Page 87 of The Hitchhikers
They burst into the kitchen, the screen door slamming behind them. The vehicle could be close now. The person already walking up to the front steps. Maybe they’d heard the noise.
Simon dropped her hand and pulled the gun from his shorts, running to the front of the house. “Lock the dead bolt,” he whisper-yelled over his shoulder.
Jenny flipped the lock. Should she put a chair under the doorknob? Something to barricade the door. But what if they needed to run out? She went to Simon. He was standing by the window to the right of the front door, using the tip of his finger to pull the curtain back. The sun slanted in, making him look as though he’d been sliced in half. One side gold. One dark.
“White truck coming up the driveway,” Simon said.
Jenny could hear it now. The rumble of an engine growing closer.
The truck stopped. A door slammed. Simon drew back from the window and moved over to stand in front of the solid wood door. He gestured to Jenny to get behind him.
“Stay ready with the rifle, but don’t take the safety off yet.”
She pressed against his back, the rifle at her side. She could feel his fear. The heat of his body through his shirt. His fast breaths. She didn’t know why they were in front of the door. Shouldn’t they be hiding somewhere? Then he brought his gun hand up.
“Don’t shoot,” she pleaded.
He looked back at her and mouthed, “Quiet.”
Bootsteps, coming up, then across the porch. Probably a man, who was now on the other side of the door. So close to them. He knocked fast, like a woodpecker.Rap, rap, rap.
Jenny felt the sound go straight through her body. She shivered, hooking her finger into the waistband of Simon’s shorts. The back of his arm flexed. He was gripping the gun.
The man knocked on the door a few more times. The porch boards squeaked as he shifted his weight. Or maybe he was peering into the windows. Jenny held perfectly still.
“William? Ruth? You in there?” A woman’s voice. Cheerful.
Jenny lifted her head, surprised.
More footsteps. Lighter—and fast. The person was running up the porch steps.
“Where’s Bones, Mom?”
Jenny sucked in a gasp. Oh no. It was a child. Sounded like a young boy.
“I’m not sure.” The woman knocked again.
After a moment, both sets of footsteps moved away. They were walking down the steps. Jenny exhaled and leaned forward, touching her forehead to Simon’s back, but he was inching to the side, then he dropped low, crawled to the window, and gently moved the edge of the curtain away. Jenny waited behind the door for the sound of the truck starting. It had to drive away soon.
“What’s happening?” she whispered to Simon.
“I don’t know. They’re in the middle of the driveway.”
Jenny dropped to her knees and crawled over to him, softly sliding the rifle with her. The window was low enough that she could remain on her knees. She peered over Simon’s shoulder so she could see through the same narrow gap.
The woman was tall and slender, with blond hair in a high ponytail, tight jeans tucked into cowboy boots, and a blue checkered shirt tied at her waist. The little boy had the same blond hair, but he was wearing a red baseball cap, and his jeans were faded and dirty at the knees. She couldn’t see much of his face. They were talking. Now he was pointing at the barn. They turned and walked toward it, the woman’s ponytail swinging. The boy ran ahead.
“They’re not leaving. Keep watch. I’ll be fast.” The warmth of Simon’s body left her side, leaving her unbalanced. She looked over her shoulder. He was crawling away.
“Where are you going?”
“I’m getting Ruth in case they start searching.” When he was farther from the window, he rose to his feet, and hurried to the kitchen. He pushed the table off the hatch.
She turned to the window and watched the barn entrance. She thought she could hear the boy calling for William, but she wasn’t sure. She hoped Simon was fast. What if he couldn’t make Ruth come up? The woman and kid might go around to the back door. There could be a spare key. She thought of lies she could tell. They were relatives. William and Ruth had gone on a trip. They were looking after the farm for them. But every idea fell apart.
The woman and boy emerged from the barn. Jenny held her breath. The boy stopped and adjusted his baseball hat, lifting it and squishing it down onto his mop of blond hair. The woman waited while he walked over to the paddock, kicking his boots in the dirt, chickens running out of the way. One of the horses hung its head over the fence and the boy patted his neck.
Jenny heard movement. She glanced at the kitchen. Simon was coming back, Ruth with him. She already looked terrified. Bones was right behind.
