Chapter 3

Abby was playing with her phone when it rang.

She jumped, unaccustomed to the sound. Her phone had been turned off for the entire drive out. She was shocked to discover that she had received five phone calls from Carter and Susan. Five calls in one day? She immediately felt guilty for not calling Susan yesterday.

Looking at the phone, she recognized Carter's number. Well, she might as well answer. "Hello?"

Carter almost dropped the phone, he was so surprised to hear her answer. He and Susan had been calling her all day yesterday, trying to find out where she was.

"Abby? Where are you? Are you okay?"

Abby was tongue-tied. She felt guilty; Carter's voice sounded so worried. Why hadn't she put in the note where she was going? Because they would have tried to come here, she reminded herself. Then she felt indignant. She wasn't a child; she didn't have to report her actions to Carter, or anyone else!

"I'm in a motel," she said.

"Where?" Carter responded quickly. He was just relieved to find out she was okay; last night, he had had all kinds of horrible dreams: Abby falling in an open manhole, Abby drowning in quicksand, Abby being trampled by runaway horses.

"Why do you want to know?" Abby's voice sounded almost angry. Why was she mad at him? He wasn't the one that had disappeared!

Carter tried to sound calm. "Because I'm worried about you. I know you were upset about everything that happened with Brian-"

"I'm fine," Abby interrupted.

"Then why are you hiding out?"

"I'm not hiding out, and I-" This time Abby interrupted herself. "I don't have to explain myself to you! If I want to live in a motel, I can!"

Carter took a deep breath. He could tell Abby wasn't herself. He was worried about her. If she was acting like this to him, and he was supposedly her friend, God only knew what else she was doing. He felt a measure of desperation; he had to find out where she was. It wasn't safe for her to be by herself. She had just been through something very stressful, and right now, she needed her friends, even if she didn't want to admit it.

"I know, and I'm not trying to make you explain yourself." His voice lowered. "I just want to know that you're okay."

This remark subdued her somewhat. "Well, I am. Thanks for calling," she said, eager to wrap up the conversation.

"Can I come and see you?"

Abby smiled. Carter sounded like a little boy asking for an ice cream cone. She wondered why he wanted to see her, then realized that he must think she was still in Chicago. He would flip if he knew were I really am, she thought. "Um, I just really want to be alone right now."

Carter knew that he was losing her. "Well, can I at least have a number where I can call you?" He knew that, with a number, he could probably find an address.

"You can call me on my cell. Look, I gotta go-"

"No, wait! Don't hang up." They were both silent for a moment. Abby was waiting for him to say something, but what could he say to bring her to her senses?

"Could you just tell me where you are?"

Abby deflected the question. "I'm safe. And I'll be back soon. I just need a little break."

Carter realized that he wasn't going to get anything else out of her. "Well, if you need anything you know you can call me, right? And if you can't reach me, call Susan. We're both really worried about you, and...I want you to come home."

Abby gripped the phone. She wanted to go home, too. She missed Carter. But the thought of going back to Chicago made her heart pound. As long as Brian was roaming the streets, she didn't want to be there. She couldn't be there. "Goodbye, Carter," she whispered into the phone.

"Take care of yourself, Abby," Carter said, wishing he was there with her, wherever she was.

With a heavy sigh, Abby hung up the phone.

____________________________________________________________________

He was behind her.

When Abby saw him, she almost swerved off the road. How had he found her? What did he want?

She knew what he wanted. Joyce.

He was getting closer. Her heart pounded, her breathing increased. What would he do to her if she wouldn't tell him?

Her teeth were chattering with fear. She had to get to a safe place, somewhere that he couldn't hurt her.

But what if he was insane? What if he had a gun, and didn't care about who saw him?

Abby imagined screeching to a halt in front of a police station, running up the steps. Brian got out of his car. He had a gun, and he aimed it directly at her back.

It sounded like a sonic boom, and felt like a tank. The bullet hit her in her back, and the force of it slammed her face into the pavement. Brian walked towards her.

"I found Joyce," he said with a sneer. "I guess that means I don't need you anymore."

She was looking directly into his eyes as he pulled the trigger.

The sirens were what snapped Abby out of her daydream. She felt like fainting in relief when she noticed the police cruiser pulling up behind her. That was when she noticed that she was going almost a hundred miles an hour. Well, at least she was safe. That was worth a speeding ticket.

The officer didn't waste any time. "Ma'am, do you realize you were doing almost one hundred in a 55 zone?"

"Someone was chasing me," she said, trying to keep her composure.

"Mhmm. And where is this pursuer?"

Abby realized that Brian was no where to be seen. Had he gone up ahead? "I...I don't know."

"Yeah. I'm sure. License and registration, please."

Abby jammed the $250 ticket into her glove compartment without even thinking about it. She had more important things to worry about. What if Brian was waiting up ahead?

The cop obviously wasn't going to be much help; he didn't even believe her. Well, she would just have to drive slowly and watch her rearview mirror.

She saw the car again when she was halfway to the motel.

Was it the same car? She couldn't be sure. But what if it was? What if he followed her to the motel, and killed her there?

You don't know that he wants to kill you, she reasoned with herself. But why else would he have followed her all this way?

So she drove. And drove. And drove. She finally lost the car after an hour's driving, but by then she was hopelessly lost.

That was when she noticed that the needle of the gas tank was on E.

I'll stop at the next station, she decided, but as she drove on and on, and the gas meter beeped again and again, she didn't pass a single exit.

Then, the moment she was dreading came. The car sputtered, coughed, and died. She knew there was no point in trying to restart it; it was out of gas. There wasn't another exit for miles; what was she going to do?

In the distance, the headlights of a car appeared on the road. Abby's heart began to pound. What if it was him?