were 272 miles from Chicago. The gas gauge showed three-quarters full.
“They would’ve killed us,” I said. “The only reason we’re alive is because you did what you had to.”
“He’ll never have a life… I took it from him. We should go to the police.”
She’d have to be in shock to think that was a good idea. “Don’t you remember what happened?” I asked. “Kyle’s old man threatened to make me a missing person. That was before we got Kyle beaten up and made him drop out of school.” I put my hand on her thigh. “Now his son’s dead and he’ll blame us. If the police find us, I can’t even think…”
Allie gripped the wheel tight and cried, her entire body convulsing. Seeing her suffer made me feel sick with guilt. Knowing it was my fault for bringing her into this hurt more than all the beatings I’d ever had. I scanned the cars behind us. “We should leave Detroit… till we figure this out.”
She leaned her elbow on the door. We drove another five miles in silence before she murmured, “Where would we go?”
“Chicago.”
With her eyes reddened and her face streaked with tears, she straightened in her seat. A road sign for the I-94 turn-off came into view. She drew a breath and wiped her eyes. “I have an emergency credit card and a little cash, enough to get us by for a few days. My parents–”
A rhythmic buzz came from her bag on the back seat. She reached behind and lifted her phone. The screen read “Blocked ID.” She tapped the red button and switched her phone off.
I tucked a loose strand of her hair behind her ear and put my hand on her shoulder. “We’ll get through this. I’ll make everything right again. I promise.”
She flicked the indicator and veered onto I-94.
Things would be better in Chicago. If nothing else, we’d be three hundred miles from Drac Valeshnikov and Jack Swindon.
THE END
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Killer of Giants
Copyright © 2017 by Oliver Lockhart
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This is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales, or organizations is entirely coincidental. All rights are reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author.
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