Page 29 of What Doesn't Kill Her
She glanced at her daughter, at the dirty bruised bewildered face, and knew Rae didn’t have a clue. Kellen took a breath and got control of her temper. “We don’t have your car seat. If I’d known you were coming, I would have brought it, but since you surprised me, you should slide up there and buckle your seat belt.”
“I need my car seat. If I can’t see out the window, I’ll vomit.”
Of course you will.In a soft coaxing voice that hid an overflow of worry and irritation, Kellen said, “Sit on your friend Patrick. He won’t mind.”
“Okay!” Rae put Patrick on the seat, hopped up on him, turned to Kellen. “Buckle me in.”
I’m driving.Kellen bit back her response. Bad mother or not, she could see that a seven-year-old couldn’t—
“Or I can do it!” Rae got on her knees to reach the seat belt, dragged it over her and clicked it tight. She stuffed her blankie between the high end of the belt and her neck, leaned against it and sighed. “I hurt my face when you killed that man.”
“I didn’t kill him...! That bruise on your cheek?”
“You shot him.” Rae touched her bruise. “Yes, there.”
“He wore body armor. That protected him from the bullet so he didn’t die. I did throw him out on the road, and he’s after us with his bad friends.” Kellen groped at the side of her door, found the first aid kit, dug around and got a chemical ice bag. She snapped it and when it got cold, she passed it to Rae. “Put that on your cheek.”
“Okay!” Rae did for maybe five seconds, then held tattered pages out at arm’s length. “Look at our book!”
The road was gravel and cluttered with washboards. Every curve turned in on itself and climbed straight up the side of a mountain. Occasionally the road dipped into a creek bed. The wheels clattered over rounded stones and through trickling waters that, despite the summer months, would be still bracing. Or icy. Depending how long your feet were in them. Kellen maintained a speed that kept the roil of dust at a minimum, and all the time, she wanted to give way to her panic and put her foot flat on the accelerator. “I can’t look at it right now. What does our book say?”
“We’re ThunderFlash and LightningBug.”
“Wait. I thought I was ThunderBoomer?”
“No. I’ve decided we are ThunderFlash and LightningBug, and we have adventures and save everybody.”
“Yay, us.” Kellen was still trying to grapple with the reality of her child here, with her at the crossroads of disaster and death. “Rae, if you’re supposed to always be in a seat belt, why did you crawl in the back and hide?”
“I told you. To bond!”
“Do you think that was the right thing to do?”
“You’re my mommy, and I don’t want you to go away.”
Kellen guessed that was a good answer. “Do you know what it means to bond?”
“It’s like glue, only stickier.”
Kellen opened her mouth and shut it. Actually, that described bonding pretty well.
Rae said, “Monster MegaBond! Bonds metal, plastic, paper, silk, porcelain! Not even two monsters can pull it apart.” She grunted deeply and made a gorilla face.
An infomercial. The kid got her bonding smarts from an infomercial. Kellen couldn’t believe how stupid this was, and at the same time—damn. Funny and clever.
“When are you going to call Daddy?”
“I can’t. Horst stole my phone.” And didn’t Kellen feel stupid admitting that to a child.
“If I had my own phone, we could call Daddy right now.”
“Your own phone? You’re seven!”
“Martin has his own phone. Amelia has her own phone. Scarlett has her own phone. Jackson has his own phone.” Rae recited their names with solemn certainty.
“Your friends have cell phones? That’s appalling.”
Rae sagged in the seat. “I need a phone!”
