Second Chance by Tim Lahaye, Jerry B. Jenkins Page B

happened.
    Then there came Lionel, bounding out of the house with a big duffel bag over his shoulder. Ryan convinced himself that Lionel could be running only because someone was after him. A stranger. A bad guy. Someone with a knife or a gun. And Lionel was leading whoever that was right to Ryan. He didn’t even take the time to mount his bike. He just ran off as fast as he could.
    He had been doing a lot of that lately.

SEVEN
Crises
    V ICKI felt awkward when Judd pulled into the driveway of his big suburban home. She had been in a house that size only twice before, both times for parties. She hadn’t felt comfortable then either. But this was different. There was no party here. There was no one here but the two of them. When was the last time she had been alone with a teenage boy without winding up drinking, smoking, doing dope, or worse?
    Judd seemed nervous, showing her around, telling her she could stay in the guest bedroom downstairs while he would keep his room upstairs. “Doesn’t it give you the creeps to stay so close to where the rest of your family used to be?” she asked.
    “A little,” he said. “But I have no choice. Where else would I go?”
    Vicki had just been thinking the same thing. She didn’t say so. All she said was, “I hate to ask, but do you have anything to eat around here?”
    “Name it,” Judd said. “We have anything and everything you want.”
    Vicki and Judd raided the refrigerator and ate well. She noticed he was as heavy-eyed as she was. “I don’t like to sleep during the day,” she said. “But I’m going to pass out sitting here if I don’t lie down.”
    Judd pointed to the guest room. “I’m going to sleep too,” he said. “I wouldn’t be surprised if I sleep all day and all night, but I’ve never done that before. More likely, I’ll wake up after seven or eight hours, like I always do.”
    “Me too,” she said. “But I don’t remember ever being so exhausted.”
    “I’d say we’ve been through a lot, wouldn’t you?” he said.
    They both laughed for the first time since they’d known each other.
    Vicki quickly grew serious. She said, “You know, Judd, I’m going to have to ask you to run me somewhere tomorrow so I can get some clothes. I’ll keep track of whatever it costs and pay you back.”
    “No problem,” he said, “but first youought to check my mom’s closet. She was about your size.”
    “Really? What size was she?”
    “I don’t know. She was about your size, that’s all I know.”
    “Wow,” Vicki said. “I hope I’m still thin when I’m her age.”
    “If you believe what Bruce Barnes believes, we haven’t got much more than seven years to live anyway.”
    “Plenty of time to get fat,” Vicki said, shrugging. What kind of a remark was that? She had never engaged in small talk with anyone before. In the past everything she talked about had been centered on what she liked or didn’t like, what she was going to do or not do. She hated talking about normal things—“nothing” things, she always called them. This was the stuff adults and other boring types always talked about.
    “You can have whatever you want of my mom’s stuff,” Judd said. “I mean, she’s obviously not coming back. Will it make you feel weird?”
    “Weird?”
    “Wearing someone else’s clothes, someone who disappeared.”
    “How will you feel seeing me in your mom’s clothes?”
    “I don’t guess I’d mind. You’ll probablywear them differently—I mean, tied up or cut off or tucked in or untucked or whatever.”
    “Yeah, and I hope it will be temporary anyway. I want to get a job and get myself some new stuff.”
    “Sure. But meanwhile . . .”
    “Meanwhile I’ll try to get by if there’s anything that works, so I won’t have to wear dirty clothes.”
    “Good. You want to look for some stuff now, in case you want to change when you get up? I mean, you don’t have to. You look perfectly fine, but you might want some fresh . . .