Free The Soul Seekers by Amy Saia Page A

over there—I think. That has to be where it is. Let’s wait until those men leave and we can look for it.”
    “What in the hell where you doing in someone’s van?”
    “Long story.”
    “I’m really starting to wonder about you. Here I’ve left my gig to save your ass, while you’ve been hanging out in someone’s van?”
    “It’s not like that. ”
    “What is it then?” His eyes narrowed, hands pressed hard around the steering wheel.
    As the group of men came toward us, Jesse revved the car loud. They halted their step. “You’d better tell me something because I’m getting really pissed off.”
    “I think I’m still high.”
    “You’re what ?”
    “The drink. Something was in my drink.”
    Marcus reached out to grab at my door handle.
    “Jesse, go!”
    Jesse fumbled with the steering wheel and let out a curse. He shifted gears, sending the car forward with spinning tires.
    I threw on a seatbelt as he chartered us down Main at high speed. He had to swerve to avoid the crowd, but never eased up. In a few minutes we were well into the undivided perimeters of town, but it was a long time before he slowed down, eyes glued to the road ahead.
    Jesse repeated, “Who was in the van with you?”
    “No one. Just a guy that hangs out at the library every day.” And he faded. He faded right in front of me. My mind replayed the scene in slow motion.
    “ Just a guy ,” he said in a mocking tone. “No guy is ever just a guy, Emma. We’re all,” he struggled to find an appropriate word, “monsters.”
    “Nothing happened. He must have the coin.”
    Jesse shook his head, disbelief crossing the planes of his face. The car skidded to a dead halt on the gravel road. “You gave him the coin.”
    “I didn’t give it to him, but I can’t find it, so. . . .”
    “You gave him the only thing that would pay my way out of here. I’ve been waiting my whole life to get out of this rat hole and you just give it away? Dammit!”
    With a groan Jesse slid down into his seat, fingers pressing into the bridge of his nose.
    “I’m sorry.”
    “Did you kiss him?”
    “No.”
    “Well, that’s a relief. I can die easy now, knowing I’m not the only guy Emma Shay has rejected.”
    “Enough already.”
    Jesse played with the keys that dangled from the ignition for a second. He leaned over and I heard the click of a door lock being flipped up.
    I let out a little gasp.
    He spoke low. “What’s wrong? Still don’t trust me?”
    I refused to answer.
    He shoved open the passenger door. “Out.”
    Grabbing my purse, I stepped onto gravel, wincing as he revved the car to a viciously loud roar. We glared at each other. When he saw I wasn’t going to throw myself at him, he gave an angry shake of his head and hit the gas. The Camaro sped away, roiling the air with dust, abandoning me.
    I should have thrown rocks. I wanted to throw rocks.
    After watching the taillights recede into nothingness, I started to walk. I took off my shoes, and the gravel crunched and rolled under my feet. The wind blew through the dark cornfields and twisted in my hair like a hot, invisible thread. I watched the horizon and the ominous bluffs rising up to the moon.
    I began to run. It felt good to run. The wind took my hair and flung it up into the air. It swooshed into my skirt and flew around my thighs. Running felt like I was going somewhere, like time would never end, like no one would ever die. Not Dad, not William. No one.
    The tightness in my chest spread into a burn as I pushed harder and shoved each leg out, one after the other. Aluminum tabs from soda cans littered the gravel. I dodged them, though the gravel itself pricked into my soles. I recalled being a child and running down the street because I had spilled paint in the garage. The gravel had hurt then, cutting into soft flesh that was easily healed by sympathetic kisses. My feet were tougher now, and I welcomed each puncture that met my skin.
    Finally I saw the lights of town