HE WINDOW OPENED and the tied-together sheets snaked down the side of the house. Julie looped the other end around the footboard of the bed and tugged on it to make sure it was secure. She slipped through the window, clambered quietly down the improvised rope, touched the ground, and darted off into the darkness.

She didn’t know exactly where she was, but she had been following the truck’s route while pretending to be asleep. She figured she could get to the main road and then follow that to a store or gas station where she could make a call to a cab company to come and pick her up. She checked her stash of cash and her credit card. She was good to go.

The darkness didn’t frighten her. Sometimes the city during the day was far scarier. But she crept along silently, because as good as Will had seemed, she knew someone could still have followed them. She mapped out her plan in her head and decided that it was as good as she was going to come up with under the circumstances.

She knew her parents were dead. She wanted to lie down on the ground, curl up, and never stop crying. She would never see her mother again. She would never hear her father’s laugh. Then their killer had come after her. And then he’d been blown up in that bus.

But she couldn’t curl up and cry. She had to keep moving. The last thing her parents would have wanted was for her to die too.

She was going to survive. For them. And she was going to find out why someone had killed them. Even if the killer was now dead. She needed to know the truth.

The road was not much farther. She picked up her pace.

She had no time to react.

It just happened.

The voice said, “You know, I was going to make breakfast for you.”

She gasped, turned, and gazed at Robie, who was sitting on a tree stump staring at her. He got up. “Was it something I said?”

She glanced back at the house. She was far enough away that all she could make out was a sense of powered light through the tangle of trees and brush.

“I changed my mind,” she said. “I’m heading on.”

“Where?”

“That’s my business.”

“You sure about this?”

“Completely sure.”

“Okay. You need any money?”

“No.”

“Want another canister of pepper spray?”

“You have some?”

He pulled one from his pocket and tossed it to her.

Julie caught it.

Robie said, “That one is actually more potent than the one you have. It has a paralytic built in. It’ll lay down any assailant for at least thirty minutes.”

She put it in her backpack. “Thanks.”

He pointed to his left. “There’s a shortcut through there to the road. Just stick to the path. Get to the road, turn left. There’s a gas station half a mile up. They have a pay phone, maybe the last one in America.”

He turned to go back to the house.

“So that’s it? You just let me walk?”

He turned back. “Like you said, it’s not my business. It’s your decision. And, frankly, I’ve got my own problems. Good luck.”

He started off again.

Julie did not move.

“What were you going to make for breakfast?”

He stopped but didn’t look at her. “Eggs, bacon, grits, toast, and coffee. But I have tea too. They say coffee stunts a kid’s growth. But then like you said, you’re not a kid.”

“Scrambled eggs?”

“Any way you like. But I do an exceptional over-hard.”

“I can leave in the morning.”

“Yes, you can.”

“That’s my plan.”

“Okay.”

“Nothing personal,” she said.

“Nothing personal,” he replied.

They walked back to the house, Julie trailing three feet behind Robie.

“I was pretty quiet getting out of the house. How did you know?”

“I do this for a living.”

“Do what?”

“Survive.”

Me too, thought Julie.