Running Out of Time by Margaret Peterson Haddix Page B

her?
    Then she heard another vehicle pull up behind the bread truck. Peeking through the grasses, Jessie saw a red car.
    "Can I help? What happened?" a man's voice said.
    "Door broke," the bread man said.
    Jessie heard a car door slam. The second man seemed to be looking around. What if he was looking for her?
    She risked another glance—she should know if she'd have to run—but both men were staring at the back of the truck.
    "Want help picking up the bread?" the second man said.
    "Nah. Forget it," the bread man said in disgust. "It's no good now."
    Then both men got into their vehicles and drove away.
    Jessie waited in the ditch for a while, in case one of them figured out what happened and came back to look for her. But if they did—shouldn't she be as far away as possible?
    Staying as low in the ditch as she could, she crept forward.
    Jessie wasn't sure how long she half crawled, half slithered through the ditch. The knees of her pants got wet and muddy. Her muscles began to ache from the unusual position, and she decided she was being silly. Anyone looking for her would have reached this spot already. Those cars went so fast she wasn't going to beat them by crawling. Besides, she needed to know if she was crawling in the right direction.
    Jessie stood up.
    In front of her, two wide roads spread from horizon to horizon. It was the widest clearing Jessie had ever seen in her life. The widest one she remembered, at least. Even beyond the roads there were no woods, only a few trees scattered in pastures or beside houses. Jessie felt her throat catch at the unfamiliar sight. What had happened to all the trees? Sure, settlers were clearing space for farms and villages, but Mr. Smythe had said a squirrel could cross Indiana jumping from tree to tree without once touching the ground, if he wanted to. Were the woods around Clifton the only ones left now?
    A car whizzed by, and Jessie remembered she didn't have time to mourn the woods. She needed to find out if she was on the right road, going the tight way. An enormous truck thundered by with a force that flattened the grasses by the road and whipped Jessie's hair into her face. Even if walking was slower, Jessie was glad to be out of the bread truck.
    After a few moments of watching, Jessie noticed the cars traveled in different directions on the different roads. On the road by Jessie, the cars went—Jessie glanced at the sun. It was too high overhead to be sure of direction. How could she find out?
    Then she saw a sign several feet ahead. She ran toward it. The sign came into focus: 37. That was one of the numbers Ma had said might be the right road. Above the number, the sign said north. Jessie grinned. She was going toward Indianapolis.
    Jessie touched the sign for good luck, amazed once again by the smoothness of the outside world's metal. She'd lost time escaping from Clifton and then the bread truck, but she was going in the right direction and she was bound to find one of those phone things soon. No one seemed to be looking for her. Surely the most frightening part of her journey was over.
    Jessie slung her pack over her shoulder and began walking north. She started out in the ditch, but the ground was uneven and the grasses tore at her legs. Carelessly, forgetting the caution she'd pretended to borrow from Hannah, Jessie moved up the slope to a place where the walking was easier—and she was in plain sight of every car that passed.

THIRTEEN
    Ma had said it would probably be a couple miles before Jessie found a phone. As she walked, Jessie looked around anxiously. What if she passed all the phones because she didn't know what they looked like? But there was little on either side of the big road but grass and fields and an occasional tree. Jessie thought about asking someone, but the only people she saw were those zooming by in the fast cars. She wouldn't want to try to stop them.
    Well, Jessie told herself with forced cheer, if they didn't stop, at least that meant