“Are you okay?” Dad asked.
“Are you?” I shot back.
“No,” he said quietly. “No I suppose not.”
We drove the rest of the way in tense silence. When we turned onto Turner Street with its tidy little houses and neatly mowed lawns I directed Dad to the correct address. He pulled up behind Mr. Livingston’s car and turned off the engine.
“To save gas,” he said.
Together we got out and walked to the front door.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Dad asked in a strained voice.
I straightened my shoulders. “I’m sure.”
For the second time in less than twenty four hours I knocked on Mr. Livingston’s front door. I don’t know why. Habit, I suppose. Seconds passed. Nothing happened and I felt like an idiot. What had I expected, that Travis would just open the door and say, ‘Hey guys! Good to see you!’?
Dad touched my arm. “Lola, we should just -”
The door started to open. We both stepped back, our expressions equally nervous.
“Hey guys! Good to see you.”
My mouth dropped open. “Travis?”
“Uh, yeah. Were you expecting someone else after you left me here to die with a WWE vampire? Who, by the way, is definitely not Mr. Livingston. In fact I think he might have actually eaten the poor guy, which would explain the smell coming up from the basement. Your choice of cars to steal was impeccable, Lola. Really.”
It was definitely Travis. I leaped forward and wrapped my arms around him. I might have had reservations about hugging my father, but with Travis such things were simply natural.
I felt him shudder and my grip tightened. “I’m sorry,” I murmured in his ear. “I’m so sorry, Trav. I never would have left…”
“But the big bad vampire scared you off?” he finished for me. “Don’t worry. You know I would have done the same thing.”
I searched his eyes. He looked tired, his clothes were wrinkled, his red hair disheveled, but he was alive. It was more than I had ever dared hope for. “Come on.” I entwined my fingers with his and tugged him out of the house. “We have a car and supplies and we’re heading for the mountains until this whole thing gets sorted out.” How easy I made it sound. Almost as if we were taking a fun vacation.
“Hey Mr. V,” said Travis as we race walked back to the car. “Nice to see you’re not dead.”
Dad tried to smile. It came off more as a grimace. He had never understood Travis’s humor. “Same to you,” he said.
We made room for Travis between the duffel bags and cases of water. He squeezed in, his long legs and lanky arms stretching clear across the backseat.
“You didn’t seem surprised when I said that guy was a vampire,” he said once we had backed out of the driveway and were heading east, towards the interstate.
“That’s because I wasn’t.” I twisted around in my seat and told him all about my encounter with Maximus. He listened silently, his expression revealing nothing, which was kind of odd since Travis was a wear your heart on your sleeve kind of guy.
“And now you’re going to the mountains?” he asked when I had finished.
“There are some cabins up there that we stayed at when I was a little kid,” I said. The cabins weren’t much to speak of. Small, two room buildings made out of logs. But they were in the middle of no where, which was a big plus, and the stream that ran alongside them would provide fresh water. It was as good a place as any to lay low.
“Mr. V, I hate to ask this but…” Travis trailed off and swallowed hard, his adams apple bobbing.
Dad’s eyes met his in the rearview mirror. “I’m sorry Travis. I can’t,” he said.
“I understand,” said Travis, looking close to tears.
I remained silent. I knew what Travis had wanted to ask and I knew why Dad had said no. I went back to staring out the window and tried not to think about Travis’s parents. Tried not to think about how his mom had always called to check up on him and it drove him nuts, and how I always thought, but never said out loud, how lucky he was to have a mom who cared enough to call.
The houses faded away as we got closer to the exit for the interstate. Now there were only trees that blurred together in one long line of green. Neither Travis nor I mentioned that Dad was going well over ninety. Who was going to pull us over? The police? I bit the inside of my cheek to stifle the snort of laughter that threatened to escape. As if there was -
It happened so fast I didn’t have time to react. One second the car was barreling down the road and the next the wheels were squealing and Dad was screaming and I caught only a fleeting glance of the crater in the middle of the earth where the road used to be. I was thrown to the side. My head cracked hard against the window. Dad’s airbag deployed. It sounded like an explosion. I heard Travis yell out. The car bucked once before it hurtled off the side of the road and into the ditch.
Too fast. We were moving too fast. I threw my hands up in front of my face. The tree was right in front of us. The car never had a chance.
The collision shot me forward out of my seat. As I flew towards the windshield all I could think was all things considered, dying in a car accident wasn’t the worse way to go.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Everything was black.
That, more than anything else, brought on the panic. It rolled over me in waves until it sucked me under and I was drowning in it. My mind flashed through the last five seconds of memory over and over again, like a film reel stuck on repeat.
Braking. Spinning. Screaming. Flying.
Braking. Spinning. Screaming. Flying.
Braking. Spinning. Screaming. Flying.
Above me I heard voices. The words were broken up. My ears were buzzing. I tried to concentrate on what was being said. I needed something, anything to distract me from the darkness.
“…out of nowhere. Couldn’t… in time.”
“Is… dead? Oh God, all… blood.”
“…move her? Is it okay… move her?”
“I… know. I DON’T KNOW!”
“Stop yelling.” The words come out of my mouth sluggishly, like I was trying to speak through molasses. I heard a sharp intake of breath. A muffled sob.
“Lola, you’re alive.” Travis.
“Everything is going to be okay, baby. You hear me? Everything will be fine. Can you… Can you move anything? Your fingers? Your toes?” Dad.
Of course I could move my fingers. I could move everything. Nothing hurt. There was no pain. But I couldn’t see. Why couldn’t I see?
“Travis, look! She’s moving her fingers. She’s moving her fingers!”
You’d think I just won a gold medal at the Olympics. I sat up and reached out, my awesome fingers stretching towards what I could hear but not see. Someone locked their hand with mine. Travis. I could tell that girly grip anywhere.
“I went through the windshield and I’m alive,” I said, my voice oddly detached, as if it belonged to someone else. I went through a windshield and I’m alive. That was strange. Didn’t people die when they went through windshields? Maybe not. Maybe they just went blind.
“You’re alive,” said Travis. He squeezed my fingers. In the background I heard quiet weeping. Dad. Still not very good in crisis situations.
“Travis,” I whispered. “I can’t see. Why can’t I see?”
“Lola, your eyes are closed.”
Oh. That made sense. The rush of color was nearly overwhelming when I forced my eyelids apart. I cringed away from it, away from the scrap of metal that vaguely resembled a car, away from the glass that covered everything, away from the blood that covered the glass. Instead I looked down at myself, examining the cuts that sliced through my flesh like I had been wrapped in thin red ribbons. I touched my face and didn’t need to glance at my fingertips to know they would come away bloody. I could feel the blood, running down my cheekbones, sliding into the corners of my mouth, dripping off my chin.