A WILD ESCAPE
Illustration by Lawrence Tate
There was a frozen moment of shock and astonishment as people stared. The heavy door was open about a foot, and Abby was already sliding out into the raging wind. She ran to Tuck’s side door, and immediately began banging with her fist. Looking back she saw the menacing crowd spilling outside, looking her way. Hail with a mix of rain blew in her face. Suddenly Tuck opened his door and pulled her inside.
“Lock it!” she yelled. “Lock it!”
He turned the brass knob and the bolt slid into place. He looked her in the eye. “Listen,” came his voice, low in her ear. “I have word that Becky Scutter is winning the election. And Dr. Bear has warned me that Laura Palmer is calling for an audit of all finances and valuable possessions, including the treasures in our locked basement room. She has already demanded the key.”
Abby felt as if she’d been kicked in the stomach. She could hear banging on the door behind her.
“But don’t worry,” Tuck assured her. “I knew this was a possibility, so I removed your briefcase and that… other item, and hid them in my office. You should take them now anywhere you like. But for your sake, get them out of here. Come!”
He pulled her by the arm up the stairs and into his office. In one corner behind a few boxes of books he withdrew the mapstick and the briefcase, and handed them to Abby. She immediately took them and without a word ran down the stairs.
Abby waited for a few seconds at the door. The banging had stopped. She listened carefully, but could only hear Tuck’s steps behind her. She turned the knob and opened it. The ferocious storm had increased over the last few minutes. The crowd had retreated indoors, perhaps to find another way to Tuck’s office behind the sanctuary.
Only Sulay, Shannon, and Nico remained outside, hugging the wall to protect themselves from the storm. They waved to Abby, and Nico gave her a thumbs up.
‘Well, somebody’s out here to help me,’ she muttered to herself.
In the back of her mind Abby had been anticipating this moment for a few days, and had a plan already in mind. Running to the tool shed she grabbed her jack knife and cut a few pieces of twine. Then she tied the briefcase to the rack over the back wheel of her bike, and tied the mapstick horizontally under the seat in several places. It stood out half a foot beyond the front and back wheels, but interfered very little with her ability to ride. The real danger, she knew, would be the slippery surface, but she would have to risk that.
Her first idea was to go out the wrought iron door, but if a stalker was on duty there she would be alone and helpless. The front gate would put her immediately on Bridge Avenue, where the traffic was frozen. No one could follow her unless they too had a bike, or were a long distance sprinter.
So she rode toward the front gate, wishing she had goggles. It was almost impossible to see. Rain and hail blew in her face and began to soak her jacket, but she hardly felt it. Her adrenaline had given her all the courage and strength she needed. Her mind was crystal clear. Shannon, Nico , and Sulay were standing like soldiers, guarding the gate. Sulay raised her camera.
“Go!” yelled Nico. “Faster! Faster! Go! Go!”
Behind her voices were shouting, “There she is! Stop her!”
Abby had the jump on her pursuers, but was now worried about stalkers watching from the windows of the Middletown Standard. And so she dared to put on speed despite the icy surface, and raced down the sidewalk and into the street. The wheels slipped on the melting hail and snow. It was almost impossible to control the bike. She felt sure the brakes would send her into a skid.
Very few pedestrians were out braving the storm. No one seemed interested in Abby. The traffic was just creeping along every once in a while. It was like biking on ice, but to her surprise her balance improved, and she had the strange sensation that the bike was steering itself.
Suddenly she heard someone yell, “There she is! Look!”