Page 34 of The Stranger
“We don’t have time for that. Most likely, none of them work anyway. We have to go now, Walker. Please.” I’m dizzy. My head spins with possibilities as I slam into brick wall after brick wall in my mind. Nothing will work. Nothing will bring him back or erase the blood in the lobby. Nothing will fix his car or get us out of this mess. Nothing will make this horrible night go away.
I just want to wake up in my bed, safe and warm and cozy, and realize this has all been a bad dream.
“Yeah, of course, but how are we going to—” Before he can finish the thought, a door shuts behind me, and I hear people talking. I spin around to find the man I saw earlier and a woman with brassy-blonde hair walking toward their car, too lost in conversation to notice us.
It’s our only hope.
I rush forward. “Please. Can you give us a ride?”
The couple jumps back, grabbing hold of each other, clearly shocked to see me come out of nowhere.
“Oh! You scared me. We didn’t see you there.” The woman pats her hand against her chest, eyes wide. She’s older than me by several years. Motherly, if not grandmotherly. Kind. I trust her in an instant. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”
“Our car tires were slashed and we need a ride.” Walker gestures toward the car behind us. “Could you help us? I have cash. I can give you gas money. Whatever you need. We just have to get out of here.”
“Slashed tires?” She looks over my shoulder at the car, then exchanges a wary glance with the man. “I don’t know…”
“Where ya goin’?” The man eyes us suspiciously, his gaze bouncing between the two of us and the car.
“Literally wherever you will take us. We were on our way to St. Louis, but you can drop us off anywhere that’s convenient on your way. We’re desperate at this point. Please. We have no cell service, the phone lines here at the motel are down, and we just, we need to get out of here.” I consider telling them about Ernest, but something inside my head warns me not to. If they know how serious the danger is, I worry they’ll be in such a rush to get away from this place, they won’t let us ride with them. Or, worse, they’ll think we’re dangerous.
“Cell towers do seem to be down.” She gives us a sympathetic nod. “This place doesn’t even have Wi-Fi. I keep trying to let my daughter know I’m okay, but I can’t get a hold of her.” She draws in one side of her mouth, studying us apprehensively.
Next to me, Walker pulls out a hundred-dollar bill and offers it to her. “Here. Please. To get us as far as you can. At least until we have service to call for help. Please. We have no other options. We’re stranded here.”
A slow puff of air escapes her lips. “Alright. Should we wake the other one, too?” She waves a hand toward the third room that appears to be occupied and the gray Toyota sitting in the parking lot. “Warn him? There was another man staying in that room. I saw him earlier. I don’t think anyone else was with him, but I can’t be sure. Maybe we should tell him we’re leaving and warn him to keep an eye on his car if nothing else.” The man she’s talking about is the only guest we haven’t seen. The light is still on inside his room, so it’s possible he’s awake. “Or we could wake the manager to see if he has security footage from the parking lot.” She lifts her head, scanning the building for signs of a camera. “Maybe he could figure out who slashed your tires.”
“No. We should just go.” Walker takes a step toward me, placing a hand on my shoulder, and I know we’re both thinking the same thing. If they go looking for Ernest, there’s a chance they’ll find him. And, with his body in our bathroom, we’ll look guilty as sin. “It’s late, and they’re both probably sleeping. I’ll let my insurance company deal with it. We should get out of here before something worse happens.”
“Worse than the tires?” The man’s gray eyebrows dip together.
I nod. “Right. Worse than the tires.” I’m surprised Walker hasn’t told them about Ernest, but somehow, we seem to be in silent agreement. The less they know, the less we tell them, the better.
“Okay.” The woman rests her hands on her hips with a huff. “Well, I suppose you can ride with us as long as you don’t cause any trouble. It’s the holidays, after all. I’d hope someone would give a ride to my daughter and her boyfriend if she needed it.”
Walker removes his hand from my shoulder just as I say, “Oh, he’s not my boyfriend.”
The woman isn’t paying attention. “Come on, kids. Get in before we all freeze to death out here.”
“Thank you so much.” I hurry toward the car as she opens the driver’s door and gestures for me to follow her lead.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
WALKER
“I’ll be right back,” I tell Tibby, waving a hand at her as she slips into the back seat of the strangers’ car. I try to slow my breathing. I’m doing my best to keep calm, to be stronger than I am so I don’t scare Tibby, but it’s not easy.
The image of Ernest’s body flashes in my mind every time I close my eyes. The blood trickling down his neck, his lifeless, gray skin.
I hate that this is happening. Hate that she had to see him like that.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I shake my head, willing the thoughts away. There is no time to fall apart right now. I have to be quick about this. Tibby’s waiting, and I don’t want to scare her or leave her alone with them for too long. I lug my suitcase toward my car, my hands frozen solid on the handle, teeth chattering.
My mind is a mess as I flash back to pulling that curtain aside and seeing the body again. Seeing her face as she stared at the body. Nothing about that was right.
Nothing about this whole situation is right.
He’s just…dead. He’s gone.