Chapter 21

Down the long hallway, I run towards the stairs. Trying not to trip over my own feet I sprint towards the office. The door is locked and there is a closed sign on the window nearby.

“Please! Open the door! I need help!” I shout out as I pound on the door. Maybe there is someone inside and they will hear me.

No one comes out. I press my ear against the door but hear no movement or noise inside. Panicked, I scan the area for a place to hide. There is nowhere to go, just a parking lot with a handful of cars.

I have mere seconds before Mrs. Whitmore will realize I have left and will come looking for me. She may be weak from the poison taking over, but all she needs is a clear shot and I’m done for.

I run towards the parked cars, maybe I can hide between them? I get between a pickup truck and a SUV and crouch down. Maybe I can stay here, and she won’t see me. I look up to the second story of the motel and have a perfect view of the door. My stomach sinks as I realize this won’t work. I’m too exposed.

I jump up, desperately scanning the area when I see it. Inside the bed of the pickup truck are gardening tools and a folded tarp. Stepping onto the wheel to hoist myself up, I pull my body up and over. I throw out the tarp and quickly climb under it, pressing my body against the side of the truck in an attempt to conceal myself.

I can’t see a thing, but I dare not move. Any minute now Mrs. Whitmore will be out here. A jolt runs through my body as I hear a door slam. I hold my breath and try my best to listen.

A slight clanging on the stairway is the only indication that she is on the move. My suspense is killing me, but I know if I peer out of the tarp I will give away my hiding spot.

“Where are you, you little brat” she mutters from nearby. I can feel my heartbeat in my fingertips.

I hear a shuffling noise and the recognizable sounding click from a car door unlocking. She must be getting in her car to come find me!

The sound of her retching and painful groans fills the night sky. She may be strong enough to chase me, but not for long. I need to wait her out.

She slams her door and starts the car. Seconds later I hear the car driving. Out of the parking lot and onto the main street I presume, I’m too terrified of being spotted to check.

Allowing my body to relax a bit, I get comfortable under the tarp. It’s warm enough where I am, I will wait for now. I’ll give it an hour and then go look for help.

The sound of passing sirens wakes me from my sleep. Surprised that I even fell asleep, I check my watch for the time. It’s well past midnight. Slowly I crawl out from under the tarp. Peering out over the truck bed I look out at where her car was parked. She’s gone. No one is around; the night is silent and peaceful.

I climb out of the truck, stretch my legs, and survey my surroundings. Should I knock on the doors? Would anyone help me, or would I put myself in more danger? Checking over my shoulder for any sign of Mrs. Whitmore, I walk back to the office door. It’s still closed.