Run

She’s right. There’s a chance the police from that town are still looking for the two girls who got into the fight at the street fair last night. And my black eye would be an easy way to recognize us now. We’re lucky this road seems to be just as deserted and unused as I’d hoped.

I take Utah for a quick walk through the woods, letting her sniff around for a few minutes before she finally pees. Then she looks at me with big, expecting eyes, and I gotta look away. Because I ain’t got a thing to feed her.

“Don’t worry,” Agnes says, reading my mind as I climb back into the Reliant K. “We’ll be at your daddy’s in a few hours. Once we get the money from him, we can stop by a pet store.”

We’ll be at my daddy’s in a few hours.

That nauseous feeling in my stomach, the one I’ve been fighting for days, gets worse all of a sudden. And it don’t get any better as the ride goes on.

Agnes is feeling good. Smiling and laughing and talking about our future, even as I try to hold back the panic burps that keep rising in my throat.

“I had a real nice dream last night,” she says once we’re a good hour into the day’s drive. “We’d found this little apartment and we had Utah and a cat, like we talked about yesterday. And you were working at a bookstore, and you kept bringing home books to read. And Colt came to visit. Doesn’t that sound nice?”

“Yeah … sure does.”

“Anyway, it got me thinking,” she says, “where do you think we ought to live? Once we get the money, I mean.”

“Um …” I focus on the turn, my hands tight on the steering wheel. “I dunno.”

“The mountains seem nice. And a little one-bedroom might not be too expensive. And if we can get to your daddy’s house today, we could start looking tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah … maybe.”

“We might have our own place this time tomorrow.” She laughs. A big, loud laugh that startles me a little. “Sorry, I just … I never thought I’d get to live anywhere but Mursey. Hell, I never thought I’d get out of my parents’ house. This might not be the way I wanted to go about doing it, but I’m just … I’m excited.”

In the rearview mirror, I can see that my face has gone green.

“We’ll fill a bookshelf with nothing but poetry. Maybe we could even paint the walls. I’ve always liked the idea of painting my bedroom blue.”

“Agnes …”

“I know, I know. I’m getting ahead of myself. We don’t have the money for all that yet. And it’s probably gonna be real tough until we both turn eighteen, since we’ll have to keep our heads down. But still. It’s nice to think about, you know? To have something nice to look forward to.”

I swallow hard and take a few deep breaths, trying to settle my stomach. The mountains are up ahead, round and misty and bluish gray. Like smoke drifting closer and closer.

“I know it’s gonna be tough,” she goes on. “I’ve never had to rough it before, and it’s gonna be a challenge. But, honestly? It just … It feels so good to be free. To not have Mama and Daddy breathing down my neck, panicking over everything I do.” She reaches across the console and grabs my hand. “But we’re gonna be all right. Just you and me.”

I swerve into the parking lot of a gas station so fast that the tires squeal. Utah slides across the backseat with a yelp, and Agnes gasps. I slam my foot on the brakes, barely missing another car. We ain’t even in a real parking spot when we come to a stop.

I barely hear Agnes say, “What are we doing?” before I shove open the car door, lean out, and throw up on the pavement.

“Oh my God! Bo?”

I sit up and wipe my mouth with the back of my hand.

“Did you just throw up?” Agnes asks.

“Yeah.”

“Are you okay?”

“Fine.” I lean back in the seat, closing my eyes for just a second. “Must’ve just ate something bad.”

“The barbecue last night? We ate the same things. And I feel all right.”

“I dunno, then. But I’m fine.” I shut the door and shift gears, backing the car up so we’re in line with the gas pump.

“What are we doing?” she asks.

“We’re almost out of gas. And we should probably grab something to eat.”

“Do we have the money?”

“I got a little left.”

We both climb out of the car, and I roll down a window for Utah. Agnes leans against the side of the Reliant while I pump, still talking about the apartment we’ll get once we find Daddy. I don’t hear much of what she says, but I nod along anyway.

I don’t fill the tank. We ain’t got the funds for that. But I give us just enough to hopefully get the beat-up car the rest of the way. I put the nozzle back and start walking toward the little convenience store. Agnes walks next to me, her cane dragging across the pavement.

“We ought to get something for the dog, too,” Agnes says once we’re inside.

There’s a loud air conditioner blasting and the man behind the counter’s got the local news on a tiny black-and-white TV. The store’s real small. There ain’t much in the way of people food, never mind dog food.

“Guess we could get something to share with her.”

“Like what?”

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