The three of us sail through the front door, and Cain digs keys out of his pocket. We dive inside the black demon car, and Cain starts the ignition and steps on the gas. On our way down the drive, we pass Eric's gold sedan.
"Where to?" Cain asks.
"You don't have a plan?" Poppet shrieks.
He shakes his head. "Not past keeping the car keys and hitting that prick, Jack." Cain glances at me. "I watched you through the kitchen window. I won't apologize."
"Turn here!" I yell.
Cain jerks the car to the right and pushes the car as fast as it'll go.
"Where'd you learn to hit like that?" Poppet asks Cain, bouncing in her seat.
"Keep driving until I say." I stare forward, trying to gauge how far we are from my intended destination. My body itches for movement, to run ahead of the car and expend some nerves. I'm a ball of tension, glancing in the rearview mirror every ten seconds. If we see Eric's headlights, it's over. As it stands, my plan may not work for a slew of reasons.
My hope rests on Lola and her convincing Madam Karina and the others that she saw us going left down the road. She'll help, because the longer they search for us, the more time she'll have to slip away unnoticed. But Pox isn't a large town, and it won't take long for Eric to decide we went in the other direction.
How can I help? Wilson asks. I know I tried to take over back there, but I'm better now.
Just let me think.
Right-o. Thinking is your territory. I'm the doer. Let me know if you need any doing.
We're two hundred yards away when I tell Cain to pull into a field on the left. The property looks deserted, an old ramshackle house and a front yard filled with busted tires and a scarecrow that's missing an arm. I tell Cain to park wherever, and we get out.
Cain grabs Poppet's bag from the backseat of the car, and Poppet props her elephant on her hip like an infant. The two give me a questioning look.
"We'll walk from here," I explain. "If they're looking for the car, or have a tracking device on it, we don't want them to find us in it."
"But where are we going?" Poppet asks, her bare feet disappearing into the tall, dry grass.
I point forward. "We'll skirt along the side of the road, but not on it. It should only take us a few minutes to get there."
It's Cain who finally figures it out. "You want to jump the train."
"I've done it before. It's how I left home." It's something I've never told anyone, not even Dizzy. He knew I loved them, the trains, but he didn't know why. Not the whole truth, anyway. Not the fact that a train often has empty cars perfect for desperate travelers. Not that the horn sounds, to me, like a beacon of hope and renewal. He only knew I loved them as a child. Not that they served as my salvation.
Chapter Fifty-Nine
Back Pocket Hope
The three of us step over barbed wire fences, and voluptuous cow patties, and deep holes where rattlesnakes might lie. And eventually, we spot the tracks in the distance. Cain, Poppet, and I bunker down nearby, and wait an entire dread-filled hour before I hear the telltale sound of a train approaching.
I run out from our hiding spot, and Cain jogs beside me. Poppet hangs back, ready. Cain and I position ourselves on the tracks, arms waving wildly, ice forming in my lungs. The train travels closer, bright lights cutting through the darkness. It's a unit freight train, no passengers, one type of cargo. I love this type of train-the simplicity, the efficiency. It does one thing and it does it right. And tonight, it just may save our hides.
The red-and-white arms descend on either side, and a yellow flashing bulb illuminates Poppet's face. And then, farther down the road, a vehicle appears. A red siren swirls on the hood, dirt kicking up in a cloud behind the gold sedan.
The ice in my lungs shoots to my fingertips. Eric has found us. Even if the train slows enough for us to jump aboard, we may not make it. Cain and I exchange a look and wave our arms faster. My heart sledgehammers in my chest, and Poppet screams over and over that Eric is coming.
The train engineer spots us and hits the brakes. A screeching sound blocks out anything else. The sound of Poppet yelling-gone. The sound of Eric's manic siren-gone. Now there is only this metal fiend rocking down the tracks, attempting to slow its momentum. The driver doesn't want to kill us, but he will anyway if we don't move.
This isn't a suicide mission, so I grab Cain's arm and we lunge off the tracks. The whoosh of air throws me off-balance, and Cain has to jerk me upright before I lose my footing.
"There! there!" Poppet points to the first open train car she sees, and together we start running. The train hasn't stopped, but it might be slow enough now that we can attempt boarding it.