She wonders if it’s the same with Josh, if it’s merely the presence of night that’s making her suspicious of everything he does and says and implies. Maybe all of this would feel different and less threatening in the light of day.
Charlie doesn’t think so.
Josh’s actions would be shady no matter the time.
He doesn’t acknowledge it when Charlie makes another check of the speedometer and sees they haven’t slowed. He hasn’t shown any interest in her at all since the state trooper appeared behind them. Yet he’s watching her all the same. Charlie can feel it. A prickle of heat coming from the driver’s side as he navigates another curve. As they speed through the bend, the pine air freshener swings from the rearview mirror like a corpse on the gallows.
Charlie tightens her grip on the door handle, partly to steady herself as the Grand Am careens through another hairpin curve and partly in case she decides to risk it and jump anyway, even though that would be tantamount to suicide. The mountainside is so close to the car—a presence as unnerving as Josh and likely more dangerous. Chunks of stone litter the road’s narrow shoulder. The remains of boulders that have fallen from the hillside and crashed to earth.
That’s what her skull would look like if she jumped.
Broken bits of bone strewn among the rocks.
Within seconds, they’ve reached the bridge that spans the Delaware River, and leaping onto the side of the road isn’t even an option. There’s no side of the road to jump to. Just a thin strip of gravel-studded blacktop and concrete bridge railing. Beyond that, dozens of feet below, is dark water.
Jumping now would be suicide.
But there’s light ahead. A beacon Charlie had completely forgotten about until this moment.
A toll plaza.
Six lanes of booths blocking the entire westbound highway just on the other side of the bridge.
Josh will have no choice but to slow down.
And when he does, Charlie will make her move.
As the Grand Am continues across the bridge and the toll plaza lights get brighter, Charlie runs through the motions in her head. An action movie of her making.
Wait for Josh to slow the car.
Fling the door open before he brings it to a complete stop.
Then run.
Out of the car.
Into the next toll lane.
Then the next and the next and the next.
She’ll run screaming and not cease until another car stops for her or a tollbooth operator grabs her or she reaches some place that’s safe. There are other roads nearby. Ones with houses and businesses and onlookers who’ll hopefully come to her rescue.
The toll plaza is closer now, their lane crossed by one of those flimsy wooden gates that serve as symbols more than anything else. A car could smash right through it, something Charlie fears Josh might try to do. But then he taps the brakes and the speedometer plummets from sixty-five to forty-five to twenty-five.
Charlie squeezes the door handle.
Waiting.
Waiting.
Waiting as the car slows to fifteen, ten, five.
Now, a voice in Charlie’s head shouts. It might be her mother’s voice. It might be Maddy’s. Most likely it’s a combination of the two, their message loud and clear. Run now.
Charlie’s body tightens. Getting ready. Preparing for the sprint.
Run! Maddy and her mother keep screaming in her skull. Now!
Another voice joins them.
Josh.
Speaking calmly from the driver’s seat.
“Charlie?”
INT. GRAND AM—NIGHT
Charlie hears music.
The opening chords of a song she thought they already started listening to.
Nirvana.
“Come as You Are.”
“That must have been one hell of a movie,” Josh says.
Shock stills Charlie’s hand. She finds herself turning to face Josh, even though she knows she should be doing the opposite.
Opening the door.
Running to safety.
But what Josh just said holds her in place, forcing her to ask, “What do you mean?”
“A movie in your mind,” Josh says. “You just had one. I could tell.”
He brings the Grand Am to a full stop at the tollbooth. He then reaches across the console, his arm invading Charlie’s side of the car, and for a split second she thinks he’s about to reveal his true nature.
One she started to suspect minutes and miles ago.
She flinches, waiting.
But all Josh does is retrieve his wallet from the dashboard. If he notices Charlie’s reaction—and how could he have missed it?—he doesn’t show it. He simply plucks a five-dollar bill from the wallet, rolls down the window, and nods to the toll collector, a stout woman stifling a yawn.
“You look as tired as I feel,” Josh says, oozing charm as he hands her the five and palms the change. “Hope you got some strong coffee on you.”
“I do,” the toll collector says. “I’m gonna need it.”
Josh stuffs the cash back into his wallet, arranging it. He then shoves the wallet into his back left pocket. Charlie watches him do it, her body buzzing with uncertainty. What was Josh talking about? There was no movie in her mind.
Right?
Charlie’s fingers flex against the door handle, urging the rest of her to just pull it, just get out, just get away. She can’t bring herself to do it. She needs to know what Josh meant.
“Shift just starting?” he asks the toll collector.
“Yeah. Long night ahead.”
“Hope it goes quick for you.”
As Josh rolls up the window, Charlie’s hit with a desperate need to yell to the toll collector for help. Her mouth drops open, but she doesn’t know what to say. Josh just said she experienced a movie in her mind, and she has no idea why or what it could mean. And now it’s too late, because the window is shut and the car’s in motion again. The Grand Am passes the gate and leaves the toll plaza, its lights receding in the rearview mirror as the car picks up speed.
Fifteen miles per hour. Twenty-five. Thirty-five.
It’s not until they hit fifty-five that curiosity gets the best of Charlie. She clears her throat, trying to rid the fear that coats her tongue like drying paint, and says, “What were you talking about back there?”
“You went to the movies,” Josh says. “Your eyes were open, but you were totally zoned out.”