His thin lips are turned up at the corners in a hint of a smile.
“Get dressed,” he says. “Then you can have something to eat.”
He holds out a dress to me. Not the one I was wearing before—this one is light cotton, loose and soft. It’s pure white. I shudder as I pull it over my head. I know why he chose this—it will be like a white flag in the woods. Giving away my position wherever I go.
Du Pont takes a loaf of French bread out of his duffle bag. He tears it in two, holding out half to me.
“Eat,” he says.
40
Dante
At 4:40 am, my phone buzzes with a text message from Simone. It’s not really from Simone, of course.
It’s a pin, sending me a location.
A spot in the Wisconsin woods, two hours and twenty-eight minutes from where I’m currently located.
Raylan and I start speeding in that direction immediately.
I have to go ten over the limit, or faster. Otherwise we won’t make it there by 7:00 am.
“Watch out for cops,” I say to Raylan, through gritted teeth. I don’t have a second to spare for getting pulled over.
“How do you want to do this?” Raylan asks me.
“We have to triangulate. Try to figure out his location. Then close in on him from two sides.”
“You don’t know what he’s got set up,” Raylan says. “He could have traps. Mines. Other people.”
“I don’t think there’s anyone else,” I shake my head. “You said he didn’t have friends in the army. I doubt he has any now. The hotel room above the rally, and the shooting at the restaurant . . . that was one person. Same with his little shack outside his aunt’s house.”
“One person on their own ground still has the advantage,” Raylan says.
I know he’s right.
“If you see Simone, you get her out of there,” I tell Raylan. “Don’t wait for me.”
“Yeah, likewise,” Raylan says. “Though, I really don’t want to get shot by Du Pont. He was such a little creep. It would be embarrassing, you know?”
I snort and shake my head. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Now, if it was a bear or a wolf that got me . . .” Raylan says, looking around at the woods on either side of the road. “That would be cool, at least.”
“There’s no wolves in Wisconsin.”
“Oh there damn well is, my friend. Big gray wolves. Not as big as the ones in Alaska, but still twice the size of a husky.”
We crossed over the border into the other state about a half-hour ago. I know it’s probably mostly in my head, but the woods look thicker and darker here, more menacing. I don’t know this area. I don’t know what Du Pont has planned.
All I know is that he’s determined to use Simone to hurt me.
He couldn’t have picked a better target.
When I was in the army, I was never afraid. I was too unhappy for that. I didn’t want to die, but I also didn’t care that much if I did.
Now, for the first time, I have a vision of a possible future. Me, Simone, and Henry. Living in Chicago or living in Europe, I don’t give a fuck which. All I care about is that the three of us could be together.
Nothing is more important to me than the idea of us together in the same room, as a family. I haven’t experienced that, not for a moment. I won’t let Du Pont take that away from me.
I have to see Simone. I have to tell her I forgive her. And most of all, I have to save her.
If I have to choose . . . if only one of us makes it out of this . . . it’s going to be her.
Raylan and I are speeding closer to the pin. The closer we get, the less we talk. We’ve already run over our potential strategies. We won’t know exactly what to do until we get there, until we see what the fuck Du Pont is up to.
For now, all we can do is mentally prepare ourselves.
It’s 6:22. The edges of the sky are beginning to turn deep purple instead of black. It’ll be sunrise, soon.
As we drive on, the sky lightens a little more.
Thank god it stopped raining. The ground is still wet and muddy, though. The pavement is dark with silvery patches of standing water.
At last we come to the place where the map tells us to turn right. We’re leaving the empty two-lane highway,