Day Three
July 23, 1952
Wednesday Morning
River’s chest thumped with less of a panic as Spencer’s vehicle didn’t slam to a stop and the man didn’t jump out to carve his face off right then and there. He wasn’t going to die, not right at the minute anyway. Even if Spencer changed his mind right now this second and doubled back, there was enough distance that River could sprint into the terrain. Spencer wouldn’t be able to run him down in a thousand years. As the car sped farther away, however, to the point of becoming a blur, River suddenly realized why.
Spencer was going to kill January.
That would be his way to make River suffer.
He’d get to January first, put a bullet in her brain, and let River live with the guilt for a day or a week or a month. Then he’d pop out of the shadows one dark night and swing a knife into River’s face.
Damn it.
Damn it.
Damn it.
River should have never made a move. Firing the gun had been stupid, he not only knew that now but even knew it while he was doing it. He’d let his rage get the best of him and now January was the one who was going to pay.
Spencer’s vehicle disappeared over the horizon.
The silence was deafening.
No other cars were in sight, not a one.
River’s body broke into a sprint up the road, almost of its own volition.
How far was January?
Five miles?
Six?
River could run five-minute miles. Even at that though he was still close to a half hour away. Spencer would have more than enough time to slam the car to a stop, trot the two or three hundred yards to where January was, say “Bye-bye bitch. Thank your dumb-ass friend for this,” and stick the barrel in her mouth.
River kept running.
There was no other option.
Getting there in time would be impossible. The best he could hope for was that Spencer got car trouble, or got confused as to where January was.
Five minutes passed.
River kept the speed up but his strength was draining faster than he thought. He had one more mile left at this pace if he was lucky.
Spencer would be to January by now.
She was probably dying even as he thought about it.