A few minutes later, the girls arrived on the doorstep of the house Brooke had seen. They knocked, and they waited. No answer.
Chapter 7
Peyton was furious. She knew that someone was inside that house, she just knew it. And she would be damned if they were going to treat her like some vacuum salesman. They would open the door. She willed it to happen.
Brooke, meanwhile, took a more active approach. She banged on the door repeatedly, yelling at the occupants of the house, screaming for help. There was still no answer. Then she had an idea.
"Alright!" she yelled at the closed door. "We're leaving! If you don't want this check, I'm sure we can find someone else who will appreciate it!" Within seconds, the door opened in front of them.
"I don't see no check," the large woman inside said, scowling.
"That's because there isn't one," Brooke said. "But we need to use your phone. Our friend is hurt, and we need help. There is no cellular service out here, and we've got to use a land line."
"Please, help us!" Peyton said. "Just let us use your phone!"
The woman studied the two girls. "I ain't lettin' you in my house," she said. "I'll go call 911 for you, and you can just wait here on them. Right here on the porch." She shook her head. "No way you're trackin' that mud and crap in my house. No sir..." She disappeared inside the house.
A minute later, she reappeared. "They'll be here to pick you all up shortly," she said, just before slamming the door in their faces.
"Man!" Brooke said. "People these days!"
"Whatever," Peyton said. "At least she made the phone call."
"True," Brooke replied. "Now all we have to do is wait." And wait they did. The five minutes they spent sitting on the large woman's front steps were the longest either girl had ever experienced. At long last, a police car arrived. Seconds later came an ambulance. Finally, some help. But would they be in time?