by Sarah Dreher
Jean looked as if she might fall apart any second. Shelby went over to her.
"Thank you," she said. "For all of it."
“Have a good..." Her voice broke.
Shelby took her in her arms and held her for a long time.
The night was solid darkness, broken only by the cones of light from her headlights. Now and then a pair of eyes, low to the ground, glinted from the roadside and disappeared. They were deep in night.
Shelby Camden, once soon-to-be-successful career woman, slinking through the Iowa darkness.
By Indiana, she had stopped looking in the rearview mirror, expecting to see a police car, or even Libby's Cadillac following them. By Illinois, the feeling of running from her life had changed to the feeling she was running toward her future. There'd be plenty of grieving to do down the road. Betrayals to be mourned. Missing Jean—and even her old friends, from when they had been friends. Missing Ray and the friendship they could have had.
But for now there was adventure ahead. With lots of blind alleys and hidden driveways. Beside her, Fran stirred. Her face was ghostly in the green dash light. "Shel?"
“Hmmm."
“You OK?”
"I guess. A little scared."
Fran reached over and touched her. "It'll be OK.”
“I know,” she said without conviction.
"And if it's not, we'll still be together."
Yes, she thought, we'll be together. Together.
"Hey, Shelby?"
“What?”
"Do you like dogs?"
Shelby smiled. "Tremendously."
"What kind?"
"Ratty mutts from the pound."
"Thank God. I was afraid I'd made a terrible mistake in judgment." She shifted, and rested her head against the window.
Shelby glanced over quickly, then focused her attention on her driving. After all, she was carrying precious cargo. She glanced in the rearview mirror, searching for signs of dawn. Only the red glow of her own taillights tinted the darkness.
Safe here in the car. Outside of time and space. She pushed their speed beyond sixty-five, to seventy, seventy-five, carried along in the slip-stream of night. Tomorrow they'd start to look again, the way they had for two days. Is this town big enough to offer jobs? Are there too many conservative churches? What are the people like? What happens if they guess? Should we push on toward California? Questions. Observations. Wonderings.
But tonight there was only the road and the darkness. The low, comforting rumble of tires on asphalt. The glow of the dashboard lights.
The two of them, alone, together, safe in their cocoon of night.
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
