Katrin stood at the base of the hill. She didn’t feel like climbing. The heat was making her dizzy and she’s already thrown up the handful of trail mix she’d eaten for breakfast.
Apparently, morning sickness didn’t waste any time making your life hell, once you got pregnant.
Still, she wanted to do something useful. Wanted to try to climb a hill and get a cell signal.
Who would we call? Pistol had asked last night.
While it was true they didn’t have many options in Rialto — no one they could fully trust with the story about her father — there was still Maddy. Maddy, whom Katrin had put off contacting even though she should have gone to her right away, back when this mess started. No, it wasn’t like Maddy could rush down here, pick Katrin up from the top of a hill in the desert, and whisk her away. But if Maddy could start driving south, and if she and Pistol started riding north, maybe they could meet somewhere partway between Ohio and Texas. They could book rooms and transport on Maddy’s card and pay her back later in cash, and Maddy would do whatever she could to help Katrin and Pistol get new lives, new identities.
And if Pistol tried to insist on staying in Rialto, on staying and trying to fight her father’s empire, she could put her foot down. Tell him she had their escape all planned out.
It was so fucking confusing. She kept telling herself she was going to be her own person, wasn’t going to docilely obey the instructions of the men in her life. And yet, was it right to give Pistol an ultimatum? What if she was wrong, and escaping with Maddy wasn’t the best solution? What if she got them killed with her insistence on escape rather than resistance? Trusting others rather than relying on themselves. What if all they did was drag Maddy into something horrible and dangerous from which none of them would ever escape.
She started to climb. Her skinny jeans were too tight to make this a fun endeavor, and her flats offered zero support as she stepped over rocks and through patches of sand and prickly scrub.
A few yards up, she pulled out her phone and checked. One bar. Her heart leapt hopefully, in spite of the knowledge that a phone call was unlikely to solve her problems.
What if she used her phone to call the police instead? She knew Pistol wasn’t okay with that. But was there any chance they’d understand? That they’d do their best to protect Pistol in spite of his involvement with her father, and in spite of his various questionable activities as part of the Blackened Souls? Would she be blamed for her role in all this? For going along with her dad’s plan, for not reporting it sooner? She’d always thought of the police as a source of aid and protection. Now she had no idea who she could trust.
She climbed around a small boulder, scrabbling a little, then rested for a moment, panting. One hand on her belly.
She hated feeling helpless. She hated feeling like she had no say in whether she would be protected and how. What did Pistol think he’d accomplish by going into town in search of “help?” What he meant was that he wanted to look for a means of perpetuating the same violent cycle. He wanted to find weapons. He wanted to confront her father, find his missing brothers, play the hero. It was frustrating as hell, and it was exactly that mentality that made her nervous to tell him about the baby.
Because he’ll never leave that life behind, will he? He’ll never stop putting himself in danger, never stop prioritizing adventure over domestic life. And I want adventure too, but I also want my child to grow up safe. I’d rather have my baby grow up with no father at all than a father who might not come home one night because he’s been killed in a gang fight.
She climbed some more, breathing hard. This was taking more out of her than she’d expected. She paused to throw up again on the rocks. The sun was beating down hard on her. She took out her phone, took a deep breath, and dialed Maddy.
The call was dropped immediately, and a No Service message appeared.
Shit.
She pocketed her phone and started to climb again. She was almost to the top of the hill.
She stepped onto a rocky ledge. Wobbled for a second, then started to take another step. Part of the ledge gave out from under her, and she let out a startled cry. She scrambled as pebbles showered down the side of the hill. She reached for any handhold she could find, but there was nothing. As she started to fall, a ray of sun caught her side of the hill, nearly blinding her, and she thought, for just a second, that she heard her mother’s voice, somewhere far away. Out of reach.