CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

SUSAN AND I bolted through the forest. Strange thoughts penetrated the thick blanket of shock-induced numbness that had overtaken me. It occurred to me that I’d never run for my life beside my girlfriend. Any girlfriend. I guess I assumed I would outrun her, be the one stopping, slowing, looking back as the gunshots still popped behind us, now and then skidding off the undergrowth or hitting nearby trees. But it was her. Susan had to stop for me three times. Eventually the gunshots stopped, too. We emerged, panting, on the side of a dirt road. Beyond it, I could hear cars on asphalt. Wordlessly we headed there, crossing the flattened earth and entering the woods again. I was sucking in breath hard. Susan met my eyes and I shook my head, resigned.

“No more of those pies,” I said.

She managed a smile, took my hand, and led me on.