little girl? The mariachi band? Is it my fault? I’m staggering backward, my knees shaking uncontrollably, when I hear a wounded crying. Even though every bone in my body doesn’t want to do it, I follow the sound to the truck bed. The lamb is in there, wrapped in a tight ball.
“Honey?”
Bleating a low cry, Honey rises to his shaky legs and pulls himself down the truck bed toward me. When he gets to the open gate, he falls off the side and smashes into the ground. Walk away, Vivian. You can’t save him. I slowly back up, and Honey climbs to his feet and tries to follow me, but his legs are shaking, and he crumples face-first into the dirt. I can’t just leave him here to die.
I slowly lower my hands to the ground. “Please don’t bite me,” I say as I wrap my hands under his belly and lift him up. He cradles his head against my chest as I cross the road and walk up into the mountains. I don’t look back.
By now my legs are so tired I’m stumbling. I’ve put Honey down only once so he could drink water from a stream, and my arms ache from wrist to shoulder from carrying him. Even counting all-night film shoots, I don’t think I’ve ever been this exhausted, but my mind is still wide awake. I’ll reach Rosales soon. Roberto will take me to the safe house, and we’ll look for Nick. I have to find him. And then, for the thousandth time, my mind tortures me with how much I wish Nick were still here, but more than anything, how I wish I could call Mom, and have her tell me how everything will be okay, and that I have a whole story left to write. But here on the deserted mountainside, it feels like my story’s ending. It’s a story with a tragic ending, one where the heroine starves to death on the side of a mountain, all alone, with only a lamb to keep her company.
I wonder if Pierre misses me, and if Dad is frantically searching for me, or if he hasn’t even noticed I’m gone. I wonder what happened to the girl I was before Mom died, and if I’ll ever get her back. Even though it’s only been six months, I can hardly remember who that girl was.
How can so much change in so little time? My head starts to feel heavy, and my legs stick like magnets to the ground . I can’t go on. I’m too tired. Once again, I wish I were the person Mom thought I was: strong, capable of anything . I can’t even build a fire or find food to save my life. I realize that Nick was right about me: I’m just a spoiled princess who needs someone else to save her. And that’s all I’ll ever be.
I’m not paying attention to where I’m going anymore, just up, up, up. But as I come over another small hill, I’m startled back to reality by two mangy dogs, eating a long, furry carcass. The feral dogs are what you really have to watch out for, I remember Nick saying. They’re everywhere, and a pack of them will rip you to shreds. Stifling tears, I back up as slowly as I can, nestling Honey tightly to me. I wish Nick were here. He’d know what to do. I try to picture the beach, my favorite café, anything—but it’s no use. I keep seeing myself being eaten by hungry animals. I’m going to die all alone out here, torn to pieces by wild beasts.
Suddenly Honey thrashes in my arms, and then he starts squealing the highest pitched squeal I’ve ever heard. The dogs look up from the bloody carcass, and as I slowly stumble backward, they crouch down and stalk toward me, growling. I retreat until my back is against a jagged cliff wall, Honey squealing louder and louder every second, and I can’t stop thinking that years from now, someone will find my leg bone or elbow joint, and DNA will prove it was me. The missing child star? they’ll say. Vivian who?
The boom of a shotgun rattles through the cliff behind me, and the dogs take off running. Then someone jumps onto the ground in front of me, trapping me against the cliff. News headlines of people being tortured to death fill my mind: Vivian Divine was found with her
“Honey?”
Bleating a low cry, Honey rises to his shaky legs and pulls himself down the truck bed toward me. When he gets to the open gate, he falls off the side and smashes into the ground. Walk away, Vivian. You can’t save him. I slowly back up, and Honey climbs to his feet and tries to follow me, but his legs are shaking, and he crumples face-first into the dirt. I can’t just leave him here to die.
I slowly lower my hands to the ground. “Please don’t bite me,” I say as I wrap my hands under his belly and lift him up. He cradles his head against my chest as I cross the road and walk up into the mountains. I don’t look back.
By now my legs are so tired I’m stumbling. I’ve put Honey down only once so he could drink water from a stream, and my arms ache from wrist to shoulder from carrying him. Even counting all-night film shoots, I don’t think I’ve ever been this exhausted, but my mind is still wide awake. I’ll reach Rosales soon. Roberto will take me to the safe house, and we’ll look for Nick. I have to find him. And then, for the thousandth time, my mind tortures me with how much I wish Nick were still here, but more than anything, how I wish I could call Mom, and have her tell me how everything will be okay, and that I have a whole story left to write. But here on the deserted mountainside, it feels like my story’s ending. It’s a story with a tragic ending, one where the heroine starves to death on the side of a mountain, all alone, with only a lamb to keep her company.
I wonder if Pierre misses me, and if Dad is frantically searching for me, or if he hasn’t even noticed I’m gone. I wonder what happened to the girl I was before Mom died, and if I’ll ever get her back. Even though it’s only been six months, I can hardly remember who that girl was.
How can so much change in so little time? My head starts to feel heavy, and my legs stick like magnets to the ground . I can’t go on. I’m too tired. Once again, I wish I were the person Mom thought I was: strong, capable of anything . I can’t even build a fire or find food to save my life. I realize that Nick was right about me: I’m just a spoiled princess who needs someone else to save her. And that’s all I’ll ever be.
I’m not paying attention to where I’m going anymore, just up, up, up. But as I come over another small hill, I’m startled back to reality by two mangy dogs, eating a long, furry carcass. The feral dogs are what you really have to watch out for, I remember Nick saying. They’re everywhere, and a pack of them will rip you to shreds. Stifling tears, I back up as slowly as I can, nestling Honey tightly to me. I wish Nick were here. He’d know what to do. I try to picture the beach, my favorite café, anything—but it’s no use. I keep seeing myself being eaten by hungry animals. I’m going to die all alone out here, torn to pieces by wild beasts.
Suddenly Honey thrashes in my arms, and then he starts squealing the highest pitched squeal I’ve ever heard. The dogs look up from the bloody carcass, and as I slowly stumble backward, they crouch down and stalk toward me, growling. I retreat until my back is against a jagged cliff wall, Honey squealing louder and louder every second, and I can’t stop thinking that years from now, someone will find my leg bone or elbow joint, and DNA will prove it was me. The missing child star? they’ll say. Vivian who?
The boom of a shotgun rattles through the cliff behind me, and the dogs take off running. Then someone jumps onto the ground in front of me, trapping me against the cliff. News headlines of people being tortured to death fill my mind: Vivian Divine was found with her
Similar Books
