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Authors: Patti Wigington
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straighten when the van hit her again, harder than the last time. As soon as she felt the impact, she accelerated as hard as she could. If she couldn’t outmaneuver the van, maybe she could outrun it.
The driver of the van had apparently not been anticipating this, because by the time Cam glanced up she was nearly a quarter of a mile ahead of the other vehicle. She kept her foot on the gas, and her eyes on the road while she fumbled under the seat for the cellular phone she carried for emergencies. She pulled out the antenna with her teeth and quickly pressed the buttons.
“911, what’s your emergency?”
“Some guy in a van just tried to run me off the road!”
“Where are you now, ma’am?”
Cam looked around, uncertain. Where had she turned off the main highway? It was now almost completely dark, and she was disoriented. She could see headlights in the distance behind her. “I just passed a sign for Basham’s Lake Road… oh, I’m on 772!”
“The Haver Springs deputy isn’t far from you, ma’am. I’ll have him meet up with you.”
“Troy? Troy’s out here?”
“Yes, ma’am, Sergeant Adams is in the vicinity,” said the calm voice.
“Good!” Cam looked up, and realized in horror that the van was converging on her once again. “Tell him to hurry up, he’s a friend of mine!”
This time the van’s driver hit her even harder. The Civic shot across the road like a bullet and down into a ravine. Cam heard herself scream as the little car rolled over and lodged against a tree. Then everything went black.
Chapter Four
“I am fine, Troy. Really!” protested Cam. She stuck out her tongue at the young nurse who was trying to get her into a wheelchair. “Stop that. I can walk.”
“No, you can’t! You can’t walk or drive or do anything else,” ordered Troy. He pushed her firmly back into the chair.
She had been at Bedford Memorial for the better part of four hours now, and wanted more than anything else to just go home to her own bed. Troy had arrived on the scene of the accident moments after it happened, but by then the van was already gone. Cam had hit her head on the steering wheel when the car rolled, but other than some minor cuts and bruises she was in reasonably good shape, all things considered. Thankfully, she had been wearing her seatbelt. All she had been able to tell Troy was that the van was maroon, and not terribly new.
“Oh, by the way,” Troy added. “Wanda stopped by while you were being x-rayed. She said to give you this.” He handed her a plump manila envelope. It smelled a bit like patchouli, reminding Cam of the comforting feel of Wanda’s house.
There was a green sticky-note tacked to the outside. “Cam,” it read. “Follow the instructions!!!”
“What instructions?” she asked.
“Huh?” Troy looked puzzled. “I don’t know. She said you should read everything in there and then decide what to do.”
Cam was confused. “Do? About what? God, my head hurts. I’m not reading anything tonight.”
Troy laughed as he wheeled her to the parking lot. “I guess that means our camping trip is off?”
“Not so fast, buddy! It’s just on hold, not cancelled. By the way, where is my car?”
“Well, the front end of it is wedged into a tree on South 772. The rest is over at Derwood Logan’s garage on Liberty Street.”
Cam groaned as she lowered herself into the front of Troy’s cruiser. “Ohhhh. I feel like I’ve been hit by a train.” Her whole body ached.
“Wait till tomorrow morning,” promised Troy. “You’ll feel even worse then.”
Troy’s prediction proved to be true, and Cam spent all day Saturday lying on her couch doing nothing. Alice came by every hour to check on her and make sure she wasn’t taking too many painkillers, and Hal stopped in with soup and sandwiches for lunch.
“Alice said you were pretty banged up,” Hal said politely.
“Mmm. I’ve felt better,” admitted Cam. She slowly launched herself
The driver of the van had apparently not been anticipating this, because by the time Cam glanced up she was nearly a quarter of a mile ahead of the other vehicle. She kept her foot on the gas, and her eyes on the road while she fumbled under the seat for the cellular phone she carried for emergencies. She pulled out the antenna with her teeth and quickly pressed the buttons.
“911, what’s your emergency?”
“Some guy in a van just tried to run me off the road!”
“Where are you now, ma’am?”
Cam looked around, uncertain. Where had she turned off the main highway? It was now almost completely dark, and she was disoriented. She could see headlights in the distance behind her. “I just passed a sign for Basham’s Lake Road… oh, I’m on 772!”
“The Haver Springs deputy isn’t far from you, ma’am. I’ll have him meet up with you.”
“Troy? Troy’s out here?”
“Yes, ma’am, Sergeant Adams is in the vicinity,” said the calm voice.
“Good!” Cam looked up, and realized in horror that the van was converging on her once again. “Tell him to hurry up, he’s a friend of mine!”
This time the van’s driver hit her even harder. The Civic shot across the road like a bullet and down into a ravine. Cam heard herself scream as the little car rolled over and lodged against a tree. Then everything went black.
Chapter Four
“I am fine, Troy. Really!” protested Cam. She stuck out her tongue at the young nurse who was trying to get her into a wheelchair. “Stop that. I can walk.”
“No, you can’t! You can’t walk or drive or do anything else,” ordered Troy. He pushed her firmly back into the chair.
She had been at Bedford Memorial for the better part of four hours now, and wanted more than anything else to just go home to her own bed. Troy had arrived on the scene of the accident moments after it happened, but by then the van was already gone. Cam had hit her head on the steering wheel when the car rolled, but other than some minor cuts and bruises she was in reasonably good shape, all things considered. Thankfully, she had been wearing her seatbelt. All she had been able to tell Troy was that the van was maroon, and not terribly new.
“Oh, by the way,” Troy added. “Wanda stopped by while you were being x-rayed. She said to give you this.” He handed her a plump manila envelope. It smelled a bit like patchouli, reminding Cam of the comforting feel of Wanda’s house.
There was a green sticky-note tacked to the outside. “Cam,” it read. “Follow the instructions!!!”
“What instructions?” she asked.
“Huh?” Troy looked puzzled. “I don’t know. She said you should read everything in there and then decide what to do.”
Cam was confused. “Do? About what? God, my head hurts. I’m not reading anything tonight.”
Troy laughed as he wheeled her to the parking lot. “I guess that means our camping trip is off?”
“Not so fast, buddy! It’s just on hold, not cancelled. By the way, where is my car?”
“Well, the front end of it is wedged into a tree on South 772. The rest is over at Derwood Logan’s garage on Liberty Street.”
Cam groaned as she lowered herself into the front of Troy’s cruiser. “Ohhhh. I feel like I’ve been hit by a train.” Her whole body ached.
“Wait till tomorrow morning,” promised Troy. “You’ll feel even worse then.”
Troy’s prediction proved to be true, and Cam spent all day Saturday lying on her couch doing nothing. Alice came by every hour to check on her and make sure she wasn’t taking too many painkillers, and Hal stopped in with soup and sandwiches for lunch.
“Alice said you were pretty banged up,” Hal said politely.
“Mmm. I’ve felt better,” admitted Cam. She slowly launched herself
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