Page 72
Story: Survive the Night
That’s the real reason she needed to leave Olyphantimmediately. Why she couldn’t wait until Thanksgiving or when Robbie was free. Why she went to the ride board and put up that flyer and jumped at the chance to share a ride with Josh.
Charlie was afraid that if nothing changed, she’d experience another unfortunate accident, this time with a different result.
But as the shame and sadness of that morning come back to her, she knows the truth.
None of it was accidental.
For a brief, soul-shaking moment, she would have preferred to die than spend one more minute weighed down by her guilt.
Now, though, she wants to live. More than anything.
“I’m glad that didn’t happen,” Josh says. “And I’m sorry we didn’t get to meet under different circumstances. I think I would have liked that.”
Charlie stays silent. It’s better to do that than admit she feels the same way. There were points in this drive when she actuallylikedJosh, before suspicion and fear kicked in. She felt a kinship with him, probably because he’s as much of an outcast as she is. Lonely, too. She can tell that even now. Like recognizes like. In a weird, twisted way, Josh seems to understand her better than even Maddy sometimes did.
Or maybe it’s simply Maddy who makes her feel tied to Josh. There’s a reason Josh chose her to be one of his victims. Perhaps he was drawn to Maddy for the same reasons Charlie was. And it’s possible that’s another reason she got back into the car with him at the diner, even though it defied logic and reason.
She wants to know why.
Why Josh picked Maddy.
Why he approached her outside the bar.
Why he decided to kill her.
But instead of trying to articulate all that, Charlie lets the silence grow. It fills the car, uneasy, the two of them never taking their eyes off the road, which seems to have narrowed. On both sides, the forestpresses in close. Bare branches arc overhead, connecting like elderly couples holding hands. Bits of snow still sit in the evergreens. Occasional clumps of it drop from the branches and hit the roof of the car with a muffled thump.
“So what now?” Charlie eventually says.
“We drive.”
“But not to Ohio.”
“No, Charlie. I’m afraid not.”
“What’s going to happen when the driving stops?”
“I think you already know the answer.”
Charlie’s fingers again curl around the knife in her pocket. This time, they stay that way. Gripping it tight. As ready as she’ll ever be.
“Maybe you should stop driving now,” she says.
Josh gives her a look. “You sure you want that?”
“No,” Charlie says. “But I’ve gone through a lot of things I didn’t want.”
“Like what happened to your parents.”
“Yes. And Maddy.”
Charlie finally senses it—the hardening of her heart she’s been waiting for. All it took was saying Maddy’s name out loud to the man who killed her. Yet it feels nothing like what she experienced in the movies in her mind. She’s angry, yes, but also sad. So exhaustingly sad.
“Yes,” Josh says. “And your—”
A deer suddenly leaps into the road, right in front of the car, the headlights making its eyes glow.
Josh pounds the brakes, and Charlie’s jerked forward a sliver of a second before the seat belt locks and yanks her back. Her head snaps against the back of the seat. Beside her, Josh cuts the wheel to the right, trying to avoid the deer. The animal springs across the road and into the woods, but the car keeps moving. Fishtailing at first, then rotating, the back of the Grand Am whipping in an arc across the road.
Charlie was afraid that if nothing changed, she’d experience another unfortunate accident, this time with a different result.
But as the shame and sadness of that morning come back to her, she knows the truth.
None of it was accidental.
For a brief, soul-shaking moment, she would have preferred to die than spend one more minute weighed down by her guilt.
Now, though, she wants to live. More than anything.
“I’m glad that didn’t happen,” Josh says. “And I’m sorry we didn’t get to meet under different circumstances. I think I would have liked that.”
Charlie stays silent. It’s better to do that than admit she feels the same way. There were points in this drive when she actuallylikedJosh, before suspicion and fear kicked in. She felt a kinship with him, probably because he’s as much of an outcast as she is. Lonely, too. She can tell that even now. Like recognizes like. In a weird, twisted way, Josh seems to understand her better than even Maddy sometimes did.
Or maybe it’s simply Maddy who makes her feel tied to Josh. There’s a reason Josh chose her to be one of his victims. Perhaps he was drawn to Maddy for the same reasons Charlie was. And it’s possible that’s another reason she got back into the car with him at the diner, even though it defied logic and reason.
She wants to know why.
Why Josh picked Maddy.
Why he approached her outside the bar.
Why he decided to kill her.
But instead of trying to articulate all that, Charlie lets the silence grow. It fills the car, uneasy, the two of them never taking their eyes off the road, which seems to have narrowed. On both sides, the forestpresses in close. Bare branches arc overhead, connecting like elderly couples holding hands. Bits of snow still sit in the evergreens. Occasional clumps of it drop from the branches and hit the roof of the car with a muffled thump.
“So what now?” Charlie eventually says.
“We drive.”
“But not to Ohio.”
“No, Charlie. I’m afraid not.”
“What’s going to happen when the driving stops?”
“I think you already know the answer.”
Charlie’s fingers again curl around the knife in her pocket. This time, they stay that way. Gripping it tight. As ready as she’ll ever be.
“Maybe you should stop driving now,” she says.
Josh gives her a look. “You sure you want that?”
“No,” Charlie says. “But I’ve gone through a lot of things I didn’t want.”
“Like what happened to your parents.”
“Yes. And Maddy.”
Charlie finally senses it—the hardening of her heart she’s been waiting for. All it took was saying Maddy’s name out loud to the man who killed her. Yet it feels nothing like what she experienced in the movies in her mind. She’s angry, yes, but also sad. So exhaustingly sad.
“Yes,” Josh says. “And your—”
A deer suddenly leaps into the road, right in front of the car, the headlights making its eyes glow.
Josh pounds the brakes, and Charlie’s jerked forward a sliver of a second before the seat belt locks and yanks her back. Her head snaps against the back of the seat. Beside her, Josh cuts the wheel to the right, trying to avoid the deer. The animal springs across the road and into the woods, but the car keeps moving. Fishtailing at first, then rotating, the back of the Grand Am whipping in an arc across the road.
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