He frowned and set the last plate down, then rested his big hands on the table. Anxiety hummed in my chest and I held Ally tighter.
John said, “I thought you said you liked it.”
Ally’s mouth opened, and I quickly said, “She does—she’s just scared of wrecking it. But you won’t be mad at her if she does, right, John?”
John laughed. “For breaking a chair? Of course not!”
Ally stared at me. I smiled and said, “See, it’s okay. You can sit in it.” With my chin tilted down so her head blocked my lips from John’s view, I mouthed, Go, now.
She eased off my lap and with one eye on John pulled the chair close to me and clutched my hand. I tried to give her a reassuring smile, but she was watching John. I noticed tear tracks on her face and felt sick. She must be so confused. Here was a man who hurt her, and now I was telling her to do what he said.
John had everything out on the tables—salt, pepper, butter, syrup, bread. He moved the plates around a couple of times, lining up everything just right, then looked at me.
“I got the plates yesterday, but I didn’t know what color…”
“The green’s pretty. Thanks.”
“Yeah?” His face lit up.
I nodded and prayed he’d be stupid enough to give me a knife, but he didn’t lay any cutlery on the table. Instead he set a metal rack in the middle of the fire, then got a cast-iron frying pan from the camper and put it on the rack. “I can’t wait to show you the ranch I bought for us to live on,” he said as he arranged sausage links in the pan.
Ally said, “I don’t want to live at a ranch.”
I shot her a warning look. John used a plastic spatula to move the sausages around, then set a smaller frying pan down beside it and cracked some eggs into it.
“Hope scrambled is okay?” The awkward smile again. He looked at Ally. “I have chickens at the ranch, so we’ll have fresh eggs every day. I’ll show you how to collect them. Place came with a couple of cows, so we can have milk, and I’ll teach you how to make cheese.”
Ally said, “What about horses?” I held my breath.
John said, “We can get some horses. Sure.” He nodded. “You can even have one of your own. Maybe a pony.”
I let out my breath and said, “That’s really nice of you. Isn’t that nice, Ally?”
Ally said, “Can I name it?” Come on, Ally, don’t piss him off.
John said, “Sure, whatever you want.” The sausage was now sizzling and he moved a few links around.
Ally said, “Can I bring my dog?”
John shook his head. “We can’t go back and get him.” My body stiffened. Here we go. Ally’s face flushed.
“I don’t want to go to your stupid ranch.”
My pulse sped up. John pointed the spatula at Ally.
“Now, listen here, young lady—”
Ally stood up. “I don’t want to go.”
John’s face flushed as he leaned forward in his seat. His hand rose.
I stood up and kicked the underside of the metal rack as hard as I could. It flipped up into the air, sending the large frying pan flying toward John, hitting him square in the forehead with a loud thunk and splattering hot grease across his face. He screamed and clutched his face and started rolling on the ground. I lifted Ally into my arms and ran like hell.
SESSION TWENTY-TWO
I’m not ready to talk about what happened, but I have to. I need to find some way to deal with this or the memories are going to eat me alive. Every time I close my eyes they all come rushing back in, drowning me in panicky thoughts. I wake up in the middle of the night, my heart pounding, my body slick with sweat, my mind racing. And one thought repeating over and over: If you stop running you will die.
* * *
Terror propelled me into the forest and toward the sound of a river. A second later I realized I should’ve headed to the road where there was a chance for help, but it was too late now. As I raced through the woods, trees and branches tore at my arms. John yelled my name back at the camp. Ally screamed.
“Ally, stop—you have to be quiet!” I pumped my legs hard, leaped over logs. My arms ached from Ally’s weight. John yelled my name again. I ran faster.
Go, go, go!
I raced along the bank above the river, hoping the roar of the water would muffle any sounds. My foot caught on an exposed root and I slid all the way down to the river’s edge. The cell fell out of my pocket into the water and I narrowly missed landing on Ally. She screamed and I covered her mouth with my hand. “Shhhh!” Her face was white and panic-stricken. I knelt down.
“Climb on my back and wrap your legs around my waist.”
Once she was up and had a good grip around my neck, I took off again. I was following the edge of the river, forcing my way through dense foliage, crawling over downed trees, slipping on moss-covered rocks, and ducking branches when I heard John yelling through the woods.
“Sara! Come back!”
My body flooded with fresh adrenaline and I ran as fast as I could, slipping and sliding on the rocks. I lost my balance as Ally shifted her weight, and fell hard on my left knee. I flung out my elbow to keep her from falling and scraped the palm of my hand bloody on a rock.
Get up! Run!
The sound of rushing water grew louder as we neared the top of some falls. Ahead of me the shore ended in a wall of dense brush and logs cast off from the winter’s floods. I was trapped. My eyes searched the bank frantically. How was I going to get around this?
I glanced at the opposite side of the river, but the water was moving too fast. I looked up the bank to my left and spotted a narrow opening under the lower branches of a fir tree. I clambered up, Ally’s weight working against every step. Finally I squirmed through, then followed a trail a few yards until it doubled back and came out above the edge of the falls. It looked like animals had forged a path down the side of the falls, but it was steep and rough.
As I gazed down, a wave of vertigo washed over me. I grabbed on to a branch and closed my eyes. I couldn’t get down there carrying Ally. What was I going to do? There was no way I was going to be able to outrun John. I heard Julia’s voice in my head. I hid in the woods for hours.…
We could hide. But then what? Eventually I’d have to come out with Ally and he’d still be in the woods—waiting. This was never going to end. A startled grouse ran out of the brush in front of us, dragging her wings and pretending to be wounded so we didn’t notice her young. That’s what I needed—a decoy, something that would distract him. I looked into the forest, looked down at the river. The river—
John told me he can’t swim.
I turned to my left and headed into the woods. Thankfully I only had to go a few yards before I spotted a small cave cut into a rock face. I set Ally down beside it and dropped to my knees in front of her.
“Ally, I need you to really listen to me now. I want you to stay in this cave, and you can’t say anything—not a peep—until I come get you.”
“Nooooooo!” She started to cry. “Don’t leave me, Mommy. Please. I’ll be really, really quiet.”
Tears came to my own eyes, but I grabbed her hands and squeezed them.
“I don’t want to leave you, sweetie, but I’m going to get us out of here. I promise.”
John’s voice called out through the woods. “Saaarrrrraaa…”
He was close.
“I need you to be super brave now, Ally Cat. I’m going to be making lots of noises and yelling your name over and over, but it’s only to fool him. It will all be pretend. So you can’t come out, okay?”
She nodded, her eyes huge. I kissed her cheek hard.
“Now go—quick like a bunny.” As she turned to burrow into the hole, I said, “Remember, Ally. You’re helping me fool him, so no matter what, don’t come out.” My mind filled with the horrifying image of her skeleton found years from now and I prayed I was doing the right thing. I grabbed her hand and kissed her little fingers one last time.
&nb
sp; When she was squeezed in as far as possible, I whispered, “I’ll be back soon. See you later Ally-gator.”
She whispered back, “In a while, crocodile.”
I took a breath and left my child behind.
* * *
I headed straight back down the trail and toward the river. Just before I broke out of the forest and onto the top of the path that would take me down the side of the falls, I paused to listen for John but couldn’t hear anything over the roar of the water. I knew I wouldn’t have much time, so I slid down the steep path on my hands and knees, grasping at ferns and branches to stop myself from tumbling over the edge. Then I was at the bottom, where the falls dropped into a jade-green pool of icy mountain water.
I pulled off my running shoes and stared down into the river.
“Sara!” John bellowed from somewhere in the forest above.
I took a deep breath and dove straight in. The frigid water sucked the air out of my chest and I came to the surface coughing and spluttering. After I sucked in a lungful of air, I dove in again, and when I popped back up to the surface, I yelled, “Ally!” as loud as I could—terrified she’d forget my warning and come running. I dove several more times. Between dives I scanned the shore for John.
Finally I spotted him picking his way down the side trail. I frantically slapped at the water, spinning my body around, then dove under again, coming to the surface screaming.
“Ally! Someone help me!”
I dove in again and when I popped up, John was standing on the shore holding a rifle by his side. Angry red marks from the hot grease striped his face, and his forehead was crimson and blotchy.
“John, Ally fell in and went over the falls!” I poured every ounce of my fear and terror into my voice. “She’s going to drown!”
He ran forward and stood on the very edge of the smooth rock jutting out into the water.
“Where did she go under?”
As I treaded water, I shook my head and choked out, “I don’t know. I can’t find her.” My teeth chattered as I said, “Help. I’m sorry, John. Help me!”
He hesitated for a moment, then said, “We should look downstream. The current may have carried her farther.”
I reached for the large flat rock he was standing on like I was going to crawl up, then let my hands slip off the wet surface and splashed back into the water. He leaned over the water and reached out. I swam closer.
I only had one chance at this.
I braced both feet on a large boulder below. As I gripped one of his hands, I let my fingers slide out so that he leaned forward farther to catch me. When his entire upper body was leaning over the water, I grabbed his hand and pulled with all my strength while twisting my body to the side.
John crashed into the water behind me. He came to the surface spluttering and slapping at the water with his hands.
“Sara, I can’t swim!”
I quickly paddled to the shore and tried to lift myself up onto the rock, but he grabbed the back of my leg and pulled me into the river with him. My throat filled with water.
I twisted out of his grasp and kicked back up to the surface, gasping for air. He had hold of my shirt and came up with me. I clawed at his face and rammed my knee into his groin under the water. His grip loosened and I propelled myself backward.
Our struggle had pushed us downstream and closer to the shore, where the water was shallower. John would be able to reach the bottom soon. As my feet found loose rocks under them, I started to rise. John was behind me again, but in his panic he didn’t realize the water was only a few feet deep. He grabbed at my waist and pulled me down. As I came up for air, I kicked back with my feet and my heel connected with his chin.
My hands grasped at rocks under the water and I used them to pull myself away. This time he’d also found purchase on the rocks and he was beginning to rise behind me.
My hands found a large jagged rock. I twisted my body around as he reached for me.
“Sara, I was only trying to—”
I rose up and hit him in the temple as hard as I could. His fingers reached to touch the bloody gash that opened up on the side of his head. He fell to his knees. “Sara…” His voice was agonized. Blood poured from the wound.
I scrambled to my feet. With both hands holding the rock, I swung hard and fast, smashing it into his temple with a loud crack. The rock slipped out of my hand and splashed a few feet down the river.
He fell forward into the water, then pushed himself up on his hands and knees, swaying. He shook his head and reached for me as I scrambled backward. His torso landed on my legs. I squirmed to the side and got to my feet. He rose unsteadily. I kicked him in the side of the knee. He stumbled and lost his balance, falling onto his back. I leaped on him and drove all my weight down onto his chest. His head went under the water and he thrashed around, clawing at my legs. I left one knee on his chest and pressed my other down hard on his throat. He bucked again, almost dislodging me. My hands grasped at another rock in the water. I hit him in the head. He struggled harder, hands clawing at my legs. I hit him again, and again, and again. I realized I was screaming. The water around his head turned red.
He was still.
My heart pounded as I gulped at the air. I stayed kneeling far longer than he could hold his breath underwater. Finally I lifted my knee off and stood up, stumbling backward on suddenly weak legs. His body floated up slightly. His face was a shocked mask, his mouth open, red hair mixed with blood. A gash on the side of his head exposed white bone.
I scrambled over the slippery rocks to the shore, then hunched over, gagging up water and fear into the sand.
I had killed him. I had killed my father. I stared at his still body, watching it drift with the current while mine shook violently.
* * *
I staggered back up the trail. Exhausted, I slipped several times, grasping at roots and ferns to pull my bruised body back up. When I was at the top, I got disorientated and couldn’t find the trail into the woods where I’d left Ally. I spent a heart-stopping few minutes retracing my steps until I recognized an old twisted cedar tree and found the cave.
“Ally, it’s me, it’s safe to come out now.” When she didn’t answer I panicked, but then I heard movement and she threw herself into my arms, almost knocking me over. We clung to each other, crying.
Finally she pulled away. “I heard you yelling, but I stayed hid like you told me.”
“You did great, Ally. I’m really proud of you.”
She wrinkled her nose. “You’re all wet.”
“I fell in the water.”
She looked around, her eyes huge, then whispered, “Where’s the bad man?”
“He’s gone, Ally, and he’s never coming back.”
She hugged me tight. “I want to go home, Mommy.”
“Me too.”
* * *
Back at the camp the fire still smoldered and a shiver snaked down my back at the sight of the frying pans on the ground and John’s chair lying on its side. I’d lost the cell in the river and was hoping he’d left his in the camper or truck. But a quick look around didn’t turn up a phone or his keys.
Now that some of the adrenaline was wearing off, I couldn’t stop shaking. I pulled on a jacket John had hung up in the camper, gagging at his scent mixed with wood smoke, and searched for the truck keys. When I hadn’t found them after ten minutes I started to panic. Ally, terrified from her ordeal, was following close behind as I ransacked the camper and truck.
John’s keys must be on his body or in the river. I debated my options—go back down to the river and see if they were still on him or head to the road with Ally and find help. I’d driven for a long time with John and never heard another vehicle. Ally would get tired fast, and I didn’t know how long I could carry her.
I was still trying to figure out what to do when Ally said, “I’m hungry.”
As I searched through John’s provisions, a chill came over me every time I noticed some little detail about
his life. He liked whole milk and white bread. He had junk food stored everywhere. He liked Orange Crush and Coffee Crisps. It was the last one that shook me up the most. They were my favorite. Finally I found some peanut butter and made Ally a sandwich.
Then I said, “Ally Cat, you’re going to have to wait here for me for a little bit while I go down to the river, okay?”
“No!” She started to cry.
“Ally, it’s really important. I won’t be long and you can hide in the camper if you—”
She started to scream, “No, no, no, no!” and dropped the sandwich as she threw herself at my knees. There was no way I could leave her, but I couldn’t let her see John’s body either.
We’d walked for over an hour when I finally heard a vehicle coming down the road. As I turned and spotted the white forestry truck, I waved my arms. The truck came to a stop beside us and a smiling old man rolled down the window.
“You ladies lost?”
I started to cry.
* * *
After the cops pulled John’s body out of the water and investigated the scene, they found his wallet under the seat of his truck. His name was Edward John McLean, and once they ran some checks on him they found out he was a blacksmith who traveled through the Interior. The blacksmith thing fits with the metal dolls, and Billy said the noises I’d heard in the background on some of the calls were probably horses. Since then they’ve found his trailer with all his tools parked at a motel near Nanaimo.
Sandy’s okay. She had a concussion and spent a couple of days at the hospital for observation—Evan and she were there at the same time. Right after I gave my statement the day I killed John, I made the cops take me straight to Evan. When the police told him Ally and I were missing, he wanted to hold off on his surgery, but the doctors said it was too risky to wait, so he had to go through with it. He was just waking up when Ally and I got to the hospital, and he cried at the sight of us.
Ally and I brought Sandy flowers. When Ally handed them to her and said, “Thanks for trying to save me,” Sandy looked like she was fighting hard not to cry. I thought she’d quiz me about everything that had happened with John, but she didn’t say anything, even when Ally told her about hiding in the cave. I’d gotten so used to Sandy always being fired up about something it was weird seeing her pale and looking depressed. She was probably unhappy she didn’t get to kill John herself.