Page 16 of The Hitchhikers
“Stop talking.” Simon made sure all the curtains on the windows were closed, snapping them into place. Then he slid the privacy curtain across and sealed them into the dark. Simon and Jenny moved up into the front of the RV, where Alice could hear them whispering. Planning.
She rolled her head slowly to the side and met Tom’s eyes. Blood still trickled from his nose, and she couldn’t even wipe his face for him. His bottom lip was puffy and split. He smelled of sweat and dirt. She looked down at their bound hands. His knuckles were swollen too.
“I’m so sorry.” Tom’s voice was weak, his ragged breathing breaking up the words. “I should’ve listened to you. You had all those doubts.” She’d only heard him cry once before, when he’d held their son’s body. She couldn’t bear it if he broke down now.
“We’re going to be okay. We just have to stay calm,” she whispered. She thought about telling him she’d hidden a knife under them, but she was too worried that Simon might hear.
“I wanted to protect you, but I messed up.”
“Your shoulder will heal. Everything will heal.”
They held gazes, and she knew he was trying to make his expression reassuring, but behind that she saw the pain and anger. The fear. She was sure her face echoed it all.
“Try to rest,” she said. “We don’t know what the morning will bring.”
CHAPTER 7ALICE
Simon and Jenny were outside for a while, then Alice heard scraping in the storage compartment under the RV. She guessed that Simon was packing up their gear. She felt the shift of weight as they moved in and out of the RV. One of the kitchen drawers opened, and there was a series of metal clinking sounds, like items being thrown together. Utensils?
No, it was the knives. Of course.
Her breath caught. This couple was wanted forstabbingtwo people and now they had their knives. Not all of them, though. Alice was only slightly comforted knowing that she’d hidden one under her mattress. It wouldn’t be much good if she couldn’t reach it.
The RV shifted again as someone went outside. Simon, she guessed. The storage compartment underneath opened and closed. She hoped Simon had only been removing the knives. Now there were more sounds inside as they changed the dinette into a bed. They dropped the tabletop. Moved the foam seats around. Unzipped their sleeping bags and shook them out.
Simon and Jenny had whispered good night to each other, like this was all normal, but later Alice heard the frustrated rolling of someone changing their position, the flap of blankets, the thump of a pillow being adjusted as though at least one of them was struggling to sleep.
The night was long. Without being able to shift her position even slightly, Alice’s muscles cramped, and it was hot with the windows closed. Her clothes were soaked with sweat.
Beside her, Tom drifted in and out of sleep, mumbling nonsensical words and making pained sounds. Her thoughts ran rampant, spinning nightmarish fates at the hands of their captors. Any brief moments of sleep were haunted by the image of Tom being beaten, his body on the ground with Simon looming over him, and she’d wake with a start, her heart galloping.
The sky was beginning to lighten outside the windows, the forest stirring with the first calls of birds. There would be campers on their way to use the restrooms before everyone else, but Alice was too terrified to scream for help. Not when Simon had a loaded gun.
The other couple was now waking. Blankets shifted, the silky slide of nylon sleeping bags. Simon whispered something. Then Jenny. She sounded urgent, upset.
Jenny went into the bathroom with her pack. Alice couldn’t see much from her position, but she heard Simon moving around as he got dressed. Then the cushions being rearranged, the tabletop lifting into place. The swish of nylon as he rolled the sleeping bags.
He appeared beside the bed in a white tank top with red piping and ragged cutoff jean shorts and pointed to Alice.
“You can use the bathroom next. I’ll be with Tom—and this.” He lifted his shirt to show the handgun.
Tom was quiet, but Alice could feel the anger radiating off his tense body. She held herself still as Simon untied their bindings. Tom cried out when Simon yanked on their arms, his eyes squeezing shut and his breath rapid. The wounds from the fight were more obvious now. Simon didn’t seem to have any marks other than scuffed knuckles, but Tom’s nose was swollen, thenostrils crusted with dried blood, and he had bruised cheeks, a scraped chin, and puffy lips.
“He needs Tylenol,” she said. “And another bag from the freezer.”
“Ask nicely.”
Alice despised Simon for this, for his staring down at them with his eyebrow raised and a mocking twist to his lips.
“Please. Please let me give my husband Tylenol.” She gritted out each word.
Jenny came out of the bathroom and stood beside Simon. She’d changed into a yellow sleeveless baby-doll top with an empire waist, faded jean short cutoffs, and her hair was braided.
Simon gave Alice a look. “Your turn. Don’t do anything stupid and I’ll get your husband pills. Screw up, and I’ll make his pain go away forever. Understand?”
She nodded. In the bathroom, she took a couple of shaky breaths, glad for the precious few moments alone. The walls were thin, but they at least gave some semblance of privacy.
“Don’t take long,” Simon shouted. “Or I’ll kick the door down.”
