only the usual nighttime sounds, the scurrying of mice, the soft who of an owl, but then: A diffe
rent sound behind me. Rustling. Cracking branches. Something was traveling through the bushes.
I froze.
I turned slowly, shining my flashlight around the underbrush. It picked up a glint of eyes. A shadow. The shape moved, darted behind a tree. Flash of a tail. A cougar? My heart hammered against my rib cage. No. They stalked their prey. You didn’t hear a cougar until it was too late. A wolf. It could be young and hungry. Desperate. The hair at the back of my neck prickled.
With one hand I removed the knife from my belt, while with my other I shone the flashlight into the woods, moving it back and forth. A noise on the other side of me. I twisted, aimed the light. Nothing. I held my breath. Minutes passed. Maybe I’d scared it off. I began walking again, then stopped when the glowing eyes appeared in the middle of the road directly ahead of me.
I gripped the knife and moved into a fighting stance. “Get out of here!” I wanted to sound big and ferocious, but my voice quavered. What was it? Was it going to attack?
The shape rushed toward me. I screamed. Then I saw the white strip of fur, the floppy ears. I lowered the knife, letting my breath out in a long exhalation.
“Jesus, dog. I thought you were a wolf!” The dog trotted to my front and sat down, stared at my pocket, and then back at my face.
“You have got to be kidding me. You tracked me for salmon?”
The dog looked at my pocket again, made a soft grumbling whine.
“I don’t have any more.” I looked down the road. If he’d followed my route on the highway and then through the woods, he might have left paw prints arrowing straight to me.
“Go home.” I made a sweeping motion with my hand. He didn’t budge. I clapped loudly. He lifted a furry ear and studied my face. I stomped my feet, raised my arms. “Get out of here!”
The dog startled, danced back, and then shot into the woods. I stayed for a moment, listening. I couldn’t hear him. Hopefully he was running back to the farm.
Dark Roads Page 9
