52
Julia tore out of the driveway and followed the road. Her heart hammered. She clenched the wheel. The car had a GPS system. She glanced at the map screen. The main road wasn’t far ahead. She checked the rearview mirror but didn’t see anyone following yet.
She accelerated on the twisty road, wrenching the wheel to the right, then left. She didn’t need her headlights. The sun was rising and the sky bright and clear. She spotted the main road ahead. It was the way she’d come in. She accelerated, spraying dirt and gravel. There wasn’t a moment to lose.
She reached the main road, veered left, and fed the car more gas. There was no one on the road and the woods were dark. She glanced in the rearview mirror. Still no one following her, but then she realized she wouldn’t recognize their car unless they took Novak’s black pickup.
Julia had to come up with another plan. She checked the GPS. The main road led back to the highway. Once she got there, they’d have no way of knowing that it was her driving the red Toyota. McKenna and the others wouldn’t recognize her.
Julia kept her eyes on the road, gritting her teeth. She could see the highway ahead, a clearing in the trees. She glanced in the rearview mirror again. Still no headlights. She kept going. She could see cars in the distance.
She reached the highway and veered left onto the on-ramp, faster than she’d ever driven before.
It struck her that she was driving a stolen car.
If she got stopped by a cop, even better.
She scanned the traffic. No one seemed to be tailing her.
Maybe she’d made it. She let herself feel a brief thrill of relief.
She raced down the road, thinking ahead.
She had to tell the cops what she knew. She remembered the U-Haul was going to explode at 8:00 a.m. If she could gain enough time, she could stop and make the call.
She couldn’t keep the information to herself, no matter what. Innocent people would be killed.
She zoomed past billboards for casino gambling, local realtors, and finally, one for a twenty-four-hour truck stop. Her heart lifted. She sped to eighty-five, then ninety. The Toyota wheezed. She reached the exit for the truck stop.
She flew down the off-ramp and raced to the place. A neon sign flickered OSCAR’S OPEN 24/7 next to a nondescript brick building with a flat roof and smoked glass windows. A few cars and a tractor-trailer were parked in the lot.
She ran a red light and headed straight for the parking lot.
She veered inside, parked, then jumped out of the car.
She ran for the restaurant and flew through the door.
The restaurant was long and narrow, with an old-fashioned counter, empty except for a grizzled trucker chatting with an older waitress holding a phone.
“Please help me!” Julia bolted to her. “I have to call 911! I saw a group of men kill someone! They’re going to blow up a U-Haul at Valley Forge—”
“Whoa!” the waitress recoiled, taken aback. “You need to settle—”
“No, I don’t have time. I had to steal a car to get away. They loaded a U-Haul with explosives—”
“What?” The waitress scoffed. “You must be high—”
“Just let me have your phone.” Julia lunged for the phone, but the waitress snatched it away.
“Get out of here or I’ll call the—”
“Good, yes, call them! Tell them what I told you!”
“Oscar, we got a nutjob!” The waitress turned to the kitchen, but a burly man in a long white apron was already on his way.
“Lady, did you say you stole a car?” he demanded, his dark eyes incredulous.
“Please believe me, they’re going to blow up a U-Haul in Valley Forge. Please let me use a phone—”
“Get out or I’ll throw you out!!” Oscar lumbered toward Julia, and she edged away, putting up her hands.
“I’ll go, but please call 911! I swear, they’re terrorists, I saw it!”
“Get out!” Oscar boomed, almost upon Julia, but the trucker at the counter turned around with a concerned frown.
“Miss, are you for real?”
“Yes, I swear!” Julia almost cried with relief, backing up against the door. “Just call 911! Tell them what I said. It’ll blow up before the first reenactment!”
The trucker picked up his phone just as Oscar shoved Julia out the door. She staggered backward, reeling, but kept her balance. She ran back to the Toyota, jumped inside, and took off, following the signs back to the highway.
She checked the clock: 6:50 a.m. The truck would already be there. If she kept this speed, she could get to Valley Forge in time to warn the cops about the bomb.
Julia zoomed up the on-ramp and joined the traffic on the highway. She got onto 422 and raced east to Valley Forge. It was her against the clock. She glanced in the rearview. Three cars back was a black pickup.
She didn’t know if it had an American flag on the back window, but she wasn’t about to find out.
She hit the gas.