“We need to get help.”
“We need to get out of here.”
“We can’t just leave him like this!”
She yelped as Simon jerked her up by her wrist and pulled her out of the kitchen. She tripped and stumbled after him. Her face was hot, her heart hammering. She’d never seen such violence, such rage. The air was thick with it. Simon let go of her and she numbly followed him through the church. Past the circle of drums and pillows.
They were out the door, down the steps. She lost her balance at the bottom, one knee coming down hard on the brick walkway. Pain exploded up her leg and she cried out. Simon lifted her from under her armpits. They walked around the corner with his arm around her waist.
They were in the parking lot. The back of the RV was in sight. She hobbled beside Simon, her hair hanging in her eyes. She hoped someone would drive by. They would see the blood on Simon’s face and his shirt. Did she have blood on her too? It had flung so far.
Her stomach lurched, and her mouth filled with a sour taste. She stumbled. Simon’s arm tightened around her waist.
Voices, across the road. Were they on the sidewalk? Maybe they were close. Alice tried to look, but Simon yanked open the RV door and pushed her inside.
She was at the top of the steps. Jenny was there, hand over her mouth. Behind her, Tom, struggling to sit up.
“Alice,” he said. “Oh, my God.”
Simon slammed the door and pushed her into the driver’s seat. She collapsed and held the steering wheel with shaking hands. Simon tore his shirt over his head and threw it to the back of the RV. He jumped into the passenger’s seat.
“Go.”
She glanced at herself in the rearview mirror and sucked in a sharp breath when she saw the red smears on her cheeks. She wiped at them with the back of her hand, but that only made them worse. She was crying now, tears spilling down her face.
“Goddamn it.” Simon leaped up and grabbed a towel from the kitchen, dampened it under the tap, and handed it to Alice. She cleaned her face, the droplets on her legs, her shoes. The sour taste was still in her mouth. She gagged, swallowed saliva.
“What happened?” Jenny’s voice was frantic. Simon didn’t answer. “Is that your blood, Alice? Simon? Did you get hurt?”
“I’m fine. Everything’s fine.” Simon took the cloth back from Alice, stepped into the kitchen, and splashed water on his face, soaped his hands. “Drive, Alice.”
She fumbled for the keys, her view outside the windshield blurred by tears.
“Whose blood is it, then?”
“Jenny, chill out. I’ll tell you later.” He dropped into the passenger’s seat. “Go!”
Alice managed to put the RV in reverse, backed out of the parking lot, and drove off down the street. She heard sniffling sounds over her own. Jenny was crying at the table.
“Good. Stay at this speed,” Simon said. “Keep it normal.”
She checked her mirrors. No flashing lights. Simon was getting away. He was never going to be stopped. He would go on killing. Her chest was so tight it hurt to breathe.
Once they reached the highway, Alice sped up. Her knee ached. Her arm throbbed where Simon had hit her with the thermos. The bruise was in a line and turning blue. She hoped the church members were back with the van now. But what if they didn’t go into the kitchen? If the man wasn’t found soon, it might be too late. Tears leaked down Alice’s cheeks and over her mouth.
Simon shook out the map and traced their route with his finger. “We’re on the Crowsnest Highway. When we come to a junction, stay right.”
The highway took them through a mix of forest, open flatlands, and rocky areas, the mountains a constant presence in the distance. Alice stared numbly at the road through puffy eyes. She tried not to think, tried not to remember the sounds.
They crossed the wide, murky-green Kootenay River, and the highway began to run alongside another river. Twenty miles later they reached a sign welcoming them to Fernie.
“Shit.” Simon pushed back in his seat like he was trying to get away from something. It scared Alice so badly, she hit the brakes.
“No! Don’t stop!” Simon yelled.
Alice realized what he’d seen. A black-and-white police car parked on the side of the road ahead. The officer was standing by a truck, also pulled over, but he didn’t have his red-and-blue lights on. He and the male driver were leaning against the hood, chatting.
“Turn here. Now.” Simon pointed to a road on the left, and she made the turn, sharp enough that items in the back of the RV slid around and bottles clanked in the fridge.
