inside the store was meager, so they could only buy five minutes, at most, for Anthony to work on the car.
Alex perused the food aisle, looking up and down, not moving toward making a decision. If Eidson got impatient he would have to make a choice—and then they would lose their decoy. Sarah was looking at a rack of batteries. Good call , Alex thought. There are a million different kinds of those.
Anthony was outside. The car's hood was open, but only slightly, and Jake was standing in front of the crack to hide it from the owner. Anthony was muttering to himself, trying to remember how to hotwire an engine.
"Let's see," he said. "It's a Ford, so the starter's going to be on the left…or the right. And the coil is probably this one at front. So here goes nothing…" He reached for the wires.
Inside, Alex had picked up a loaf of bread, and was moving toward the next aisle.
"Say, if you don't mind me asking," Eidson began, "where are your folks?"
Sarah was at a loss, but Alex quickly spun a lie. "We live a couple of miles up the Transit," he said. "The store where we live is closed, so we figured we'd walk up the road and see what we found."
Jake could bear the sight of Anthony's misguided car-theft attempts no longer. "Dammit!" he shouted. "How could you not know how to do this!?"
He forced Anthony out of the way. "The coil is at the back! You have to find where these red wires come from. The starter is at the left, but you're looking for the solenoid. Cross these two," he said, picking up the coil wire and running it to a wire on the starter. Instantly, the engine sputtered to life.
Inside, Eidson thought he heard his engine running. Alex could se him growing nervous and impatient, so he decided to play his trump card.
"We saw the chalk marking outside. Who got killed?" Sarah, meanwhile, looking out the window, saw Jake waving and making thumbs-up gestures. She tugged Alex's arm.
"Just a second!" Alex told her.
"Nobody got killed," Eidson said, remembering what the police had told him to say. They didn't want the public to get scared, so they didn't want their story out, and Eidson couldn't blame them. "A guy got punched and knocked out by some other crazy guy, and it was assault, so they wanted a crime scene."
Alex suspected that this guy wasn't giving him the whole story, but Sarah kept pulling him toward the door, so he had to leave before he could find out more. Immediately, he dropped the loaf of bread, and ran.
"Hey!" Eidson yelled, following them outside. Immediately, he saw, with a sickening feeling, that he had been right; his car was running, and the kids were getting inside. They must have hotwired it. Quickly, he ran back inside. How did they know how to do that?
When the first shouts came, it alarmed everyone except Alex, who calmly climbed into the passenger's seat beside Anthony.
"Alex!" Jake yelled. "He's chasing us!" Ordinarily, this wouldn't have been much to worry about—however, Eidson was carrying a knife.
"Let him!" Alex called, and there was definitely a streak of wild exhilaration in his voice. "Let's go! Be glad he's not using a gun—I've dodged so many bullets tonight, I'm sick of it."
All three of them looked at Alex oddly. There was something in his eyes, in his voice…it was as if he had suddenly transformed into an adventurer.
Anthony may not have been good at hotwiring a car, but he was good at driving one. The car swerved: right, left, right again, but Anthony got it under control faster than most would have. They escaped the parking lot soon enough, leaving the death site, Wayne Eidson, and his knife behind.
They held their breaths for a while after leaving, but soon relaxed again. The driving was a nice break. The movement of the car was something sure and slow, a good break from the hectic action of an hour ago.
"Do you think they've called off the search by now?" Jake
Alex perused the food aisle, looking up and down, not moving toward making a decision. If Eidson got impatient he would have to make a choice—and then they would lose their decoy. Sarah was looking at a rack of batteries. Good call , Alex thought. There are a million different kinds of those.
Anthony was outside. The car's hood was open, but only slightly, and Jake was standing in front of the crack to hide it from the owner. Anthony was muttering to himself, trying to remember how to hotwire an engine.
"Let's see," he said. "It's a Ford, so the starter's going to be on the left…or the right. And the coil is probably this one at front. So here goes nothing…" He reached for the wires.
Inside, Alex had picked up a loaf of bread, and was moving toward the next aisle.
"Say, if you don't mind me asking," Eidson began, "where are your folks?"
Sarah was at a loss, but Alex quickly spun a lie. "We live a couple of miles up the Transit," he said. "The store where we live is closed, so we figured we'd walk up the road and see what we found."
Jake could bear the sight of Anthony's misguided car-theft attempts no longer. "Dammit!" he shouted. "How could you not know how to do this!?"
He forced Anthony out of the way. "The coil is at the back! You have to find where these red wires come from. The starter is at the left, but you're looking for the solenoid. Cross these two," he said, picking up the coil wire and running it to a wire on the starter. Instantly, the engine sputtered to life.
Inside, Eidson thought he heard his engine running. Alex could se him growing nervous and impatient, so he decided to play his trump card.
"We saw the chalk marking outside. Who got killed?" Sarah, meanwhile, looking out the window, saw Jake waving and making thumbs-up gestures. She tugged Alex's arm.
"Just a second!" Alex told her.
"Nobody got killed," Eidson said, remembering what the police had told him to say. They didn't want the public to get scared, so they didn't want their story out, and Eidson couldn't blame them. "A guy got punched and knocked out by some other crazy guy, and it was assault, so they wanted a crime scene."
Alex suspected that this guy wasn't giving him the whole story, but Sarah kept pulling him toward the door, so he had to leave before he could find out more. Immediately, he dropped the loaf of bread, and ran.
"Hey!" Eidson yelled, following them outside. Immediately, he saw, with a sickening feeling, that he had been right; his car was running, and the kids were getting inside. They must have hotwired it. Quickly, he ran back inside. How did they know how to do that?
When the first shouts came, it alarmed everyone except Alex, who calmly climbed into the passenger's seat beside Anthony.
"Alex!" Jake yelled. "He's chasing us!" Ordinarily, this wouldn't have been much to worry about—however, Eidson was carrying a knife.
"Let him!" Alex called, and there was definitely a streak of wild exhilaration in his voice. "Let's go! Be glad he's not using a gun—I've dodged so many bullets tonight, I'm sick of it."
All three of them looked at Alex oddly. There was something in his eyes, in his voice…it was as if he had suddenly transformed into an adventurer.
Anthony may not have been good at hotwiring a car, but he was good at driving one. The car swerved: right, left, right again, but Anthony got it under control faster than most would have. They escaped the parking lot soon enough, leaving the death site, Wayne Eidson, and his knife behind.
They held their breaths for a while after leaving, but soon relaxed again. The driving was a nice break. The movement of the car was something sure and slow, a good break from the hectic action of an hour ago.
"Do you think they've called off the search by now?" Jake
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