Page 37 of Trapped: Between Sky And Wind

I wrap the money in it, awkwardly knot it, and wrap the cloth around my neck like a shawl. I have to do without shoes because Liam’s flip-flops are size 9.5—I would only stumble and fall.

I slowly open the window, but it still creaks. I glance anxiously at Liam. When he continues to breathe steadily, I climb onto the window sill and crouch down.

On Interstate 5, the first commuters are heading downtown. The air is humid and smells of rain. For a moment, I remember jumping out the window of Bren’s RV on my first escape attempt. Then, he had a flash and chained himself outside while the storm raged overhead.

So dark…so deep underground…

Let him be okay! Don’t let him have a flash!

It might set him back years. I know without a doubt that I have to go to him! Suddenly, I have a bad feeling.

I glance down at the asphalt fearfully. It’s so high! Bren’s RV was only about five feet; whereas this here is truly dangerous. Should I wait for another opportunity?

But then I remember Bren’s dream, which I can see as clearly as if it were mine. Once we get out of Seattle, my brothers won’t be able to follow us. But what if afterward, Ethan never talks to me again?

Nonsense, Lou, he would never last! Someday, he’ll even talk to Jay again! Stay focused!

I get dizzy and cling to the window frame. Of course, there are no fire escapes or rain gutters to shimmy down, life is not a movie after all. Liam mumbles something in his sleep. I turn to him and see him roll onto his side.

I have to get going. The sky is already showing first signs of dawn and gray and black wispy clouds hang like rags over the city. It’ll be a new day soon and Ethan will barely sleep—if he’s asleep at all. Maybe he’ll even go to the parking lot later for some fresh air.

I have to do it now!

I take another deep breath, let go of the window frame, and jump.

Chapter

Eight

This is for Bren and me, I think while the night flutters around me like a black shawl. I don’t have time to be afraid. A hissing envelops me and then there’s a hard jolt and a sharp pain runs through my spine, branching out through the back of my head to the roots of my teeth.

Panting, I remain seated for a few breaths. I landed feetfirst but ended up on my butt. Gravel digs into my palms and the ankle I sprained in the Yukon last year throbs. I cautiously rotate my foot and the movement pulls but is manageable. Relief washes through me.

I get up carefully, but when I start walking, I can hardly put any weight on my right leg. The old pain in my ankle explodes with every step, stabbing my bone like a newly sharpened sword. My relief turns to shock.

Cursing softly, I hobble across the dimly lit parking lot while repeatedly glancing over my shoulder. So far, Liam hasn’t shown up at the window. Lucky for me because I’m way too slow.

I stop at the edge of the freeway and cling to the guardrail. Engine noise, energetic honking, and exhaust fumes fill the hazy morning. Dazed by the pain, I try to get an idea of the situation.

The interstate has eight lanes, four lanes stretching north to south on each side. Cars speed past.

Crossing the freeway would be madness! I must move on and hope for a bridge or underpass. With one hand on the guardrail, I begin to move when I hear an outcry.

“Louisa, stop! Wait!”

My stomach sinks. I look toward the parking lot and see Ethan striding straight for me. His face is ashen, his eyes dark. He’s actually still wearing his blue-and-white checked pajamas.

“Don’t run away again, please, Lou!” It almost sounds like a plea the way it comes out of his mouth. Liam’s words about Dad’s funeral come to my mind and I see him standing bravely by the open grave, holding my hand as I weep.

Suddenly, I feel sorry for him. Part of me wants to wait for him, but the other part chooses Bren. I climb over the guardrail as fast as I can.

“Louisa! Are you crazy? You’re going to get yourself killed!” he yells after me, sounding angry now.

Through the emerging daylight, I look at him. He’s only thirty feet away—and he doesn’t have a throbbing ankle that stings like it’s being poked with a knife every step he takes.

Behind me. a car honks and startles me, causing me to turn. A sports car roars by in one of the center lanes. A chrome monster truck thunders toward me in the right lane. Ethan is almost here!

Before the truck reaches me, I start running. A deep horn like a bass explodes and brakes squeak shrilly through the air. Ethan shouts something, but it’s drowned out by the roar of the engines. A small car with a trailer rattles past in front of me and I almost stumble into it. Hot, exhaust-filled headwinds twirl my hair. My heart is pounding. I’m in the middle of the lanes. Cars slow down.

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