Shiver

the road.”
    Sam swallowed the retort that immediately sprang to her tongue. Antagonizing him wouldn’t be helpful, so the best thing she could do was keep a lid on it for now. Be reasonable, let him think she was going to do exactly what he said, watch for her opportunity and take it. That was the plan.
    “So where are we going?” The truck rattled and banged as it picked up speed. As Sam glanced in the rearview mirror again,anxiety formed a cold knot in her chest. Her pulse skittered and jumped. Two vehicles were on the road behind them. Had either of them pulled out of the alley while she was watching the road? There was no way to be sure.
    “Somewhere else.” His voice was dry. “Uh, probably be a good idea to turn on the headlights.”
    “Oh. Right.” Sam had forgotten they were off. Another way to attract unwanted attention: drive through the increasingly dark streets without lights. That she had forgotten was a good indication of how rattled she was, she thought as she pulled the knob that turned them on. Immediately the bright beams slashed through the night. Instead of feeling safer, Sam felt like she now had a glowing neon target on her bumper.
    If they were spotted, the situation was not likely to end well. In any chase, the wrecker was not going to win. And if it came to a shootout—Sam shuddered.
    I can’t get killed. I have to get back to Tyler. Stress quickened her breathing.
    “Remember, they’re not looking for your wrecker. Yet.”
    His words were so spot on that it was almost as if he had read her mind. Casting him a careful look, Sam let out the breath she hadn’t until that moment realized she was holding.
    “I don’t want any part of this.”
    “So you’ve said. Sorry, I’m fresh out of magic wands that I can wave to make this whole thing go away. Truth is, you’re in it and you’re stuck.”
    “I don’t have to be,” she said. “You could get me out of this real quick by letting me go.”
    “Give it up, baby doll.” His voice sounded grim. “It’s not happening. So why don’t you just concentrate on driving?”
    Sam didn’t say anything for a moment. Various scenarios that might afford her a chance to escape chased themselves through her head.
    “Soon we’re going to need to get some gas,” she said.
    He leaned over to look at the gauge. It was down to about an eighth of a tank. Her words weren’t a complete ploy: the wrecker drank gas. An eighth of a tank wouldn’t get them far.
    “We’re good for now.”
    So much for that. Well, she hadn’t really expected it to work. She needed to find a way to call the cops and turn the whole thing over to them. The phone was practically burning a hole in her pocket, her secret ace in the hole. There was no way to use it with him sitting right beside her, though. She would have to wait.
    The question was, should she call 911?
    Or maybe just Kendra for a ride home?
    Oh, God, then Kendra would be involved. Putting her friend in danger was the last thing she wanted to do. After endangering Tyler, that is.
    “Look at it this way,” Quasimodo said. “The good news is, you’re still alive.”
    Once again she had the unnerving feeling that he knew what she was thinking. Which, of course, was impossible. She cast him a hostile look. “Just so you know, that sucks.”
    “What? Being alive?”
    “The fact that that’s the good news.”
    The sound he made almost could have been an aborted laugh. Certainly his grim expression relaxed for a moment. Casting another anxious glance in the rearview mirror, Sam was in no mood even to smile.
    “You wouldn’t have any water in here, would you?” he asked after a minute.
    Her response was short. “No.”
    But the idea that he possibly wanted water because he was weakening gave her hope.
    The next couple of blocks took them past rows of run-down buildings punctuated by towering signs advertising everything from Wild Turkey whiskey to Larry Flynt’s Hustler Club, which was one of a number of strip bars lining the expressway into St. Louis. Then the populated area thinned out until there was nothing much left except miles of broken concrete and tunnel-like underpasses. The road stretched away into a moonlit darkness filled with rusting railroad trestles and weed-filled empty lots and the occasional derelict building as it wound through what was essentially wasteland toward the distant pinpoint of light created by the giant streetlights that marked the expressway on-ramp. Other