Nowhere to Run by Nancy Bush Page A

jaw and maybe the hint of a dimple as he clamped his teeth together and stared at her gun. Thirtyish. In dusty jeans and a faded gray T-shirt with a list of words crossed out across its front.
    â€œYou are kidding me,” he said slowly.
    â€œYou think so?” she asked, a lump building in her throat. “I might not be able to kill you. But I could hurt you. I could do that, I’m pretty sure. If you won’t help me, I could hurt you.” She glanced at the coffee cup and read his name: AUGGIE.
    She felt tears building in the corners of her eyes.
    He stared at her another long moment, as if assessing the truth of her statement. Then he sat back in his seat, switched on the ignition and silently guided the nose of the Jeep into traffic.

Chapter 6
    She kept the gun leveled at him. It wasn’t loaded, but he didn’t know that. She had ammo stowed in her backpack, for all the good it would do her. Not that she wanted to actually hold a loaded gun on someone. For all her words she didn’t think she could hurt him or anyone else. But again, he didn’t know that.
    They were driving east, away from Laurelton toward Portland. She felt like she was in some improvisational acting scene where each player just keyed off the situation and made up their own story.
    She was crazy. Flat-out nuts. This definitely decided it. This was a crazy thing to do. And yet she wasn’t sorry. They rode in silence. The man—Auggie—seemed intent on the road but Liv could just imagine the thoughts rattling around in his head.
    It felt like an eternity, and was probably only a matter of minutes, when he drawled, “Did you have a place in mind?”
    â€œJust drive.”
    â€œI have a quarter of a tank. I can drive for a while, then I’m going to need gas.”
    She looked at the gauge, saw he was telling the truth and wanted to rail at him. How could he be so irresponsible? She wanted to scream and cry and pull out her hair, but that made her think of the unfortunate ones at Hathaway House who sank into that kind of behavior and were moved to other facilities. She’d always felt more grounded than they were, more capable, more sane, but maybe she was as wacko as they were. This was crazy.
    But right now, she was putting miles between her and her apartment, and for the first time since she’d seen the bodies at Zuma, she felt almost safe. Still, she couldn’t prevent the shudders that wracked her body. Auggie shot her a sideways glance, aware, so she lifted the .38 a bit, just to remind him.
    â€œWould you seriously shoot me when I’m driving?”
    She glared at him, resenting his insolence. “Where do you live?”
    â€œUh . . . not far from here. Toward Portland.”
    â€œAre you lying?”
    â€œ No.”
    â€œYou took a while to answer my question.”
    â€œI was just thinking about the exit I need to take. It’s coming up.”
    They were driving on Sunset Highway and getting close to the junction at 217. “Do you live alone?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œThen let’s go there.”
    She wanted just to keep driving and driving and driving, but that wasn’t prudent, either. She wondered, for a moment, if she could ditch him and just take his car. But what would she do with him?
    He passed 217 and turned off at Sylvan, winding the car up the hill. Liv gave a glance around his vehicle, thinking hard, noting the dark clothes he’d thrown into the back and the toolbox. A length of twine was wrapped around the Jeep’s back hatch, holding it down, as if maybe it popped open unexpectedly from time to time.
    They drove in silence for about twenty minutes, taking several side streets until they reached his place, a small bungalow that needed some serious repairs if the cracked sidewalk and sagging gutters were any indication. There was a breezeway between the house and one-car garage. The door to the garage was open and he pulled inside,