4th of July

Chapter 136

CAT’S FORESTER WAS RIGHT behind the Explorer, blocking it in. The keys to the Bonneville were in the ignition, and the big gold boat was facing the road.

So I buckled Ali into the backseat, got behind the wheel, and turned the key. The engine vrooomed smoothly to life. At Highway 1, I signaled to go north under a crackling, rocket-streaked sky, toward the schoolhouse. Shockingly, Allison shouted, “NO!”

I looked into the rearview mirror and saw her pale face, utterly wide-eyed. She pointed with her finger south.

“You want me to go that way?”

“Lindsay, pleeease. Hurry.”

Ali’s fear and urgency were electrifying. All I could do was trust the little girl, so I took the car south until Ali whispered from the backseat, “Turn here” at a lonely intersection.

The rat-a-tat bangs of the Fourth of July pyrotechnics overhead pumped adrenaline into my already overloaded system. There had been too much shooting recently, and I was experiencing each bang as an exploded round.

I accelerated the Bonneville up the winding dirt track that was Cliff Road, skidding around the corners like a big rig on grass. I heard Keith’s chiding voice in my mind: “You can’t do this, Lindsay. This is a luxury car.”

I drove through a starless tunnel of eucalyptus trees that finally opened into a wide mountain view. In front of and to the left of us was a round stucco house clinging to the side of the hill.

I looked again into the rearview mirror. “What now, Ali? How much farther?”

Allison pointed to the round tower of a house. Then she clapped her hands over her eyes. Her voice was barely audible.

“We’re here.”