hard left through a front yard. Cars tangled in the trees behind her, slowing down the assault. Her mind raced. She had to get to the highway. She turned on the radio, desperately searching for a traffic report.
“…a great snowstorm through the tristate area…”
“…Bad Cat 3D now on video is the purrrfect last-minute Christmas present…”
“…blue moon I saw you standing alone…”
“…what is being called the refugee war in the Middle East…”
“…local traffic every fifteen minutes on the hour…”
She stopped the dial and turned up the volume.
“Traffic through the Fort Pitt Tunnel is jammed. Excellent work. We can’t let them escape. They are trying to get to 79. So, look for them around the high school.”
Christopher’s mother quickly did a 180 and turned away from the high school. There had to be one path open. She had to find it.
“They did a U-turn,” the radio voice said. “They are turning away from the high school.”
Christopher’s mother looked through the windshield and saw the cars back on her tail. They were hurtling toward the truck. She was never going to be able to outrun them.
“Turn off your headlights, Mom,” Christopher said weakly.
“What?” she said.
“Don’t worry. I’ll tell you where to go.”
Without a moment’s hesitation, Christopher’s mother turned off the headlights. The DJ’s voice crackled through the radio.
“We lost them. They might be able to hear us. Go to the alternate station.”
The radio went dead. Christopher closed his eyes and began to describe what he saw. Christopher’s mother could almost see it. A giant maze of streets filled with cars, searching for them like the ghosts in Pac-Man. Jerry wiping the blood from his road rash. Hitching a ride from the caravan. Hell-bent on finding her. And killing her in front of the sheriff.
“Turn left,” Christopher said, coughing blood into his hand.
Christopher’s mother made a left. Then, a sharp right. Whatever he said, she did blindly. She looked in the rearview mirror. They were starting to lose the hospital mob. It was working. They were going to make it. She turned back to the front windshield. Her eyes adjusted to the blue moonlight. She floored the gas pedal as deer began to crawl into front yards and driveways. Behind bushes and trees. Waiting for the order to strike.
A deer ran in front of the car.
She slammed on the brakes, and the truck skidded in the snow. Christopher’s mother turned into the skid. She straightened out and raced toward Route 19. She saw the on-ramp right in front of her. There was still a chance.
“Go straight, Mom. Faster,” Christopher said.
The deer broke through the yards ahead of them. Christopher’s mother floored the truck, trying to make it to the on-ramp before the deer overtook it. The speed climbed. The wind howled. The entire street began to fill with cars all converging on that one intersection.
Christopher’s mother pushed on the pedal so hard, she thought her foot would break through the floor. They barreled toward the on-ramp, but the cars beat them to it. Colliding in an explosion of glass, metal, and flesh.
Their escape route was blocked.
“Where do we go now, Christopher?!” she asked.
Christopher was silent.
“We need to get to the highway. Where do we go?!”
“The highway is gone,” he said.
The news hit all of them. Without the highway, the town may as well be an island. They were stuck in Mill Grove. Kate Reese’s mind raced. There had to be a way out on surface streets. They could get to a neighboring town. Things would be better in Peters Township or Bethel Park or Canonsburg.
i will never let hIm leave, kate.
She shook off the voice and kept driving. The snow fell, making the streets slick like glass. Everywhere she went was a new dead end. An abandoned car. A fallen tree. Roads turned into parking lots. Everywhere she drove, the car simply returned to the streets she knew all too well.
They were driving back to their neighborhood.
They were going to the Mission Street Woods.
i will kIll him, kate.
“Where do we go, Christopher?!”
“There is nowhere to go, Mom,” he said weakly.
“Yes, there is!”
Christopher touched her leg with his hand, burning with what felt like a 108-degree fever.
“He will never let me leave, Mom,” Christopher said.
The deer galloped like horses with an invisible rider. Dozens of them broke through the lawns. There were too many of them. Christopher’s mother refused to accept the inevitable.
The deer were going to overtake the car.
i’m going to kill your son now, katE.
Christopher’s mother raced to the crossroads. A stampede of