Blood Sisters (Ch. 4) Alice

Day Two

The sour smelling air grows hotter every second.

Rory looks to me, her head lolling with the sway of the truck. "How long have we been on the road?"

I open my mouth to respond, but Harold beats me to it. "Eleven hours and thirty-six minutes."

I glower at him, silently seething. He's so calm, so accepting in his plan to destroy the one friend I was graced to have. Plotting a murder, carefully, cunningly, all while knowing that I have nothing I can do to stop him without giving ourselves away.

"I'm starving." I announce, breaking the silence, "We should stop at a gas station and get a late breakfast."

I see Harold's form stiffen, and his breath comes out sharply. "Do all members of the party feel the same?"

Rory sits up, attempting to wipe away the darkening bags under her eyes. "I do. My stomach is gnawing away at my bones, it's so empty."

I focus on my brother's face in the mirror and curse myself for the smirk growing on his lips.

"All the way to the bone, huh? You'll be pleased to hear we will be stopping soon. We're practically running on empty."

My eyes drop and I steer my head to catch of glimpse of the scenery speeding by. We've left our simple town, and instead, a sandier, rockier tread had replaced it. Pine trees of tall stature blur into a line of spiky greenery, almost like the walls closing in on us. I would risk appearing insane and pulling both Rory and I from the truck, if that would solve anything. But I'd have to factor in the injuries we'd take - especially with essentially throwing an unwilling hostage out of a moving vehicle.

"How long do you think?"

My brother narrows his eyes, but keeps a feather-light tone. "Always impatient, Alice. We're stopping by the cliff."

I feel the air rush out of my lungs. So that's his plan. At least now that I've have an idea of the location and how he'll proceed, I can decide my next move.

I look at Rory. She's scrawny, more so than me, and I doubt the two of us together can overtake Harold. He has my pistol and a weapon of his own- both in the front seat. He'd never buy me feigning illness and has repeatedly shut down Rory and I's need to use a restroom by handing us an empty bottle. I doubt he'd listen to anything my friend would say. Unless... 

The wheels in my brain start to chug and take on speed. I could jump off the edge of the cliff. It sounds crazy, but I've survived worse situations. Of course, I'd find something- anything- to hold onto. It's not hard to predict that would stop Harold's plan for one minute. One minute is all I need. Rory could run and have enough of a head start to get away. It's risky; I could slip or miss, plunging to my certain death. Is it worth it? I need to know that I can do this, as a positive attitude, as cheesy as it may sound, has always affected the outcome of my plans. I need to believe that I will be able to do this. And if I can't...? I cringe as the words finally force themselves into my mind. Surely, I don't want to live this kind of life forever. If the life of a murder is lost, it should be to protect the innocent. A final good deed to make up for the horror inflicted on others. At least, that's what I tell myself to keep the fear away.

The truck's engine growls one last time and the tires crunch over the gravelly surface. Eyes glazed and heart thudding with a familiar intensity, I see that the landscape has drastically changed in a matter of minutes. The road has cracked beyond use and small chunks fly from under the tire's tread. This then levels out to unpolluted white sand, a sign of an unpopulated area. The mighty pines have become scarce, roots reaching out to the sands and curling under at the lack of nutrients. Even I gasp at the big rocks leaning precariously over the edge to create the jagged frame of the picturesque beyond. That's a good sign. The arching and grips jutting out over their surface alludes to the possibility of a precipice sturdy enough to hold a person my size on the hidden underside. I feel the truck sharply stop, inertia pulling us forward suddenly. My brother pokes his head in the back, a gleam in his eye.

"I have a few good-sized containers of gas in the back. Alice will pour and I'll pass our little hitch-hiker something to eat."

I hold the malice creeping into my thoughts. "You know I'd never be able carry those things. Could you get them?"

He knows my lie and grins. " 'Course you can. Just yesterday, you took me my tool box to fix up the truck. Remember?"

Rory looks up, confused. "I don't think she did. She was with me all day."

He grits his teeth. "She was, wasn't she? I guess I'm confused." He eyes me. "You stay here, I'll fill up the tank and grab some snacks."

I nod. "Sure thing. We don't want to trip and fall over the side." It's probably not the smartest thing to say, but I crave that disgusted look he gives me, his face flushed with rage.

"Yes, we wouldn't want that, would we?"

He swings open he rusted door and I hear his boots collide against the ground. His hunched figure moves slowly to the back, an orange eye positioned on me the whole time- a good sign.

I casually turn to Rory, my eyes wide with meaning.

"You good?"

Her words are careful, she must know something isn't right.

"Not exactly, we need to go." I glance over to Harold, pleased to see his eyes are busy for a second.

"Go?"

"Don't interrupt. I need you to do something else for me. Can you do that?"

She narrows her eyes but something must change her mind as she relaxes them. "What exactly?"

"I'm going to run, run the opposite way you're going to run. As soon as my feet his the sand, run as fast as you can towards the trees. Don't stop, I'll catch up."

Her fingers twitch up to her hair, tugging on it unconsciously.

"What are you trying to do, Alice?"

"Please, we don't have much time. Will you? I need you to do this."

"You promise you'll follow?"

"Yeah, I promise." Another empty promise, another regret I simply can't avoid.

"You're a strange girl Alice Lee Mason, but I can't say I don't enjoy that fact."

I let out a tense breath. "Ah... yes. You ready?"

She gives e a wonky grin, letting excitement override her confusion. I wince at the amount a trust she's giving me. "Ready as I'll ever be. After you."

I grab the cold handle and tug. A sharp squeak from the old thing causes my heart to miss a beat. Harold's eyes flash to me, his hand already outstretched.

"Hey! Alice you-"

My feet hit the ground and I'm off. I hear Harold's animalistic roar as he chases after me. If I'm fast enough, he might ignore the sound of Rory sprinting in the opposite direction. The rocks are getting closer, each stride brings their swaying picture into focus. Am I really going to do this? Am I really that brave?

"Stop!" My brother's voice is too high, too fearful. He really thinks I'm going to jump. I don't want to miss, does he really think that I do?

"Alice... no!"

This voice shakes me. It's not Harold, but Rory. She must've stopped, only to watch her friend reach the base of the enormous stones. My toes touch the edge the rock and I spin for one last look. But they're too slick and I'm moving too fast. I feel myself stumble as the momentum pulls me forward, my feet not taking the leap where I meant. My hand automatically grasp for the underside like I planned. But they're not there. And they never will be.

I watch the horror on her face grow as I plunge downward. Seconds slow to minutes but I can't seem to make my limbs move faster in this jelly-like air. My last thought races across my mind, a blurry string of words that don't make sense.

Why didn't she run?