Chevy Stevens - Never Knowing

John laughed. “I got a big yearling this spring and had most of it made into sausages and hamburger.” He walked toward the camper. “Meat melts in your mouth — doesn’t taste gamey at all.” As Ally made a face, I shook my head and brought my finger to my lips.

“Sounds delicious,” I said to John’s back.

John reached for a blue cooler under the camper. While he was busy I looked around, but there was nothing I could grab. I eyed a couple of blocks of wood and wondered if I could knock him out with one, but they were big and I wouldn’t be able to lift one quickly, which meant I’d lose the element of surprise. Maybe later when he was sleeping? The thought of spending the night with him sent a new wave of terror through my body.

John set a package of sausages on the table and a carton of eggs, then stepped back into the trailer. My blood surged with adrenaline as he banged around, and my muscles tensed — every cell in my body saying, Run! But I stopped myself. Even though I hadn’t seen his guns yet, I knew he had them. And carrying a six-year-old, I needed a big head start — Ally wasn’t fast enough running on her own. Biding my time and trying to talk my way out of this was still my best chance of escape.

John emerged from the trailer with a handful of condiments, set them on the table, then went back in and came out with some plastic glasses and plates.

“Aren’t you going to try your chair, Ally?” He was setting the table.

She turned and glared at him. “No.”

He frowned and set the last plate down, then rested his big hands on the table. Anxiety hummed in my chest and I held Ally tighter.

John said, “I thought you said you liked it.”

Ally’s mouth opened, and I quickly said, “She does — she’s just scared of wrecking it. But you won’t be mad at her if she does, right, John?”

John laughed. “For breaking a chair? Of course not!”

Ally stared at me. I smiled and said, “See, it’s okay. You can sit in it.” With my chin tilted down so her head blocked my lips from John’s view, I mouthed, Go, now.

She eased off my lap and with one eye on John pulled the chair close to me and clutched my hand. I tried to give her a reassuring smile, but she was watching John. I noticed tear tracks on her face and felt sick. She must be so confused. Here was a man who hurt her, and now I was telling her to do what he said.

John had everything out on the tables — salt, pepper, butter, syrup, bread. He moved the plates around a couple of times, lining up everything just right, then looked at me.

“I got the plates yesterday, but I didn’t know what color…”

“The green’s pretty. Thanks.”

“Yeah?” His face lit up.

I nodded and prayed he’d be stupid enough to give me a knife, but he didn’t lay any cutlery on the table. Instead he set a metal rack in the middle of the fire, then got a cast-iron frying pan from the camper and put it on the rack. “I can’t wait to show you the ranch I bought for us to live on,” he said as he arranged sausage links in the pan.

Ally said, “I don’t want to live at a ranch.”

I shot her a warning look. John used a plastic spatula to move the sausages around, then set a smaller frying pan down beside it and cracked some eggs into it.

“Hope scrambled is okay?” The awkward smile again. He looked at Ally. “I have chickens at the ranch, so we’ll have fresh eggs every day. I’ll show you how to collect them. Place came with a couple of cows, so we can have milk, and I’ll teach you how to make cheese.” Ally said, “What about horses?” I held my breath.

John said, “We can get some horses. Sure.” He nodded. “You can even have one of your own. Maybe a pony.”

I let out my breath and said, “That’s really nice of you. Isn’t that nice, Ally?”

Ally said, “Can I name it?” Come on, Ally, don’t piss him off.

John said, “Sure, whatever you want.” The sausage was now sizzling and he moved a few links around.

Ally said, “Can I bring my dog?”

John shook his head. “We can’t go back and get him.” My body stiffened. Here we go. Ally’s face flushed.

“I don’t want to go to your stupid ranch.”

My pulse sped up. John pointed the spatula at Ally.

“Now, listen here, young lady—”

Ally stood up. “ I don’t want to go .”

John’s face flushed as he leaned forward in his seat. His hand rose.

I stood up and kicked the underside of the metal rack as hard as I could. It flipped up into the air, sending the large frying pan flying toward John, hitting him square in the forehead with a loud thunk and splattering hot grease across his face. He screamed and clutched his face and started rolling on the ground. I lifted Ally into my arms and ran like hell.

I’m not ready to talk about what happened, but I have to. I need to find some way to deal with this or the memories are going to eat me alive. Every time I close my eyes they all come rushing back in, drowning me in panicky thoughts. I wake up in the middle of the night, my heart pounding, my body slick with sweat, my mind racing. And one thought repeating over and over: If you stop running you will die.

Terror propelled me into the forest and toward the sound of a river. A second later I realized I should’ve headed to the road where there was a chance for help, but it was too late now. As I raced through the woods, trees and branches tore at my arms. John yelled my name back at the camp. Ally screamed.

“Ally, stop — you have to be quiet!” I pumped my legs hard, leaped over logs. My arms ached from Ally’s weight. John yelled my name again. I ran faster.

Go, go, go!

I raced along the bank above the river, hoping the roar of the water would muffle any sounds. My foot caught on an exposed root and I slid all the way down to the river’s edge. The cell fell out of my pocket into the water and I narrowly missed landing on Ally. She screamed and I covered her mouth with my hand. “Shhhh!” Her face was white and panic-stricken. I knelt down.

“Climb on my back and wrap your legs around my waist.”

Once she was up and had a good grip around my neck, I took off again. I was following the edge of the river, forcing my way through dense foliage, crawling over downed trees, slipping on moss-covered rocks, and ducking branches when I heard John yelling through the woods.

“Sara! Come back!”

My body flooded with fresh adrenaline and I ran as fast as I could, slipping and sliding on the rocks. I lost my balance as Ally shifted her weight, and fell hard on my left knee. I flung out my elbow to keep her from falling and scraped the palm of my hand bloody on a rock.

Get up! Run!

The sound of rushing water grew louder as we neared the top of some falls. Ahead of me the shore ended in a wall of dense brush and logs cast off from the winter’s floods. I was trapped. My eyes searched the bank frantically. How was I going to get around this?

I glanced at the opposite side of the river, but the water was moving too fast. I looked up the bank to my left and spotted a narrow opening under the lower branches of a fir tree. I clambered up, Ally’s weight working against every step. Finally I squirmed through, then followed a trail a few yards until it doubled back and came out above the edge of the falls. It looked like animals had forged a path down the side of the falls, but it was steep and rough.

As I gazed down, a wave of vertigo washed over me. I grabbed on to a branch and closed my eyes. I couldn’t get down there carrying Ally. What was I going to do? There was no way I was going to be able to outrun John. I heard Julia’s voice in my head. I hid in the woods for hours.…