The Detour by S. A. Bodeen Page B

glass.
    None of my suspicions boded well for me.
    A woman who ran her own farm would probably be self-sufficient, which meant there weren’t a lot of visitors. And visitors, particularly unexpected ones, were probably my only hope.
    I couldn’t keep myself from peering out the window again.
    Why had she stopped it there? Was it to show me what she had done? That my car belonged to her, that she could chop it up into little pieces and hide it? Keep anyone from finding it? Or me?
    I tried to raise myself higher so I could see farther out.
    A face filled the window.
    I screamed and lost my grip on the frame. I fell back on the bed and landed faceup, practically spread eagle. The pain in my shoulder swarmed my brain as I stared up at the window and blinked back the tears still clouding my eyes.
    A man, no, a boy. My age, maybe a little older. With large dark eyes that leered in at me. The pain subsided slightly. Only then did I remember that I was nude from the waist down.
    I gasped and desperately felt around for the blanket. Finally, my fingers found it. I yanked it over my lower half, covering my nakedness. My eyes snapped back up to the window.
    He was still there, his face nearly filling the rectangle.
    Had he seen me?
    No, it was too dark, too dark. He didn’t see me. He didn’t see me. He didn’t—
    A slow smile spread across his face. There was a gap between his two front teeth. Then he leaned forward and licked the window, his large pink tongue pressed flat and wide on the dirty glass.
    Pulling the blanket with me, I rolled off the bed and ran into the bathroom, fresh tears bursting at the pain the sudden movement caused in my shoulder. With a trembling hand, I switched off the light.
    I trembled, my breaths loud in the small, quiet space.
    I leaned out into the dark room. His silhouette was still there, his features invisible. In the darkened basement, I had to also be invisible to him.
    Small comfort.
    I stepped back into the bathroom.
    Who was he? He had to have known I was down there. Otherwise, why bother to look in?
    My heart still racing, I leaned back out.
    The window was empty.
    The breath I was holding slowly escaped.
    Back in the bathroom, I shut the door and slid my back down it until I was sitting. I pulled the blanket up over me. Now I didn’t even have the luxury of a comfortable bed. No way was I going back out there where he could see me. Watch me.
    So I leaned my head back against the door, shut my eyes, and prayed for daylight. Everything would be better in the morning. Because there was certainly no way that things could get worse.

 
    {11}
    FINALLY, AT SOME point, I drifted off. I didn’t dream. When I woke, my body was stiff from sitting on the floor all night. I slowly got to my feet and ran the cold water, ducking my mouth under the spigot to take a long, long drink.
    I ran a hand down my clothes on the towel rack. The underwear was mostly dry, but the leggings were drenched. Still, I didn’t like being half-naked. I painstakingly put them on and shivered at the chill, wishing I could wear my sweater instead of using it for a sling.
    The second I got rescued, I would gladly torch the whole freaking ensemble.
    Upstairs, a door slammed. Then, voices.
    I opened the bathroom door and peered out. All was as I’d left it.
    I climbed onto the bed. Out the window, the tractor was still there, as was the diced ruin that used to be my red Audi. But there was something new.
    Something blue was in front of the tractor. With one foot, I kicked the pillow over and stepped on top of it, giving myself another half an inch of height, hoping to increase my vantage point.
    The back of a navy car. I could make out the tires, the wide yellow stripes that began above them and—
    â€œOh my God.” The only cars like that were …
    State Patrol. The State Patrol was here!
    Footsteps pounded, descending.
    As quickly as I could, I dropped to my knees on the bed,