"You're gonna love this. Plates are registered to a Dr. Leon Matese. But it's not a dark blue Saturn. It's a black BMW. And Dr. Matese has been in L. A. since last Tuesday."
"Let me guess," Pakula interrupted him. "His car's been parked at the airport."
"Yep, long-term parking lot. And the Saturn-"
"Stolen," Pakula finished.
"You got it. These boys did some planning. But a Sarpy County deputy sheriff's in pursuit south on 50."
CHAPTER 25
6:28 p.m.
Razors sliced her skin. At least that's what Melanie thought it felt like as she tried to run. If the cornstalks weren't cutting her they were whipping her face. She held her arms up in front of her but kept losing her balance, her feet stumbling over the mounds of dirt. Jared insisted they not stick to the ditches between the rows but instead run diagonally through the field, so they would stay better hidden. But it was impossible to run, one foot plunging into the indent between the rows while the other foot climbed mounds of dirt.
The stalks were stronger than she expected and closely planted. It was more like trudging through a forest of saplings than a field. She was exhausted, her chest felt as though it would explode, and each gulp of air stabbed as it went in and out of her lungs. Her legs ached now, too, and her arms felt battered and bruised. Her ears were ringing with the sound of the wind, the growing roar of thunder and somewhere the whirl of a helicopter. She expected it to swoop down into the field at any minute. Was it possible that it hadn't discovered the car yet?
She no longer had any sense of direction, and she wasn't sure they'd ever find their way out of the field. It seemed endless. And hopeless. It was difficult to determine what was the wind and what was the helicopter. But the thunder-another rumble sent a vibration through her-continued to grow. So did the lightning. The flashes made the rolling black clouds come to life. In between flashes it had become so dark Melanie could barely see Charlie in front of her. They were in a tunnel; a tunnel with whips lashing out and no end in sight.
Suddenly a gust of wind whirled overhead and Melanie found herself falling. Her knees slammed into the dirt. Her flailing arms couldn't protect her jaw and cheek from scraping down the trunk of a cornstalk, the sharp leaves rubbing her skin raw. Jared fell on top of her, smashing her legs underneath his weight.
"Stay down," she heard him whisper and felt his elbow or knee in the small of her back as if he was making sure she did as he said.
Melanie ached. He didn't have to worry about her wanting to go anywhere. She wanted to crawl into a hole and get away from all of this. She hurt all over. Then she realized the whirl of wind above them was the helicopter. She tried to quiet her breathing. With Jared on top of her she had no choice but to stay still. She couldn't move beneath his weight. The side of her face pressed against the ground, the soil actually cooling the sting on her cheek.
She lay perfectly still, waiting, waiting for the spotlight, waiting for the cornstalks to be separated and flattened, waiting for the whipping sound of blades to descend on top of them. She listened to Jared's breathing. She could hear his heart banging against her back. She could smell his sweat mixed with the corn and the dirt. Or was it fear she smelled?
Maybe it would be quick. Maybe they would simply riddle their bodies full of bullets. It didn't matter because any second the banging in her chest would surely explode. It seemed as if the helicopter was directly above them. And yet as suddenly as it appeared, it was gone. No spotlight, only the flickers of lightning. No hail of bullets, only thunder.
They laid there for what must have been minutes, but to Melanie it felt like hours. Her face was smashed into the dirt. Her chest ached. She couldn't breathe. And yet she listened. But there was only the ever-approaching thunder. Even the wind had died down. No gusts, no whirls, only a gentle rustling of the stalks.
"They're gone," Jared whispered, shoving himself off her with such force he pushed her deeper into the dirt.
"The lightning," Charlie said. "I bet they can't fly in this weather." He crawled up beside Melanie. She realized he had grabbed his backpack out of the car and was hugging it to his chest, rocking back and forth on his knees. "Do you think they saw us?"
"They had to have seen the car." Jared was trying to look over the tops of the cornstalks. "It shouldn't be much farther."
"Much farther to where?" Melanie wanted to know. "How do you even know where the hell we are?"
"Trust me. And stay close." Her brother started through the rows again. Melanie and Charlie had to scramble to their feet to catch up with him.
The thunder and lightning took turns now almost in rhythm to Jared's steps. When they finally stumbled out of the field all Melanie could see in the flickering dark were trees and brush so thick she couldn't imagine them finding their way in the pitch-black. The field was separated from the forest line by a barbed-wire fence. She could barely see the five strands of wire, but as soon as she reached out she felt a barb prick her finger.