Page 112 of The Hitchhikers
He rolled his eyes, then turned around.
Alice crouched behind the stump, reached for the stick, and tried to quietly tug it free of vines. Now she had to move without Simon hearing her. He was only a couple of feet away.
She took a breath, said a fervent mental prayer, and, in one smooth motion, stood up and stepped through the grass. She raised the stick over her shoulder like a baseball bat.
She started to swing.
Jenny screamed, “Simon! Watch out!”
Simon turned, and instead of hitting him in the back of the head, Alice smacked him across his face. He yelled out and cupped his nose.
Alice dropped the stick and ran through the grass, parallel to the road for a few steps, then leaped back onto the gravel. Simon had stumbled after her. He grabbed her shirt.
She spun and kicked him between his legs. He yelled out againas he dropped to his knees, while grabbing at himself with one hand. His other was still twisted in her shirt.
She kicked his already bloodied face, wrenched free, and sprinted down the road.
CHAPTER 40ALICE
Alice’s feet pounded on the hard dirt. She scanned the road ahead, searching for the railway tracks. When they appeared around the bend, she veered toward them. Her shoes slid on the wood ties. She pumped her arms. She was headed west, back toward Bellevue, she hoped.
She looked for a break in the trees so she could cut back onto the road. She’d flag a vehicle down. But the tracks seemed to be curving and taking her deeper into the forest.
She tried to listen for footsteps. Was Simon following? She had a stitch in her side. She gasped through the pain. She wouldn’t be able to keep this pace for long.
She risked a glance over her shoulder.
Simon was about half a football field behind her, and Jenny was running behind him. Alice had bought herself some time with kicking Simon, but he was catching up.
Alice turned her head around and kept running.
The trees opened. She was coming up to a long wooden trestle over some sort of ravine. She couldn’t tell how deep it was, or if there was a river at the bottom. She had only a moment to decide if she should cross. Surely Simon wouldn’t follow her over the bridge. He wouldn’t risk Jenny like that. She tried to listen for a train, but it was hard to hear over her breathing.
She was at the beginning of the trestle. She paused for a heartbeat and held her breath. No immediate roar of a train or a whistle in the distance. She was going to cross.
She’d made it halfway when she heard the crack of the gun, the sound distorting and echoing, and felt a sharp, biting pain in the back of her calf. She fell forward, her body slamming into the rough wood. She gasped, wheezing for air. She looked over her shoulder.
Simon had run out onto the bridge. He was only about thirty yards away. Maybe less. She could see his bloody face.
“Get back here!” he yelled.
She stared at him in disbelief. “No! You shot me!”
“I had to stop you.”
She twisted around, while still staying flat. She wanted to see how bad her wound was, but she had to keep her eye on Simon, who’d taken another few steps.
Jenny had caught up to Simon and was panting beside him. “Oh, my God, Simon! Did you shoot her?”
“She broke my nose!”
“Let’s just leave.” She tugged at his arm. “I’ll drive.”
“No.” He raised the gun again and aimed at Alice. “Get off the bridge.”
She had only moments to get through to Jenny. She was her only chance.
“He’s never going to let me go, Jenny. He’s been planning on killing me all along.”
