Rick Rellen, Paul Chem held a phone in his hand as he drove.
They’re calling in to each other, she thought. He’s saying, “I checked the K Mart lot and the Twenty Outlets Under One Roof lot. What’s my next assignment?”
Was the whole city literally looking for her? Was this an actual team? A squad? People with training? Had somebody said, “Everybody who wants to hunt Alice meet before school, and we’ll divide up the city and suburbs and have a hotline so we can update each other.”
If this were true, then Alice had become entertainment.
Girl murders father; high school turns out; better than a car wash! Better than a football game!
After all, they’re tired of tag sales and bargain hunting. Why not hunt a person? A cheap safari, so to speak. And you get on television if you pull it off.
How dare they!
How dare her classmates turn against her! Hunt her down, eyes scanning crowds, phones ready, gas tanks full!
Alice wanted her mother so badly. Who else could stop this invasion? Who else would know how awful it was, and hug her, and keep her safe?
But to reach her mother…
No. There was too much in between.
She could not bear to be caught by these boys. Caught like an animal—a bad dog that had gotten off its leash and had had to be brought home and tied up.
No. They would not catch her.
Alice ducked down behind parked cars and watched Paul Chem circle. There was no question about his intent. He was searching for something, and it could only be her. Finally the Jeep headed for a distant exit that had its own traffic lights and would leave Paul heading in the wrong direction to locate her.
She stood up, feeling protected by the cars parked behind Bagel Deluxe, but she was wrong.
Paul Chem leaned out of his Jeep, skidded on a turn, and shouted, “Alice!”
Chapter 8
A LICE FLUNG HERSELF AROUND Bagel Deluxe and across the six lanes of traffic. Cars would brake in time, or they wouldn’t.
Paul Chem would be blocked by the concrete curbs, the raised gardens, parked cars, and a complex series of traffic lights. Would he abandon his precious Jeep and come after her on foot? Alice bet that he would not.
Cars honked as if they were in a marching band. Alice made it across and darted down a side street.
She was on the edge of the city. Low buildings were like foothills before the mountains of downtown. The side streets were all one-way. Alice doubled over a block until she was running the wrong way on a one-way street; the Jeep could not follow her here.
In the distance, a city bus belched smoke as it slowed for a stop. Alice had never been on a bus. Her neighborhood had no public transportation. Was that bus her answer, or was it a fifty-seat trap, and if she got on, strange faces would glint with the thrill of capture, shouting, “You! You’re the one!”
She was shocked to hear an engine behind her. This was a one-way street! Cars could only come toward her! She flung a look over her shoulder.
Paul Chem was so eager to capture her that he had taken his precious Jeep and was actually driving against traffic to pursue Alice.
Alice was furious. She fled down an alley. Would this be like television? Trapped at a dead end by ten-foot-high chain link and topped with rolls of slicing wire?
A garbage truck was backing up as it picked up trash, its automatic horn beeping steadily. Alice squeezed by. The Jeep could not follow. Alice burst out of the alley.
Like pus from a blister, she thought. There was something putrid and stinking about being chased.
Paul’s friends would have vaulted out of the Jeep so they could run wherever she ran. Their legs were longer, stronger, and not yet tired. She had no hope.
How would they stop her? A flying tackle? Shove her up against a wall? Grab her wrists and pinion them behind her back?
She raced across another main thoroughfare, fled the wrong way up another street, and through another service alley.
It seemed to her that every face she saw was familiar. She
They’re calling in to each other, she thought. He’s saying, “I checked the K Mart lot and the Twenty Outlets Under One Roof lot. What’s my next assignment?”
Was the whole city literally looking for her? Was this an actual team? A squad? People with training? Had somebody said, “Everybody who wants to hunt Alice meet before school, and we’ll divide up the city and suburbs and have a hotline so we can update each other.”
If this were true, then Alice had become entertainment.
Girl murders father; high school turns out; better than a car wash! Better than a football game!
After all, they’re tired of tag sales and bargain hunting. Why not hunt a person? A cheap safari, so to speak. And you get on television if you pull it off.
How dare they!
How dare her classmates turn against her! Hunt her down, eyes scanning crowds, phones ready, gas tanks full!
Alice wanted her mother so badly. Who else could stop this invasion? Who else would know how awful it was, and hug her, and keep her safe?
But to reach her mother…
No. There was too much in between.
She could not bear to be caught by these boys. Caught like an animal—a bad dog that had gotten off its leash and had had to be brought home and tied up.
No. They would not catch her.
Alice ducked down behind parked cars and watched Paul Chem circle. There was no question about his intent. He was searching for something, and it could only be her. Finally the Jeep headed for a distant exit that had its own traffic lights and would leave Paul heading in the wrong direction to locate her.
She stood up, feeling protected by the cars parked behind Bagel Deluxe, but she was wrong.
Paul Chem leaned out of his Jeep, skidded on a turn, and shouted, “Alice!”
Chapter 8
A LICE FLUNG HERSELF AROUND Bagel Deluxe and across the six lanes of traffic. Cars would brake in time, or they wouldn’t.
Paul Chem would be blocked by the concrete curbs, the raised gardens, parked cars, and a complex series of traffic lights. Would he abandon his precious Jeep and come after her on foot? Alice bet that he would not.
Cars honked as if they were in a marching band. Alice made it across and darted down a side street.
She was on the edge of the city. Low buildings were like foothills before the mountains of downtown. The side streets were all one-way. Alice doubled over a block until she was running the wrong way on a one-way street; the Jeep could not follow her here.
In the distance, a city bus belched smoke as it slowed for a stop. Alice had never been on a bus. Her neighborhood had no public transportation. Was that bus her answer, or was it a fifty-seat trap, and if she got on, strange faces would glint with the thrill of capture, shouting, “You! You’re the one!”
She was shocked to hear an engine behind her. This was a one-way street! Cars could only come toward her! She flung a look over her shoulder.
Paul Chem was so eager to capture her that he had taken his precious Jeep and was actually driving against traffic to pursue Alice.
Alice was furious. She fled down an alley. Would this be like television? Trapped at a dead end by ten-foot-high chain link and topped with rolls of slicing wire?
A garbage truck was backing up as it picked up trash, its automatic horn beeping steadily. Alice squeezed by. The Jeep could not follow. Alice burst out of the alley.
Like pus from a blister, she thought. There was something putrid and stinking about being chased.
Paul’s friends would have vaulted out of the Jeep so they could run wherever she ran. Their legs were longer, stronger, and not yet tired. She had no hope.
How would they stop her? A flying tackle? Shove her up against a wall? Grab her wrists and pinion them behind her back?
She raced across another main thoroughfare, fled the wrong way up another street, and through another service alley.
It seemed to her that every face she saw was familiar. She
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