“Listen.”
“We can’t split—”
“Christie,
He didn’t add the obvious.
“I’ll take Simon. You, Kate. Maybe you go by the lake. I’ll go near the game room. Then we go right to the car.”
“I’m scared.”
“We get in. We drive toward the gate. If they don’t suspect anything, they won’t have a plan to stop us. We’ll get out.”
She shook her head. “It sounds crazy.”
A harder squeeze. “Listen, Christie. It’s what we have to do. There are things we have to do over the next few hours. Do you understand?”
More words not said.
Quiet for a few minutes. An old-fashioned wall clock with a luminous dial showed a little after four. Dawn wasn’t far away. Everything that Jack talked about would be happening in the next few hours.
“What do we tell the kids?”
Already she was imagining walking with Kate to the car. Her questions. Her reluctance to go all the way to the parking lot. For … what?
Then getting them both into the car, fast, when every second might count.
He said, “We have to tell them.”
“No.” She shook her head. Almost moaned. “We can’t.”
“We have to. Who knows what they’ll see. What we might face.”
“They’ll be so scared.”
“Yes. But, listen. We get them to the car. We leave.”
She nodded at Jack’s words. Then, as if she had to be part of this plan: “Right. No discussion, no debate. You and I tell them we need to get into the car
Jack looked right at her, realizing the bridge she had crossed.
Christie thought of her daughter, more obstinate and self-absorbed each week that she got older.
But she also knew that Kate still had one foot in the world of a little girl.
“I know Kate will understand. And Simon will follow her. We just have to do this fast.”
“Yes.” Jack took another deep breath. “We can do this.”
She didn’t say anything. Then:
“Do we wake them early?” she said.
“First light.”
She saw Jack look at the door, the front windows of the cabin.
“Right. First bit of light.” She choked on the words, feeling this close to sobbing.
Instead, she raised a hand to his face. “You’re badly cut.”
“Scratches. A bush.”
She felt the thin lines of dried blood.
“You should wash them.”
“And you should sleep.”
She curled her legs up and rested against him.
“I don’t think I can do that.”
Neither moved as the black night sky outside slowly began to lighten.
escape
35
6:07 A.M.
Morning. Jack tried to force himself to stop pacing.
Christie led the kids out in their PJs, Simon’s with the Avengers battling a bad guy, Kate in a purple T with matching pajama bottoms.
He wanted to tell them before they got dressed. Give it a few minutes to sink in.
Simon flipped the pages of one of his comics while he sat down by his sister.
“Why are we up so early?” Kate said. “Some vacation.”
Christie didn’t say anything but sat down beside her daughter.
Jack would give every dime he had for the mindless sound of a TV in the living room, blaring cartoons, news, infomercials—any goddamn thing.
And as he waited, walking from the living room to the bedroom for absolutely nothing, he checked the windows.
The guards had gone.
That was good.
No daytime guards watching over all the Paterville campers.
Things getting back to normal.
He turned to Simon, then Kate. Their faces finally registering that something was wrong with their father.
“We have to leave—”
“Leave?” Simon said. “But I like—”
Jack crouched down close to Simon, giving Kate a look as well.
“We have to leave, Si. There are bad people here. We have to go.”
Neither of the kids said anything.
Then Kate, in a small voice, said. “Bad people. You mean…”
He shot a glance at Christie, who gave Kate’s hand a squeeze. Then amazingly, miraculously, Kate understood. Don’t ask that question. Not with Simon sitting so close. The squeeze signaling,
Outside, the sky had lightened some more.
It was time to go.
Instead, they all heard a knock on their door.
There was time for just one more look at Christie before he went to answer it.
