River Girl - By Charles Williams Page 0,101

I tossed the keys to him and he opened the door.

He was taking too much time. I shoved him in the back and he snapped out of it. Some of the prisoners had waked up by this time and they began to yell, thinking it was a lynching. We came to her cell and she had been sitting on the side of the bunk. She looked up and saw me. “Jack!” she screamed, and while he was fumbling with the lock I saw her slide to the floor. I wanted to hit him again, but by that time he had it open.

“You won’t get away with this, Marshall,” he said. I pushed him and he slammed into the wall and lay on the floor, moaning a little.

I knelt down beside her, wanting to gather her up and kiss her until she came around, but feeling time running past us like a millrace. I turned her over very gently. She still had on the white suit she had bought, but it was wrinkled and soiled, and didn’t look cool any more. Her face was waxen white and the lashes were dark and very long, almost unreal against her cheek. I wondered if I had strength left to pick her up.

Somehow I got her up and went out and slammed the door shut. Turning the key in it, I hurried along the cell block and back out through the office. There was still no one in the street. As we went under the glaring light I looked down at her. Her head was tilted back, the face very still and white, with the long dark hair swinging free. I couldn’t help it. I bent my head and kissed her on the throat.

I started to slide her into the seat, and then suddenly thought of something. What was it Dinah had said about the bed she’d made in the back? That would be perfect. There would be a lot less chance of our being spotted with just me alone up here than with both of us. I put her down temporarily in the seat while I reached for the keys to unlock the trunk. Then I noticed I was still carrying the jailer’s key ring in my hand. I threw it out into the street and went around to the back, and unlocked the trunk and raised it. She went into it perfectly, curled up like a child with her head on the pillow. But suppose she wakes up there in the dark, I thought. I ran back to the front and looked in the glove compartment. There was a flashlight, as I had hoped, and I snapped it on and put it down beside her on the blankets. She’ll know where she is, I thought.

I didn’t want to leave her. But it’s only for a little while, I thought. As soon as we’re out of the worst of the danger area I’ll pull off onto a side road somewhere, by a little creek, and she can get out and I’ll shave myself. I put the shell down and went back and lifted the back seat up, pulled it out a little. Feeling back with my hand, I could see there was plenty of opening for air to get through, and with the shell closed the carbon monoxide from the exhaust couldn’t back up on her.

I jumped into the seat, and then discovered I had left the keys in the lock of the trunk. I was getting jittery with the hurry now. There still wasn’t anyone in the street and it was growing light. I ran back, snatched them out, and climbed in. It had been too easy, and I was scared.

Take it easy, I thought. Keep your head. The worst is over. They’ll discover it in a little while, but the jailer didn’t see the car and they’ll have no description of it. I hit the starter and had just got out from under the street light when the other car pulled into the street behind us. For an instant the headlights washed across us, glaring in the mirror, then they went out. He had stopped. Fighting the terror, I went on, picking up speed without gunning it. Just before I turned the corner I looked back. A man had gotten under the street light and was walking up the steps of the jail.

He didn’t pay any attention to the car, I told myself. Sweat was greasy on my face as I

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