big mouth!
“Is your friend all right? I don’t get bad feelings often, but I got one now. That being said, I don’t make it a habit to stop for strangers, which is why I waited in the car before comin’ out to greet you. ’Course if I woulda known you’d have a gun aimed at me, I probably would’ve ignored my gut and kept on driving.”
Emery could see the wind tossing the woman’s grey-black hair. Through the hazy window, she could make out one of her eyes. It had a dark color to it, but there was something soothing in its material. Still, the nerves in Emery’s wrist wouldn’t quit.
“Listen, if you want me to go, I’ll go. Just tell me you’re gonna be okay, and I’ll let this sleeping dog lie.”
“We’ll be fine! Get outta here!”
“All right.” She saw the woman nod and saunter back toward the Suburban. Emery glanced at the fuel gauge, swallowed hard, and touched Adam’s icy hand.
A split second. Then another. The stranger was about to drive off and leave them here. Could she let that happen? Still no pulse in Adam’s wrist. Could she just let him die like this and not even try?
Emery turned off the car and moved out of her seat. Seconds later, the passenger door flung open, and she raced around the front of the Firebird. “Wait!”
The woman got a good look at Emery. “What happened to you?” she asked, deeply concerned. “Did somebody hurt you?”
Emery watched her breath trail away as she nodded slowly.
“And your friend? Is your friend hurt too?”
Emery’s eyebrows bent in, and intense stress wrinkled the top of her face. She wondered if she’d be able to say the next part without tearing up. “He’s not breathing.”
She was wrong about the tears. Dead wrong.
“Good Lord, child.” The woman studied Emery from head to foot, pausing for a brief moment at the weapon still lodged tightly in her grip. “We need to get him to a doctor, then. Maybe there’s still t—”
“No doctors. No hospitals.”
“But this is an emergency. If he’s in bad shape, he needs medical attention.”
“We can’t.” Emery kept looking in both directions, just waiting for someone who worked for the asylum to speed past. “Maybe he’ll wake up. We just need shelter until this storm passes.”
The woman hesitated. “I don’t like the sound of this, but I suppose I can take you in for a bit. I’m no doctor, though I’ve stitched up some cuts in my day. I think I got some medicine back at the cabin.”
“Look, we need to be careful. The ones who hurt us… They may come back.” Emery’s arm began to tremble. She raised her hands toward her head and lightly smacked her temple with the mouth of the gun.
The gesture seemed to get the message across. “It’s okay. I get it. No authorities,” the woman caved. “Just put that thing down. You don’t need it around me.”
Emery blinked then lowered the gun with a shiver.
“Let’s get you both warm.” The woman opened the driver’s side door and found Adam’s small body. “Scrawny little fella, isn’t he? I hope there’s still time,” she said under her breath, but Emery could hear. “My cabin’s about fifteen minutes south. You’ll be safe.”
Emery nodded, the tears refusing to relinquish control of her emotions. “He’ll be okay, right? He has to be okay.”
The woman’s eyes betrayed her when her hands soaked up some of the blood from Adam’s wounds. She lifted his body off the seat and carried him to her vehicle. “Open the trunk doors for me, dear. I’ll lay him down in the back with some blankets.”
“He’s so pale,” was all Emery managed to say. When she opened the trunk doors, she was silent.
“There you go,” the kind stranger said, gently placing Adam in the back and wiping her hands on her pant leg. She moved a bag of groceries, some tool boxes, and a rubber mallet aside before wrapping his limp body in blankets that smelled like her grandfather’s house. A smell Emery hadn’t encountered
“Is your friend all right? I don’t get bad feelings often, but I got one now. That being said, I don’t make it a habit to stop for strangers, which is why I waited in the car before comin’ out to greet you. ’Course if I woulda known you’d have a gun aimed at me, I probably would’ve ignored my gut and kept on driving.”
Emery could see the wind tossing the woman’s grey-black hair. Through the hazy window, she could make out one of her eyes. It had a dark color to it, but there was something soothing in its material. Still, the nerves in Emery’s wrist wouldn’t quit.
“Listen, if you want me to go, I’ll go. Just tell me you’re gonna be okay, and I’ll let this sleeping dog lie.”
“We’ll be fine! Get outta here!”
“All right.” She saw the woman nod and saunter back toward the Suburban. Emery glanced at the fuel gauge, swallowed hard, and touched Adam’s icy hand.
A split second. Then another. The stranger was about to drive off and leave them here. Could she let that happen? Still no pulse in Adam’s wrist. Could she just let him die like this and not even try?
Emery turned off the car and moved out of her seat. Seconds later, the passenger door flung open, and she raced around the front of the Firebird. “Wait!”
The woman got a good look at Emery. “What happened to you?” she asked, deeply concerned. “Did somebody hurt you?”
Emery watched her breath trail away as she nodded slowly.
“And your friend? Is your friend hurt too?”
Emery’s eyebrows bent in, and intense stress wrinkled the top of her face. She wondered if she’d be able to say the next part without tearing up. “He’s not breathing.”
She was wrong about the tears. Dead wrong.
“Good Lord, child.” The woman studied Emery from head to foot, pausing for a brief moment at the weapon still lodged tightly in her grip. “We need to get him to a doctor, then. Maybe there’s still t—”
“No doctors. No hospitals.”
“But this is an emergency. If he’s in bad shape, he needs medical attention.”
“We can’t.” Emery kept looking in both directions, just waiting for someone who worked for the asylum to speed past. “Maybe he’ll wake up. We just need shelter until this storm passes.”
The woman hesitated. “I don’t like the sound of this, but I suppose I can take you in for a bit. I’m no doctor, though I’ve stitched up some cuts in my day. I think I got some medicine back at the cabin.”
“Look, we need to be careful. The ones who hurt us… They may come back.” Emery’s arm began to tremble. She raised her hands toward her head and lightly smacked her temple with the mouth of the gun.
The gesture seemed to get the message across. “It’s okay. I get it. No authorities,” the woman caved. “Just put that thing down. You don’t need it around me.”
Emery blinked then lowered the gun with a shiver.
“Let’s get you both warm.” The woman opened the driver’s side door and found Adam’s small body. “Scrawny little fella, isn’t he? I hope there’s still time,” she said under her breath, but Emery could hear. “My cabin’s about fifteen minutes south. You’ll be safe.”
Emery nodded, the tears refusing to relinquish control of her emotions. “He’ll be okay, right? He has to be okay.”
The woman’s eyes betrayed her when her hands soaked up some of the blood from Adam’s wounds. She lifted his body off the seat and carried him to her vehicle. “Open the trunk doors for me, dear. I’ll lay him down in the back with some blankets.”
“He’s so pale,” was all Emery managed to say. When she opened the trunk doors, she was silent.
“There you go,” the kind stranger said, gently placing Adam in the back and wiping her hands on her pant leg. She moved a bag of groceries, some tool boxes, and a rubber mallet aside before wrapping his limp body in blankets that smelled like her grandfather’s house. A smell Emery hadn’t encountered
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