The Third Hill North of Town by Noah Bly Page A

up on the gas pedal.
    “Are you boys hurt?” she cried over the noise of the engine. “Ben? Steve?”
    There was no response at first and she risked taking her eyes from the road to assess the situation in the rear of the car.
    “Oh, thank heaven,” she breathed a moment later. “I thought Sheriff Burns had killed you.”
    Jon and Elijah peered up at her with twin looks of shock. They were on the floor of the backseat, where they had landed in a jumble of limbs and junk food. Both had minor cuts here and there, but otherwise appeared unhurt. Julianna, relieved, returned her attention to her driving.
    “Wait till I tell Daddy about this,” she said. She was trembling from the violence of the last few minutes and had to struggle to keep her voice cheerful. “Sheriff Burns is completely demented. ”
    “Jesus Christ,” Jon groaned, stirring.
    He slowly lifted his chin off Elijah’s ear and looked around. He was on top of the younger boy; Elijah was on his side, wedged between the seat and the floor, and Jon was sprawled across him. Jon’s face was full of horror as he stared down into Elijah’s stunned eyes.
    “Please, please tell me she didn’t just kill a cop,” Jon begged.
    Both boys were sweating profusely from fright, and neither smelled very good. Jon’s clothes were also still wet from the rainstorm, and he was dizzy from the heat in the car.
    Elijah’s lower lip quivered as he tried not to cry. “Can you get off me, please?” The makeshift bandage around his head had fallen off and the bump on his head was throbbing. “I can’t breathe.”
    Elijah felt he was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. THAT COP ALMOST KILLED ME! he kept thinking. My BRAINS were almost SPLATTERED all over this car!
    Jon rolled onto the seat with care, trying to avoid more glass. It was only then he noticed a more serious gash above his left knee. It was three inches long and looked deep.
    “Shit!” He probed at the wound and grimaced. “I’m bleeding bad!”
    The Edsel swerved as Julianna shot another glance over the seat. “You’ll be fine,” she said, recovering control of the wheel. “Apply pressure to it. Ben, get a tourniquet ready for Steve, just in case the bleeding doesn’t slow down.”
    Elijah clambered off the crushed grocery bags on the floor and gaped at the wound on Jon’s leg.
    “A tourniquet?” He looked around, dazed. “How do I do that?”
    She sighed. “Tear off another piece of that silly cape you’re wearing, and twist it into a rope.”
    Elijah and Jon shared a despairing look.
    “I think she means your shirt,” Jon whispered.
    “I know what she means,” Elijah snapped. He didn’t want to sacrifice any more of his shirt; he was positive he was going to be killed soon and he didn’t want to die half-naked. He spotted the checkered headscarf on the floor next to a bag of potato chips and held it up. “Can’t I just use this instead?”
    Julianna inspected it in the mirror and shook her head. “Absolutely not! That scarf belongs to my mother, and she’ll be furious if I ruin it.”
    “I want out of this car,” Elijah moaned. “I want out right now.”
    Julianna was calming down. She lightened her foot on the accelerator and the needle on the speedometer gradually fell into a more reasonable range. “Don’t be ridiculous, Ben,” she said. “We’re almost home.”
    This was the last straw for Elijah.
    “MY NAME IS ELIJAH !” he howled. “STOP CALLING ME BEN, BECAUSE IT’S NOT MY NAME, OKAY? AND I DON’T KNOW WHERE THE FUCK WE ARE, BUT IT’S NOWHERE NEAR MY HOME! I LIVE IN PRESCOTT FUCKING MAINE, LADY, AND YOU’RE OUT OF YOUR FUCKING MIND!”
    The scream was earsplitting, and Julianna and Jon both recoiled from the force of it. Elijah, too, seemed shocked by the immensity of what had just issued from his mouth, and they all sat still, dumbstruck, in the ringing stillness that followed his outburst.
    “Shame on you, Benjamin Taylor,” Julianna said primly, recovering