but since she was the only person on the road, she decided to take the chance. 'Hello,' she said.
'Amy, it's Jim. Are you okay?' There was an edge to his voice that she'd rarely heard before.
'Yeah, I'm fine. I'm about a quarter mile from home. Why?' She could see her street up in the distance.
'Stop the car. Don't go home. Turn around. “
'What? Jim, you aren't making any sense.' She saw something then, on her street. A black sedan.
'Amy, turn aroundl' His voice was harsh and commanding, but it got her attention. She stepped on the brakes, squealing to a stop. She put the car into reverse, spinning the wheel.
'What's going on?' In her rearview mirror, she saw the sedan pull out into the street.
'I think we're all in danger,' Valenti said. 'We've got to find the others and get out of here. “
She knew without asking who 'the others' were. The Evanses and the Parkers. She and Jim had become inextricably tied to them in a way that even in-laws weren't linked. She flicked her eye up to the rearview mirror and saw that the sedan was gaining on her.
'Jim, there's somebody following me in a big black car! “
'Where are you?' His voice projected concern.
'On Katims Road. Near the lumberyard. “
'I'm almost there, Amy. See if you can lose them somehow. “
Amy spun the wheel, careening her Jetta to the left into an entrance. For a moment, she was afraid the car would tip over, but it shuddered and righted itself. She smiled grimly, her mind flashing on the things she had read in Liz's diary and that Jim had told her; apparently, the sturdy little VW had been through far worse scrapes over the last few years.
In her mirror, she saw that the sedan was pulling into the entrance as well, but she had a good lead on them, and she figured she knew the layout of the lumberyard better than they did.
She steered the car around a tall stack of boards, then pulled what was almost the equivalent of a U-turn around another stack of wood. Now she knew she was out of sight of the sedan, but she was aware that her temporary invisibility worked both ways.
'Jim? I think I got ahead of them in the lumberyard,' she said into the phone.
'Hang on, honey. I'm almost there,' he said.
Thankful that there were only a few people present this early, Amy curved the Jetta to the right, around a stack of plywood, then spun the wheel to the left. Down this section, she thought she could get to a clear area, and maybe even sneak back out onto the street before the sedan's driver figured out that she was no longer inside the maze of wood.
Except that a huge pile of scrap lumber and sawdust now barred her way. That wasn't here last week, she had time to think, just before the Jetta plowed straight into the pile.
Amy shook her head and sat back from the steering wheel. She wasn't sure how long she had been out, or if she had actually lost consciousness at all. She put a hand to her head and felt wetness there. Her hand came away with blood on it.
She pushed the door open, then grabbed the cell phone and her purse. I'm trapped back here, she thought, looking down at the wood that created an alley on either side of her. She heard the sound of a car nearby, then yet another engine.
Amy clambered up a stack of four-by-fours, trying to get to the top of the pile. Maybe then I can get my bearings.
But as she did so, the blood began to seep into her eyes, and she was momentarily blinded.
But she wasn't deaf, and what she heard was one car crashing into another. As she used her arm to wipe the blood out of her eyes, she lost her balance and tumbled down the other side of the woodpile. She landed on the ground, hard, and the impact knocked the wind out of her. But she remained alert enough to hear the sounds of the car nearby Familiar sounds.
'Amy!' Through the red haze, Amy smiled as Jim Valenti's strong arms helped her up. He shoved her into the Rover on the passenger side and slammed the door closed.
Amy finally succeeded in wiping the blood from her eyes as Jim jumped into the drivers seat. They were racing away even before he'd finished closing his door.
'Better put your seat belt on,' he warned.
She started laughing. 'My seat belt? “
He laughed as well, but she knew that neither of them felt anything humorous. It was just the tension talking.
As they raced back onto Katims Road and began speeding off… without any black cars following them… Amy saw Jims emergency pager on the seat next to his phone. She picked it up and looked at it. 'Phillip and Diane called you. “
He nodded gravely 'I know. And Brody Davis before that. You can try calling them back, but I'm not sure you'll get an answer. “
'What's… whats happening, Jim? “
'I don't know for sure, baby, but I do know that we've got to get out of Roswell. “
'Does it have something to do with our kids? “
He snorted. 'I think that's a safe bet. Those were Special Unit guys. I'm sure of it. “
Her breath caught in her throat for a moment. 'What are we going to do? “
He put a hand over on hers, and she knew he was doing his best to calm her. 'If we can help the others, we will. If not, we'll try to go to Plan B. “
She nodded, then reached down and grabbed the bottom hem of her skirt. She tore the fabric and pushed a strip of it against her temple. The wound stung, but it was the best she could do for now.
Amy dialed the phone number of the Evanses, but it only rang repeatedly, unanswered. She tried the Parkers next, but the answering machine picked up after three rings. She hung up.
'No answer at the Evanses or the Crashdown,' she said. 'I'll try Brody next. “
Jim Valenti nodded, and she could see his jaw muscles clenching and unclenching as he drove on through the early morning light of Roswell.
17 Bushnell, Nebraska
I he Microbus had passed out of Wyoming on 1-80, and cut over to Highway 30 once they'd entered Nebraska. Just past the tiny town of Bushnell, they came to the Oliver Reservoir near Lodgepole Creek.
Max pointed to the side of the road. 'Pull over up there, Michael.' He knew they all needed to stretch, and thought that the sunlight and natural setting might help lift their collective mood. There was a picnic area with lots of trees. A few people were eating or roaming nearby, while children waded along the shore of the lake. A bridge crossed over the water, fashioned to look like an old-style train trestle bridge, and people were using it to cross back and forth.
'Isn't this a little public?' Michael asked. 'Some of these people might recognize us. “
Max sighed. 'Thats a risk we're going to have to take now, apparently “
The group piled out of the Microbus, stretching and yawning. Liz and Maria retrieved some food from the back, and they all made their way toward an unoccupied picnic table.
They began to eat in silence. Max finally broke it. 'So, the question becomes,
