Free Fully Loaded by Blake Crouch, J. A. Konrath Page A

her whisper, “I’m so sorry,” but Donald didn’t return the embrace, just stared at him instead.
    Sue pulled back, said, “Someone had hit her.”
    “Yeah.   But whoever did was gone by the time the police arrived.”
    “No.”
    “This occurred in a residential area, and in one of the nearby houses, someone had happened to look out a window, see a man standing in the street over my daughter.   But he was gone when the police showed up.”
    “A hit-and-run.”
    “Yeah.”
    “Oh my God.   What about your wife?   What—”
    “We separated four years ago.”
    Roger couldn’t look at him, turned instead to the summer moon, nearly full, and as large and white as he would ever see it, the Ocean of Storms clearly visible as a gray blemish two hundred thousand miles away.
    Donald said, “Sometimes, I can talk about it without ripping the stitches, but not tonight, I guess.   I better go.”   He got to his feet, leaving the scotch and cards on the blanket, and walked off into the dark.
     
    They were lying in their sleeping bags in the tent when Roger leaned over and whispered in Sue’s ear, “We have to leave right now.”
    “I was almost asleep, Roge , what are you—”
    “Just listen.”   The whites of her eyes appeared in the dark.   “I want you to quietly get dressed, put your boots on.   We’ll leave everything here, just take our wallets and keys.”
    “Why?”
    “Donald’s planning to kill us tonight.”
    Sue sat up in her sleeping bag and pushed her brown hair out of her face.   “This isn’t funny, Roger.   Not even a little—”
    “Do I sound like I’m joking?”
    “Why are you saying this?   ‘Cause he walks around with a machete and was in Vietnam and…”   Sue covered her mouth.   “Oh, Roger, no.   Oh God, please tell me…”   Sue turned away from him and buried her face in her sleeping bag.  
    Roger lay beside her, whispering in her ear.  
    “I was late for a meeting downtown.   I turned a corner on Oak Street and the coffee spilled between my legs, burned me.   I swerved, and when I looked up…  
    “At first, I just sat stunned behind the wheel, like I could will the moment away, press undo on the keyboard.   I got out and saw her on the pavement, half under the front bumper.   I looked around.   No other cars coming.   No one else in the vicinity.   Just a quiet Thursday morning, the trees turning, wet red leaves on the street.   I thought about you, about Jennifer and Michelle, all the things that could be taken from me ‘cause of one stupid fucking lapse in concentration, and the next thing I knew I was on I-94.”
    Sue was crying.   “That’s why you sold the Lexus.   Why you moved us to Eden Prairie .   How’d you keep this from me, Roger?   How did you—”
    “Live with myself?   I don’t know.   I still don’t know.”
    “Are you sure it’s him?   That Donald’s the father of the girl you hit?”
    “This thing happened in early October.   Almost six years ago.   In St. Paul .”
    “But what if it’s just a horrible coin—”  
    “I still dream about the orange shoes and blue shorts, Sue.”
    “Oh God, baby.”   She turned over and pulled her husband down onto her chest, ran her fingernails across the back of his neck.   “What do you think he’s gonna try to do to us?”
    “I don’t know, but he didn’t come all this way, follow us up into the middle of nowhere just to talk.”
    “So we just leave?   Right now?”
    “Yes.”
    “Can you get us back to the trailhead in the dark?”
    “I think so.   If not, we’ll just hide somewhere until morning.   What’s important is getting out of this tent and away from our camp as soon as possible.”
    “But he must know where we live, Roger.”   Sue sat up, faced her husband.   “He was able to find out we were coming to North Carolina .   What keeps him from doing this when we get back to Minnesota ?   Or from turning you in?”
    “I don’t think this