damn. She just wanted to get away from there. She could hitchhike if she had to, stop a police car … anything … the tears were caked on her face, and she was breathing hard as she began to run, and then suddenly bright headlights shone on her and she ran harder knowing instinctively that he was coming after her. She could hear his tires on the gravel road, and she began to dart in and out of the trees, crying softly, as the tears rolled into her hair, as he honked the horn and shouted at her.
“Come on, I'll take you home.”
She didn't answer him. She just kept running as fast as she could, but he wouldn't go away. He just kept driving after her, zigzagging, following her course on the deserted road until finally she turned and screamed hysterically at him. “Leave me alone!” She stood bent over in the road, crying, sobbing, hugging her knees, and slowly he got out of the car and walked toward her. The night air was beginning to sober him, and he looked different than he had before, no longer crazed, but gray and grim, and he had brought his friend along, who was silently watching them from the passenger seat of Billy's long, sleek, dark green XKE.
“I'll drive you home.” He stood in the road, legs spread, the car headlights behind him glaring eerily at them. “Come on, Tan.”
“Don't call me that.” She looked like a frightened little girl. He had never even been her friend, and now … and now … she wanted to scream each time she thought of it, but now she couldn't even scream anymore, and she no longer had the strength to run away from him. Her whole body ached, her head pounded, there was dried blood over her face and on her thighs, and now she stared blankly at him, stumbling along the road, as he reached out and tried to grab her arm, and she screamed at him and darted away again. He stood and stared at her for a moment, and then got back in the car and drove off. He had offered to take her home, if she didn't want to go, to hell with her, and she stumbled along the road, aching from head to foot. Not twenty minutes later he was back again. He screeched to a halt beside her, got out, and grabbed her by the arm. She saw that the other boy was no longer in the car, and suddenly she wondered if he was going to rape her again. A wave of terror ran through her as he pulled her toward the car, and she pulled away, but this time he jerked her hard and shouted at her, and she could smell whiskey on his breath again.
“Goddammit, I told you I'd take you home. Now get in the fuckin' car!” He almost threw her onto the seat, and she realized that there was no arguing with him. She was alone with him, and he would do whatever he wanted with her. She had already learned that. She sat bleakly beside him in the XKE, and he roared off into the night, as she waited for him to take her somewhere else to rape her again, it all seemed so hopeless now. But he got on the highway, sank his foot to the floor, and the breeze whipping through the car seemed to sober both of them. He glanced over at her several times, and waved at a box of tissues on the floor. “You'd better clean yourself up before you go home.”
“Why?” She looked straight ahead at the empty road. It was after two o'clock, and even her eyes felt numb. Only a few trucks went whizzing by, driving straight through the night.
“You can't go home like that.” She didn't answer him, and she didn't turn to look at his face. She still half expected him to stop and try to rape her again, and this time she was expecting it. She would run as fast as she could, across the highway if she dared and maybe one of the trucks would stop. She still couldn't believe what he had done to her, and she was wondering now if it had somehow been her fault, had she not fought him hard enough, had she done something to encourage him … ? they were hideous thoughts as she noticed the powerful sports car begin to weave. She turned and glanced at him, and noticed that he was
“Come on, I'll take you home.”
She didn't answer him. She just kept running as fast as she could, but he wouldn't go away. He just kept driving after her, zigzagging, following her course on the deserted road until finally she turned and screamed hysterically at him. “Leave me alone!” She stood bent over in the road, crying, sobbing, hugging her knees, and slowly he got out of the car and walked toward her. The night air was beginning to sober him, and he looked different than he had before, no longer crazed, but gray and grim, and he had brought his friend along, who was silently watching them from the passenger seat of Billy's long, sleek, dark green XKE.
“I'll drive you home.” He stood in the road, legs spread, the car headlights behind him glaring eerily at them. “Come on, Tan.”
“Don't call me that.” She looked like a frightened little girl. He had never even been her friend, and now … and now … she wanted to scream each time she thought of it, but now she couldn't even scream anymore, and she no longer had the strength to run away from him. Her whole body ached, her head pounded, there was dried blood over her face and on her thighs, and now she stared blankly at him, stumbling along the road, as he reached out and tried to grab her arm, and she screamed at him and darted away again. He stood and stared at her for a moment, and then got back in the car and drove off. He had offered to take her home, if she didn't want to go, to hell with her, and she stumbled along the road, aching from head to foot. Not twenty minutes later he was back again. He screeched to a halt beside her, got out, and grabbed her by the arm. She saw that the other boy was no longer in the car, and suddenly she wondered if he was going to rape her again. A wave of terror ran through her as he pulled her toward the car, and she pulled away, but this time he jerked her hard and shouted at her, and she could smell whiskey on his breath again.
“Goddammit, I told you I'd take you home. Now get in the fuckin' car!” He almost threw her onto the seat, and she realized that there was no arguing with him. She was alone with him, and he would do whatever he wanted with her. She had already learned that. She sat bleakly beside him in the XKE, and he roared off into the night, as she waited for him to take her somewhere else to rape her again, it all seemed so hopeless now. But he got on the highway, sank his foot to the floor, and the breeze whipping through the car seemed to sober both of them. He glanced over at her several times, and waved at a box of tissues on the floor. “You'd better clean yourself up before you go home.”
“Why?” She looked straight ahead at the empty road. It was after two o'clock, and even her eyes felt numb. Only a few trucks went whizzing by, driving straight through the night.
“You can't go home like that.” She didn't answer him, and she didn't turn to look at his face. She still half expected him to stop and try to rape her again, and this time she was expecting it. She would run as fast as she could, across the highway if she dared and maybe one of the trucks would stop. She still couldn't believe what he had done to her, and she was wondering now if it had somehow been her fault, had she not fought him hard enough, had she done something to encourage him … ? they were hideous thoughts as she noticed the powerful sports car begin to weave. She turned and glanced at him, and noticed that he was
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