The Never List

that had been the motive for this trip all along. And now I was at her mercy. She knew these forgotten roads like the back of herhand, and there was no one around. She could do anything to me. Anything.
    I felt the panic surge up from my stomach, penetrating my rib cage, filling my head. I started to feel dizzy, all the familiar signs. How could I, after all my precautions, have fallen for something so obvious? She had told me once, years ago, in the cellar, that no matter where I went, no matter what I did, if we ever got out of there, one day she would kill me. I had been shutting her out then, knowing I had to keep my focus, but now, now she was my focus. And I was riveted.
    I tried desperately to read her eyes. She was going much faster down this dirt road than the economy-class rental car seemed capable of handling. She’d specifically requested a stick shift, so even if I could somehow disable her, I’d be stuck, never having learned to handle a clutch.
    Her eyes stayed trained on the road. She didn’t answer me. She seemed transformed from the person I had been traveling with—that woman who had kept me at a distance, a space in which I felt very comfortable. I had thought the deep anger had dissipated, supplanted only by a vague but pervasive disdain. I had clearly been wrong.
    The car bumped along the road so hard, I thought my head might hit the roof.
    “Tracy,” I stammered, “Tracy, I’m sorry, really. I don’t—”
    “Shut up,” she said tersely, steering hard to the right to avoid a gaping pothole. “Not right now.”
    I shut up. I gripped the door handle and considered whether to jump out of the car. I thought about how fast I could run and where I could run to. Not very far, but at least I had my bag with all my ID and credit cards. I grabbed it and wrapped its strap around my wrist several times, so it would stay with me if I got up the courage. There was high brush on the side of the road, but I thought if I heldup my arms, I could avoid most damage to my face, and I could roll on my back into the weeds.
    I was afraid to jump, but I was more afraid of the look on Tracy’s face.
    Finally, I forced myself to pull once, gently, on the metal door handle just enough to unlock the door. I closed my eyes, and started to count. One, two, three …
    I didn’t have the nerve to do it the first time.
    I checked the speedometer. It felt as if we were going eighty miles per hour, but we were barely touching forty-five.
    I looked out at the road. There was a spot of soft-looking grass up ahead. That was my chance. I would open, jump, and roll.
    On three, two, one … I took a deep breath and popped open the door, propelling myself outward as far as I could. It felt as if the wind whipped me back, but I knew it was just the feeling of the car’s trajectory moving forward.
    I heard Tracy yell, “For chrissakes!” as she slammed on the brakes.
    The car rambled on for several more feet, and the brakes emitted an ungodly wail as she slowed to a halt. Tracy jumped out of the car, and I could hear her running toward me.
    It took me longer to get up than I had anticipated. I didn’t think I was hurt, but the fall had disoriented me. Slowly I made it to my feet and started running as hard as I could down the dirt road. Tracy was fast, though. Much faster than I was. Within four or five strides, she was right behind me.
    I could hear myself screaming, but it felt unconnected to my actual body. As if it were coming from someone else entirely. I was still clutching my bag. Even in my fear I was rational enough to know I’d need that when I got to town. Tracy was yelling something at me, but I couldn’t make it out over the din of my own screams. We were both panting loudly, almost in sync. After nomore than a couple of minutes, I knew I couldn’t run much farther, but to my relief she dropped off even before I did. I kept walking as fast as I could, trying to catch my breath and think of what to do next.
    “What the fuck ? What the FUCK?” was all Tracy was saying, I realized, over and over.
    “Please don’t hurt me. Please don’t hurt me,” I said. I was almost delirious. Tracy was closing in on me. Her fingers were inches from my arms when my eyes fully focused on her. I screamed again—this time it was more of a howl of fear—and she shuddered and stepped back. She stood stock-still in front of me, not moving an inch in either direction.
    She spoke calmly. “Sarah. Sarah, stop it. I am not