Chapter 20
RUE
I run a hand over my face as Bullet sits beside me on the ground. Noah has the back hatch open on the back of the Pathfinder, gathering as much as he can and shoving it into his duffel bag and my backpack.
I should be helping him. If a car drives by, they’ll see him.
But it takes all I can to sip the water he handed me a minute ago. I bring the plastic bottle to my lips and let a trace through the gap, wetting my tongue. I watch Noah move with precision, the only evidence of his injury the occasional wince.
He shouldn’t be using that arm. He should be letting it rest.
But he keeps moving, tossing the now-full black duffle bag onto the ground. He runs his hand along his jaw, and then starts shuffling through things in the car, like he’s searching for something.
And then it hits me. The letters.
Against my protesting body, I shove myself to standing, my head spinning. “I need to get more stuff out of the car.”
Noah glances over to me and starts shaking his head. “I’ll get everything out. Just sit down, Rue. You look like you’re about to pass out.”
“No,” I counter, my ears buzzing in the desert wind. “The letters. I can’t leave your letters in the car. I need to get them out. They’ll know…”
“Know what?” Noah tilts his head at me as he drops my backpack to the ground and shuts the back of the wrecked Pathfinder. “Did you really do it?”
I furrow my brow. “No, they’ll know you’re with me…”
“Why would they know?”
“They’ll probably find your DNA in the car,” I reason, the logic connecting in my brain. “I’m sure they’ll see the blood, too.” Panic blurs the edge of my vision. We need to do something about it. “Maybe I can drive it further off the side of the road.”
He retreats back from the car. “It’ll just bury in the sand. It’s far enough off, it’ll be okay.” Noah points back toward the road. “We’re like thirty feet from the edge of the shoulder. Someone might not notice it.”
“Yes, they will,” I argue, as Bullet pisses on a sage bush. “We need to make it harder to determine whose car it is.”
“What are you suggesting?” Noah slings my backpack over his shoulders and joins me where I’m standing, extending a hand to steady me.
“Burn it.” My mind flashes back to my dad’s fire, the one that consumed all the evidence of me killing Matthew. “We need to burn the whole thing.”
Noah makes a face. “That’s a horrible idea. It’ll draw attention.”
“Not if I can drive it further out there,” I point out into the desert. “I mean, we’re almost to New Mexico. We haven’t seen a single truck pass. We’ll just drive it further out, and then… Then we can set it on fire.”
“And then when it’s found, someone will definitely think something, Rue,” Noah argues, his tone growing sharp. “That’s a fucking horrible idea.”
“Your DNA—”
“They aren’t going to check for my DNA right away,” he drops the duffle bag and grabs both of my forearms, his eyes catching mine.
“They’re not going to think I’m with you.
I’ll get the letters for you. Your car just looks like you hit a mountain lion.
That’s it. For all the rest of the world knows, you left to get a tow.
It’ll take days before they impound it. Then they might try to call you, but that’s it. No DNA is going to be pulled.”
But the panic tightens the walls of my chest. “They could connect it.”
“Rue,” Noah shakes me slightly. “I’m at the bottom of the lake, remember?”
I nod, but my gut is screaming that this is really, really bad.
“We’re so fucked,” I whimper, my head twirling as the wind roars around us.
“This is so bad. I don’t even know if Bullet can make it.
How are we even going to get anywhere?” My brain won’t stop with the questions, and my throat constricts, the pitch of my voice rising.
“Sit down,” Noah barks, knocking me off balance, though he doesn’t let me fall. He gently guides me downward until I’m seated again. Bullet doesn’t protest the movement, and instead, crawls into my lap. “Stay here. Drink the goddamn water. And I will get the letters.”
I press the heels of my hands into my eye sockets, leaving the water sitting beside me. I don’t know why I’m panicking. I don’t know why my mind is racing the way it is, but the whole world feels like it’s spinning.
And my stomach lurches.
I wrap my arms around Bullet, and then heave, vomiting all in the sand. The acidic scent sends my stomach rolling all over again, and I throw up one more time, emptying out what little contents there were.
“Shit,” I hear Noah say from the backseat.
At first, I think he’s talking about me, but then I see what he’s looking at.
Headlights.
“You need to hide,” I call out, my voice weak. “Before they get to us.”
“Too late,” Noah grits out, though he does duck his head. I brace as the eighteen-wheeler blares by, not even bothering to stop at the sight of the accident.
It’s both a relief and a slight disappointment.
“He didn’t even think about slowing down,” I mumble, just as Noah slams the back passenger door, carrying a stack of letters.
“It’s better he didn’t slow down,” Noah pauses. “Also, he could still call in the car, so we really need to get moving…” His voice trails off as his eyes drop to the vomit, and then jump back to me. “You definitely have a concussion. Maybe you shouldn’t be walking…”
“I have to,” I tell him, and then notice the map in his hands. I reach for it, just as he stuffs the letters into my backpack. I spread it out, but it’s so freaking dark that I can barely make out anything.
“We’re gonna have to lighten the load eventually,” Noah grunts as he zips up the top of the bag. “And we’re never going to make it doing this on foot.”
“We’re almost to Glenrio,” I tap the border town. “There’s nothing there, but…”
“But there’s nowhere else to go,” Noah finishes for me, and then extends a hand. “Let’s go. We have about three hours until daylight. Hopefully, we can make it… somewhere.”
I nod, taking his help and letting him help me to my feet. “Are you sure you got everything out of the car?”
“Everything that we take,” he says, his tone final.
And I let it go. I don’t want to question him. It’s not going to do any good to argue. It takes way more effort than I’m willing to give right now.
Bullet tugs at the leash ahead of us, and I lean against Noah’s right side until I steady myself enough to walk without his assistance. I gaze upward, taking in the sky full of stars. Under normal circumstances, maybe this would be romantic.
But that would require Noah to love me.
And honestly, I’m not sure he does anymore.
I glance back at the Pathfinder, a wrecked mess of shadows, and what little confidence I had in our ability to navigate this mess dies right there with it.