Cold Betrayal

Reluctantly, Enid accepted. “Thank you,” she said.

The pickup pulled off onto the dirt shoulder and came to a slow stop. The snow had let up, although a few flakes still skittered here and there. They had stopped at a junction of sorts, under a single streetlight and next to a flock of mailboxes. On either side of the paved highway dirt roads led off to the east and west and disappeared into the distance. Directly across the road was a lonely gas station.

The woman pointed toward the road that went off to the right. “Our daughter’s RV park is that way,” she said.

Nodding, Enid fumbled for the door handle.

“Are you sure we can’t call someone to come for you?” the woman asked as Enid climbed out.

“No,” she said, stepping onto a dirt shoulder that was partially covered by a thin coating of snow. “Someone will give me a ride.”

She looked back the way they had come. Far in the distance she spotted a pinprick of light, which meant that another vehicle was coming this way. As the wind bit through her jacket, she wrapped the blanket around her shoulders and was amazed at how well the tightly woven wool shielded her from the cold.

She stood for a moment longer, holding the door open. “Thank you for the ride,” she said, “and for the blanket, too.”

Moving to reclaim her part of the bench seat, the woman nodded. “You’re welcome,” she said. “Take care.”

When the pickup drove off, Enid stood in the cold and dark, staring longingly at the gas station across the road. It would be warm inside. She’d be able to use the bathroom. Maybe whoever ran the place would let her stay there long enough to find another ride. The problem was, people stopping there might well be going in the other direction, back the way she’d come.

Fishing the squashed sandwich out of her pocket, Enid unfolded the waxed paper, shoved that back into her pocket, and then wolfed down the sandwich while trying to make up her mind. This was the moment of decision, the time when she either had to move forward toward the unknown or turn back and face whatever punishment The Family meted out. Convinced now of her kinship to Bishop Lowell, she knew he would want to make an example of her. He’d want to be sure the other girls saw her suffer.

No, Enid decided at last, whatever future the Outside held couldn’t be worse than what awaited her back home at The Encampment. Polishing off the rest of the sandwich, she turned to look at the approaching vehicle whose headlights she had glimpsed when she first stepped out of the pickup. It was much closer now, speeding toward her. Wrapping the blanket around her shoulders, she faced north and stuck out her thumb. The vehicle turned out to be another pickup. It sped past without slowing, traveling so fast that she caught not the smallest glimpse of the occupants.

Resolutely, Enid turned back to the road, squinting through the darkness in hopes of seeing yet another southbound traveler. As a consequence, she didn’t notice that, after the pickup sped past her, it slowed a quarter mile or so away, stopped, and made a quick U-turn. With the wind whistling in her ears, she didn’t hear the returning vehicle as it approached from the opposite direction, although she did catch a glimmer from the headlights out of the corner of her eyes. When she turned to look, that’s all she could see—a pair of bright headlights that belonged to a vehicle that had pulled over and stopped on the shoulder on the far side of the highway. It sat at an odd angle so the high beams were pointed directly at her.

A moment later, the headlights went out. There was another brief flash of light as a car door opened and closed. Then she heard something else—first the crunch of boots on snow-glazed gravel and then a singsong voice saying, “Here, piggy, piggy, piggy. Don’t you think it’s time you came home?”

Terrified, Enid stood her ground. The approaching man’s voice seemed oddly familiar. Obviously he knew all about what awaited her back home. In the dim light from the overhead streetlight, she saw him striding forward, walking along the shoulder on the far side of the road. The glow of the streetlight was enough that she caught a flash of something on the man’s jacket. Was it a badge she was seeing? Suddenly he tripped on something, or perhaps his shoe slipped on a bit of icy gravel. He staggered for a moment before catching his balance.

“Dressed up like an Indian, are you, Enid?” he said, righting himself. “Come along now. Time to go home.”

She knew who he was now. He spoke with the authority of one of the Elders, issuing commands that he fully expected her to follow. Because that’s how things worked in The Family—men issued orders; women obeyed.

When the dim figure started toward her again, he was little more than a looming shadow. Focused completely on him, she failed to realize that what had made the difference was another set of bright headlights from yet another vehicle. This one, approaching from the south, overwhelmed the insubstantial glow of the streetlight.

Paralyzed with a combination of dread and indecision, Enid stood for several moments longer, watching and waiting. Her pursuer had crossed one lane of pavement and was within a matter of feet of reaching her when Enid finally sprang to action. Instead of obeying, intent on nothing other than making her escape, she wheeled away from him and ran, sprinting toward what she hoped would be the relative safety of the gas station. She never made it. She never saw or heard the vehicle approaching her from behind; never saw the blinking turn signal that indicated the driver was starting to slow in order to turn into the gas station. Unfortunately, he hadn’t slowed enough.

She heard the squeal of brakes. A sharp pain shot through her body as the front bumper caught her hip and tossed her skyward. For what seemed like forever, she flew through air. When she came back to earth, she landed hard enough to knock the wind out of her before momentum sent her tumbling over and over across the pavement. For a long time after she came to rest, there was nothing but darkness. Then, from very far away she heard a single voice calling out to her through her pain.

“Oh my God! Are you all right? I didn’t see you at all. You ran out onto the road right in front of me. I tried to stop, but there wasn’t time.”

This was a man’s voice—a young man’s voice—filled with concern and anguish. He was leaning over her. Enid could feel his warm breath on her face and his hand touching her shoulder. Her first instinct was to caution him that he shouldn’t use the Lord’s name in vain. If he was back home with The Family, Aunt Edith would cane him if she heard that, and so would Bishop Lowell. She opened her eyes briefly. Searching his chest, she was relieved to see no sign of the badge she thought she had seen earlier. It wasn’t there. The man leaning over her wasn’t the one who had called to her from across the road—the one sent to bring her back home.

The pain was astonishing. Enid closed her eyes, trying to blot it out. When she opened them again, the man was gone—he had disappeared completely from her line of vision. She thought for a moment that he had abandoned her and left her alone to die or else that he had gone away, leaving her at the mercy of the man wearing the badge. But then the young man’s face suddenly reappeared, and she felt the comforting weight of a heavy blanket settle over her.

She was out again briefly. When she returned to consciousness the next time, she heard more voices gathered around her—urgent voices, frightened voices, questioning ones. She struggled to make them out, trying to tell if there was a familiar one among them, but there wasn’t. The people who surrounded her now and who were coming to her aid weren’t from The Family. They were strangers, Outsiders.

“She’s hurt.” She recognized the young man’s voice, yelling urgently to someone behind him. “Hurt bad. Call 911. We need an aid car. Now!” Then he turned back to Enid. “Are you there?” he asked. “Can you hear me?”