Kirsten struggled to keep her eyes open as they drove, but the rush of adrenaline caused by her fear had ceased and left her too tired. Her head dropped against the dirty, broken window and her eyes fluttered shut. It wasn't long before she had drifted off into a dead sleep.
Where was she? She'd opened her eyes and found herself in a place she'd never been before. The landscape was desolate, gray, and covered in ash. She looked behind and saw a few burnt, black twigs that used to be trees. A light breeze swept over her, blowing her hair into her face. Brushing the strands away, she surveyed her surroundings. The only other thing she saw was a black road, leading off into the distance. Having nothing else to do, she followed the road, her footsteps echoing faintly off the macadam. As she walked she searched for any signs of life, but saw no one else on or off the road. The wind whistled sadly. A gray, dirty snow began to fall slowly.
Suddenly, a flash of color to her right. Blue. Quickly she turned in time to see a girl running in the opposite direction. Her dark hair streamed behind her as she ran, and her blue dress flapped around her legs. Wait, Kirsten called to her, but the girl kept running and didn't look back. Please, I need help. Kirsten began to run after her. The gray snowflakes fell faster and thicker, swirling in front of her face and obscuring her vision. She tripped over something, tumbling to the ground and getting a face full of ash. She sat up and brushed her face clean with her hands. The blue girl was gone.
Kirsten was briefly but not fully roused from her sleep when she felt her wrist being moved. There was a vague thought that she should wake up, but instead she just shifted to a more comfortable position and continued sleeping.
She searched frantically around for the girl, and found nothing but an old, partially burnt-down house. She wandered towards it. The snowfall abated. From behind the house, smoke began to rise. Kirsten walked around the side of the house and peered around the corner to see who had started it. As she did so, everything began to fade to black.
The rest of her sleep was dreamless.
x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x
He ran. He needed to go fast, while she was still asleep. He'd tied her wrists together, and she'd stirred, and he'd been terrified that she would wake up and try to fight him. But she hadn't, and he'd taken money from her purse before running into the store.
Now he dashed through the self-checkout– the regular lines were too long. His hands were shaking slightly, and as soon as he was finished he grabbed the stuff and took off for the car.
She was still sleeping. He couldn't believe it. Relieved, he tossed the stuff in the backseat and started the car again.
So far the extent of his plan was to go up to Ventura, because he knew a guy there who would fix his car for free. Well, not exactlyfree– he'd have to pay something. Just not money.
Speaking of money, he needed some. The woman had some in her purse, but he didn't want to waste all of it on gas. Which he also needed, he realized as he saw that he was pretty much running on empty. Damn.
There. A gas station. His was the only car. As he stopped at the pump, the woman woke, looking surprised to see that her hands were tied. He shot her a warning look and got out, making sure the doors were locked. He watched her out of the corner of his eye as he filled the tank, wondering what he'd do if she tried to escape. He paid and when he sat back down in the car, she spoke.
"I need to go to the bathroom."
It was the first time she'd said anything to him, and her voice was soft and timid. He groaned.
"Fine."
He pulled into a parking space near the bathroom and, looking around to make sure no one was looking, pulled her out of the car by her elbow. He grabbed the bag and pushed her into the tiny bathroom. He stepped in after her and locked the door, placing the bag on the dirty counter. She was looking at him dubiously, with a 'Why-are-you-in-here-with-me?' expression on her face. He untied her hands and stood there.
She didn't move. After a few tense moments of silence he turned to face the door. She still made no move toward the toilet.
"I'm not leaving, " he said. He heard her frustrated sigh, followed by the sound of movement. He focused intensely on the door, wondering how long it takes to dye hair. Hopefully not too long, because whoever worked at the gas station would get suspicious if they were in the bathroom for an hour.
He waited until she'd washed her hands to turn around, then went to the counter and dumped the contents of the bag onto the counter. There was a pair of scissors, a box of brown hair dye, and some cheap clothes. He got to work, simply cutting her hair straight across, at shoulder length. It didn't look too good, but it wasn't like he'd ever cut a woman's hair before. He had to read the instructions for the hair dye several times, and by the time he was done, Kirsten's hair was a mousy brown. She frowned at her reflection in the cracked mirror. He handed her the clothes and ordered her to change before turning to face the door again. He held the scissors, because he didn't want her getting any crazy ideas about stabbing him with them.
He'd had to guess her clothing size, but hadn't done a very good job, as the clothes hung too loose on her thin frame. He shoved her old clothes into the trash can, and they went back to the car. Once on the road, he was struck by another idea. The name 'Kirsten' wasn't exactly common, and he couldn't call her that in public lest there was a missing persons notice about her on TV and people knew her name. So he needed to call her something else.
"From now on, you're not going by Kirsten. I'm gonna call you...Grace."
x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x
Summer blinked and squinted, then held up her hand to block the morning sun's rays from shining right into her eyes. She was lying down on the Cohens' sofa, where she'd slept that night. Much to her surprise, the Cohens had not blamed her for Kirsten's disappearance. What they had done was file a missing persons report, and decided to go looking for any sign of the Lexus as soon as possible (which was today).
There was something profoundly different in the Cohen household. It was too silent. Neither Seth nor Mr. Cohen talked. Ryan didn't either, but that was nothing new. Seth, on the other hand...Seth being not talkative scared Summer.
The evening before, Julie had been thoughtful enough to bring a little suitcase full of Summer's clothes, since no one knew how long Summer would be staying with the Cohens. Now, Summer carried the suitcase to the bathroom and searched for something suitable to wear. She ended up wearing dark blue jeans and a light blue sweater.
She didn't know why, but she just felt like wearing blue today.